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court-jobi · 8 months ago

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Learn by Doing

((Banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work or Hirune's gorgeous art))

Pairing: Aizawa x reader (American!Pro Hero (fem)reader)

Words: 4.4k

Rating: T+

Warnings: ANGST/COMFORT, canon-typical fights mentioned, light injuries, minimal pronouns used, big feelings turned big confessions, reader is not very demure/mindful in this one and that's refreshing to me, Hizashi Yamada is a good friend, emotionally constipated Aizawa needs a hug

Summary:

You’re in trouble with just about everyone, in some way. Mixed reviews at best… but no doubt in trouble with your agency, the damage control unit, and most notably– Shouta Aizawa. You can look the President of the Hero Public Safety Commission in the face should you ever royally mess up; but not a disappointed ‘Zawa.

In the moment, you expect to have to avert your sights from his trademark flat look of disapproval. But instead, you are honed in– finding him more raw than ever before. Turns out, Aizawa wasn’t just angry: he’s scared. He’s an angry crier, and that scares you straight.

A/N: Omg I've been sitting proofing this one for so long, trying to get it right, until... i just needed to release it to the hounds of the internet. Just some friendly neighborhood AngstZawa for your viewing pleasure.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Back in your beloved UA building, you expect Shouta Aizawa to start up the lecture you’re due for, but still- nothing from him.

No word when you rejoined the team outside the raided building. No word when you received mixed praises of success from your superiors: who might have given all glowing remarks if it wasn’t for your unorthodox way of earning them that had them worried there for a moment. There’d be more investigation and potentially some penalties for tonight’s actions, even if the result was overwhelmingly positive. Though through each step of your mission debrief, Aizawa was dead quiet.

Not a single word from him -even out of comfort- when you got checked over by the medics on site, and nothing still on your drive back to UA courtesy of an equally tense Hizashi Yamada, who could no doubt feel ‘the energy of the studio’ tonight.

Hizashi looked at you sympathetically between the surface level chatter you two share in the car. Behind his aloofness behind the wheel, you gathered there wasn’t much he could say to appease the storm that he knew might be looming behind Aizawa’s nearly shut eyes. Per usual, said hero remained like a mouse in the backseat, his silence blaring loud. The twinkle in Hizashi’s eyes offered only the unspoken wish that you’d be patient and keep your pretty chin up. You relied on this energy, because it stems from a lifetime of knowing Shouta Aizawa and carries confidence, and have to trust in that history- even if you held a healthy amount of nerves from his silence that you’re certain is burning a hole into the back of your head in the car.

‘Zashi would ordinarily have said a quick ‘good luck’ once you parked… if ‘Zawa wasn’t waiting right outside your door, for you. This time, you merely gave a muted word of thanks and got on your way from the passenger’s seat.

The uncomfortable quiet remains when Yamada heads to the teacher’s lounge while you and your co-teacher head back to the dorms to check on the students and head to bed yourselves. However, when Aizawa veered to the South A tower -toward his classroom- he paused and checked for you in his peripheral– the unspoken command to follow rings loud and clear.

Even though you obeyed with a step behind him, your spirit was hardly calm like the night air around you. Aggravated by your still present headache, your pulse keeps thumping in your ears as you step through the still, minimally-lit hall.

Aizawa opened the door to his room, holding it for you, while turning his head back down the hallway- away from your face as if he couldn’t spare the glance.

God, this silent treatment. It’s juvenile, you’d think, if he didn’t radiate so much stern control that unnerved even the most upright student.

But the minute the door closes with his lock to seal you both in, Aizawa’s trademark drone returns– lethal as ever.

“You've sure got a lot of nerve, Miss America.”

Finally.

You can take the dig at what reputation precedes you. At the end of the day, Aizawa tends to hear you out, no matter the tone, so you’re simply glad to be on talking terms again.

…but that doesn’t mean you’re entirely passive. You’re known for your sugar and spice. Unable to curb your attitude, you make no attempt to hide how much his pouting annoyed you,

“Had enough of my chatty time-out, huh?”

“I find berating anyone when they’re already down to be cruel and ineffective,” Aizawa merely shrugs his coat off, then nods to the desks facing him at the front of the classroom. “But to say you don't need to get a firm talking-to would be delusional.”

The knocking around you received is a wound enough, so you’re thankful he doesn't mean to pour lemon juice right on it with a snappy reflex of ‘you should have been more careful’, with regards to your scrapes. But quite the long debrief awaits you now, nonetheless.

No, you know the events that got you to the point of overextension and liability must have been the bigger concern:

"Look I get it,” you finally settle on the lip of the desk, Young Ojiro’s. “To you, that was a hothead move. But I've been around the block with ops like this, it’s far from my first...”

You stress that your ‘nerve’ was not misplaced while Aizawa rounds his desk to loosen and stow his capture weapon.

“-but you saw on those cameras, they were teetering Iseri and Koshito too close to the edge- I couldn't just--"

"Both of whom are plenty prepared for these situations."

“But they’re kids-”

“They graduated four years ago, and have been in the pro circuit for the last three. They're not UA students anymore, and certainly not our direct reports. Those were the roles assigned in the mission terms, and you signed them.”

The shortness in Aizawa’s voice ignites so many things in you. Namely, outrage. Being shut down and interrupted has been -and continues to be- a big temper trigger for you.

But you remember, above everything else you know of the teacher: facts over feelings is the tactic that’s going to land with him. You had to lean into the rational side of things in order to explain yourself.

The truth was, you were afraid he wouldn't trust you again.

Over the last two years, you've trained with these students together. This year’s class is particularly promising -and challenging- due to the ridiculous amount of villain interferences you've faced as a staff… that you've faced together. More than any other sidekick, any other partner, Aizawa has been your anchor in all the ways that matter- even those unspoken.

Thankfully he’s in a listening mood now, and you hope it’s enough of an opening to talk this out. Since reapplying some eyedrops, Aizawa is solely set on figuring out what was wrong with his goggles. He’d gotten smacked around a good bit, too, though not as harsley as you. He’s scraped along his good cheek just a touch from a square hit to the face, though the poor lackey who chose to come at him with cheap moves didn't fare as gently.

You train your volume down a pitch, seeking out a more tender part of the man before you. A still, small hope holds true that he could follow your line of reason enough to not dismiss you entirely. You couldn't bear that thought.

"You trusted my judgment and I clearly see that I broke that... but I did nothing to put anyone at risk outside of myself, and when I see another way that can spare others, I take it. Without the visual outside, without any signal, I couldn't see any other ways to follow the plan, or else I would have done it,”

You press on, joining him in front of his desk now. Things are improved, him speaking to you, but not perfect. He’s not looked you in the eye in hours. So, you’d make yourself impossible to ignore.

“I went off-book, and I acknowledge that. But please know that I don’t go rogue for nothing. Not because I feel like it, certainly!”

Still, no response.

You flick at the still itchy residue from the butterfly bandages stretched taught at your temple and cheekbone.

“You see this and think that's bad.. Imagine watching me pulling moves like that five years ago when I thought I was hot shit, n’where that would have gotten me…”

Aizawa’s jaw worked as he clasped and unclasped the hinge on his specs.

Unnecessary; they’re not broken badly. Anxious? Surely not.

“Aizawa, please say som-"

The goggles resound with plastic clatter on the table; its owner rounded the corner with blazing irises, and not one lit by any quirk.

Aizawa in all his intimidating glory came close fast while leaving a desk’s distance between you, his eyes turning from anger- to fear- to utter heartbreak.

"There were other plans. There will always be alternatives. Solutions that don’t involve anyone, if you’d just slow down for a second to think.”

“What solutions?!”

“They called Oversight in- who brought drones. He was on call the whole time,” Aizawa fired anger in short, perfect jabs, “Or did you ‘forget’ reading that, too?”

You’re put on notice quick.

“Wh– he was?”

“He took point on leveling tactics for the building. The city came with artificial reinforcements, too- diversions he created and leased to them for reconnaissance, tech designed to work on command without room for any human error,” Aizawa finally grits out his impeccable perspective,

“We knew your radio went down, and we knew we had to get you help or else you'd be blind, so we called in failsafes– but your blasting through going a mile a minute the moment we lost contact was far from rational. You didn’t even give us a chance to try and help.”

Shame bubbles where indignancy once filled you.

You speed-read through the mission brief- overly confident, perhaps, and missed- -honestly, a key detail that might have changed everything. You’re clearly not used to serving on a team this large, this wide of a support net, and it shows. Hyper-independence was costly now.

“...I.. didn't hear that.”

“No you didn't,” Aizawa answered cooly and aired his grievances further,

“You look at what's right in front of you, but you've got these blinders on, and that's one of the most dangerous things you can do in battle. You’re part of a team now, but you’re still acting like a vigilante. That’s reckless, no matter how seasoned you are. Think about Kaminari: you think he doesn’t look around before he sets off thousands upon thousands of volts in every direction before he acts? Or that Todoroki doesn’t consider if his ice is going to freeze out any bystanders or harm himself in the process? Each one of their actions can be costly: to those around them, and themselves.”

You swallow your idealistic pride beating beneath your chest, because you know he’s right.

On that exposed open platform of the building, you’d been so worried about who had been close to the edge, that you tried to divert all attention to yourself in order to get them away from that precipice.

Your actions, your ‘diversion’ resulted in a tousle that: yes, gave the younger rookies a better chance at a safe exit, but landed you square in the trap yourself, and in limited range to the still-fighting thug who was not just caught, but pissed. You’d also created more work for the Net Hero below to cast a gridlock wide enough to grab the villain effectively.

As a long-distance fighter, those were poor odds you subjected yourself to. You’re lucky to have gotten out as smoothly as you have.

“I know that. And I am sorry–” you gestured to your own new set of blooming bruises for good measure, “-- and I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson… That’s how you say your students learn best, right? ‘Learn by doing, learn what stings’?”

–Aizawa’s upper lip jolts in a scowl. Wrong thing to say.

“That’s not a win,” Aizawa threatens lowly. “No one in their right mind would be celebrating something like this. Injuries happen, but they shouldn't be needless.”

You wince, torn between guilt and annoyance again.

“Yeah, well, I get it’s needless now, but I didn’t know what I didn’t know. At some point, we have to call mistakes what they are, and leave it, right?”

“This is too important to drop,” Aizawa growls, “and I won’t, until I know you understand. This isn’t a test, this isn’t for a grade. This is serious. You’re getting hurt over it.”

Your defense was wearing thin, but you stood your ground. A more sassier remark would have been along the lines of dooming yourself to the ‘stupid Americans’ club till you’re inevitably deported- but that would be too emotional of a response, and not helpful. A fool’s hope was all you could carry now.

You studied Aizawa for anything that would level out his respect for you- praying he held any. –you square yourself before him after as deep a breath as your winded lungs can give you–

“I was wrong,” you pressed the point once again, “I overlooked key information that would have impacted my actions. I can -and will- learn from this and do better, and even do my part in meeting with more of our allies so I can work with them, not around them. Get all the information, and actually use it... And I don’t have to stick my dumb ass out on the line like a rookie, with shit like that.”

Aizawa agrees, but doesn’t look altogether happy about your apology.

“Any of those steps would have sufficed- if you truly couldn’t stick to the plan…”

You’re waiting for a final lesson learned, but receive a strange pang of emotion from Aizawa’s firmly set stare–

“But plans may still fail. You’re going to have to go off-book, it’s inevitable. I’m not slighting you for that. But if there’s one thing you have to keep at the front of your mind, it's that there’s only one you.”

You’ve been guarded this year. On edge, day after day, by threat of attack at all hours. You accepted this role as a teacher to help bolster the faculty’s support staff of heroes with the rising crime rates, but have come to enjoy the job on a much deeper level- in a way you wouldn’t have experienced without Aizawa specifically at your side…

This feeling -safety, even in the most uncertain circumstances- radiates from him whenever you’re together. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing; you don’t have to be in pressing danger or fight-or-flight to feel it. It’s a constant hum of assurance from Aizawa that settles your spirit and draws you to him.

By action, he never pronounces his entrance or use flamboyant body language; rather it’s his subtle and meaningful motions that aim to soothe. With his words, he says what he means, and doesn’t sugar coat things– and by that very token, you know even the kindest of affirmations that come out of him must also be true- few and far between as they are.

Those signs are all subtleties that point to a very private person. Ultimately, if you did not know him so well by daily interactions, you may never have picked up how a man like him truly feels.

Only right now, you can’t help but see it. Every emotion he’d hold inside is palpable. He does feel very strongly, and you’re gifted by its raw power: even as you are the sole audience for such a show.

There’s something in his eyes that’s not so much angry, but pained. It’s rearing up like wings to make itself appear bigger than it is, but also to shield away from unwanted eyes. It forces you to stare back, and not look away. Demands you attention, because this matters.

It’s scared.

“I know you don't give a damn what you think of yourself,” he says cautiously, “but the rest of us do care what happens to you-”

The words your nursing friend had said at the hospital tending to your most recent injuries. That this is beyond a dauntless streak of selflessness, but that your life has value and meaning. Aizawa must not have been ignoring you fully earlier. Hearing him say this proves that he had overheard you both after all– and to an extent agrees.

Damn, your pride doesn’t like hearing that. And damn your self-deprecating sense of humor: the one that’s not-so-funny to the Japanese populace, apparently.

You cross your arms, a flit of sarcasm dripping as a defense mechanism:

“Ok, Doc– I get it–”

“I’m not Doctor Mori.” Aizawa snapped, void of patience. “Or your darling Suzuki for that matter.”

Your two best friends, the latter whom you share a group chat with who will also not be happy hearing what's happened to you today. Neither would negate anything Aizawa has told you so far. In fact they'd agree, wholeheartedly.

Furthermore, they know what he means to you, too. Beyond your hero work, beyond your classroom partnership…

They know Aizawa makes your world go ‘round. You practically set your clock to his time, so that you might be in sync and have something reliable in your life. You learn from him, you thrive by him, you're thankful for how you've grown and how you continue to feel when he looks your way. It's all genuine, and you appreciate that in a level that's perhaps become more than that of friends.

Guilt twinges the strength left in your words,

“I know you're not… your say matters, too.”

“Well your actions sure as hell aren't matching. You say my words have weight? Then you listen to me now.”

Aizawa flares his sights at you, rounding the last tabletop between you as he does so.

“I don’t expect half measures from you and I would never ask that of you. I do believe you are a great hero, and I believe you’re going to give your all, don’t misinterpret that. Never doubt that. But for whatever it's worth- if it even means to you what it means to me- you don’t just have a circle of people who want you and need you… who doesn’t just see you as another name on a mission roster, or just an asset to a team… But there are people who hate watching you dance with danger like it’s something only you can do, not when you have someone who will be at your side.. As we fight it together.”

Before irritated disbelief could settle across your face– Aizawa’s fight-worn hands that had laid fisted by his side flew up and cupped the base of your skull.

Aizawa’s eyes sting red with tears; wet emotion bared in your presence for the first time.

“You are my breath,” Aizawa manages your name desperately, “My anchor, and my light, and you’re holding what little heart I have left, and I can’t lose you.. to this.”

–his words had you shocked speechless. Your heart could break itself looking back in those eyes.

You sense the hurt bursting from the seams right in front of you– hurt that had rendered him silent for much of your journey back here. You can't imagine having been the one who scared him this much, someone you truly believed was immovable.

Aizawa’s given you something far more important than a down-to-earth talk. It’s a beautiful confession you never saw coming.

Your hand cups his wrist back gently, its tendons tremble underneath you. He asked you to call him by name, so you would.

"Z-. Shouta..."

His eyes shut, and he falls forward, his forehead to yours. Containing tears within, Aizawa steeled his deep voice again:

"I have these nights… nights with dreams so bad, I can't wake when I want to. And then others, where I never want the good dream to stop. You're in both, and that scares me to no end."

His fingers bear down on the hastily thrown-on menthol patch you'd not get spent the minimal seconds it takes to affix straight. He feels the raising bump under the pads of those fingers, feeling evidence of your recklessness yet again.

“I lived a life without you. It feels so long ago now...after we met, after you stood by me at city hall–I don't want anything less. Never again. I just want you to be more careful about these things."

Tears pricked yours, too. Never would you have imagined a close call would have affected him like this. Out of the hundreds of nights you’ve rounded up villains together, you’d broken the final straw of his resolve.

He cares. He cares for you. You dare to think he may love you– and found this as his way to say it.

"I was- I really didn't-- I'm sorry, Shouta. Please..."

His eyes opened at your voice calling.

"Then promise me."

"Promise?"

"Promise me you won’t take these risks again. Not alone. Not when you have someone in your corner... Someone who can help you see past the hurt, the vengeance– whatever is going through your head that you’re thinking you need to prove. We can make something better from it. Smarter. I’ve walked that path; I know it well.”

You nod in his hold; your oath back to him, as he lays it all out. Were this a written love letter, you’d memorize every line.

“-but promise me you'll never scare me like this. Not when it’s avoidable. Don’t ever do this again."

Aizawa’s voice fell to a choked whisper by the end. The last window of his strength crumbled like settling dust while his thumbs scroll your temples reverently.

You swallow tensely, nodding all the quicker,

"Yes, I promise, yes.” You’ll fuck things up differently, sure, but not like tonight’s show of heroics.

Aizawa shuddered; it sank in. "Thank you."

Still, you made it your job to make him believe, so you lifted up off the desk to stand before him. Fighting the burn in your arms was a worthy cause when rising to hug him– and rewarded you instantly as he reciprocated. You relished in the feeling, the warmth from his breath on your neck, how securely his arms held you tight, the caring hand that fisted the back of your hair in an intimate gesture.

There was nowhere else you'd rather be. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes close in his hold. You’d tell him someday, but you’ve dreamt of him to, though not so heartbreaking in memory, as he shared with you. Many of your dreams settled on moments just like this; tame, warming fantasies that you wished you could share with him as a break from the chaos. Because he deserved softness, too.

And here he was: hugging you. You smile. Shouta Aizawa -man of a thousand sleepless nights- is fucking hugging you. Hizashi will never believe this.

You felt the change the minute your name crossed the line of Aizawa’s lips. His shoulders sagged and he pressed into you, his hands loosening and patting your hair, the fierce nature in which he'd captured you melting into a protective caress.

The man’s face still sunk inwards, weary as he met your eyes. Where was that look coming from? He seemed so worried, like he wanted to say something but was trying hard not to. His gaze darted to your lips to your cheeks- basking in every bit of this moment, like he'd never get the chance to be this close again.

Hearing his inhale at the touch, your hand smoothed over his heart, purposefully, lovingly. Eyes locked, you tipped your head to the side and lifted your chin to be clear to him- an invitation. The corners of his mouth lift.

I feel the same, you want to cry to him. But with his emotions still sitting under the surface, you will yourself to be the strong one.. just for a moment longer. You’ll share your vulnerability once the pain meds wear off.

Aizawa met you halfway in one fell swoop. Still tender from your fight, you brought his lips to yours to seal in the promise made.

This kiss was more than you imagined. Impossibly gentle lips, dizzying warmth, the lowest of hums leading into it. Had he been angry, it might have been a growl, but you’re sure you would've jumped on it anyway. The energy he gave into this first kiss caught even you by surprise.

After another drawn out press, you bowed your foreheads together and took in shaky breaths.

"Wow,” you sighed out a smile.

He whispered the awestruck wonder back, and drew you right back in.

Parting after several rolling kisses later, you saw him clearer, sporting that Totoro smile at your blissful face.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," Aizawa spoke into your ear, still holding you close, but mindful of the tender parts you winced at.

Careful of the taxed weakness in his elbow, you carefully massaged up his arm gently, “Sorry I had to piss you off to get it~”

He chuckled breathlessly, feeling soft enough to nuzzle your cheek. You laughed at the roughness of his scruff on yours. It’s so comfortable with him like this. felt up his chest slowly while you had the chance. He took a deep breath at the sensation.

"Guess this means you’re putting in your name as ‘that someone’? Do this together then?" You gestured with your shoulder between you, working out the words, “I mean, I should hope so– you just kissed the daylights out of me."

Aizawa brushed some hair away you'd nervously let forward. He seemed cool as ever, but spoke gently with you.

"I wasn't so sure someone like me could feel this way about someone like you. So yes. I'd like to see where this could go,” Aizawa centered back to meet you with level calm. “I think.. what we have to start with, works. Don't you?"

You smiled sweetly and nodded with confidence. How things will look for you from this point on will simply build on the foundation you have. That all can be learned. Finessed. You braved a smile and assured him, despite the nagging fear you felt you caused;

"I won’t let you down, ‘Zawa."

His eyes almost rolled shut into a breathy chuckle.

"You know, I adore you. So damn much." He captured your lips again in a couple long kisses. You hummed in between them, drowned out by his own possessive trills back as they echoed into your shared mouths.

You gave a breathy little giggle in happiness and trailed your fingers over the edge of his jaw, caressing the stubble of beard.

“Guess I have added incentive to stick around then.”

“Oh, you are. And you’re going to have to face the music with the city task force come Monday.”

–Ah yes, this felt more normal. The king of rational thought swooping in to burst your bubble. But… you suppose you rely on this too. All part of the Eraserhead package deal.

You’ll take it; along with your consequences.

“Ugh shit.”

“Told you so.”

Planning out your next steps in Aizawa’s homeroom, as a team, went well for the remainder of your time propped up at his desk… until you got distracted again. This new dynamic between you will be sure to prove tempting, you fear, as inevitably your reputation for being a horrific flirt started getting the best of you when Aizawa stuck his hair up to get back to work.

Unfair, how good he looks when he’s angry. Even worse when he looks back at you, in love.

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athanza · 3 months ago

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A Time For Us - part 2

Shouta Aizawaxfem!past-love hero oc (not self-insert)

Plot: Trying to cheer up her teacher, Eri manages to resurrect his long-lost love who died seven years prior while protecting him from a villain.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, age difference (both adult), crying, fluff, referenced character death, not canon, romance, alternate universe, if I've missed any let me know! ♡

Warnings: Angst, crying, referenced character death, may tug at your heartstrings (sorry lol). Again, if I've missed anything let me know, I'm still relatively new to fic writing and tags etc.

This is a non-canon, stand-alone fic but the idea came to me and I had to write it. I hope you enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 3

Part 2

The sound of nurses going room-to-room, moving to and from their patients woke her slowly. She squinted her eyes at the pain from the light that shone through the hospital window and sheturned her head away, wincing in pain at her stiff neck.

Her eyes fell on Aizawa, peacefully asleep in the chair beside her hospital bed and she smiled, but then, all of her memories suddenly flooded back. The image of Aizawa wounded, the villain charging towards him, her desperate leap to block the attack.

She jolted upwards with a gasp but was met with a sharp pain in her chest and left arm. She yelped, which woke up Aizawa, and he immediately leapt to her side.

"Saiyu!" He said. "E-easy, you were badly injured."

When she lay back down and the pain subsided somewhat, she looked over at him again.

"Shouta." She croaked, her throat hoarse. "What happened?"

His breath hitched, he had no idea how to answer that. He'd spoken with the doctors at length about how to approach the situation when she woke up so as to lessen the shock, but he still froze. He couldn't believe he was talking to her again, as if the last ten years never happened.

"Why do you look older? Did someone hit you with an ageing quirk while I was passed out? Are you ok?"

"No, I-...It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

There was that sass, the one she used when people doubted her, it was something she always saw as a shortcoming but he found it endearing.

She didn't really need him to answer. "How-...how long have I been asleep?"

He paused just long enough for her to get suspicious. "Don't worry about that right now, I need to send for a doctor."

"Shouta, tell me what's going on. Have I been in a coma?"

"No..."

"Why are you being so vague with me?."

The room fell silent, his eyes hid behind those messy locks of hair that she loved so much. He knew he couldn't lie to her, he was never able to in the first place, even when they were teenagers. She always knew something was up, no matter how well someone hid it, not that he was doing a very good job right now.

"You died." He said. "The villain's attack was too strong...you were unconscious and bled out before help could get to us... that was seven years ago."

For a second, the world seemed to slow to a stop and she forgot how to breathe. "So...how am I here?"

The door to the room slid open and the doctor walked in, startled but relived to see Sayu awake.

"You're awake!" He said. "That's good news! How are you feeling after that battle? You're lucky we were able to repair the damage."

"Doctor," Her tone had changed, she was even more serious now. "I know the truth...please, just tell me what's going on."

The doctor paused and looked at Aizawa, who gave him a subtle nod, though he still hesitated. "Mr. Aizawa is a teacher at UA High. He has a new student who has a regeneration quirk, she used it to resurrect you."

Sayu's eyes widened in disbelief. "She...brought me back to life?"

"Correct. She doesn't have very good control over her quirk yet so Mr. Aizawa was assigned as her ward, to use his erasure quirk if the need should ever arise, as he's the only person we know is able to control her quirk for her until she can control it herself."

"...I've been dead for seven years..." she thought.

"We wanted to break it to you slowly so that the mental shock wouldn't be so harsh on you. Eri used all of her energy to resurrect you, but she couldn't heal all of your injuries. Luckily, since you've been here, you've healed quite well, so I'll be able to discharge you today."

"Eri? Is that the girl who brought me back? Is she ok?"

Once again, her selflessness shone through, despite everything. Always worrying about others and not herself. She was the person Midoriya always reminded him of.

"Yes." The doctor replied. "She's still asleep right now. Her body isn't yet fully recovered from the complete depletion of energy, but she's fine otherwise. You don't have to worry."

Saiyu relaxed a little. "That's good."

She let out a small sigh of relief after her heart had been hurting, thinking that someone, a child, had given their life to bring her back.

"Do you have somewhere to stay once you're discharged?"

"She'll be staying with me." Said Aizawa. "We need to keep this out of the press for as long as possible, UA will be the best place for her until we figure out how to go about this."

She looked up at Aizawa, sensing a distance that wasn't there before, and it stung her heart a little.

He didn't know why he was being so distant, her being back is all he ever wanted, and yet here he was, somehow afraid to show her how much he loved her and how happy he was that she was alive. Why? What was holding him back?

"I'll send someone with the discharge papers for you both to sign. I suggest you both get some rest, young Eri will be asleep for some time yet, you'll be the first I call when she wakes up, I promise."

He was talking mostly to Aizawa with that last part but she was worried for the girl too. She could also tell that he cared for the girl, and remembering that he was now a teacher made her smile.

...

In a different room, All Might waited, along with Deku and the other classmates, all there to support Aizawa, knowing he would refuse to rest.

"How come you're staying hidden All Might?" Asked Kirishima. "She's your friend too isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is." He smiled solemnly. "But I sustained my injuries long after she passed away, she doesn't know about my current condition, and she has enough to process right now."

"R-right." Kirishima felt silly for not realising, but Deku flashed him a subtle, reassuring smile, and he relaxed.

"I can't even imagine what she's going through," said Ochaco. "what any of you are going through. Having a friend die like thay only to be brought back years later..."

"Fate can be terribly cruel, but also very kind, I guess this is one of those instances when she decides to be both." Said All Might as he sat, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees, his head low.

The others sat quietly, waiting patiently for news from the doctor.

"You said Miss Yamada and Mr. Aizawa were classmates back at UA. Were they friends before then?"

"No, Saiyu was transferred from the business course in second year. At first, her quirk wasnt very strong, the teachers didn't see much use for her quirk in the hero course, but she trained hard, and when the board saw how strong her quirk had gotten in just a single year they approved her transfer right away."

"Wow." Said Ochaco. "It's a shame there's not more written about her, she seems like an amazing hero."

"She was incredible." All Might smiled. "All of them were scrambling to get good internships when they graduated, I had to compete with her somewhat, in a light-hearted rivalry kind of way. Internship offers or not, she was still one of my closest friends.

Once she discovered that she could make people feel her illusions as well as just see them, the offers flooded in for her. But even though she had her choice of where to go when she graduated, she picked the same agency as Aizawa. They worked well together, and they knew it. They wanted to stay as a team."

"I can't help get the feeling they were more than friends." Said Mina.

"They were in love. Neither of them had much of an eye for the spotlight, so they kept it on the down-low, but I saw how much they cared for each other. They were inseparable."

"So romantic." Mina gushed.

Ochaco's expression saddened. "That only means it hurt him a lot more when she died..."

The room fell silent.

"I can't speak for him," All Might replied, "but I could tell something broke that day, something so deep inside him that I couldn't do anything to help. It broke my heart seeing my friend like that."

His eyes began to well up again, but he felt Izuku place a reassuring hand on his back. "But you were there for him, and you can still be there for him now, that's the most important thing."

He blinked back his tears and straightened up a little, smiling softly.

The doctor came in not long after and told them the news.

"You know, you kids don't have to be here, you all need rest." Said All Might.

"As if we'd just leave you here on your own." Said Kirishima with a smile.

"He's right," Todoroki added. "We're not doing much here that we wouldn't be doing back at the dorm."

Deku smiled too. "We're staying with you until Eri wakes up and we know you're alright."

Again, All Might started getting choked up.

"Shota." He thought. "You have a wonderful class in these young heroes."

Part 3

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #shouta aizawa #aizawa #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x fem reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa x oc #shouta aizawa x oc #aizawa fic #shouta aizawa fic #aizawa fanfic

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kxttqi · 8 months ago

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‎‎

ִֶָ࣪‎‎ ☾. 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 ｡ || chapter 1 ; ua's hero course

fic masterlist . previous chapter . next chapter

✶ { status: ongoing }

✶ { content: mha x f!reader / op!reader , canon divergent , angst , slow burn, reader insert }

✶ { !! trigger warnings: none }

✶ { taglist: open }

“y/n? what the hell?”

you turned, eyes locking with the familiar red ones.

of course.

he didn’t know. you had kept it a secret the entire time, conversing for hours on those abandoned swings at the park. aizawa had warned you against wandering too far, from fear that you’d fall into the hands of him again. not after everything he had done to protect you from those clutches. the blond had talked to you about heroes many times, those red eyes glinting as he recounted all might’s famous battles.

then once more when you both were older, when he had mentioned his quirk to you and his oath to beat all might and become number 1. to the outsider, he seemed cocky, arrogant, but to you, it was wondrous, seeing someone with such passion and confidence. at times, it almost seemed he was looking down on you (though you could tell he wasn’t from the way those eyes charted yours). you could’ve mentioned your quirk to him but you didn’t, brushing off his question and hiding behind the simple excuse of quirkless.

the truth is, you were scared. scared of your own power, scared of the blood, scared of the violence. scared that he would feel the same about what you posessed. the first friend you’d ever had, one that didn’t treat you like some helpless stray. you weren’t ready to lose it all, slipping through your fingers just as you had just brushed against it ever so gently.

then there was the entrance exam, which you know he had gotten first place on from none other than aizawa. once again, he couldn’t have known. you had taken the recommendation entrance exam, separate from the normal.

“katsuki…sorry.”

it’s subtle, the way his eyes narrow at your words, the way his jaw muscles tense. then it’s gone, as he slumps into the chair not too far away from where you were standing. he would question you later, no doubt, but katsuki had known it was a sensitive topic; further discussions weren’t to be made under the ears of your new classmates.

it’s how he always was towards you. and you only.

“don’t put your feet on the desk!”

“hah?”

“don’t you think that’s rude to the UA upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?!”

you heard them exchange lines, the purple hair introducing himself as ‘iida tenya’ and katsuki shouting something along the lines of “i’ll crush you, you damn elite!”

it was overwhelming, you realized. that feeling that was hanging around you like a swarm of gnats on a summer day. everyone else seemed so excited for their first day, i mean, it’s the hero course in UA. but you knew it deep down.

this wasn’t right.

“alright, it took eight seconds before you were quiet. time is limited. you kids aren’t rational enough.” you blinked, eyes flickering to the figure that you knew so well.

“i’m your homeroom teacher, shouta aizawa. nice to meet you. it’s sudden, but put this on and go out onto the field.”

you watched as aizawa pulled out a blue track suit from his sleeping bag. chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood, a flurry of motion and chatter filling the room. you gathered your things slowly, trying to steady your breathing. just as you were about to step into the throng of students, aizawa’s voice cut through the noise.

“y/n,” he called, his tone calm but firm.

you paused, turning to see him watching you with that familiar, unreadable gaze. the other students flowed around you, heading for the door, but aizawa’s eyes held yours, rooting you to the spot. he walked over and placed a steady hand on your shoulder.

“i know you’re nervous. but don’t forget our training. don’t forget why i recommended you for this course; believe in yourself. if at any point it becomes unsafe, i’ll intervene.”

he withdrew his hand and made his way out the door.

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sunysunyy · 5 days ago

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oboro's emotional intelligence

and how erasermic cannot handle his death at all.

'''⸻ 🌕

something that bugs me when reading a post regarding the rooftop trio and how erasermic dealt with Oboro’s death and then comparing to how, *if* the other one had died instead of oboro, the other two would have reacted the same in canon ……… is exactly that. saying that they would have reacted the same as in canon.

(still reading vigilantes and catching up on the manga btw!! so take this all with a grain of salt AND as someone who is been very brain focused on the rooftop trio in particular !!)

first, lets start with one big flaw of them two: how Shouta’s insecurities made him dive deeper into Oboro’s death, and how Hizashi’s distractions prevented him from digging into Oboro’s death.

one thing about them even prior Shirakumo’s death, is that Yamada even so seemed to put on a happy-go-lucky mask, and Aizawa was always too caught up into his own head. Shirakumo took notice of each of those things, didn’t make any questions, and instead immediately took action.

you have Shouta diminishing his accomplishments for the slightest error in his strategy and beating himself up for not picking up a stray, then you have Oboro pointing out his eye for even the tiniest details and how his quirk was made to be one of teamwork, emphasizing his powerness upon combat (especially because society depends a little too much on quirks to survive) and his voice reaching him even after death, to tell him one last time how capable and strong-skilled he Actually is, even if Shouta himself don’t believe so.

you have Hizashi being called overwhelming and incredibly loud, then you have Oboro closely matching his energy and listening to him attentively without ever telling him to shut up, even joining in and laughing With him in a genuine, equal burst of enthusiasm, being told to be sharing the same pair of braincells and even most likely being the one handing him a similar pair of googles of the one he gave to Shouta to symbolize their friendship as to Not leave him out, talking about his plan of starting up an agency with all three of them together right after. emphasizing even more in the next panel how it is about the three of them, that they are a trio.

(edited !! i've put more <3)

not to say Oboro wouldn’t take their deaths as harshly as they did with his, but with the much we know about his character, he wouldn’t take it unhealthily, Nor let them do so.

the one similarity between Shouta&Hizashi, is that they both couldn’t handle the death of the one guy who always lifted up their spirits and made sure they knew how much he loved them and how genuinely amazing they actually are. the one difference between Aizawa&Yamada, is that one of them dived too deep into Oboro’s death with his survivor’s guilt and overworked himself to the point of bleeding because he felt like he failed him, whilst the other let himself come across work upon work to avoid digging into Oboro’s death, not letting himself process its’ impact and the fact that he’s gone for even a minute, putting himself on last and being the pedestal of strength someone's gotta be.

they couldn’t handle with his death because he was the sole reason they were able to deal with almost everything else.

so if one of them dies instead, the other Would have reacted the same, and Oboro will take it just as harshly, but he’s also incredibly observant and considerate and genuine with his emotions, and definitely Not one to push the other away whilst engulfed in their own grief Nor put on a mask to bottle up the impact. he cares and will keep caring, and forever thinking about the friend they’ve lost, but he will also move on and find peace with it eventually.

but that’s also drastically influenced by my own observations on Oboro (aswell as the many analysis i’ve read about him lol), and so far i may be wrong, but i also may be right, or i may not be any of those things because, at the end of the day, he’s the one who died canonly, and we only know so little of him. and by little i mean his struggles.

we know about Shouta’s insecurities, and Hizashi’s masking, but we don’t know about Oboro’s. we don’t know what goes through his head,

(well, atleast, I don’t know in particular, i’ve Yet gotta study this guy(AND THE ROOFTOP TRIO) under a miscroscope (AND ALSO CATCH UP ON LITERALLY EVERYTHING JWSHJSKJHS)),

so, once again, take this all with a grain of salt !! ive been seeing in a lot of posts about this conception (particularly in very old posts because mha ended a long time ago [crying emoji] IM SO TREMENDOUSLY LATE) so i just HAD to ramble my own personal thoughts and opinions about it a bit. heh

thanks for coming to my ted talk. i wrote this all on a whim on one of my sudden bursts of excitement and hyperactivity.

🌕 ⸻'''

#🌕#bnha #mha #shirakumo oboro #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #rooftop trio #3baka #bnha manga spoilers #bnha vigilantes #this is not beta read I AM MY OWN BETA READ !!!!

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thehouseofurmotha · 11 months ago

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Hiya!

Welcome to my master-list! This is where all the fics I write can be found! As well as my request rules which are as follows <3

★¸.•☆•.¸★ 🅁🅄🄻🄴🅂 ★⡀.•☆•.★

Currently I will take requests for My Hero Academia, Yuri on Ice, and Harry Potter Marauders Era! This is very much subject to change depending on what fandoms I'm in at the time!

I will write mostly x reader but I'm also willing to do some character x character ships! I will also do poly relationships!

As of now I will not write smut, any yandere, or anything with extreme gore. This is also subject to change and I will do my best to write all requests but if something makes me uncomfortable or I feel I am not the right person to portray it I will not write it.

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´

My Hero:

Bakugou Katsuki (platonic/romantic)

Aizawa Shouta (platonic/romantic)

Todoroki Shouto (platonic/romantic)

Hawks (platonic/romantic)

Todoroki Touya, Dabi (platonic/romantic)

Kaminari Denki (platonic/romantic)

Iida Tenya (platonic/romantic)

Iida Tensei (romantic/platonic)

Toshinori Yagi, Allmight (platonic)

Eri (platonic)

Togata Mirio (romantic/platonic)

Sir night eye (platonic)

Shigaraki Tomura (platonic/romantic)

Kurioguri (platonic)

Shinsou Hitoshi (platonic/romantic)

Toga Himiko (platonic/romantic)

Yuri On Ice:

Viktor Nikiforov (romantic/platonic)

Yuuri Katsuki (platonic/romantic)

Yuri Plisetsky (platonic/romantic)

Mauraders Harry Potter:

Sirius Black (platonic/romantic)

Remus Lupin (platonic/romantic)

James Potter (platonic/romantic)

Regulus Black (platonic/romantic)

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ Ⓕⓘⓒⓢ ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸

My hero academia:

Bakugou Katsuki:

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´, pt. 2, pt.3

Dating bakugo head canons

Always hot Bakugou x reader head canons

Shinsou Hitoshi:

Dating him head canons

Shinsou dating Aizawa's daughter head canons

Shinso x reader soulmate au :)

Shouto Todoroki:

Shouto who likes to spend his money on you head canons

Shouta Aizawa:

Aizawa x chronically ill student reader head cannons

Yuri on Ice:

Mauraders:

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iwrite0 · 2 months ago

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Hiiiiii, I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you but please make a part 2 of that Aizawa x yn fic (titled room for one more)! It's really good and I'd love to see more of it, because his reactions actually seem accurate and canon. You haven't posted in a while, so I hope that everything is okay<33

Shouta Aizawa x Reader "Room for one more"

(PT2) PLATONIC

This is a PT 2 to the story "room for one more already posted but if you need it it's here!

The couch was stiff, and the apartment smelled faintly of coffee and cats. But it was warm. And safe. You hadn't felt either in a long time.

You blinked up at the ceiling, your limbs still tense under the blanket Aizawa had tossed over you without a word. His place was quiet, aside from the occasional creak of the building or a muffled meow from the hallway. You hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were until your eyes started to sting again—not from tears, this time, but sheer fatigue.

You’d only been there an hour, and already the gravity of what happened was starting to press down on your chest.

Your homeroom teacher had just… taken you in.

The door to the living room creaked slightly, and Aizawa stepped in, wearing his usual black sweats and a cup of coffee in hand. He didn't say anything at first, just walked past and sat in the recliner across from the couch, eyes scanning you quietly.

“I called Nezu,”

He said after a moment, voice low but not sharp.

“Told him the situation. We’ll handle the paperwork and your guardianship for now. You’re not going back there. End of story.”

You sat up slowly, the blanket sliding off your shoulders. “You’re serious?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think I came to pick you up at 2 a.m. for fun?”

“…You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure I did,” he replied simply.

“I'm responsible for your safety inside and out of school. That means something, whether you get that or not.”

His words hit somewhere deep in your chest, a warmth blooming behind your ribs, tangled with confusion and fear.

“But… what about school? I mean, I can’t just—what if someone finds out I’m living with a teacher?”

“Already considered,”

He replied, taking a sip of his tea.

“We’ll keep it quiet. Say you’re staying in one of the support dorms temporarily, and no one will ask questions. It’s not the first time UA’s had to step in for a student like this.”

You nodded slowly, chewing your lip. “I… I’m sorry, Sensei.”

“For what?” he said, frowning slightly.

“I don’t know. Everything? ”

He stared for a beat before standing up and walking to the small hallway. “Stop apologizing for surviving. That’s not your job.”

You flinched, more from the weight of his words than his tone. He disappeared down the hall, and you thought that was the end of it. But a minute later, he came back with a pillow and a proper blanket.

“You’re not a burden, kid. Not now, not ever. If anyone told you that—you were lied to.”

He dropped the blanket in your lap, then reached into his pocket and tossed something else onto the table. A small packet of sunflower seeds. You blinked down at them in confusion.

“You’ve got a plant quirk, right? Grow something in the windowsill. Could use some life in this place. It's better than hurting yourself "

The corners of your mouth twitched, just slightly.

“You’ll get through this,” he said, heading back to his room. “But in the meantime… there’s room for one more.”

He didn’t shut the door all the way, just left it cracked.

Just enough space for someone to find their way back if they got lost.

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kywaslost · 2 years ago

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Nightmares - Aizawa Shouta

A/N: There was a time when I tried to write for everyone on my masterlists. I don’t remember if I actually finished it or not, but I’m gonna try again since I’ve been working on requests for so long. I spin a wheel to choose which character, then spin another wheel to tell me what prompt theme I should go for. Today’s theme is nightmares with Aizawa. Here we go!

Prompt/s Used: A being so upset from their nightmare that they throw up

Warning/s: vomit, description of vomiting

It had been an extremely exhausting past 8 hours, and by the time you had returned from patrol with Aizawa, both having showered and eaten, the two of you were ready to call it a night. You lay beside each other under the blankets, enjoying the peacefulness that was the presence of each other. You were wrapped in Aizawa’s arms, pressed against his chest as you slowly began to fall asleep.

Somewhere between the late hours of the night the both of you had fallen asleep. You had rolled over in your sleep, back against Aizawa’s chest. He unconsciously wrapped an arm around your hips, the other resting under your head. Shouta was a light sleeper and woke up to every movement you made in the night. So when you began moving more than usual, he stirred awake.

“Y/N/N, you ok?” he grumbled deeply, taking a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he noticed the struggling expressions you were making, and the way you gripped the blanket tightly worried him. He sat up on his elbow, using the hand that was on your hip to shake you gently. “Hey, love, wake up.”

You bolted upright with a gasp, immediately choking on the sudden intake of air. You were trembling more than Aizawa had ever seen, and were struggling to take in a solid breath. The pro placed a hand on your back, rubbing smooth circles between your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down. “Sh, you’re alright. It was just a nightmare.”

You couldn’t seem to calm down and began coughing harshly. You were so scared. Your chest hurt, you kept choking on air, and you felt extremely sick to your stomach. You could feel the bile rising in your throat, and didn’t have enough time to warn Aizawa before hiccuping, vomit spilling down your chin and nightshirt. You began to cry harder, now both scared and embarrassed.

Aizawa jumped out of bed and onto his feet, careful not to jostle you too much. “Ok, it’s ok.” He heard you gag and rushed to grab the nearest container, which happened to be the small trash can you kept in the room by the dresser. He ran to grab it, then placed it in your lap as you heaved the rest of the contents of your stomach into the bin. Aizawa felt miserable knowing the only thing he could do to help you is sit with you until this was all over.

You cried as you lifted your head from the bin, glossy eyes turning to the man beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Honey don’t be sorry,” Aizawa cooed. “Never be sorry.” He ran a hand up and down your back, looking over you worriedly. “Do you feel like you may still get sick?” You shook your head, looking down to see the mess you’ve made all over yourself and the bed. “Y/N don’t worry about it.” Aizawa moved the trash bin off of your lap and onto the bed. “I’ll clean it up while you take a shower.”

After cleaning yourself and changing into a warm set of nightclothes Aizawa had set out for you, you entered your bedroom to see that your lover had changed the bedding, cracked the window, and lit your favorite candle. Said man was already under the covers, book in hand as he waited for you. You crawled in beside him, snuggling into his side and resting your head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your head.

“That must have been a nasty nightmare,” Shouta said quietly. “I know you have them often, but I’ve never seen one make you sick before.”

“They never have,” you whispered. “I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s ok.”

“Of course.” Aizawa rested his head on top of yours. “Do you think you can fall back asleep?” You shook your head almost immediately. “Alright, that’s ok. I can read to you, if you’d like.”

“Please?” Aizawa pecked the top of your head again, then picked up the book in his lap. “Sho?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” You cuddled even deeper into his side. “For everything.”

“Anything for you, love.”

#comfort #bnha #x reader #bnha comfort #platonic #bnha fluff #aizawa #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa sensei #aizawa x reader comfort #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta head canons #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa comfort #nightmare comfort

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 months ago

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Coffe and Stitches - Part 5

Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Teeny bit of angst, anxiety, mild canon spoilers, lots of crying, smidge of comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: IT'S HERE PEOPLE. The final chaper! (For now, at least) I may add more later on, might let out little blurbs here and there, but for right now, the story will hold here. It felt right. Have fun!

Enjoy~

***

The anxiety threatens to eat you alive. It’s a war, for sure, and Shouta’s acting as a general as he leads children into battle. You haven’t been allowed anywhere near UA as a civilian, even with your shiny new healer’s license. You’re stuck on the outside looking in, not knowing what’s going on or if Shouta will come out of it alive. It nearly drives you mad.

You throw yourself into work at the cafe. No more off days, you can’t be alone with your thoughts for too long or you start to spiral into a panic. Work is a welcome distraction. You work yourself to the bone just to stay sane, to keep your mind from lingering too long on Shouta and his student’s well-being. You’d never really met them, only ever seen them on the news or in passing the few times you’d visited the dorms to see Shouta. Still, you worry. They’re only kids, after all.

You nearly hit the panic button beneath the counter when a dark figure steps through the doors of the cafe, slinking in like a shadow. There’s a raggedy yellow cape hanging from his shoulders, the costume he’s wearing nearly in tatters from usage. The hood he wears is much the same, but once he shoves it off his head you swear your heart stops in its chest at the shock of unruly green hair. If he recognizes you, he doesn’t show it, and you don’t think letting him know that you recognize him will do anything but scare him off. He looks exhausted. From what Shouta’s told you, this kid has gone completely rogue. You aren’t sure if he’s even been home at all. His parents must be worried sick.

“Sorry to bother you. Is there a restroom I can use?” You point him to the bathroom, watching the way he’s walking with a tiny limp, catching the tear in his shoulder that’s leaking blood. He plays it off well. His pain tolerance is through the roof, according to his teacher. While he’s in there, you collect yourself and do what you do best. While the coffee is going you rush upstairs to grab your first aid kit and a meal you’ve got prepped in the fridge. He’s not leaving this store without some damn food. If he’s as rogue as you think, the boy hasn’t eaten a full meal in too damn long.

He comes out just as the coffee finishes- decaf, by the way. Damn kid doesn’t need caffeine. It’s been infused with your healing, but he doesn’t need to know that. You block him with your body, standing in his path to the door, setting the plate down and holding out the mug for him to take.

“Sit down. Eat.” If he really wanted to, you’re sure he could just leave. He’s training to be a pro hero, he could easily put you on your ass if he saw to it. But he doesn’t. He sits, after standing eerily still for a solid minute. You can see the tremor his body makes as the warm coffee goes down. He practically inhales the food. You grab him a large glass of water, too, just to make sure everything’s down and he’s drinking enough fluids. When he empties the glass you refill it. Twice.

“What did you put in the coffee?” You nearly jump out of your skin when he finally speaks again.

“Half and half, and a pump of vanilla.” He shakes his head, green curls bouncing around.

“No, there’s something else. My heart’s racing. My ankle’s healing. So is the cut on my shoulder.” Interesting.

“I’ve got a healing quirk. That’s what’s in the coffee.” He nods, stilling in his seat. If you look carefully enough, you can see his eyes begin to droop. Exhaustion weighs heavy on his frame, shoulders slumping, dark circles bruising beneath his eyes, head slowly dropping till his chin hits his chest. He desperately needs a good night’s sleep.

“There’s a beanbag in the back corner. Nobody will see you unless they walk over there.” He doesn’t jump at your voice, but you can see his head twitch. It doesn’t hurt to offer. You take the plate and cups to the back while he decides, and you don’t hear the door open, but when you come out you can see his green mop peeking from one of the beanbags. Good. You debate calling Shouta right about now, debate telling him his student is here. But you decided it’s better if he doesn’t know. If Midoriya hears you talking to Shouta, he’ll bolt before his teacher can even think of coming to get him. If Shouta manages to get here fast enough, the kid will probably fight like hell to get away and he’d probably succeed anyways. He doesn’t need the added stress. It’s best to just let him rest.

You busy yourself cleaning, as always. Your thoughts don’t drift far when you’re focused on the rogue teenager in the corner, listening to his soft snores and keeping the noise to a minimum. When the sky begins to lighten, you decide to go wake him. He’s a light sleeper, it seems, even when he’s exhausted. Your footsteps alone wake him. When you sit across from him, he’s alert, the bags under his eyes still prominent but not as dark. You set the paper cup of cocoa and a paper bag with a warm bagel and cream cheese on the table in front of him.

“Take it. Come back if you need food or a place to sleep.” He seems skeptical, but picks up the items anyways.

“Why are you helping me?” You heave a heavy breath.

“Shouta is worried about you. They all are.” Recognition flashes across his face, his entire body going stiff at the mention of his teacher and classmates.

“You’re Mr. Aizawa’s girlfriend.” You nod.

“I won’t tell him. It won’t change anything if I do.” His leg starts to bounce, anxiety peaking in his veins. You can see it.

“My doors are always open. If you get hurt, you can come back here. I’ll heal you, so you won’t have to deal with hospitals. I’ve got food. I’ve got a place for you to sleep. I can’t force you to come back here, and I can’t force you to trust me. But the offer stands as long as you want it to.” You leave him with that, returning behind the counter.

“People will be coming in soon, regular customers and some of my staff. If you don’t want to be seen, you should probably get going.” His nod is slow, and he stops at the register when he goes to leave.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Just stay alive.” There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, the steely gaze of a child who’s seen things he shouldn’t have, done things no child should be doing. He yanks his hood up and disappears out the door. He’s back the next night. And the night after that. Midoriya makes your little cafe a staple in his routine for two weeks. He doesn’t need healing very often, but the way he’s constantly tired reminds you a lot of his teacher.

Then the war goes into full swing. The town goes into lockdown, people are ordered to stay in their homes, shops are bunkered down. The main battles don’t take place near you, you’d know if they did. You don’t hear from Shouta at all the whole day, and even after the authorities have called it all safe and lockdown protocols are renounced, you don’t hear from him for two days.

Two long days, and when you finally hear back from him, he shows up at the cafe as a different man.

You almost don’t recognize him, lost in your cleaning frenzy this late at night, robotically greeting whoever had just walked in, barely glancing up to see a familiar mop of black hair. It’s the eyepatch that throws you off. But when you look at him, the shock to your core nearly brings you to your knees.

“Shouta?” Your heart nearly stops in your chest at his weak, weary smile. You don’t bother trying to keep yourself from sprinting over to him, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing so tight you fear he may not be able to breathe. His arms feel so good around your waist, fingers digging into your back and clawing into your shirt just to feel you. It’s frantic, the way you check him up and down and feel his pulse beneath your fingertips. As much as you hate to admit it, there was a gnawing fear at the back of your head that he’d never come back to you. Then the tears start, and you can’t hold yourself together for this part, falling to your knees with Shouta following you down to the floor to hold you close.

“Shh, don’t cry. I’m here, I’m alright I promise.” You have half a mind to shake him like a ragdoll, but you can’t even think beyond the bleeding relief. You have no idea how long you spend like that, on the floor, kneeling and sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. It’s an accumulation of the long nights you’d spent not knowing what was happening, not knowing if he was dead or injured and not being able to help at all. Fuck that stupid license, it didn’t do you any favors.

“Shouta, your eye.” You let your fingertips trace along the bottom of the patch, feeling the edge of the scar that cuts down through his skin. It intersects the older one that curves along his cheekbone. He nods, holding you to his chest.

“It’s alright. I’ve got another one.” It must have hurt, at least a little bit. As long as he’s alright though, that’s what really matters. If only your quirk could regenerate, not just heal. Confusion manages to break through all the stress and relief when you lean into him and something hard pokes into your calf, something solid and distinctly not human or alive at all. It doesn’t go away when you look down and see his own leg. But that can’t be right, since human legs don’t feel like that.

“Don’t panic. I’m okay. It was unavoidable.”

“Why would I panic? What are you talking about?” He doesn’t verbally answer, but instead reaches down and yanks the cuff of his pants up to his knee. His shin isn’t flesh and bone anymore. No, it’s metal. He’s got a shiny new prosthetic below the knee, the rest of his leg completely out of the picture. In your stunned silence, Shouta reaches out and taps on the metal.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. It was either cut the damn thing off or lose my quirk completely. And if I lost my quirk, I may have lost my life, and probably a lot more lives.” Tears fall once again at the absurdity of the situation. He was forced to choose between his limb or his quirk.

“Oh, don’t cry love, I'm okay.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just not fair to you.” His chuckle is dry, void of any real humor.

“I know. It was a split-second decision. There wasn’t time to think about it, it was a judgement call.” Split-second?

“They didn’t even try to save it? That’s the kind of ultimatum they gave you? What kind of doctors do that?” You can see him swallow around the lump in his throat. He really doesn’t want to tell you the next part, you know it.

“It was a little more urgent than that. I had to amputate it in the middle of battle, after getting shot with a quirk-eliminating bullet.” Wait. Wait. Is he saying…

“Shouta…are you telling me you cut off your own leg?” You can hear the tremble in your own voice as the question comes out, and judging from his silence, that’s exactly what he had to do. With trembling hands, you grab his face to look him in the eye.

“You were forced to cut off your own leg?” He nods in your hands, and you’re breaking down all over again. You can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pain and fear he must have felt in that moment.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Shouta.” You’re being tugged into his chest again, weeping into his shirt like you’re being paid to do it. This is the life of a pro-hero, it seems, and all you can do is sob. He’s probably already made his peace with it, but you still feel the sadness for him. Forced to choose in a single moment to either keep your limb or keep your life.

“Sweetheart, please. I’m alright. I’m alive, and I may be missing a couple pieces but I’m here.” Weakly, you nod into his chest.

“I know. I know but…it must have hurt so bad. You must have been terrified. How do you make that kind of decision? How do you force yourself to endure that kind of excruciating pain and keep going?” Rough fingers brush the stray hairs from your face, wipe the tears as they fall, holding you together.

“I had to get back. Back to the kids, back to Eri. Back to you.” He kisses you then, sweetly, gently, and feeling him with you, feeling his breath fanning over your face, feeling the heat of his skin on yours is enough to ground you. He’s here. He’s alive. He came back to me.

That’s all you could ask for, really. That he comes back to you.

#shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa

16 notes · View notes

alienaiver · 1 year ago

Text

Rugged

Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader

warnings: quirk-induced amnesia, canon minor character death (major in my heart tho), spoilers for... season 5 and forth? to be safe wordcount: 4.9k content: confessions, first kiss, fluff, sfw, no use of y/n, pro hero reader but quirk is unspecified, canon compliant, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, body positive reader, hurt/comfort in like the mildest sense, soft love, amnesia situation, friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, started as a meme turned into something serious, something about cats, unbeta'd, flashbacks to high school days

notes: this is so embarassing to admit but i only came up with this story bcos of that tiktok/insta reel (link is a tiktok as thats where i could find the source material) about having a type that's 'rugged'. it was supposed to just turn into a little joke on that and... uh, ykno suddenly i was almost 5k deep into a childhood friends to lovers, ..ya my brain had a VISION alrighty!!!!! please enjoy a one-eyed kitty, one-eyed aizawa and interrupted confessions!

Aizawa’s leaning forward on the desk, meticulously writing down an exact copy of your notes from English Literature that he missed yesterday due to being in the infirmary… again. He’s always known that becoming a Pro Hero with a non-physical quirk would be tough, but he didn’t imagine landing himself in a hospital bed as often as he does. He’s bulking up nicely, but he feels beaten black and blue every other day and it’s… exhausting.

Rewarding, but exhausting nonetheless. He’s momentarily disturbed as a chair is being dragged across the floor, screeching away before haphazardly thrown next to the desk, wrong side facing it, and Yamada throwing himself onto it, arms leaning on the backrest. He says your name in a sing-song voice – your given name, has he no shame? - and steals a peek of you from over the rim of his glasses. You rest your head in your palm and smile at him, “what’s up?” you ask, and he hums as if he’s thinking deeply about something. Aizawa’s got a bad feeling about whatever subject he’s about to bring up; ever since he appointed himself Aizawa’s wing man, the pestering’s both been non-stop and non-discreet.

Aizawa keeps his face buried in the notes, purposefully removing himself from the conversation.

“What’s your type?” Yamada asks and Aizawa has to hold back a facepalm. You simply giggle and play with the zipper from your pencil case before you answer, “hmm, I’m not sure. But with all due respect, I know it’s not you,” you tease him and he straightens his back in mock-surprise, the conversation’s one you’ve had before. He takes a hand to his chest, “what? Not me? Well you’re not my type either!” the shriek in which he yells is a little too loud, his quirk still a little too unmanageable when he gets excited – he winces as the rest of the class turn their heads. You simply laugh and bite your lower lip. Aizawa steals a look at you through his bangs, admiring the glimmer in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry ‘Zashi, I truly am, but… you’re just not… rugged enough.”

“What? I’m so rugged. I can be rugged!”

“Look at you, you’re not rugged,” you laugh as you gesture vaguely to… all of him. He takes offense as he puffs up his chest, “how am I not rugged? Because I’m not wearing a flannel in 80 degree weather?”

You hide your face in your hand as you try to contain your laughter, “yeah, sure, whatever… but look at you now. You fly off the handle like that, you’re too angry.”

“That’s a very rugged thing to do!”

“No, it’s really not.”

Aizawa has been saddled with the two of you for almost two semesters now, and he’s still not entirely used to the way you joke around. In the beginning he was always worried about you fighting and not getting along and he’d stare at you both with wide eyes like a startled cat and hope you’d settle down soon. You always did, laughing like the greatest joke was just told.

You lean forward on the table to bark out a laughter deep from your stomach, momentarily blocking the view of your notes that Aizawa’s copying. He lets out a soundless grunt at you being so close and pulls away in surprise when he accidentally smell your shampoo. He wants to lean forward again, to commit the scent to memory, but you’re already straightened back up, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye, “you don’t even want me, Hizashi, why is this always so important to you?”

This makes Aizawa freeze, terrified that Yamada will accidentally tell his secret to you. But Yamada simply crosses his arms, puffs up his cheeks and nods, “you’re right, I don’t. But I want you to want me. I’m the entire package.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting your arm fall onto the desk in defeat. “Sure then, ‘Zashi. I want you. Badly. More than anything. Please go out with me.” your face is as flat as Aizawa’s can be, and Yamada smiles proudly, “no thank you.”

Aizawa’s startled out of grading papers when his personal phone starts ringing next to him on the desk, the screen much too bright for the darkened room he’s situated in. It’s an unknown caller, which makes him hesitant at first but since it’s well past office hours, he knows it won’t be a salesman of any sort.

He bites his lower lip before he picks up.

“Aizawa speaking.”

“Ah, good evening. I apologize for contacting you at this hour, however, you are written down as the emergency contact for…” he apologetically butchers the pronunciation of your name, but gets your hero name correctly, “this is Aizawa Shouta, right?” the person on the other end confirms, and Aizawa nods before he verbally comes up with an answer.

“Well, it’s just that…” he explains your situation precariously, advising Aizawa to just come down to the station if he’s able, since someone will need to escort you home. He makes sure to remind Aizawa that you have two more emergency contacts on file in case he’s not available, but after getting the location, he’s already up from the chair before he’s hung up with the poor officer dealing with you.

From the call he knows you’re neither mortally wounded or in any kind of distress. You were on patrol when you encountered two villains. One of them turned out to have an amnesia quirk, and now you were stuck at the precinct, not entirely sure where your apartment is located. The officer informed Aizawa that you seemed calm and collected but that the last date you remember was well over 10 years ago even if you haven’t age-regressed in any way.

When he arrives, the officer leads him to one of the offices, profusely apologizing and thanking him at the same time. He’ll never really get used to the way newly appointed officers act around Pro Heroes.

Even if all facts and rationale tells Aizawa that you’re fine, he still grips the door handle way too tight, throwing open the door and evidently scaring the shit out of you, sprawled out on the couch with an ice bag on your knee. You spew out some profanities as you sit up. Aizawa immediately calms down as he sees you alive and well. He thanks the officer and agrees with the officer to sit down and talk with you before taking you home. He bows before he closes the door and looks back at you.

“I already gave a statement – was anything missing?” you ask, resting your hands neatly on your thighs. Aizawa shakes his head, “I came to pick you up – they informed you about which of the emergency contacts to call, right?”

Realization seems to travel across your features as Aizawa masks the sting he feels. Instinctively you reach out, but ultimately pull your hands back, “Aizawa?”

For a split second he lets his emotion show on his face – the way you say his last name instead of his given name, but he’s quick to hide it again. He nods and sits down on one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, “I was informed that your memory’s been wiped.”

You nod and look at the floor, “yeah. They took in the villains and interrogated them. It seems it’ll wear off in five to seven hours, but until then I’m stuck with my first work study as my most recent memory. I don’t feel like high school me, though, it’s just like there’s an empty gap in my timeline and not an age-related kind of thing. I can’t remember what has happened since then, but cognitively speaking, I’m still myself.”

Aizawa breathes in sharply, “well, that’s a relief. I have enough students to take care of,” he dryly jokes and the way your eyes widen make him self-conscious. He shouldn’t have made the joke he thinks as he shrinks in on himself.

“You’re a teacher?”

The way you ask betrays your emotions all too clearly and Aizawa holds back a snort. If the last of his personality you remember is high school, he gets why you struggle with the image of him taking care of the budding youth.

“A homeroom teacher, actually.”

Whatever preconceptions you had initially seems to dissipate and you smile proudly, “that’s amazing.”

You haven’t commented on his appearance; besides the moment where you didn’t recognize him, you don’t seem all too taken aback by his lack of eye and prosthetic leg. He’s relieved.

“You ready to go?” he asks, patting his lap with his palms before bracing himself to get up. You get up too and stretch your arms over your head, waiting for that satisfying pop, but it never comes. Annoyed, you let your arms falls and Aizawa smiles at you.

He leads you out of the room and as you put on the jacket he came with, he thanks the officers for their work with some polite back and forth and a bow.

The trip back is quiet as you seem to just take in your surroundings. You stop by your Agency to grab your personal items and civilian clothes that you left behind before your patrol. Luckily the offices are mostly cleared out, so you don’t have to ‘meet’ everyone and Aizawa gets out of explaining everything to everyone.

“Do you want me to escort you to your place? Or do you want to come to mine?”

The question is straight-forward and innocent; you sleep over so often that Aizawa’s spare futon has simply been dubbed your futon, but you seem taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment Aizawa’s blind to the confusion before he remembers.

“Sorry, you sleep over at my place a lot since it’s close to your work. I thought you might also like to see Benben.”

Your eyes that had seemed so tired ever since he arrived, lights up in recollection and excitement, “Benben’s alive and well?” you ask, absentmindedly leaning into Aizawa’s space in your joy. He struggles not to lean back reflectively.

“Yeah, she’s living with me now. She’s becoming old, though. But you’re still her favorite human, so she’d be happy to see you too.”

You giggle into your palm, clearly trying to picture Benben. She was a stray that you and Aizawa started to feed your leftover lunches to back during your first year at U.A. She was also one of the reasons you even started bonding with the stoic classmate. When you talk about the name Benben, a very bad nickname based off of bento, you always laugh and tease Aizawa about his cat-naming skills. While he defends himself in front of Yamada – the man with a habit of getting out his childish side – he never once argues against you on that subject.

Next to Aizawa, you clear your throat right as he’s about to unlock his front door. He’s been polite enough to not comment on the level of staring you’ve done ever since he picked you up, but it seems to be getting too much for yourself. He smiles at you gently, like he’s communicating with a lost child, and the smile makes you act before you can think too long about the action. Aizawa’s breath hitches and whole body freezes when your cold fingertips reach the skin of his cheeks. Your eyes look at him like they’re searching for something, and shortly after your palms make contact, your thumbs start traveling around his face, from his eyebrows to the slope of his nose and then a finger is being traced over the scar under his right eye. He can see all the questions fly through your head, the way you hold back from tracing the eye patch but stare at it like it’s not supposed to be there. He’s about to clear his throat when a thumb starts tracing his chapped lips before continuing down to his jawline, tickling his 5 o’clock shadow. As he tries to smile patiently at you, you mumble something under your breath that makes Aizawa’s heart stop for just a moment too long before racing at the same speeds as Yamada’s car when he’s late.

“It really is you… you’re just so…” you pause for a moment to swallow thickly and lick your lips, “…rugged.”

Not until you’ve had your (in Aizawa’s terms) grabby little fingers on every part of his face and given his heart an aneurysm with your words, does realization hit you. You seem to shrink and pull away to bow half-way a few times at him. Aizawa grumbles out a weak complaint about personal space and jingle the keys again to find the right one. No matter how advanced his work place is in terms of security and technology, he finds it unbelievable how many different types of keys he is expected carry for the school grounds alone. Logically, he’s aware that he’s fumbling due to your innocent advances but his brain’s not exactly acting calm and rational, so he furrows his brows and as he puts in the correct key, takes in a deep, calming breath.

When he motions for you to enter the apartment, he can’t help but observe you as you curiously peek around while you enter. You don’t toe off your shoes or step up from the genkan until the door behind him is locked and he gestures to the left pair of slippers in front of you. You let out a breath as you mumble, “sorry for intruding…” as if this isn’t your home away from home.

As Aizawa toes off his own shoes, he takes notice of your searching eyes. He jerks his head towards the living room, “she’s probably sleeping on the couch. She can’t hear very well anymore, so she doesn’t greet by the door.”

There’s a clear sort of heartbreak in your eyes that Aizawa recognizes, before you nod and walk in the direction of the living room. While your memory might be gone for the moment, it seems there’s muscle memory still intact as you purposefully step over the loose floorboard he always warns guests about. He smiles at that. Benben seems to spot you from her pillow on the couch because no sooner than you enter the room, he starts hearing the hoarse bleating of the senior kitty in there. She must’ve stayed up when Aizawa suddenly left, since it’s out of routine. She’s never been able to meow properly, which enchanted you since she first bleated at you for a bite of your convenience store-bought onigiri back when the two of you met her for the first time.

He hears you coo at her and can only imagine you both before he turns the other corner for his office to shut down the computer for the night. He quickly rejoins you and finds you with Benben on your lap, purring and headbutting your hands to her heart’s contents. When his eye travel higher to meet yours, he’s taken aback momentarily at the strained smile and wet eyes.

“She looks so loved.” you try to explain, and Aizawa can’t hold back the blush from the compliment. She does look loved now, a little on the fuller side (not by a lot, as her physical health is very important to Aizawa), her coat is shiny despite the coarseness that age brings, and she no longer has that stubborn eye infection it took Aizawa several years to treat out of her; she’s missing an eye now as a result, but she’s healthy.

You look around his living room, smiling and heaving in breaths at all the external proofs for her love; she has a pet staircase to both the windowsill, couch and the dining chair next to his; there are three different cat towers and several cat shelves for her to perch on although they’ve rarely been used for several years now. Aizawa can’t bear to take them down – what if she wants to go on one last adventure to the shelf highway he built for her close to the ceiling? It obviously wouldn’t be safe for her to do so, but robbing her of the options feels cruel to his heart.

When you pet her behind her ear and Aizawa situates himself on the floor pillow, you giggle, “you match.”

You’re referring to the missing eyes and while Aizawa takes no offense from the comment, he can’t help but snort at the straightforward observation. It’s very like you.

“How did you lose it?”

You don’t remove your eyes from Benben as you ask and from the shaky lilt to your voice, he knows you’re afraid of the answer. He’s afraid of telling you, too.

So much bad has happened during those years – you were there during his low points after, and asking that question is like removing the experiences you’ve shared. The grief you’ve suffered.

But he knows you want to know. Before he can answer, you continue, “can you tell me everything? About you… Oboro and Hizashi, too. I was informed it was only you, Hizashi and my mom on my emergency contact list. I know it’s not supposed to be miles long but… yeah…” you trail off and Aizawa’s grateful that you’re not looking at him. He’s not sure he’s able to control his face right now; and the emotion he’s showing wouldn’t be remotely close to soothing for you.

“Uh,” he jerks and clears his throat several times to stall, “when did you say your memory would be back?” he asks instead even if he’s aware of the answer.

You look up and hum thoughtfully, “they said five to seven hours around … two hours ago? So…” you count on your fingers and despite everything, Aizawa huffs out a soundless laugh, “three to five hours? Give or take.”

He inhales sharply. He can’t drive you off for that long, even if he used going to bed as an excuse. You’d just toss and turn in fear of what you’d come to remember.

So he tells you. He retells every painful memory with clear objectivity, pausing to let you process each one, seeing the light slowly dissipate in your eyes for every terrible incident. When he reaches present day, he inhales slowly and holds his breath for a moment to control his own emotions.

You’ve stopped petting Benben who’s sound asleep on your lap now, your hands hanging like lifeless limbs by your side. Aizawa then clears his throat, “you were scouted. In third year. ‘Zashi opened a radio station shortly after graduation. Oboro’s mom still invites us for hotpot for his birthday every year despite the mismatch in dish and weather,” you both laugh at that one – of course she insists on his favorite dish on such an important day. An image of the four of you huddled around, sweating over a pot of delicious food has you throwing your head back in sincere laughter, “you have a prodigy; you inspired me to take a pupil on as well, and he’s graduating this spring… I, uh… I use eye drops now.”

The last tidbit of information makes you turn your head so fast you almost get whiplash. Then, your expression turns stern, “didn’t I tell you! Didn’t I tell you to be careful!” you reprimand and he almost rolls his eye at you. Almost.

You shake your head at him and focus back on Benben, a little more color on you again as the mood has successfully shifted. He’s unsure if you’re pretending to be fine for his sake or if he actually succeeded in making you feel better, but he can’t stifle the yawn that comes out of him as soon as he feels relief.

You look up apologetically, “oh my God I’m so sorry, I’ve kept you up haven’t I? Please, you can just go to bed, I’ll be okay!”

Aizawa wants to argue but he also can’t fight the creaky ache he feels in his bones. He went straight from a night shift to school, napped in the teacher’s lounge and then home to grade papers. He’s dead-tired.

He gets up to carry his futon into the living room and set yours up in his bedroom. Usually, you sleep in the same, bare room as him and Benben, but he feels it might be too much for you without your memories, even if you sleep on separate futons with space in between. You make a joke about the futons but then, in a soft voice admit, “I think it’s nice you sleep on something accessible for Benben…” there’s a warm tone to your voice that makes him blush heavily before he pushes you out of his living room.

“I’ll sleep out here, you take the bedroom.”

You meekly argue about taking his bedroom, but he shuts you down in the same way he’s always done, and urges you to carry Benben in with you. You agree to have the door ajar in case Benben wants to walk around, and you bow your head when you bid him goodnight. Aizawa lets the light in the hallway stay on.

////

You wake up with a hitched breath and sweat on your brow, unsure when you managed to fall asleep. Disoriented, you take in Aizawa’s bedroom; you were supposed to sleep home tonight after your shift though, not to mention that Aizawa’s futon isn’t laid out next to yours. It takes you a moment to gather your bearings until it all comes back to you. You’d lost your memory.

You’d lost yourself. You hug your arms around you as the feeling of being lost still sits heavy in your body and makes you shiver. Seeing Aizawa was terrifying; you’d no idea of the obvious horrors he’d had to endure. You didn’t remember your best friend’s death.

For a moment you control your breathing, making yourself calm down as best as you’re able. It makes sense why Aizawa decided to sleep in the living room, if the last memory of him was a pimple-y teenager and not the gruff man he is today. You close your eyes and think back to right before you entered the apartment.

You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands, letting out a drawn-out flustered groan. Without thinking, you kick your legs on the bedding to alleviate the embarrassment that’s coursing through you at your own actions. You’d just went all up in his face! The sensation of his stubble underneath your fingertips, his warm breath and his chapped but so, so kissable lips.

No!

You groan again, drowning in your one-sided misery of a crush. Your honed Pro Hero senses are completely dulled by your pining, so when Aizawa suddenly throws open the door and asks if you are alright, you screech as you lift your head from the pillow, “Shouta!”

“Shit, sorry, I heard you moving around so I thought you might have a nightmare,” he hurries to explain, secretly relieved to hear you say his given name again. He frowns when he can’t see your face with your back turned to him. Still frozen, you barely breathe before he continues, “...you are alright, right?”

Making a grimace and with no interest in facing him right now, you choke out “mhmyepdefinitelyeverythingsperfect!” in one single breath before you’re forced to inhale deeply. You hear Aizawa’s metallic foot as he walks towards your futon and hear the rustling of his clothes as he bends down in a squat next to you, “you don’t sound perfectly fine to me, though. Do you have a fever? Is it an aftershock from getting your memories back?”

Being the perfectly rational man that he is, he oversteps any boundaries to quickly check your temperature with his palm. Embarrassment can come after he’s made sure you’re okay.

You push his hand away weakly, still looking pointedly at the wall in front of you, letting out a strained laugh, “heehee, I’m just… you’re right, it must be an aftershock, right? Nothing else!”

He lets you swat his hand away without much resistance but stays where he is, letting the silence hang over you both for a minute. Suddenly, he croaks out all hoarse and desperate, “Just tell me if there’s anything, please.”

Your shoulders fall at the voice. Aizawa’s the opposite of having a heart on a sleeve, but you’ve been with him through enough tragedies to know he must be scared shitless right now. Whenever you or Yamada is even remotely bruised, he fusses over you in his own, annoyed way, until he finds you sufficiently healed. You sigh before you let your head fall back onto your pillow, a short moment to gather your thoughts and feelings before having to face him.

It must’ve been a lot for him, when you asked him to recount the years you’d momentarily lost. It would’ve been better to let it be, but he knew you so well and knew you wouldn’t let it go. Curiosity kills the cat, right?

With heavy and slow movement, you turn around so that you’re facing him, hoping your expression won’t betray your real emotions. You sigh and reach out for his hand. It’s shaking but as soon as your warm fingers make contact, he flinches before he relaxes.

Then, he grunts like he’s annoyed and chastises you for worrying him. You giggle, “I’m sorry, you’re tired, right?” you ask, knowing his schedule this week is packed. He usually leaves little wiggle room for emergencies, however many he encounters.

Before he can reply, you pull at his hand and he topples over, half on the futon and half on the floor, on his knees. You laugh and pull him even closer to you, hoping your beating heart isn’t as loud as it feels.

You and Aizawa have cuddled before; loneliness and grief has made you carve out comfort in each other, but nothing else have ever been spoken aloud. No kissing, no romantic notions to trace back to. Having a one-sided crush since high school feels deafening right now, when all the years travel back to you after what only amounts to a moment without them.

You want to tell him how you feel; losing your memories made you realize how much you’d like for him to comfort you with kisses if anything should ever happen; how you’d like for him to hold you without holding back.

He grumbles where his head is rested in your neck after he’s settled, but he makes no effort to move. You nuzzle into the mane of hair and breathe in his scent; it’s a lavender-scented shampoo that Yamada insists on buying for him. He never accepts it without complaining, but he also never showers without using it. There’s a spare in your bathroom, at the Agency’s bathroom and at his teacher’s dorm at U.A.

“Y’know, I was really surprised for a moment that you became a teacher.”

He makes no movement, but you know he’s listening.

“But as soon as I thought about it, it made perfect sense. You care so much it sometimes hurts to watch…”

You feel his fist tighten around your bedding, but he stays otherwise quiet still.

“You hurt watching me, too, right? How we both have a habit of bending over backwards for what we perceive is right.”

You start dragging your hands through his hair, letting out a sigh.

“I like that we know each other so well. I like how after so many years, you’re still right here in my arms…”

You pause as his upper arm snakes around you, a sharp exhale against your neck.

“You’ve never dated anyone. At least, not anyone you’d tell me about, so I have no idea where this will lead me to but,”

You take a moment to gather your nerves. There’s really no backing down now. Even if you regret it, your words have already given your feelings away; there’s nothing you can take back.

There’s nothing you want to take back.

You’re about to continue your confession when Aizawa pushes against your neck, his warm lips, soft despite the dryness, presses against your pulse point. You can hear your heartbeat so loud in your ear that the rustling of the sheets from Benben is indistinguishable to you, the only sensation you’re able to take in being Aizawa’s lips as they briefly pull away from your neck, only to push back higher up, closer to your jaw.

You whine and pout, but it’s shaky and without much force. You want to protest, scold him for interrupting you but suddenly he lifts his head to face you, and you’re faced with wide eyes and blown pupils. He steals a glance at your lips before he licks his own, pink tongue peeking out. You feel like a cornered prey, one that’s about to be devoured by a beast. When he hovers mere millimeters above your lips he pauses as if to ask for permission and the sigh you let out makes him know that everything’s okay. That everything he’s ever wanted, wished for, dreamed of, is real.

That losing your memory for a second made you desperate to make more meaningful ones.

And you kiss.

While curiosity did kill the cat, satisfaction definitely brought it back.

#its been a while since i wrote and posted a full blown fic so im suddenly nervous........ in like the way i used to be when i started! its #little fun to feel that way again after 30+ works!!!#aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #aizawa shouta fluff #reader insert #nohr.writing #nohr.bnha #i honestly MOSTLY hope that this is coherent. i really did shift my perspective half way in bcos i like to flesh out pain apparently KJDASK #ilysm yall<3333 hope u enjoy this smooching offering

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rabbitsonthemoon · 11 months ago

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MHA fic plot bunny (eraserdust-ish??? but not really???)

remember when I said I didn't /think/ I'd put any mature content on this blog? hahaha. same vibes as me thinking I'd 'just' write 20k words of a story. I mean, does it count if they don't actually do anything smutty? just that the subject is mature and has sexual themes??? Anyway I'll put it below the cut just in case, advert your eyes if it's not your cuppa.

tw: sex pollen (but not in the way you think), dubcon (in the sense that this Would Not Be Happening At All if not for the sex pollen), sexual themes, fear of noncon (due to misunderstandings), kidnapping, no smut, no romance, no feelings, kind of fuck or die but not really, Tomura is asexual in this one.

got bitten on the ankle by a plot bunny. mature rated MHA fic, partly crack treated seriously, about Shigaraki getting hit with a sex pollen-esque quirk in an attempt to weaken the LOV, except it does take asexuality into account so instead of being overwhelmed by lust and falling apart he's just. so fucking annoyed. so miserable. so done. his cock is not allowed to take that tone with him. the only relief that works for him is physical contact. cuddling and touching. except he doesn't want to touch anyone because of his quirk. he doesn't want to risk dusting one of his party members and the list of people allowed in his personal space is very. sad.

this is after Kurogiri got yoinked and before they found gigantomachia (canon who?), which might help explain why there were only one brain cell left in the LOV. They want to help Tomura, of course. He's miserable and the quirk lasts as long as a common cold if it's left to its own devices. They're also broke as hell. They really wish Kurogiri was there. He would know what to do. As far as a sabotage plot goes, quirking up Shigaraki to weaken the league is unfortunately working, just not in the intented way. he's miserable and it's everyone's problem. the itching is worse than ever and there's only so many spare shirts they're willing to rip up for bandages. point is, they're getting desperate.

and never underestimate the desperation of idiots.

they turn from looking at villains to looking at heroes. obviously it has to be an adult. which removes a hilariously sad amount of people from the pool because most of their heroic beef has been with a class of teenagers.

hey, how about their teacher? the one who erases quirks? tomura is still in absolute misery and completely misses the Signs That Something Is Amiss when he gets asked for his opinion on Eraserhead (he's still cool, wish he was a recruitable party member, his quirk would be useful).

fortunately for them, there's a feral cat hanging around their latest hideout that the whole league has been feeding, like the most poorly-kept secret. the cat is plump and trusting. heroes do things like rescue innocent animals, right?

perfect pro hero bait.

(the amount of heroes who would actually fall for this is a statistical error. Aizawa Shouta, who follows stray cats during his time off, is an anomaly and should not be counted)

cool. pro hero successfully captured. they have until he doesn't show up for his next class before the entire wrath of Yuuei and most of the underground heroics network comes down on their heads. Compress caught him in a marble. Cat was a paid actor and compensated with tuna. Cat is fatter and happier. unfortunately they have to. you know. let him out. It's a bit like trying to prepare and hype up the team to release a pissed-off lion.

cannot emphasise enough what a Terrible No Good Day this is for Aizawa. His evening plans consisted of changing into the comfiest pink sweatpants he has, finishing some grading, and falling asleep on top of the papers. This was not what he signed up for when he followed a weird little girl (disguised Toga) into an alleyway because he heard a cat and was told it needed rescuing. Now he's surrounded by the villains who attacked Class 1-A.

For the LOV, trying to explain themselves while trying to avoid getting their throats ripped out by a underground pro hero with a grudge is a WHOLE different kind of problem. they are. a lot more scared of him than he realizes. and that was before he pulled out the big knife!

In the League's defense, it never crossed their minds that getting into a four-way brawl with Eraser (Toga took a long hike with the cat) while explaining that they kidnapped him because Shigaraki's been hit with a sex pollen quirk and they ran out of options really wasn't A+ communication.

Shigaraki gets drawn to the fuss (read: they're being so fucking noisy while he's trying to sleep through the quirk) and it sure is a moment. misunderstanding cleared very fast, but Dabi is not getting those torn staples back, Twice is very grateful that his mask protected his eyes, and Spinner is Googling if mutant quirk-types can get rabies.

Eraser is suspicious as hell of the whole thing, but the ordeal sounds so stupid that he kind of believes it on principle. he's very glad that the cat is fine. the cat honestly wins more trust than any reassurance that he isn't under any obligation to stay, they just need help and couldn't think of any better way to make him hear them out than kidnapping him. still not allowed to know where he is, though, because it's a nice hideout. (Shigaraki has never come closer to dusting his own teammates.).

Because he's terrifyingly logical and efficient, Eraser is actually hearing them out + he's an absolute demon to bargain with. They get their human hot water bottle that doesn't mind being the recipient of a quirked-up Tomura's clinginess, he gets a free nap and valuable intel about the LOV's future plans and members. Probably nothing the police wouldn't have found eventually, but very neatly packaged instead of taking months to piece together. Sexual intimacy is off the table. He'll Erase Tomura's quirk if he feels threatened. The eye drops stay close by. Either of them can back out at any time. Eraser keeps his mouth shut for privacy's sake. They owe him a bottle of whiskey for the inconvenience and a fucking week of going radio silent on villain work. He wants regular updates on the cat. They keep their end of the bargain, he'll keep his.

Shigaraki would die from embarrassment if he didn't already feel like he was dying from touch starvation. Good thing Eraser is very warm and pliable (caterpillar man), and has seen far too much to be fazed by this. probably knows a thing or two about ways to alleviate the suffering caused by the quirk, like heaping on any pillows and blankets from around the hideout. It's still awkward, of course. Sleepover from hell for both of them basically. There's an inherent sort of trust you need for this that is. not fucking there. but Eraser is trustworthy. even when Tomura's body is reacting with arousal dialed up to eleven, much to his dismay. It's like a sick day. But kinky. Except communication and understanding skips the kinky. Probably the most healthy interaction he's had. (yikes).

ofccourse you can't be cuddling the enemy through a sex pollen buzz without some kind of angst! Tomura isn't going to lie around all day, and his new Erasure hero blanket is portable. You bet he's still being a restless, scratchy bastard, playing his video games, trying to pretend the league isn't hovering like flies. And sure, Eraser's job here is just to laze around for Shigaraki to cling onto, but his trauma??? adoptable??? senses are tingling. Tomura says the most fucked up little things, nestled in those long rants about enemy hitboxes and the plague of heroic society and That Ending Was Bullshit, Actually.

The LOV are running out of nails to bite. doesn't help that Eraser is observant as hell and clocking them whether they like it or not. Kidnapping a pro hero with the keenest fucking sight was A Mistake, Actually, but by now Tomura is satisfied with the arrangement and it's too late for regrets. Eraser's phone might ring, might be Mic because he had a weird feeling today was a prime day for his friend to get kidnapped by villains while looking for a cat under suspicious circumstances, or something. well. his gut wasn't wrong, but Eraser's got it handled, and he wins more trust tokens by rolling a nat 20 on deception, all good here, see you tomorrow, grab me a coffee.

I think in the end the real winner here is the cat. Nothing but a good time for that spoiled little bastard. If Eraser accidentally slightly tames the LOV like a pack of feral cats by proxy, that's entirely covered by their NDA. The quirk breaks by the next day. It's a struggle to get Eraser to leave, because he's having a very comfortable sleep for once + staying in the captivity of the LOV is marginally nicer than being the homeroom teacher of the hell class. Perils of opening your secret villain hideout to the prince of sleep.

They tempt him out with the cat.

I'm gonna write this one into a full fic. ❤️ I'm craving sweets that the bakery (Ao3) does not have!!! I'll make my own then. >:3

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #the rabbit writes #fanfiction #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #eraserdust #but it's not really #take a smut trope and mash it together with an asexual villain and a man married to the concept of naptime #the most convoluted series of events that leads to cuddles #no cats were harmed in the making of this post #in fact it's the opposite of anything #i wrote Tomura as asexual in this because there is nothing in this existence capable of stopping my plot bunnies #scenario #felt cute gonna write a whole fic about it later

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serasarahhhh · 1 year ago

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Author: Maxine Pairings: BakuDeku Rating: R Chapters: 14/? Notes: Accidental quirk shenanigans result in an unplanned pregnancy. Post-canon, no a/b/o dynamics. Summary: It's not that Katsuki didn't want kids. He figured he'd have them one day, probably. That he and Izuku would adopt or maybe figure something else out. This is NOT how it was supposed to go. ~~~~~ CHAPTER 14 “OI!” Katsuki barks at the rest of the room, even though most of its occupants are already staring at him with arched eyebrows. He swallows as everyone else turns their attention toward him, trying not to fidget in place or do anything that would make him fall. He’s not exactly at his usual level of coordination these days. “Real quick. Uh. I know I was kind of a last-minute addition to the staff roster and maybe some of you are wondering what the hell I’m doing here.” “Recovering from a thing!” Present Mic shouts, and then gives him a double thumbs up when Katsuki scowls. At his side, Vlad King starts snickering. “No – goddammit.” Katsuki huffs. “Look, I’ve been off field work for a few weeks and was getting sick of hanging around my agency not doing shit.” He tips his head in Tsuyu’s direction. “Froppy here was nice enough to suggest letting me double up with her and somehow we got Principal Nezu onboard. Probably just taking pity on me, but whatever. I’m gonna be even more of a pain for you people to deal with than I was in school because…” Katsuki cuts both hands in toward his stomach, more or less framing the bulging curve there. “I’m pregnant. Got hit with a Quirk. Shit happened. It’s Deku’s.” He puffs out a breath and jerks forward into a slight bow. “Thanks in advance for putting up with me, I guess.” “Young Bakugou, please get down,” All Might hisses out in an overly frantic tone, and this time Katsuki does as told. He even accepts the hand the older man holds out to assist him. “See, now that explains it,” a gruff voice says. Katsuki looks up to find Hound Dog stroking the bottom of his muzzle in a thoughtful sort of way. Most of the rest of the room seems completely unphased – likely a byproduct of having years under their belts as both pro heroes and teachers who’ve mentored hundreds of students with all manner of Quirks. They’ve all seen some shit, Katsuki realizes, and the bit of tension that had locked up his shoulders abruptly drains away. This probably isn’t even close to the weirdest thing any of them have dealt with. “Explains what?” Katsuki asks, somewhat warily. Hound Dog shrugs. “Your smell.” “…What?” “You smell pregnant. It was throwing me off.” “WHAT?!” “Maaaan, you’ve gotta share things like that!” Present Mic yells over at Houng Dog. “Spill the tea, share the juice, give me the gossip! How many times do I gotta tell you?!” “Way too early,” Aizawa grumbles again. He pulls open a drawer of a nearby desk and whips out a yellow sleeping bag that’s seen far better days. “Somebody wake me up when the opening ceremony starts.” “Shouta, did you know?” Present Mic demands, spinning toward him before Aizawa can fully disappear beneath the desk. “Shouta! HEY. Did you know??” “Oh man, I’m so glad I signed on this year,” Tokage utters in awe. She looks a little too gleeful, honestly. “This is great.” Tsuyu nods in agreement. “I wonder if it’s always this eventful.” “What the fuck does he mean, I smell pregnant,” Katsuki asks, scandalized. “Is that a fucking thing? Do I stink??” “It’s just his Quirk, Bakugou.” Tsuyu gives him a reassuring pat on the arm. “He probably picked up on the hormonal changes. Don’t worry about it. Want to go over the plans for our first classes?” Alright, well that’s gross and terrible to know. Continue reading at AO3. Through chapter 14 now posted!

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ninthfeather · 2 months ago

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when the god in the machine is nowhere to be seen

Fandom: My Hero Academia Summary: Shouta attempts to cheer up his former student/current colleague/eternal Problem Child. (also on AO3)

A/N: Title from "Midnight Florist" by Jessica Best and the Creeping Doubts. Thanks so much to FabHawk for beta-reading and title help.

Warning for canon-typical institutionalized discrimination and some references to mental health issues.

Shouta was barely conscious in any sense of the word when he pushed open the door of the teacher’s lounge. Not long ago, this would’ve been the result of another late-night patrol, but now, it was mostly just because both Hizashi and Eri had been up with nightmares, and Shota’s own insomnia had taken advantage of the disruptions.

The anniversary of the so-called war against the League of Villains was coming up again, and all of them were dealing with it in their own ways. Shouta’s preferred poison was just burying himself in work.

He had that in common with Midoriya, whose usual focus on his work as one of UA’s in-house substitutes had intensified into something approaching mania, before abruptly petering out. This time last week, he’d been writing up a list of curriculum adjustments for Nezu. This morning, he was scrolling listlessly through a news site.

Aizawa sometimes found it hard to wrap his head around how they’d ended up as they were. If you’d asked Aizawa to predict which of his students was most likely to end up in teaching, he would have bypassed the nightmare class entirely. If he’d been limited to just that class, he’d probably have picked Yaoyorozu or maybe Iida, although he didn’t see either being particularly good at the job.

Midoriya hadn’t even been on his radar. He’d looked at that kid and seen two possible outcomes--an exceptional heroics career, or an early, dramatic death. Sure, Midoriya was frighteningly smart, but he hadn’t seemed interested in standing on the sidelines, even in situations where he probably should’ve done so. He’d expected that even if the kid ended up incapable of doing hero work himself, he would’ve ended up doing coordination or analysis work, not teaching.

That wasn’t to say that Midoriya was bad at it. In the few situations where Midoriya had no natural aptitude for something, he’d proven to be such a diligent student as to make it impossible to tell. Midoriya was technically perfect as a teacher, at least compared to his peers. He genuinely cared about the kids, he had a knack for coming up with difficult test questions, and his sense for when a student was being bullied was impeccable. But Shouta had seen Midoriya at his most enthusiastic and impassioned, and that version of him was almost impossible to find in his colleague.

Maybe it was just the passage of time, or Midoriya’s various physical and mental health problems. But Shouta didn’t think so.

Midoriya scrolled past a picture of Creati and Uravity cleaning up after a hurricane, and then one of Red Riot in the middle of a takedown. Then there was Earphone Jack at a concert and Ingenium II speaking at a benefit.

Shouta felt a sudden, sharp burst of kinship towards the boy. He remembered being just out of school and watching his schoolmates succeed at blinding speed while he was barely balancing his teaching certificate program with his patrol schedule.

“Midoriya,” he started.

And oh, Midoriya’s time in his class had left its mark, because the instant that he spoke, Midoriya was on high alert and turning to face him.

Shouta gave him a second to realize that he was overreacting.

Midoriya flushed, just a little bit.

Shouta glanced pointedly at Midoriya’s phone. “It’s not necessary to compare yourself with your former classmates,” he said.

To his surprise, Midoriya snorted. “As if I could, now,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shouta asked, more baffled than offended.

“I’m Quirkless , remember?” Midoriya said.

“My Quirk doesn’t work half the time, but I still get by,” Shouta said carefully. Midoriya definitely had strong feelings about Quirklessness, judging by how he’d reacted to Mirio losing his Quirk and to a few in-class exercises involving the topic. But he kept the nature of those feelings close to his chest. It wasn’t outright prejudice, or Shouta would’ve dealt with it by now, but it wasn’t the same kind of deliberate enthusiasm he brought to discussions of stigmatized Quirks, either.

“That’s not the same thing,” Midoriya said, pocketing his phone.

“It’s pretty similar,” Shouta argued.

Midoriya shot him a look of such pure condescension that Shouta had to remind himself that he couldn’t suspend him anymore.

“I don’t have a valid Hero License,” Midoriya said. “So no, it’s not.”

“Yes you do?” Shouta said, thrown. “I saw you get it out at the convenience store the other day, for the discount?”

Midoriya rolled his eyes. “It’s one of the ones they give retired heroes.”

“Seriously?” Shouta asked.

“The HPSC won’t issue me a valid one until I can pass a Quirk Assessment,” Midoriya said.

Oh. It had been a while since the last time Shouta had wanted to murder a man on Midoriya’s behalf. There was a feeling he hadn’t missed.

“Was Hawks involved in that decision?” Shouta asked, aware that his eyes were probably flickering red.

“He was one of the only ones on my side,” Midoriya said. “Everyone else was very ‘if he gets killed it will damage the organization’s reputation’ and so on.”

Shouta swore.

“Yeah, and admittedly the nerve damage and the chronic pain and the PTSD didn’t really help my case,” Midoriya said. “But what it boiled down to was that they didn’t think I could do it.”

“That’s bullshit,” Shouta said.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Midoriya complained. “I got, what, like a year and a half of being treated like a normal person? If we really don’t want anything like what happened with Aoyama to happen again, we have got to fix some of the structural Quirkism in this country; I am so serious. Also it would make me less stressed. Just as a bonus.”

Shouta was having a very uncomfortable suspicion right about now.

Back when Midoriya first spilled the beans about One for All, he’d never outright stated his original Quirk. Shouta had assumed it had been something unremarkable and completely unrelated to physical strength or speed, because that would explain why Midoriya had kept breaking himself during the earliest portions of his heroics career. But up until now, he’d just sort of assumed that there had been an original Quirk. People who were born Quirkless were vanishingly rare in Japan; Shouta had only met a few, and all of them had been middle aged or older. For someone Midoriya’s age--

Something must have showed on his face, because Midoriya’s expression turned alarmed and then embarrassed.

“Could you maybe forget I said that?” Midoriya asked.

“Not likely, Problem Child,” Shouta deadpanned.

“I’m over 18, you can’t call me that anymore!” Midoriya protested.

“So you aren’t denying the other half of it?” Shouta asked.

“I can’t really argue with it at this point, can I?”

“Not really,” Shouta said. “And stop trying to distract me.”

Midoriya wilted. “Look, if I wanted to talk about it, you would have been at the top of the list. But it’s in the past. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Then why bring it up when you’re being mistreated?”

“I’m not being mistreated, they’re just being stubborn jerks--” Midoriya broke off. “Yeah, okay, sure, it bothers me. But telling people it bothers me is just an invitation for them to do it more.”

“Do I need to go back over the Mental Health and Heroics unit for you?” Shouta asked. “I can do it, if that’s what you need.”

“You seriously do not get it,” Midoriya repeated. “And that’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you think I don’t get it, then explain it to me,” Shouta pressed.

Izuku huffed. “Fine,” he said. “Being Quirkless doesn’t set you apart all that much. Yeah, we have the toe joint and a few other differences from Quirked people, but none of it matters much. We don’t get injured or sick more easily. It’s just that we don’t have a superpower.”

Midoriya’s voice rose as he warmed to the topic. “And it’s just that, we don’t have it. People who have powers that are weak or scary get mistreated, but it doesn’t get medicalized the way Quirklessness does. I had a medical note in my school records, even though the only time anyone was supposed to be using their Quirks was during Quirk counseling. People treated me like I was fragile and stupid. And now they’re doing it again.”

He folded his arms. “What they want is for me to agree that my life has been ruined by the removal of my Quirk and that it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. While also reassuring themselves that All for One is very dead and cannot possibly do the same thing to them.”

Shouta’d had his own share of that kind of behavior, both over his reduced ability to use his Quirk and his physical injuries. One of the business track kids had been expelled by Nedzu for asking Shouta if he regretted having survived the fighting. Hizashi had actually punched the first reporter to approach a similar line of questioning.

“You usually avoid doing what’s expected of you, so why should this be any different?” Shouta asked.

“Because I'm tired of it,” Midoriya snapped. “And because it feels like being in middle school again.”

Neither Bakugo nor Midoriya had ever disclosed what their middle school experiences had been like, but Shouta had plenty of guesses. And he was starting to get an idea of what Midoriya needed to hear.

“You helped save the country,” he said. “No one is going to forget that, and no one can take that from you. You had One for All for a short time, yes, but in that time you dealt with more serious villain situations than some pros see in a lifetime. And you may not have that Quirk anymore, but you still have an entire pack of top-100 Heroes who will ruin someone's life for you if you ask.”

Midoriya blinked at him.

“If I called Uravity or Shouto or even Dynamight right now and told them about your license, the HPSC officials responsible would end up in body casts, assuming they were alive by the time those hellions were done with them. Which is why you haven't told them, right?”

Midoriya looked away.

“Talk to your friends,” Aizawa said.

“I don't want to bother--”

“If you were a bother to them, I doubt they would hang out around UA nearly as much as they do,” Shouta said.

“I guess not,” Midoriya said reluctantly.

“They’re not the only ones who care about you, either,” Shouta added. “If yo challenge the HPSC about your license, I know All Might would go to bat for you. So would Nedzu. I would help, even.”

“It’s not really about the license, or the lack of it, you know?” Midoriya said. “It’s about what I can do now, and what I can’t.”

Shouta got that. He’d had to massively scale back his heroics work in recent years. It wasn’t just the damage to his quirk, or the injuries he’d sustained, or the results of getting older. It was all of those things put together. Maybe if he was a younger man he’d have tried to push through anyway--and maybe he would’ve gotten killed like that.

“There are dozens of heroes who do most of their work Quirkless,” Shouta said. “But you’re the only one who knows what’s best for you.”

The grin Midoriya gave him was lopsided, but existent.

“Now, go call one of your friends,” Shouta said.

“Yes, sensei,” Midoriya said absently, getting out his phone.

#disabledwhc2025 #day 21: loss #bnha #mha fanfiction #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #ninthfeather's fic

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