#he's like 'izuku figured out a way to use his power while minimizing the damage!'

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And the last chapter of the first volume! Though technically there’s after-chapter content that will be in a separate post from this, but for now, what matters is finishing up the quirk assessment and getting into the battle trial!

Honestly, it’s a good thing that I just shoved all the opening arcs from before the USJ together into one tag, because this chapter literally goes from the quirk assessment into the beginning of the battle trial stuff, and trying to separate them out would have been a mess and a half. Better to just have it all in the ‘opening arcs’ tag.

...weird title for something that only comes at the end of the chapter, but whatever, it’s not like we don’t see that happen later on in the series as well.

[No. 7 - Costume Change?]

And we immediately come back to where we left off, with All Might realizing what just happened and what Izuku did and even why! One of those little peeks that remind us that All Might is very smart! Also god, him with a small fanboy moment over how proud he is of his kid and how cool that workaround was, mmm this is the Dad Might content I signed up for. 

Izuku is still standing firm, even with his finger swollen and damaged, biting back the pain. Ochako is cheering about that record, Tenya notices Izuku’s finger is damaged and thinks back to the entrance exam, calling it a ‘strange quirk’, Aoyama says it’s stylishly done, and Katsuki is brain broke.

I’m sorry that’s just so fucking funny. He is such a goddamn gremlin, but he’s also completely shook. He thinks about how quirks never manifest past age four, but somehow Izuku has a quirk. 

He then recalls Izuku saying ‘he earned this’ and gets pissed, blasting forward to demand an explanation while Izuku freaks out-

Only for Katsuki to have his quirk cancelled by Aizawa and also get caught up in the capture scarf. 

Beauty. Grace. He’ll bite off your face. 

Katsuki notes the cloth is stiff, while Aizawa tells him that it’s a capture weapon made of carbon fibers and a special alloy wire, then tells Katsuki to stop using his quirk already. Which is interesting; can Aizawa sense when people are trying to use their quirks while under the effects of his? If so, is he sensing the aborted movement of whatever quirk factors exist, or ??? 

(All I’m saying is that that is some possible fuel for a Dad For One connection but for Aizawa instead of Izuku… you know, just in case.)

As we sort of saw from the last chapter, Aizawa’s quirk has the side effect of giving him dry eyes (he was putting eyedrops in his eyes after using his quirk on Izuku). Izuku thinks that sucks since his quirk is so awesome. Aizawa lets his quirk and scarf drop, telling the class to prepare for the next event.

Katsuki is standing where he was stopped, glaring at Izuku who is holding his hand while Ochako worries over him and his finger. He’s caught up in a flashback (which again, reminder that this is chapter 7 and we already have flashbacks), thinking about how up to then, Izuku was just another pebble in his path. We get a brief cut to a memory flashback (not a chapter flashback) to when Izuku and Katsuki were still friends, and Izuku was waiting for his quirk to come in still, and then repeats that Izuku was only supposed to be a pebble. Single track mind, much?

Discord:

Ah, that good Bakugou discourse. This is why you do this stuff in a server with friends.

Izuku narrates a short passage of time - over the rest of the events - while handling the pain of his injured finger. Aizawa tells them it’s time for the results, with Izuku thinking about how he’s going to get expelled because the only record worth mentioning was the throw, and how the endurance running failed hard because of the pain. Aizawa says he won’t explain the process behind the scoring process, just that they reflect performance.

And then he reveals he was lying about expelling someone. 

The trio’s faces. Aizawa’s manic smile. The trio’s faces. And Momo there like ‘what did you expect?’ God, I can’t help but giggle.

Izuku just fucking ascending to a new plane of existance here.

Aizawa turns to leave, saying they’re done there and that the documents about the curriculum and whatnot are back in the classroom. He then calls out Izuku, who is shaking in panic (probably about Aizawa changing his mind again - I wonder if teachers before UA pulled that sort of ‘syke’ on Izuku… yikes.)

Instead, he just gets handed a pass to the nurse’s office (not even filled out fully, incredible) and then turns and walks off.

The class is left to stare after Aizawa in bafflement, with Izuku’s narration noting that he’s safe for the moment, but still has too much he can’t do, and that he’s literally starting from the bottom - but here’s there to learn so he can get closer to his dream!

Class rankings:

And- ah, he walked past All Might, who calls him out as a liar. Aizawa either didn’t notice him watching or didn’t know it was All Might specifically who was watching, but either way calls it ‘wasting time’ - which makes sense when all the teachers know about his time limit that he’s spending there watching Izuku the kids do their trials.

All Might notes that April Fool’s was over a week ago, and that the ‘rational deception’ thing falls flat when he expelled an entire class of first years the previous year. Aizawa discards those with zero potential, but he went back on his word here, and then asks if he sensed Midoriya’s potential as well. While giving Aizawa finger guns. Have I mentioned this man is a complete dork yet?

Aizawa catches onto the ‘as well’ bit, and determines that All Might’s supporting the kid - which isn’t his usual style. He then starts walking off again, saying Midoriya doesn’t have no chance, but that’s all he’ll say on the matter. He then says that if the kid had no prospects, he’d cut him loose, since it’s crueler to let someone chase half-baked dreams. 

All Might determines quietly that it’s Aizawa’s way of being kind, but out loud states that they can agree to disagree. Meanwhile, in the background, Sero and Sato notice All Might, which probably leads to class 1a going after him and him fleeing for safety. 

We transition to when Izuku is heading home, with him exhausted because of his trip to Recovery Girl. Tenya checks in on him, and Izuku says he’s fine, with us seeing a temporary flashback to the nurse’s office. Izuku notes his finger’s better, but he’s exhausted all of a sudden (he doesn’t remember last time since he was unconscious). 

A couple of things:

Kamui Woods pez dispenser 

Oh, so if he doesn’t have stamina he’ll die! Good to know! :)

Anyways, Izuku thinks about how he can’t keep going on like this and has to figure out how to regulate his power fast. Tenya goes on to talk about how Aizawa had fooled them, making them think that was how it was, only for it to be a deception. (The irony that the mercy was actually unplanned all along gets to me.) Izuku is more relaxed around him now that he realizes Tenya isn’t scary, just super serious.

Ochako rushes over to catch up, asking if they’re heading for the station. Tenya calls her ‘Infinity Girl’ and Izuku repeats it mentally in surprise. Ochako introduces herself, and then brings up their names - though she mistakes Izuku’s name for ‘Deku’, because of what Katsuki said during the test. Izuku corrects her with awkward hand gestures, saying his real name and that the ‘Deku’ is just Katsuki being a bully. 

Tenya and Ochako both acknowledge this, with Ochako apologizing, and then mentioning how ‘Deku’ sounds like ‘do your best’, and that she likes it. Izuku goes beet fucking red and immediately replies that Deku is fine, with Tenya chastising him for not showing backbone while Izuku calls it like the Copernican Revolution and Ochako questions who Copernicus is. 

The narration takes over, noting that even if there’s a lot he can’t do, he’ll do his best, but having All Might and even some friends behind him… it’s more than he could have asked for. 

Good children. Best friends. God, these were the good days… more OG Dekucrew content please and thanks.

We get one panel of Toshinori that Izuku’s got no time to rest, and that tomorrow the real test begins. Then we’re onto the next day, aka the first day of actual classes - and oh, right, UA has clubs, that’s something that’s easy to forget when we never see it with the hero classes. I mean, considering that the actual hero training classes probably overlap the usual club hours, not surprising, but still.

Present Mic is shown to be the English teacher, trying to get the kids in the spirit of class, but pretty much everyone is finding it boring - asides from Izuku, who is actually trying to answer the question mentally, even if not out loud. The narration notes that the mornings are for normal classes, and that lunch is top-notch food for dirt cheap in the cafeteria (as cooked by Lunch Rush), and then hero training is in the afternoon… possibly after lunch? Which isn’t great when people could end up throwing up. Ah well.

These fucking dorks. Two peas in a quirkless-to-superpowered pea pod.

And of course, more meta from the class on how All Might’s drawn differently.

Anyways, All Might gets into Hero Basic Training, how it’ll mold them into heroes, and that there’s no time to waste as he shows off a card reading ‘battle’ before stating that they have battle training. 

Have I mentioned he’s a dork? There’s more ham here than in Shatner’s performances in the original Star Trek series!

Katsuki is thrilled with battle training, of course. All Might notes that for battle training, the class will need - as the wall clicks and opens several drawers with numbered cases, each with contents in accordance with the quirk registry and the special request forms fill out before admission - costumes! Which the class is super hyped about. Izuku is holding his backpack in excitement, and All Might orders the students to come out to Ground Beta in ranking order once they’re changed, to which the class agrees. 

As he takes his leave, he notes that looking good is important, and to look alive, because from today on, they’re all heroes! We also get some nice transition moments showing pieces of people’s costumes, with Izuku being the last one out as the rest show theirs off.

So cool! And what a way to end a chapter and a book! And a nice nod to the prototype costume for Izuku. Time to say goodbye to it before the end of this arc. 

Next time, I’ll try to get through all the bonus stuff for the end of the volume, and then we can get into the battle trial proper! Looking forward to that.

[dubsxreader]

worship the king //.o1 // shigaraki tomura x female!reader

summary: after the soul crushing realization that you're not meant to be the Hero you've spent your life training to be, you hunt down the most indiscriminate killer you know: Dabi. his man-child of a leader being there only makes the task easier, right? too bad Shigaraki has a knack for seeing things in others they don't see themselves. wc: 3,312 playlist: here!

rated: M for dark and mature themes; future lewd tw: suicidal ideation (seriously don't read if you're in a bad mindset this probs won't help), depression, toxic thoughts, manipulation, the start of a v dependent, idolizing relationship ie "worship" in all definitions of the word haha. Shigs taking advantage of a mentally vulnerable hero basically; dead dove do not eat for that reason.

a/n: this is something I wrote almost year ago now, when I first fell head over heels for Shigs and really felt like bnha was saving me from insanity haha. I have 15 pages of notes for this fic, but for now, for the King's birthday, this is my thank you to him and a year of loving Shigaraki Tomura <3 also to the xreader community for being my gateway into every fandom that takes over my life haha. will be posted to ao3 later

You stand on a cracked, littered rooftop, sullenly looking over the calamity you figured would be destroying the lives of every day, happily unaware citizens tonight. A slight sigh of relief leaves your chewed-to-hell lips, hidden to your own addled mind but glaringly apparent to any of your fellow heroes who’d commented on your state of mind the past few months.

You appreciated their care, you really did—for all the surface level care it could give, that is. It wasn’t their fault they couldn’t understand. They were simply more Heroic than you, official capital and all. More driven, stronger, faster… But you’ve been doing the absolute best you can, and you were sure of that. Days–weeks months?–of harshly honest self speculation assured you of your failures and of the fact that, simply put, you weren’t cut out for shouldering multitudes of lives every time you stepped out your door. Heroism didn’t just end when you took off your costume; no, it was an ideology that should be ingrained into the soul of the costume wearer, and you’d come to the jarring conclusion that, after all your special training, you just weren’t up to snuff.

You couldn’t even save yourself from your own demons. How the hell were you supposed to save those more deserving of life if you couldn’t cope with your own shit?

A small, condescending snort leaves your nostrils as you observe the blue flames engulfing the area below you. Fucking worthless. What was the point, then? Hours of support Hero's work on your items, costume—wasted. The countless words of love and support from friends and family. Ha. Your eyes track the small movements of the current chaos’ perpetrators with a keenness you've found twisted comfort in recently. A familiar, all encompassing fixation gears up that brings you out of the cloud of self-doubt, hate, and deprecation that was so, so wrong to feel as a Pro-Hero in today’s society. In this bubble there's a solution, so it's okay. You let out a numbing breath.

Maybe you could give the Villains +1 morality in the eyes of whatever twisted being rested on their laurels, idly watching as you drive yourself insane.

A swift gust of wind knocks the empty cans and bottles from their peaceful resting places as you leave your perch, descending into the empty alley below to begin your last stand against yourself. Resolute and heavy steps echo in the widened, deserted streets of the city you vowed to protect—a small, still aware part of you thankful it’s so late at night that most would be sleeping. Your targets (saviors?) usually moved when they would make the most social impact, but you’d been tracking a certain member that didn’t seem to adhere to their strict schedule.

Whoever they were behind the obvious moniker, they seemed to kill liberally. It should be easy. You take a numbing breath.

The stench of burning flesh and ash is suddenly all too pungent, assaulting your senses enough to kick your mind into another, more logical plane and question how stupid you’re being. How disappointed everyone who knew you would be. Izuku and Hitoshi, especially, had been trying their hardest to devote extra time to you recently, you knew that—fuck, how selfish were you to bring their attention away from a goal they’d fought so hard to achieve?

The flames are smoldering char on concrete when you arrive at the end of another alleyway, just as dirty as the one you’d come from… But the incineration just seemed to have cleansed the way of its trash. You nearly sigh again in morbid relief when you see two men still standing there in the aftermath. You can see from behind that the man you’ve been tracking, Dabi, still has his left arm extended, as if relishing the memory of his flames destroying the ones he deemed unworthy.

Hands in your hero costume’s pockets, you steel yourself in your usual Hero emotions: indignation, conviction, disgust at the idea of them feeling they had a right to do anything going against the grain of the society you were indoctrinated into. You clear your throat with the last of your practiced confidence, bringing the sights of the two Villains to your own frame shadowed by the bright street lamp at your back.

“You two aren’t planning on getting away with this, are you?”

Your simple, deadpan drawl has both men scoffing to themselves and sharing a look of exasperation and annoyance. They clearly want nothing more than to be done with whatever the hell they were doing; your gaze sharpens in acknowledgment while their own take note of your hero costume. This is it. This is really it. You’ve done it. Is it really what you want?

Your eyes ice over, hardening to protect your vulnerabilities when they meet those of the second man’s own carmine flecks, so unflinching and so, so bored from behind his trademark hand.

Yeah. This is it.

Resignation freezing the rest of your visage and nothing left to say, you dash forward with simple physical speed, locking onto the Villain you recognize as the leader of the League of Villains himself. Sure, Dabi was a proven relentless killer, but you figure if you go after the leader himself there would be even less hesitation or time to think on either side. They were both reportedly unflinching, ruthless, uncaring and absolutely evil, but Shigaraki’s devilishness was practically beaten into you at this point. He was the obvious candidate, the oddness of his presence meaningless yet welcome at this point.

Your eyes never leave his as you take those last three lunging leaps, your arm cocked back in a hopeful show of some impressive power you might possess, in a display grand enough to paint yourself as a threat if not at the very least an annoyance.

Blue flames lick at the back of your costume. You’d somehow been faster than Dabi’s flames, which made no sense at all—you weren’t fast in any capacity if you were to judge yourself. It must’ve been a misfire. Lucky you’ve targeted the faster acting Villain.

Something distinctly odd flashes in his previously disinterested eye as you rush him, your Quirk barely powered yet still reflecting in his observation as you aim for the mask. Your own, in contradictory spite, slows as your mind races, brushing the hand enough to feel the inexplicitly soft and leathery texture, knocking it clean off the face of the man you’d targeted. Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the anticipation of the end, but you don’t feel anything near what you thought you’d feel when his living hand grazes your outstretched arm. If anything, it feels like an angry wasp had come at your elbow in some sort of misguided revenge attempt. Bearable.

Fucking livable.

You skid to a shaky stop feet behind them, your glare going to the small hole in your costume’s arm where he’d made the briefest of contact. The skin had only begun to crack and decay from a central point; nothing near the scale and intensity you’d been warned about by your superiors and peers. What the fuck gives?

A desperate rage threatens to erupt at the lack of damage. You feel cheated. Your eyes shift from the minimal damage to the apprehensive yet notably curious eyes of your chosen euthanasist. Was he just not taking you seriously? You didn’t blame him, but…

“I thought the League was the best of the best?” The sting in your arm is mockingly there and you scoff, barely hiding your indignation at his unfulfillment of the role you’d forced upon him. You take it and use it to fuel the crumbling foundation of your resolve, ashing it to the ground yourself and focus on the slightly slumped figure topped with white-blue hair.

His eyes are now magnetized and piercing, never wavering from your own, adding to your rage and confusion. Just what is he getting at, looking straight at you in the fucked up state you’re in and just–just fucking seeing–?! You aren’t looking for pity, fuck all if it's from the person you’ve deemed would have the balls you didn’t to end this shitty nightmare you live in. With a primal, anguished and utterly guttural scream you dash forward once more towards Shigaraki Tomura, hand erupting in a more accurate show of your true power.

Once again, he simply guides your attack away from him into empty space, this time with a deft shove of his index finger. Silent and calculating. You stumble on your feet as you land, ignoring the insulting sting, and turn to face them at a pace you know isn’t up to Hero standards but unable to even fake it anymore. Your eyes, though.

They fucking call to him.

How could he dust you? A Pro-Hero, coming at him alone, a deadly ally at his side, with what he knew from his research to be nowhere near their quirk’s power and potential?

Nevermind the look in your eyes he’d recognized immediately—this Hero was asking to be killed. Cracked lips twitch to grin at the situation. His mind works at full throttle to balance the possibilities.

“Heh…” The small breath leaves him, a smirk winning out and pulling at already taught skin, “You’re looking to die, aren’t you, Hero?”

Your brows furrow in… Fuck, you can’t identify your feelings at this point–they shouldn’t matter–they’d become obsolete the moment you took a swing at the supposedly impulsive and irrational Villain in charge. All you can feel is the overwhelming sense of weight, of pressure, of absolute and total CHAOS destroying any semblance of unity you’d pulled together to end this.

“What the fuck does that matter to you, Villain?!” Your glare is full of a rawness you can’t recognize, let alone mask, “Fucking fight me or die!”

His smirk, now fully on display, stretches to the smuggest of smiles as he takes his experimental first steps forward, casually retrieving the hit hand and placing it safely in his trench coat pocket. You weren’t immediately attacking him—hell, you weren’t even defending yourself! You’d only be more obvious if you’d delivered yourself to his doorstep tied in a bright, blood-red ribbon labeled “do what you want, I don’t care anymore!” It made his blood simmer, his skin itch in excitement at all the optional routes opened up before him.

Quickly, too quickly to deploy your defense {even if you wanted to}, he’s in your face and encircling your neck in a four fingered grasp. Your eyes vaguely mark Dabi looking on with a detached interest, and you can’t help but mirror his lack of understanding—your emotions and thoughts unfortunately too far past controllable to be hidden behind the usual Heroics.

“You could still serve a purpose, you know.”

Narrowed (e/c) eyes meet piercing, analytical rubies set to freeze and crumble enemies. You have no answer to that, none at all—if you hadn’t come across another anything while you’d been searching in earnest, how could it be tossed into your lap from the hands of a Villain? Your clear disbelief doesn’t deter him in the slightest. It only gives him the subtle signals he needs to ensure a dedicated new member of his team. This situation could only go well for him and the League, if he plays it right, and he’s thankful Dabi knows when to shut the hell up and take the back seat when he truly should.

He’s never seen Shigaraki’s version of recruitment before. After Dabi's climate destroying display, he could use a lesson.

On the edge though this Hero is, the line is thin and the touch needed is delicate and calculated.

“You can make a real difference in this rotten world,” Shigaraki slowly lowers his defensive arm and loosens his grip on your neck, conveying his intentions to calm you. He notices this strikes an especially sore nerve that you’re too unhinged to recognize. You’re taken over by your emotions, unable to distinguish that you’ve offered your weaknesses to your enemy on a silver platter. Disgusted rage he’s now certain is self-focused meets him, only bringing him a step closer to your frozen and highly panicked figure. His free fingers fidgets on the clammy skin of your neck, tapping a pattern across your throbbing pulse, expectant and soft while the other stays loosely, carefully, against your clavicle.

It's constant.

It's… calming?

No, it's fucking overwhelming and uncomfortable and— As if your body’s acting on the last vestiges of your studies, you struggle in his grasp and pull your dominate arm back, channeling all your sadness and panic you’d been unable to expel into the attack you hoped would just fucking end this fucking end this it’s done—

Another four fingered grip captures your wrist, directing your power away from anything important and only ruffling Dabi’s clothes as he watches on. You choke on a cry, near your mask’s end with Shigaraki’s unexpected patience. You’d been told this was nothing more than a spoiled, raging, calloused young man entirely unable to connect with any feelings other than his own selfish need to destroy all Heroes he came in contact with. The only conclusion your racing mind can come to is that he doesn’t even view you as a Hero worth destroying. Thick and torrid tears rush from your eyes, betraying your need to be recognized and being denied that luxury in your final moments.

“I can’t even get what I need from you fuckfaces—!” Your cry rings out, eyes shutting tightly, shaking with the force of your emotions finally finding the breaking point they need to crash through into the real world, “What the fuck can I do to make a fucking difference?!”

Shigaraki pauses to assess your sobbing. You’ve all but folded into yourself; you would’ve disintegrated against his hold on your neck if he hadn’t been paying attention. No… he sees you. He sees you. His fingered grip on your neck slides up to force your head to follow, meeting his sure gaze. You’re lost. You’re anxiously grasping at anything you can to stop the burning, itching need to destroy your own mind… And he gets that. He knows what it took to hook him tightly into his own mindset. He knows of seeing a seemingly impossible goal set before him, of feeling unworthy and needing to prove himself to his peers and himself. If anyone could reshape you... it would be him. If anyone were to reshape you... it should be him.

“It isn’t fair, is it…?” He starts slowly, voice dripping with cooing understanding, gauging your expressions and body, “You work so hard to be what others want you to be… And never feel enough, even when you put your all into it.” Your whole being shudders at his words, breaking down and melting into the pressure of your expectations for yourself. You choke on another messy sob, tears blinding you, snot nearly reaching your lips, a trail of drool unknowingly slipping from the corner of your grimacing lips.

“We’d never expect more than you can give, you know,” He all but whispers into your ear, his words echoing with staying power. You miss the tiniest bit of excitement he lets slip into his tone at the thought of corrupting a fairly strong Hero to his cause with mere psychological one-upmanship. The power over your entire existence is an intoxicating prize and he’s not about to let go of it if he can help it.

A sad cross between a whimper and a cry escapes you as you crumble even more into a hold you’d only come to for annihilation. Why wasn’t he killing you? Why weren’t you dead? You’d wanted to die, needed to just stop everything and just—just STOP, finally, just stop. He was a hardened criminal with no need for heroes, what the hell kind of use did he see in you? You still the tiniest bit. You just need a use, a tangible use, is that what you’ve been missing? A clear direction set before you by an overwhelmingly liberating, intelligent, capable force… Could he see it through all the absolute shit you covered yourself in?

A tentative spark lights the furthest parts of you as you finally meet his confident and knowing gaze. Fuck if you don’t feel seen for the first time in your life, finally seen and accepted for the absolute mess you see yourself as. The conflicting, philosophical doubts you’ve had about Heroism, and your own heroics in the existential race you call a life, find a peaceful place in Shigaraki Tomura’s vision.

It's an alien calm, a powerful sedative on your mind, leading you to melt into his look—telling him all he needed to know and more. The grin he sports widens and his eyes shift to give a silent command to Dabi, still (surprisingly) observing quietly, before changing your life indefinitely, “Follow me, little hero. You'll never be lost again.”

A deep, swirling purple warp gate you’d only seen in footage appears at the entrance to the alleyway.

The loose grip on your neck finally leaves completely, giving you ample room to escape up and out across the rooftops. You’re frozen in your battling thoughts at the suddenly very real decision in front of you.

You knew you weren’t good enough to be a Hero. You’d been struggling with the core beliefs on what the word even meant, if the world you’d been taught was even so black and white. Did you even want to die or did you just need someone to come and give you a purpose, some great refocusing direction? Someone to swoop in, recognize and acknowledge your pain before wiping it away and giving you something definite to live for? You knew you couldn’t make it as a Hero. You were nothing in that world. But maybe you could make that nothing existence, doomed to the weaker, better…?

Eyes nearly blinded before blinking down more streams of tears, you sniffle and take a tentative step towards the man looming tall over you, an umbrella shielding you from a brightness you couldn’t stand to be seen in. You harshly wipe your falling tears to watch Dabi walk swiftly into the portal, an unlit cigarette of some sort dangling from his patterned lips. Shigaraki steps to it much slower. He stops before he reaches it, twisting subtly to look at you from over his shoulder. He shouldn’t have to say anything more for you to follow, if his assumptions are correct—

They are.

Your first steps are slow but pick up speed quickly, feet nearly throwing you into his right side, at the mouth of the portal to a place described by your thoughts as no return. His eyes widen in delight, a manic grin following as he places the fingers of his left hand onto your head in a semblance of comfort. More than he ever got. His right arm wraps confidently around your waist, absurdly consoling to your rapidly evolving morals and needs.

It allows you to let it all go, though. It tells you someone more capable, more prepared is there. That he sees you and is keeping you alive because you’re useful to him. You can’t seem to care why when the overwhelming realization that such a powerful man saw you as you were, truly were, and still found a profound use for you in a world you were dying in takes a strong hold. You’re practically weightless as he guides you into the inky blackness of his caretaker’s portal, mind clicking into place and recognizing the distinct choice you’re making with a calm acceptance of this development in your life.

You were a useless hero. Perhaps this is your chance to prove you could make a difference to someone as a villain.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! :) hope you enjoyed~ happy birthday, Shigster! maann I wish he'd take me away ;w; drop of a hat, I'm gone lol. the ultimate escapism... yandere!Shigaraki! xD annyway, I hope you have a wonderful day~ <3

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Shoto/Yandere!Izuku/Reader piece for a very lovely, very trusting anonymous commissioner, featuring your daily dose of Dicku, for the soul. I haven’t been very kind to the Reader-Inserts, lately, but I feel like it’s fitting. Especially when they’re caught in the middle of a relationship so... *layered*.

Word Count: 2.9k

TW: Non-Con, Male!Reader, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, and Anal Sex.

Izuku didn’t want to hate Shoto. 

He didn’t, he really, really didn’t. Izuku wasn’t the kind of person who could hate anyone without a good reason, and certainly not someone he’d put on such a high pedestal. He was nice, like that, a little too nice, some would say, but his patience was understandable. Shoto was a friend, after all. They’d gone through the hero-course together, graduated hand-in-hand, and spent too many nights to count training ‘till the sun rose and fighting together and being close, regardless of whatever feelings they harbored below the surface.

They’d been friends for close to ten years, now, and Izuku had known about Shoto’s crush for nine.

He’d only avoided having to acknowledge it for eight, though.

And now, as he sat on the other side of Shoto’s desk, overlooking the city through seamless, crystal-clear windows, he wasn’t able to shake the feeling of those heterochromatic eyes boring into him, unwavering and unyielding, regardless of how many nervous smiles Izuku put on during their ‘meeting’. Shoto was always cold, the quieter of the pair, and Izuku really didn’t mind. He liked being the one to fill the silence, he enjoyed it, but this was too tense, too rigid for him to fill. Luckily, Shoto seemed to sense his discomfort, taking up the mantle of conversation. Even if Izuku wasn’t exactly grateful for his choice in subject matter. “I’m not an idiot, Midoriya,” He started, bluntly. “Neither are you. We should both know why we’re here.”

Izuku forced a friendly grin, leaning back in his stiff, industrial chair. Maybe his next contract with the Todoroki Agency would include a clause that called for more comfortable furniture. “Because there’s a new group of villains planning an uprising, and we’ve got to use the power of our friendship to bring them down?”

“This is serious,” Shoto countered, but a flush was still spreading across his pale skin. As it seemed to more and more, these days. “You know about my feelings. I know you don’t feel the same way-” Lies, lies, lies. Shoto knew, but like hell he accepted it. Izuku couldn’t count on both hands how many times he’d caught Shoto gritting his teeth when he brought up a mutual friend, or how Shoto always seemed to find himself in the possession of one too many seats at a gala. Still, he let Shoto continue unimpeded. “-but you can’t do what you’re planning to with (Y/n).”

Oh, that got Izuku’s attention.

You

You’d just been one of Shoto’s sidekicks, at first, a young Support Hero just out of Shiketsu Academy. Useless in any meaningful fight, but you were good with damage control, something Shoto was desperately in need of. And yet, you were more than that, so much more. You were adorable, and caring, and so helpless, just thinking about how vulnerable you’d be in a serious fight made Izuku’s heart skip a beat. The two of you weren’t close yet, sure, but that could change, it would change as soon as Izuku got a minute alone with you. He’d tried before, catching you during your patrols and offering to walk you home (he already had your address, but it’d be nice of you to offer it willingly), but your employer always got in the way, so protective, so jealous. The latter more than the former.

Izuku huffed, slouching back. “And why is that, Todoroki?”

He averted his eyes as Shoto glared, wondering if you’d be in the office, today. “You… you can’t, what else do you need to know? He’s been working with me for less than a year, you barely know him. It’s one thing to reject me, but you can’t reject me, then turn around and go after a…” Shoto trailed off, fingertips starting to drum against the wooden surface. “It’s wrong. More established Heroes have been taken down for smaller crimes. If you cared about the Number One Hero’s reputation, you’d stop.”

Izuku didn’t want to stop. Why couldn’t anyone see that? Izuku was in love, and he found his soulmate and why couldn’t anyone be happy for him? Shoto was just being unfair, everyone was being unfair. Maybe when he got you away for all of this, from the city and the agencies and smothering office politics, things would be different. He was sure it’d be easier, after he could work past the obstacles blocking your happy ending.

But, hopeful thinking alone wouldn’t get rid of those obstacles. They were still standing tall and glaring at Izuku over a small stack of paperwork.

Luckily, Izuku was always talented when it came to overcoming adversity.

“Don’t be so negative.” His smile was renewed, the slightest hints of something genuine pulling at the corners of his lips. “It’d be a real shame if we couldn’t come to a compromise, wouldn’t it?”

~

You weren’t afraid to say you didn’t like being alone with Izuku.

Not to say anything against him - you had the utmost admiration for Deku. He’d been your motivation while you were going through the Hero Course, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to pass by his frequent merch releases without a lengthy consideration of the merits of a few more figurines. Sure, you worked under Shoto, and you were much closer to him than you’d ever care to be to Izuku, but you didn’t look up to him in the same way you did with Deku. You were Deku’s biggest fan, you admired Deku, you respected Deku.

But, you weren’t so fond of the man behind the mask.

He stood too close. It wasn’t the biggest problem, but it unnerved you, making you flinch as he stepped into the elevator you’d caught less than a minute ago, too busy smiling and staring to notice the metallic doors that nearly closed around his ankle. You did your best to return the gesture, stepping to the side and giving him space as you reached for the panel of buttons. He reached too, resting a hand on his shoulder, laughing as he pretended not to have noticed you were doing the same. “Todoroki’s office, right, (Y/n)?”

He used your name, too. Never your alias or your title, only the given name you never told him. You still haven’t figured out how he’d learned it. “Right,” You confirmed, politely. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t need any help before I leave for the day.”

You’d just gotten off patrol, and judging by his minimized get-up, he had too. His familiar green and black body-suit was still in-tact, but his face-guard and gloves had been left behind, his utility belt also noticeably absent. You didn’t bother asking why he was there, you didn’t want to know. 

“Todoroki works his sidekicks hard, huh?” He asked, unprompted. His hand was still on your shoulder. “Maybe you should come over to my agency. A sweetheart like you would be a lot of help around the office…” He trailed off, but corrected himself quickly. “For morale, of course.”

You wondered how long this ride was going to take. “I like working here, sir.”

He chuckled, at that. Ingenuine and over-enthusiastic, the kind of laugh you wouldn’t be able to stand if it was coming from anyone else. That was another thing, everything you said was hilarious, to Izuku. “You’ve only worked here,” He whined. He was rubbing circles just above your collarbone, now, and you wished you chose a thicker uniform. Spandex worked best with your quirk, but it did little to separate the heat of Izuku’s fingers from your skin. “If you were with me, I’d make sure you know you’re appreciated.”

You took half a step back, trying to make your discomfort clear. Izuku took forward, closing the small distance you’d created easily. “I don’t want credit,” You assured him. “Todoroki’s success is enough.”

Izuku didn’t seem to like that. One moment, you were glaring at the tile, and the next you were being shoved against the mirrored wall, your back colliding harshly with the reflective surface and Izuku appearing in front of you, an arm coming up to stabilize him and its twin dropping to your waist, effectively trapping you between the elevator wall and his chest. His smile was still in place, but it was stretched, forced, his expression only growing more disturbing as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, that same fucking grin pushing against your jugular. You shifted uncomfortably, shoving at his chest, but if Izuku noticed, he didn’t seem deterred, only moving to wedge his knee between yours, keeping your feet apart. You couldn’t be sure why, but you had a feeling you wouldn’t like the explanation.

“You’re such a good boy,” Izuku said, voice steady and patronizing. He squeezed at your hip playfully, but his attention drifted quickly, fingertips brushing over your thigh before moving inward, in no particular rush to claim territory. You shuddered as he kissed your neck, sucking and biting at whatever he could get to, but your discomfort was swiftly eclipsed by the complete, all-consuming dread that flowed into your veins as Izuku’s palm ground into your crotch, pressing down for a moment before he took to tracing the outline of your cock. The sensation was stifled by layers of fabric, but unignorable, Izuku’s determination making up for any limitations he might’ve faced. “Todoroki doesn’t appreciate you, not in the way you should be appreciated. I’m gonna fix that, alright? And you’ll forget all about that creepy, sociopathic pervert by the time I’m done.”

You opened your mouth to contest, but Izuku didn’t give you the chance, forcing his lips sloppily against yours in the bastardization of a kiss. It was too forceful to be one, too rough, too insistent without any of the cautious, hesitant care a real lover would have. Meanwhile, the hand on your cock groped and squeezed carelessly, as if he was more focused on the actions themselves than the effect they had. The resulting pleasure was brutal, apathetic, frigid as it entered your system, never wavering despite your attempts to stave it off. You were hard by the time Izuku got bored, his lips moving to your shoulder and his nails digging into the fabric over your hip, latching onto your uniform and tearing, forming a jagged, uneven rip, only lengthened as he wrenched his side upward.

That was what got to you, really, the sound, the feeling of his skin on yours as he worked at shredding your clothes beyond recognition. You crumpled, slightly, letting out a small whimper as the utter misery of your reality set in, but Izuku only cooed, pecking at your jaw in a fruitless attempt to comfort you. “It’ll be alright, angel. I’ll make this good for you.”

As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open, and Izuku glanced over his shoulder absentmindedly. Shoto stepped into the small space immediately, his eyes narrowed and a grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth, but hope flooded into your chest regardless, unwilling to yield to your common sense. You shoved at Izuku, moving to call out to him, but you didn’t need to. He was already walking towards you, his hands balling into fists and latching onto Izuku’s collar as soon as he was close enough, jerking him back and…

And kissing him.

You could’ve ran. You could’ve made a break for the fire escape or thrown yourself through the nearest window, but you didn’t. Your knees buckled under your weight, your body slumping forward as you took in Shoto’s brutal form of affection. It was more shocking than anything. Confusion, about their relationship and your own, hysteria around the thought of what was going to happen next, but you were beyond the point of trying to guess. All you could do was watch as Izuku pushed at Shoto’s shoulders, separating him from his counterpart begrudgingly. “Later,” He promised, Shoto’s glare sharpening. “You already got your turn. You promised I could have (Y/n), first.”

You clenched your eyes shut, pulling your knees to your chest, but it didn’t make a difference. You were nothing compared to Izuku, compared to Deku, and your form was hauled off the floor easily, thrown over his shoulder and left to writhe and struggle as he dragged you into Shoto’s office. It was just as neat as it always was, professional and sterile, but you couldn’t find security in the suspended modern art and coffee mugs Shoto always forgot to take home. You tried to, momentarily, to lock onto something and let it absorb you, but your attempts were made futile by the clatter of pens and folders hitting the floor as Izuku cleared off Shoto’s desk with one arm, using the other to all-but throw you down, your chest hitting the tabletop with a muffled thud. Your wrists were caught behind your back in a matter of seconds, leaving you pinned and helpless under Izuku’s weight.

The tears only started as Izuku stripped you of what was left of your uniform, hooking a finger under the waistband of your compression shorts and dragging them downward, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. You heard something unzip, and Izuku’s own costume fell away, too. You might’ve been curious, a few days ago, spared a glance or two, but he wasn’t pawing at your ass a few days ago. “Lube?” He asked, talking to no one in particular. Shoto just nodded to one of the drawers under his desk, and Izuku opened it, evaluating the contents with a long, low whistle. “You’ve been stocking up for this, haven’t you?”

Shoto didn’t respond, but his eyes never left Izuku. You had a feeling they wouldn’t, anytime soon.

Izuku took his time coating two fingers with oily fluid, as if he didn’t have anything better to do. He was just as lethargic as he probed at your entrance, his movements measured, planned, Izuku drinking in your reactions as he scissored you open, pulling a ragged moan from your lips. He wasn’t aiming for your pleasure, that much was obvious, but the thought of being opened up for one of your idols, stretched apart for someone you’d admired for so long… The idea sent a sickening, begrudging stroke of electricity to your cock, and Izuku seemed to feel it too, his hips bucked impatiently against your ass.

There were so many sensations, you almost couldn’t tell when his patience gave out, his fingers pulling away and something bigger, something hotter replacing them. If he planned on acknowledging his minimal preparation, he didn’t make a show of it, thrusting into you harshly and refusing to stop until he was completely hilted. The intrusion tore a wordless, pitiful whimper from your throat, the sound short-lived but painfully audible. You tried to bite your lip, to silence yourself as Izuku started moving, but it was too late. His chest pressed against your back as he ground into you, pelvis snapping against yours in tiny, feverish ruts, as if he’d been waiting for this too long to go about it thoughtfully. He didn’t try to be delicate, he couldn’t be delicate, letting your wrist go in favor of taking your hips, his fingers burrowing into your skin in a bruising hold. The small freedom didn’t make a difference, not when the only thing you could think to do with your hands was brace them on the desk, keeping yourself stabilized despite Izuku’s attempts to topple your control. It hurt, the way he pounded into you, your occasional tear becoming an unrelenting, unfaltering onslaught of cries and sobs as he abused your hole, your prostate, everything he could get his hands on - all of it hurt. “Please… please stop,” You gasped, more out of instinct than anything. “Stop, you have to stop-”

He silenced you with a wet kiss to the nape of your neck, a hum soon strangled by a grunt. “Poor baby,” He whispered, the words stifled by your skin. “Bear with me, alright? You’ll feel good, too. My angel just has to bear with me.”

You hadn’t noticed Shoto moving, not until he was standing in front of you, less than an arm’s length away and supporting himself on the edge of the desk. There was a low whine as he entangled his unoccupied fingers in Izuku’s hair, dragging the man forward and catching him in a kiss, demanding and fervid but soft, barely there, pecks and nips that barely fazed Izuku’s pursuit to slam into you. Shoto’s goal was an affectionate one, driven by the want for attention and little else. It was innocent, in its simplicity, Something you could’ve seen yourself doing, with Shoto.

Something you used to want to see yourself doing, with Shoto.

You clenched around Izuku without thinking, your end approaching like the sudden drop of a cliffside. His cock twitched, his pace stuttering and losing rhythm, and Shoto gave him the space needed to lean against you, to keen and mummer nonsensical praises into your back. A fist closed around your cock, pumping in time with his uneven thrusts. How generous.

Your climax was a sobering one. You seized up, your body going stiff as you jolted against Izuku’s hand, hot jets of cum soon staining your stomach and Shoto’s carpet. Izuku barely lasted a second longer, filling you to the brim and refusing to pull out, letting the excess drip around his cock and onto your thighs, the sensation making you choke on whatever air was left in your lungs.

Izuku only panted, taking a deep breath before kissing your cheek. The gesture was almost loving.

Almost.

“We’re going to be so happy together.” His voice was heavy, but contented. For the moment, at least. “Me and you, just me and you. Everything’ll be perfect, once I get rid of everything trying to keep us apart.”

[pagankingfinn]

Have the info on Izuku from my AU for now(backstory summary included)

Dadzawa AU

Quirk AU

Abused AU

Headcanons used:

Quirks do not depend on genetics as much, genetics can influence the quirk someone has, however, it is rare for someone to have a genetic quirk.

Mutation quirks appear at birth

Aizawa is secretly a ripped boi

Kurogiri's portals are made of dark energy(important gor later on)

Izuku Midoriya/Aizawa

Quirk: Witch

Izuku can use his quirk in a similar fashion to Tokoyami, in which his quirk is stronger at night and weaker during the day. His Witch quirk allows him to draw power from the dark and use it to combat enemies. However, powerful negative emotions can cause him to lose control and cause massive damage to himself and anything in a 10ft radius. Essentially he can call upon shadow flames that are extremely hot, but also burn him if he uses them too much. A random side effect is that mainly black cats, as cats mostly just take interest in him, follow him everywhere. Which has his classmates convinced that his quirk is related to bringing bad luck.

Support gear:

Suppressor: These regulate his emotions to make sure that he doesn’t lose control. To minimize the use of the choker/collar-like device he will use medicines to regulate his emotions. The device also limits the use of his quirk by detecting the amount of light in an area and adjusting. MUST NOT SHUT OFF AT NIGHT, best case scenario he is hospitalized. Worst case scenario, his body is overwhelmed and he obliterates himself.

When Izuku was four, his quirk manifested like any other 4-year-old. When his father found out about his quirk, he flew into a fit of rage. In his father's rage, he watched his mother be killed in front of his eyes while trying to keep her husband from getting to their son. He was pulled out of school at age 6 in favor of “Homeschooling” and was severely abused by his father in every possible way, with the sexual abuse starting when he was about 8, and lasted until he was sold on the black market at age 10. He was forced to be a product in a human trafficking ring and was always kept in bright places or with quirk dampeners on so that he couldn’t fight back. He was rescued at the age of 13 by Aizawa, who found him during a night raid of a trafficking ring. Aizawa was the only one who had found Izuku, and thus Izuku formed an immediate trust bond with the man(He had heard the sounds of fighting, and figured that Aizawa was there to save him). Due to this, Aizawa adopted Izuku and the boy was put back into school once he was able to get used to a large number of people in an area and started training in order to use his quirk. Due to the lack of usage of his quirk, however, his body is not used to his quirk and is therefore unable to use it without damage if he goes too hard. Despite this, he still uses it at maximum power as possible during exams, and nearly kills Bakugo on accident in addition to nearly bringing the entire building down on top of him(Despite the dampener designed to help regulate but not block his quirk). He loses control and goes ape shit crazy when he watches Aizawa get nearly killed before him, and the resulting explosion of power he pulls from Kurogiri’s warp gates(Due to them consisting of mainly darkness) he uses to kill the Nomu but ends up injuring himself gravely and passes out while standing protectively by his father. Later during the sports festival, he becomes close friends with Shinsou.

Notes: Izuku doesn’t make many friends because of his past, only occasionally taking part in conversations with others until he meets Shinsou. He clicks with Shinsou incredibly fast, mainly because both have “villainous quirks” and also because he doesn’t have to talk much with Shinsou. And because of the cats.

This was heavily inspired by these people/stories:

@garbageisland-0 and their Nomu Deku

To Erase It All on Wattpad

Demise AU Deku(BECAUSE I'M A SLUT FOR DEPRESSION)

And minor inspiration bits from many others

[maddmuses]

Toshinori Yagi // All Might

Age: 49 (Izuku’s first year at U.A.) Aliases: All Might Date of Birth: 6/10 Place of Birth: Tokyo, Japan Ethnicity: 3/4 Japanese, 1/8 Caucasian, 1/8 Unknown (Generally accepted mix of types of West European, Native American, and possibly some Latin) Nationality: Japanese Species: Artificial Metahuman (Emitter-Type)

Appearance Toshinori is a man whose appearance changes significantly throughout his lifetime, broadly speaking he has three variants on his appearance that are recognizable through his lifetime. These are prior to his quirk’s fuller manifestation (before and while he was training to master One for All, Young Might for shorthand), the period in which he was in his physical peak or using his quirk following this time (Tall Might for the purposes of distinction), and the form All Might took when his quirk wasn’t in use following his battle with All for One and during his retirement (Small might, again for the sake of distinction).

Qualities that are consistent among all portrayals of All Might is that he’s generally considered very tall, if not for his age in general, standing over 7 feet tall at his heights. Even in regards to his time as Small Might, he generally only seems far shorter than he likely is due to excessive slouching and the illusion of lost size due to his lack of muscle mass. Toshinori is also well-known for having a very distinct mane of blonde hair, naturally being wild in the top and back, with bangs tending to form above his forehead, usually framing his face, though he’ll often style it into a sort of more windswept style while appearing as the Symbol of Peace. Most recognizable among his qualities are Toshinori’s light blue eyes, though later surrounded by black sclera that is the result of a Support-Gear mishap.

As Young Might, Toshinori was an unassuming young man, leaning on the tall side throughout middle school, with an unimpressive build. During this time he’d developed something of a complex when it came to his quirkless nature, and as a result he often carried himself with very little confidence. However, even at this young age, his smile was still something remarkable and noteworthy. In subsequent years, after he gained his quirk, Toshinori would grow to fill out his costumes better, and develop muscle mass that would someday lead to his most iconic appearance.

During his time as Tall Might he had become quite an imposing figure, with a broad build, and huge muscles, and a very angular face that allows shadow to cast easily along his features, skewing his eyes from sight. Generally he must receive his clothing on a made-to-fit basis, due to his unusual size or build, or otherwise must obtain them at specialty stores for particularly large men, or for mutative quirks that caused atypical needs for clothing. All Might’s costumes are usually very bright in design, with patterns that highlight his physique, frequently accompanied by a cape of some fashion. As a teacher at U.A., All Might would also often wear a pinstriped suit with golden jacket and pants, with a blue necktie.

Most starkly unrecognizable from any other phase of life in Yagi’s life, though, is the persona known as Small Might. While nothing much has particularly changed about his tastes by this point, he has become extremely slight in build, with his muscles having lost almost all of their bulk and retained still very little toning as well, and possessing an appearance often likened to that of a skeleton. A perceived loss of height occurs in this state for Toshinori, due to his reduced musculature. This is often emphasized by a pronounced hunch in his stature, and the way in which clothes that snugly fit Tall Might tend to hang off of Small Might. Notable to this version of Toshi’s appearance is a significant series of injury and surgically-inflected scars along his left side. These scars essentially center at the leftmost part of his chest and encompass to nearly down his hips. These injuries indicate a severely damaged respiratory system, which sabotages All Might’s ability to fight for long lengths of time, and the loss of his stomach, which permanently has impacted his ability to eat and gain nutrients necessary to maintain his previous condition. A result of these injuries and surgeries is that when his blood pressure rises too much, often in the case of surprise, Toshinori will often vomit blood.

Personality Toshinori Yagi is possessed of an inexplicable sense of justice, wishing to see good triumph evil, especially in a world where it seemed that evil and power would be that to allow someone such as him, without a quirk, to truly prevail. It was through this sense of justice that he developed the goal to become a pillar of hope for all, a symbol of peace that could serve to comfort and inspire others. While he truly and sincerely cares for fair play and what’s right in the world, this is still tempered by an understanding that the world isn’t fair, and that truly horrible things happen, and that the inherent unfairness of society is something that all heroes must prepare themselves for.

While outwardly, particularly when in public view, All Might is extremely boisterous and go-lucky, the true man is very serious, not being the type who particularly cares for having a lot of attention directed towards himself. This seriousness turns to more a somber and melancholic tone during the years following his battle with All for One, but preceding those in which he named Izuku his successor. This was thanks to a feeling of hopelessness as the feeling of the roaring inferno that once dwelt within Toshinori was weakening, as his body had begun to fail him, and he steadily became weaker as time went on.

This hardly made the hero a killjoy, though, as Toshinori is still a friendly enough person. In fact, he has a fairly good relationship with many of those who encountered him both in and out of his All Might persona, and years later was even willing to hear out the suggestion of his former sidekick Sir Nighteye when he had suggested Mirio as a successor for One for All. Ultimately, something that is consistent in Toshinori is his streak for optimism, and a slight penchant for oafishness, as seen when he’s frequently known to play dumb, much like Gran Torino.

While acting the part of the hero, All Might draws his persona from the American comic book stereotypes that he’d grown up on. Colorful and dramatic, with a constant grin that doesn’t seem to falter in even the most helpless of situations. Many often find him obnoxious as All Might, and even assume him to be a greater fool than he actually is. Extremely personable as a hero, All Might is often known to also get caught up individually greeting and speaking to each of his fans that he meets, even when he’s busy with other (non-emergency) tasks, such as overseeing Izuku’s training.

In the fashion that is considered by Toshinori to be a peak of heroic attitudes, All Might cares for the lives of everyone in the world, protecting others as fiercely as possible, and only ever attacking with murderous intent on the occasion of his final battles with All for One. Without thinking he has been known to rush into the front of battle in order to protect and rescue others, making All Might more than the strongest hero individually, but also what he considers to be a Rescue Specialist. And while he understands that saving everyone in the world is an impossible task, All Might will do anything it takes to save everyone, even at the cost of his own life.

This fiercely protective nature is especially evident in his interactions with his students at U.A. as indicated by one of the few times he’d ever become enraged being when The League of Supervillains had attacked the USJ. It was then, in the following battles, particularly against Nomu, that All Might’s smile turned into more of a grinning scowl.

All Might, being seen as the father of the current generation of heroes in a metaphorical sense, often takes a similar sort of attitude towards students at U.A., particularly towards his protege Izuku. He will often praise the growth of young heroes and heroes-in-training, readily offer advice when it is sought out or necessary, and often when speaking to them on a name-basis will use the term Shonen (usually “Young Man” but can also be used as simply “Young” in many contexts including this one) as an affectionate prefix to their names.

Biography (Pre-canon and addressing the years of All Might’s decline before meeting Midoriya) Toshinori was born fairly far on into the age of quirks, in a society where roughly 80% of the world had some type of quirk, to the point that in quirk hubs like Japan, his being born quirkless was considered unusual. Toshi was born to two Japanese business-people, his father was Gosen Yagi and his mother was Sansei Yagi. His father was well-known for working with clients who developed Hero Support Gear independently, soliciting companies and agencies to hire his clients as contractors so as to gain better margins, while still maintaining legal ownership of patents developed by themselves, rather than having their work belong to the Support Company in question. Sansen, meanwhile, generally worked to coordinate merchandising, branding, and other deals between hero agencies, particularly in the case of team-ups that encompassed multiple agencies, in which there is often a lot of red tape and difficulty in determining what fair shares of these types of business deals should be.

Gosen and Sansei met through mutual clients, as Gosen often managed to get work with agencies that were more willing to work with heroes of other agencies, and thus were often more willing to also solicit the work from independent contractors.

The two were very much a dichotomy, with Sansei’s motivation for her work being an altruistic one, believing that working to tear down, or at least minimize, the toxic culture of profit and abuse of privatizing heroic organizations that still received government subsidy would bring about the true golden age of heroics. Meanwhile, Gosen saw the great money and success to be found in Hero Support, and through maximizing his margins, skimming off the top, and taking aggressive contracts, he was able to create something of a small empire in the Hero Support world, and if he sometimes dealt in the black market who cared? Ultimately stronger villains and criminals could mean for a higher support of independent and cheap equipment to outfit a lot of heroes that many of his clients were known for!

Eventually Gosen and Sansei would marry after a year of dating, upon the discovery that Sansei was with child. Toshinori would soon be born, seeing the Summer and his blonde hair as an indication of a bright future.

Before he was a year old, though, Sansei would succumb to disease, having been of weak constitution, and having a difficult pregnancy, her body was just not able to fight off a number of sicknesses that ravaged her body at the same time. This would leave the boy with a single parent growing up.

Gosen was never the nurturing type to begin with, leaving Toshi with more memories of the women hired by his father to take care of him than his father himself, though Gosen was almost always home in time for dinner, which Toshi does remember distinctly. It was in these formative years that Toshi did what many children did growing up, attending school, making friends with classmates, and often being told by adults that he should give a lot of thought to what he should be growing up.

Influenced by comic books and the culture of heroes around him in these formative times, particularly when meeting pro heroes who were his father’s clients at “for-work” events that would reflect well on his father to have such a friendly and, mostly, well-adjusted child despite the absence of a mother.

As he grew up, Toshinori began to understand that a world with so many bright and colorful heroes putting their lives on the line indicated an admirable quality in these people, being that they were willing to do so much for people they’ve never met. However, it also meant that society was in a terrible place if it meant that people were frequently sacrificing their own well-being in order to ensure that every-day citizens not be hurt or taken advantage of by villains. The era of quirks that this was in experienced rising crime rates, despite the government and media trying their hardest to convince the public otherwise, it was apparent to anyone who could see this.

But such a system in which so many small lights would spark and flicker out in the wake of the suffocating darkness that still plagued this world. No, a pillar of goodness would be needed to match this darkness, and force it into the corners where they’d be at their weakest.

During his time in middle school, Toshi would encounter a woman, Nana Shimura, on multiple occasions. They were acquainted through Toshi’s farther, Gosen, attempting to convince they very prominent hero to use his client’s support gear, after having negotiated a deal with her friend and frequent team-up Gran Torino. Toshinori and Nana would talk, as he was a friendly and personable boy, and it seemed to her that he had a certain quality that reminded her of herself.

Throughout their first several meetings, each time at business affairs related to Gosen’s work, Nana hadn’t given Toshinori even a single thought when considering successors, and honestly she had been in little rush to pass One for All on yet, as her husband had not yet died, and aside from not yet defeating All for One, she had a very happy life.

It was at the end of Toshinori’s second year of middle school that things began to change. After Nana’s husband perished in an ambush that had been meant for the hero herself, Nana had sent her son into foster care, and threw herself more fully into her hero work. The death of her husband was a failing on Shimura’s part, she felt, and her sole motivation became defeating One for All, even neglecting other types of hero work, such as patrols, fighting unrelated villains, and generally being a pillar of the community, in this pursuit. In winter it was by pure happenstance that she would be roused from this fog of revenge.

In the late afternoon, by a riverbank that Toshinori would often visit in the years following, Nana noticed a familiar mane of golden hair. An unusual look in Japan, it was a no-brainer that the well-spoken son of Gosen was spending his time near the waterways. Toshi had taken to stopping by the banks to consider how things had changed, and after hearing his father tell him about the woman he’d met becoming a widow, he frequently had taken to pasting obituaries of those who died in villain attacks on the wall of bridge’s underpass.

Catching the boy as he had started to set off on his way home, the two shared a conversation, though this one was different than those in the past. But this time the conversation had managed to turn about to society, heroes, and Toshi’s plans were, since high school was around the corner.

This is when he told her that he planned to enroll into U.A. in the support course, he wanted to become a pillar of light, a symbol of peace, that could inspire others, make them feel safe, and cause them to smile. It was in this conversation that Nana had realized being a hero was beyond things like revenge, and that defeating All for One took more than simply gunning for a solitary figure of darkness and underworld evil. It took defeating all evil, because even defeating All for One would simply result in a vacuum that would be filled with another similar evil.

Over the following year Toshi would be trained by Nana to prepare for One for All. Eventually, prior to enrolling into U.A. and taking the entrance exam, Toshinori would inherit One for All, taking fairly quickly to it, being able to access a much higher percentage of it without injury, when compared to his own successor.

Abilities and Skills -Indomitable Spirit: Notable as something he possesses independent of his quirk, All Might has been shown as the type of person who won’t back down so long as he still experiences the drive to be a hero. In this he’s been able to fight past his limitations, even following his injuries, pushing his form as All Might past what Toshinori expected he could do at the time. His willpower is at its most evident when fighting Nomu and All for One, both enemies who it seemed that he wouldn’t have been able to defeat given his circumstances.

Superhuman Powers and Abilities Quirk: One for All -Power Accumulation: One half of the quirk was that of a Power Accumulation Quirk. While the specific functions of the original quirk itself are unknown to everyone but All for One and the first holder of One for All, this quirk currently functions, in its interaction with the Power Passing function of this quirk, in that it allows the quirk to accumulate power. The means by which One for All accumulates power is by passing between individuals. With each concurrent individual that the quirk passes onto the more power this quirk accumulates, having on some level been described as a sort of energy, though this may not be the greatest expressed understanding of what the quirk accumulates. What remains consistent is that the physical abilities of each successor has been greater after gaining this quirk than their predecessors, being greater than the sum of those that came before them. In addition, this power steadily accumulates the quirks of its previous users as well, though this specifically didn’t manifest until Toshinori’s successor Izuku started to unlock the quirk’s powers. Notably, the original carrier of the power accumulation quirk has also factored into this. This accumulated power can prove problematic, as the actual surge of energy inside the body can actually destroy the physical form of someone who has obtained the quirk, but doesn’t have a sufficiently strong enough body to withstand it. On the other side of that, it seems that One for All cannot be copied as a quirk, or at least used effectively, unless a quirk that mimics One for All can also mimic the accumulated energy of the quirk as well. --Physical Power Access: Each user of One for All is able to access the physical abilities and attributes of the previous quirk holders. This means that, strictly speaking, All Might has the concurrent physical ability of eight other individuals, besides his own, to utilize while fighting. However, All Might’s feats of strength, speed, and durability, far exceed what one could expect the sum of that many people, given that All Might has shown to have created explosions that impact the weather around him in a weakened state, and could be similar to that of an atomic bomb at his peak. This likely means that previous holders of One for All had physical quirks that somehow integrated their function into the quirk’s base of power, or that the power was increased by factors. Speaking to the case of the latter, it wasn’t realized that quirk functions COULD be passed by One for All until Izuku had inhreited it. In the mun’s opinion, the accumulation of power that enhances a One for All user is not literally a measure of their physical ability, and there are other factors which play into it, and that rather since it seems that the souls of its predecessors inherit the quirk to some degree, it is the sum of their being that fuels the quirk, and thereby must mean that it is the person’s being, and not solely their physicality, is what allows a One for All user to be so powerful. ---Superhuman Strength ---Superhuman Speed and Reflexes ---Superhuman Durability ---Superhuman Stamina --Physiological Limitation Enhancement: Each user of One for All uses their quirk differently, and All Might notably seems to be the physically largest and most powerful user of this quirk. In order to train to reach the limits of what he could achieve with the quirk, All Might had to push his body past a physical limit that would be considered realistic given his human biology. Therefore it stands to reason that One for All lifts the physical limits of a person’s body, and what they’re able to attain. -Quirk Bequeathment: This quirk is unique in that the user is able to pass on their quirk at will, but only the One for All quirk specifically. Through this, and the ability to accumulate power that mutated into this quirk, One for All has become a quirk that gets stronger with each passing succession. One for All cannot, currently, can be passed through the ingestion of a quirk holder’s DNA. This, with the digestion of aforementioned DNA, allows the quirk to integrate into the biology of its new possessor, granting them a weakened version of the quirk, which over time will strengthen to match, then exceed, the previous users. Although the predecessor of One for All has passed on the quirk, it seems that they have not literally lost its abilities, as previous bearers of the quirk have fought side-by-side with their successors, though the quirk does seem to grow weaker over time, or at least this was the case with Toshinori, who admittedly had been on the downturn prior to passing on his quirk to Izuku. This function of One for All has proven uniquely able to still remain under its owner’s control, however, as One for All must be willingly passed on, and simply drinking the blood of an unwitting holder of this quirk will not pass One for All onto the individual’s assaulter, as was the case when Izuku fought the Hero Killer Stain. --Predecessor Echoes: The souls of the previous users, mostly those who seem to not be alive anymore, continue to dwell within One for All. It’s through this that users of One for All seem to be able to resist mesmerizing or hypnotic effects, as the predecessors who live within One for All seem to be able to call to and rally the current successor. -Rally cry of need: It has been revealed by Toshinori in Vigilantes that a function of One for All is that the quirk seems to react to those in need, specifically their cries, serving as fuel to make the quirk stronger in the moment. It is unknown if this is the manifestation of a predecessor’s clone, or is someho0w related to the originator’s strong sense of justice.

Weaknesses and Limitations -Recoil: While All Might’s durability is greatly enhanced by his quirk, it is not to the degree that it can sustain its own maximum output without sufficient training. This is rarely an issue for Toshinori, though, as he has always been particularly talented in the use of his quirk, and thanks to there being fewer villainous attacks near him during his training period, as well as having teachers who had a better understanding of how to teach others to use their quirk, he was able to develop the fullest extent of his quirk with fewer incidents of injury. At his absolute maximum, All Might is at risk of injury if he doesn’t control his quirk appropriately, or otherwise fails to use his quirk in a way that will ensure a resistance to the shock of his own attacks, he can easily break his own bones in the process of attack. -Physical Condition: One for All is a quirk which relies heavily on its user’s physical condition, and this is made especially evident during the time of All Might’s decline, as well as during Izuku’s training. Accordingly, All Might’s quirk recedes and shores in raw power according to his current physical condition. This means that presently All Might is 60x weaker (by his own estimation) -Power Accumulation: The nature of One for All is that it’s a quirk which relies on energy that it’s collected from previous users, initially believed to solely be the physical abilities of its users, this has later been revealed to also include the quirks of predecessors. Due to having not accumulated enough of that energy along the path to All Might, who is the eighth, All Might is unable to access the quirks of previous users.

Equipment and Support Gear -Costumes: All Might has used a number of costumes over his careers. These costumes have all been uniquely designed from materials by David Shield to withstand All Might’s particular brand of high-impact combat. Additionally, the costume provides extra support that, in some form, protects All Might from the recoil of his own quirk. -Various Support Equipment: Either through the pressure of his agency, or as a favor to David Shield, All Might has used a variety of support equipment over the years, and likely still maintains possession of them. However, he’s determined that they aren’t quite to his style, or liking, and prefers to instead fight without additional equipment in most situations, relying on his own physicality and quirk to fight villains and rescue citizens. -High Density Weights: Used only during the one round of practical exams that he was able to oversee while teaching at U.A. These weights reduce All Might’s stamina and speed, as well as add 25% of his body’s weight to his physical strain. -Quirk Amplifying Device (Revitalized AU only): Designed by David Shield as a way to allow All Might to be a hero again, this device essentially restored All Might’s physical condition by enhancing the accumulated energy within his version of One for All, effectively allowing him to operate at his physical peak again. This treatment wasn’t considered legal, and was done in the heat of an intense battle, when all else seemed to fail.

Databook Statistics -Power: 6/6 (S+) -Speed: 6/6 (S+) -Technique: 6/6 (S) -Intelligence: 6/6 (S) -Cooperativeness: 6/6 (S) -Charisma: 6/6 (S+)

[irlpinkiepie]

a house built on sand, chapter 1

a bnha fic

Dreams are fickle creatures.

Sometimes the most certain can fall apart at a moment's notice, and sometimes, the most fantastic dreams have a chance of coming true.

Of course, that all depends on the dreamer.

[ao3]

Wake up. Get ready for school. Breakfast. Grab bag, out the door, to the subway station - seven minute walk from home, leaving by 7:38 to catch the 7:47 train, or by 7:54 for the 8:03 in an emergency. Ride twelve stops into the city, disembark eighteen minutes later, eight minute walk to the school gate, or five cutting through the alleyways and running; only in an emergency, though. Get to school at 8:13, 8:26 at the latest, plenty of time before an 8:30 start. After two years of practice, it’s pretty much routine at this point.

Hop out of the train, head down the steps to Main Street. Today was one of those emergencies, but normally that wouldn’t be a problem; sleeping in a bit isn’t usually a crime, especially not if there’s a plan in place to deal with it. What is a crime, though, is robbery, felony assault, and use of quirk to disrupt the peace.

There’s a lot more people in the city square than usual.

There’s definitely a lot more giant shark men terrorizing the city than usual.

It can’t be helped. An attack in the center of town? That’ll definitely make the news, and this close to the train station, public transport is going to grind to a halt until this is dealt with. A perfect excuse to stay and watch to the end.

The notebook, worn heavy with lead etchings, is the thirteenth of its kind. Its margins are filled to the brim, the notes inside cataloguing only the last few months of a long career of observation. Most of the pages are individual profiles, cataloguing up and coming professionals; some are summaries, geographic patterns, strengths and weaknesses; a few, tucked at the back, are theories and gushes penciled by a thoroughly devoted fan. And right now, another blank page is being converted into notes on the scene unfolding that morning.

“You some kind of fanboy, kid?”

They didn’t know. They couldn’t have known.

Didn’t stop it from hurting.

Focus. Back on the scene. Kamui’s a good hero. Obvious weaknesses, but here he’s perfect. Typically, against villains with gigantification, heroes have the advantage of stealth, but it’s hard to leverage that into an actual fight. Here, though, the growing quirk means that not only can he compete on equal footing, but he can do so without compromising that advantage. Best of all, damage to property is likely to be fairly minimal if there’s only one gia--

Two giant people.

Stealing credit is typically frowned upon, but there’s no doubt it gets results. Mt. Lady, she said? It’s definitely worth writing that one down; first impressions are everything, and this one comes in spectacular fashion. A few cursory notes, mostly copied from the page before, before looking up and seeing the crowd beginning to dissipate as the scene calms down.

There will be time for such things later. For now, school.

Sticking to the main roads, but definitely running. More plausible to be late and exhausted than nonchalant. It’s probably hit the news online already, but better to be safe than sorry.

Watch. Time. 8:38. Panic. Calm. It’ll be alright.

Front gate. Main door. Turn left. Second on the right. Brace for impact.

“And what, young man, is the reason for your lateness this morning?”

She hated school days.

It wasn’t her fault. Not really. Not this.

Or.

Let’s back up.

Superpowers.

It’s an evocative word, isn’t it? Conjuring up images of comic book heroes, using unimaginable abilities to defeat evil villains, protecting citizens from terror. And certainly, when there exists power, there are those who seek to use it for the benefit of society, and those who threaten to abuse it. But what the old comics (and she had read many of them) failed to predict was what would happen to everyone else.

A bit further back.

And a bit to the west.

Perfect.

Keikei City, PRC. At the sight of what was once a hospital, now a memorial. She’d heard this story what must have been a hundred times before. There had been no signs during the pregnancy of anything unusual, but complications arose during childbirth. Suddenly, a routine procedure turned into a medical marvel, then a harbinger.

“Bioluminescence: Ability to emit light from body. Certain manifestations allow the user to vary the presence and amount of light emitted, while others are fixed at a constant brightness; no known cases of color variance have been observed. Has potential in rescue situations, but imparts little strength in combat; distinguishing the limitations of a particular user is important before planning counterattacks, as combatting the former is much more difficult than the latter.”

Volume One, Page One. This nameless child wasn’t exactly a superhero, but it made the most sense from her to start from the very beginning and work forward. And so she did; just below this paragraph, underneath a pile of marginal cross-references, follows every known superhero from before her time - a great deal had been lost or was only fragments, but she had put in her research. This first notebook covered the entirety of the history of superpowers, from that first baby to the year she was born, as best as she could figure out. It may have had an odd focus, written in the shaky hand of a nine year old, but to her it was a masterpiece.

And from then on: more of a catalogue than research, but with equivalent rigour. News reports would be carefully copied down and analyzed, maps would be drawn, and when pages from each journal were lined up and read in series, they formed an elegant picture of a career in motion. She undoubtedly had her own personal favorites, but for her this project was vital research; someone reading any single page, though, would be convinced that this must be her favorite hero. Everything was catalogued: wins, losses, powers, weaknesses, who and when and where and why. It had to be.

“Super Strength: As the name implies, a superhuman level of physical strength, though the level varies from user to user. One of the most common quirks, it has obvious utility in combat situations, though its relative predictability makes it easy to counter in many situations. Less obvious is its potential in non-combat situations: in these cases, predictability can serve as a benefit, ensuring reliable rescues compared to heroes with more powerful but more volatile quirks.

“Because this quirk augments normal abilities, rather than creating new ones, it can often be discovered at a relatively late age, including in some who were thought to be Quirkless.”

Sometimes, it was hard not to cry.

Fortunately, as she’d expected, her professor had in fact seen that news broadcast before school started; a few gasps of “Train…… villain…… rush………” was all she needed to explain herself, and he let her off with an understanding nod.

“Anyway, where was I…” he mumbled as she found her way to her desk, dropping her bag next to her and almost collapsing into her chair. “Right. I know the school year is only just beginning, but it’s time we start adjusting ourselves to the future.”

The future. She wondered about this for a moment. How many of her junior high classmates would follow her even as far as high school? She pictured, for a moment, herself as a professional hero, arriving at the scene of a crime to find one of those familiar faces look up at her with no recognition. How strange, she thought, that I know so many people who’ve never met me.

“...entering your third year now,” continued his drone from the front of the class, “so it’s time you start thinking about the responsibility…”

What would my hero name be? she wondered. She wasn’t sure if she was fantasizing or predicting at this point, but either way she was dedicated. Costume? Maybe the finer details weren’t important, but sometimes when the bigger picture seemed impossible to grasp, the details were a small comfort that helped pull her through. Like this one: maybe once she graduated, she’d be able to start over.

“...in choosing your high school for next year.”

Suddenly, a flash of realization. She looked behind and to the right, and saw a blinding grin shine out from the boy in the far back with the spiky blond hair.

“I presume all of you want to become heroes!”

Sometimes, though, the details are what separate a building weathering the storm from one which collapses when the wind hits at just the right angle.

“Katsuki, you’re intending to apply to UA High, is that correct?”

And right now, Izuku Midoriya wanted nothing more than for the rubble of her hopes to somehow, magically, repair itself.