#my hero academia gifs

[biovyxart]

POV: You're little Keigo's caretaker who is informed by higher ups he's on a strict diet.

Do not fall for his pleas.

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - even after months apart

You stood in front of the hero commission, a heavy heart in your head, but a blank look on your face as you stare at them.

“So you want me to infiltrate a gang of villains, and gather as much information as you need?”

One of the men nods, clasping his hands together.

“Yes, with your quirk, your heightened sense you are the perfect candidate for the job, we need to know everything regardless of how small it may seem.”

You nod again, looking down at the engagement ring on your finger before looking back up at the ground who had gathered in front of you.

You didn’t exactly have a choice in this, these people controlled your whole career, and if you didn’t thousands of people could be hurt.

“What about my family…? Friends…?”

Someone else sighs and she speaks up.

“They’ll be told that you went missing on a mission, which means we’re going to need your ring, and your phone.”

You hand over your phone, and hesitate to hand over your ring, and they were patient while waiting.

After what felt like forever, you slowly slide it front your hand, pressing a kiss to it, whispering a quick sorry before handing it over to start your uncover mission.

It was going to be long, dreadful, and it would take a while to earn the villains trust before you could start gaining valuable information that’ll help the other heroes when the time comes.

Every night you would sit on your bed in the room they had eventually given you, just staring up at up at the ceiling, thinking about the man you loved.

The man you left behind so you could do this.

The same thoughts always rushing around your mind.

Would he be okay?

Would he be safe?

Is he still looking for you?

Has he moved on?

Will he hate you if this all ends?

Would he still love you?

Would he forgive you?

You sigh, burying your face into the capture scarf of his that you had managed to take from the apartment months ago before you left for this mission.

He didn’t use this one anymore, it was ripped and had some holes, but it still smelt like him, reminded you off him and brought you comfort.

With another sigh, you sit up and cross your legs as you close your eyes, focusing on your hearing while you activated your quirk.

You listened to everything going on around the villains base, moving from sound to sound to find anything that could be of use to the hero commission.

Sometimes you would linger on a conversation to just listen to what villains spoke about when they weren’t committing crimes before you moved on after a few minutes.

Everything of interest you heard you would pick up a book and underline certain words.

More months slipped by, and you dropped the book off in a post office with an address written on it, before going back to the villains base.

They only send you out on small run missions, dropping things off at the post office, each time you changed the address to the hero commissions office.

On the way back you grabbed a new book, and carried on walking down the street with your hood up.

“Stop walking now.” A cold voice demanded.

Your whole body tensed up, and you stopped, recognising the voice.

He was standing in an alleyway just behind you.

“So this is what you’ve been doing? Hiding?” He snapped.

“Shouta please….” You whispered.

“You just disappear without a trace, leave your engagement ring with the hero commission without saying a single word. Is that really how much how relationship was worth to you?” He asked lowly.

You sigh a little bit, keeping your gaze turned towards the ground.

“No….”

“Then what the hell was it?!” He snapped quietly.

You let out a heavy sigh again.

“I think about you every night…” you whisper.

Aizawa carefully looks at you, you wouldn’t even turn to look at him.

“I just… I pray that after all this ends I still have a place inside your heart…. When you see what I’ve become I just… I want to know if you’ll love me for who I am…”

You take a small breath.

“I’ll be back some day… I just hope when that day comes you won’t hate me…”

With that, you slipped into the crowds before he could even think about saying something else to you.

That was all you saw off him, and even then you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, you felt so ashamed for hurting him the way you had, breaking his trust, leaving him alone.

The mission went on for a few more months before everything was in place for the heroes to move in, and you were immediately taken back to the hero commission and here you spent hours in and out of meetings.

When they were all finished, you stepped outside of the building into the morning sun and took a small breath, looking around.

Your phone was dead, and had been for months, you weren’t sure about going back to the shared apartment, you didn’t even know if Aizawa would even still be there, so you headed to a hotel instead and booked a room for the week.

Getting a shower, you went back out to buy some clean clothes and a charger and went back to the hotel room for sleep and to charge your phone.

What woke you up a knocking on your hotel room door, and with a grumble you got up and walked over to answer it.

“Room service…?” You asked half asleep.

“Guess again.” A gruff voice spoke.

You stared at Aizawa half asleep, and stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m too tired to argue with you right now…”

You walked back over to the bed and laid down, resting your head in your arms as you laid on your stomach.

Aizawa closed the door and walked over, standing at the end of the bed.

He just stared at you with narrowed eyes, and his gaze slowly moved to a few scars on your arms.

He knew you, he knew your body, and he knew that before you just up and left you never had those scars.

He slowly walked over, sitting on the edge of bed, carefully leaning over slightly, getting a better look at them.

“What the hell happened while you were away…?” He whispered.

You just grumbled, still exhausted and rolled on your side with your back to him, your shirt rose up, and he could see a few smaller scars on your lower back and he looked to the bottom of your shirt, slowly reaching out.

Within an instant you grabbed his wrist, now sitting up and looking at him with a warning look.

“Shouta don’t….”

“(Y/N) what the hell happened…? What have you been doing all these months…?”

You took a deep breath, loosening your grip on his wrist but not fully letting go as you looked away.

“I can’t tell you… I’m sorry…”

He nodded, he had a feeling it was something to do with the mission he was sent on with a lot of other heroes to a group of villains base, but he wouldn’t push you to talk about it.

Aizawa sighed gently

He glanced to his scarf that you had taken which was sat on a chair in the corner of the room, then back to you.

“I’m sorry for everything…. For leaving you the way I did… if I could go back and change it I would…”

“I think I understand… but I just… I wish you would have reached out (Y/N) to tell me you were okay… that you were alive…”

You looked away, and he slowly pulled his hand back until his palm was pressed against yours, and he slowly laced his fingers with yours.

You still couldn’t meet his gaze, and his face softened.

“Hey… hey look at me…”

You raised your gaze to meet his, and he brought the back of your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

“Whatever happened then.. you’re safe… now come home?”

“You… want me to come back…?”

Aizawa rolled his eyes, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head.

“Yes, the bed is empty without you and I can’t find anything, come home.”

This made you laugh a little bit, and you grabbed what you had to go back to the apartment with him.

The moment you were through the door Aizawa placed his hands on the sides of your face, gently leaning down to kiss you.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds and he dug through his pockets before finally pulling out your engagement ring, putting it back on your ring finger before kissing it.

“Mine…” he mumbled.

He rested his chin on your head, still holding your hands in his, and you closed your eyes in content.

This was all you wanted, to be back here with him, to be back with your future husband knowing you were safe and loved

[0lympia]

dopamine - denki kaminari

summary: recovery isn’t linear or easy. it isn’t a million things, and it’s about a million other things. you know this, most of hero society knows this and sort of accepts this. doctors and physical therapists and psychiatrists know this, and preach it. you know it too.

warnings: aftermath of war, mention of injuries, therapy, denki is a good friend

wc: 2,459

"Progress isn't linear," your physical therapist reminds you. It takes every last ounce of self control to keep yourself from snapping that you know hands white-knuckling the wood of the parallel bars.

You want to scream at all your therapists and doctors and nurses that you know progress isn't linear. There's no way for you to not know when you've heard it about a hundred times a day in the six months since the war.

It's even harder to deny when you watch your classmates, fellow hero students, struggle through recovery. The depression and anxiety and PTSD had swept through the nation, and had taken down aspiring heroes and pro heroes alike in massive swathes. You'd watched as the interest in becoming a hero dwindled, no longer a fantasy pipe dream for anybody, but instead a hard earned title with terrifying, life threatening responsibilities.

"I know," You huff out, mostly out of pain and exertion, and you try to take yet another excruciating step. You know you're only moving a few inches at a time — a sad shuffle, if you're honest — but it feels like miles.

There are a few of your classmates also in the PT room, all working on one motor skill or another. Midoriya is seated at one of the tables by the window, working with his own therapist to just grip a pencil.

You'd watched the terrifying green-haired aspiring hero go from screaming and shouting through tears to quiet frustrated sniffling and stifled tears when they'd had him working on the fine motor skill of writing. It had broken your heart, knowing that prior to the war he'd spent nearly all his spare time writing in that notebook he kept. Before the war you might have offered him a smile, some gesture of encouragement, but now you could barely even take a step before the titanium pins holding your joints together jostled and pain shot through you.

You're still hunched over, bracing yourself on the wooden bars, and you can feel a tug on your gait belt as your therapist makes sure you aren't going to fall on your face. You take another sad, measly, step forward and pain races through you, from your toes all the way up through your spine and into your skull. There's a quiet shout as you do it, and for moment you think the sound came from you, but your gait belt remains relaxed.

The shout had come from next to you, Kaminari had fallen, his therapist catching him before his knees could even hit the ground.

You'd watched him struggle through therapy too. His Quirk leaving his body wracked with uncontrollable shakes and tremors. You could still recall very clearly the absolute frustration and anguish he'd expressed at one of the early class therapy sessions over his autonomy being robbed from him.

You could relate.

"Fuck!" He curses, and you can tell he's biting back tears. You take another step, and it hurts so bad a grunt of pain escapes your gritted teeth, knees buckling so hard that your therapist can't seem to react fast enough, and you barely catch yourself on the bars.

You look over at Kaminari, and he's watching you through the long fringe of his blonde hair, the black streak he dyed into nearly entirely faded out. You know he's taking stock of your injuries, the same way you're assessing him, as you ease yourself to the padded floor with a heavy sigh.

"This never seems to get any easier, does it?" He asks, and he's offering you a smile.

"No," you agree in a rasp, vocal cords scraping roughly, never to sound like they did before the war, "It doesn't."

You quickly wipe away your stray tears of pain, turning your head in hopes that you don't have to watch as his expression morphs into something like pity. Or understanding, maybe. Either way, the looks people give you now make you sick to your stomach.

You'd been beaten nearly to death. Though, who hadn't. And although you hadn't had quite as exciting a resuscitation as Bakugou had, you'd been resuscitated twice during your hospital stay. The surgeries had been intensive, not that you'd know having been practically comatose for the three weeks following the end of the war, and recovery had been painfully slow.

Your throat had been ruined, and the reconstruction hadn't been easy — or pretty. So now your voice was a shallow rasp of what it had once been, and that was an improvement from the disturbing gargle it had been at the first class therapy session.

Kaminari was eyeing the marred skin on your neck, angry raised pink and red skin whorling around your neck and up to the right side of your chin and jawline.

Again, not pretty.

"I ha-haven't—haven't seen you without ban-ba-bandages before," Denki comments quietly, and when you lift your head to offer him a wry grin he's looking away, face twisted into something that looks like shame. Or maybe it's embarrassment. You have a hard enough time picking through your own emotions without the help of your therapist to be trying to decipher anybody else's.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," You mutter despondently, a hand coming to feel at the whorls of scar tissue, "I know it's pretty nasty."

Kaminari's therapist is helping him into a wheelchair now, the same as yours, holding onto you by your gait belt.

"Nah," He says, shaking his head as he leans back into the wheelchair. Then he's wheeled out, and his therapist takes him down a hall you've never been down.

"Progress isn't linear," Denki's therapist tells him.

"I know," Denki says, and he's glad that his voice is his right now. No stuttering, no awkward stumbles, his brain firing only the synapses it needs to, "It's just— I went from having total control to having none in just a little over a day. And the worst part is I did it to myself. People would have died if I didn't, but I would still be me if I hadn't."

Denki knows he's shaking, knows because his therapist is offering him a blanket— still not able to tell when he's got tremors or when he's actually shivering. He just shakes his head at her, not sure that when he opens his mouth next he'll be able to speak.

"People would have died either way," His therapist tells him, "Had you been put in your position again, knowing what it would do to you to stay, would you do it again?"

Denki looks appalled, shocked, maybe even a little angry at the thought, "I'd do it a hundred times over if that meant we had a better chance at winning the war."

For some reason, as his therapist points to him, telling him that he's got answer right there, he thinks of you. Wonders if you'd do it all again, even with the knowledge that you'd end up potentially with the worst of the injuries.

He remembers seeing you get wheeled past him in the hospital when the war had ended. A nurse had been on top of you, doing chest compressions, and he would never forget how air had wheezed past your lips, and the noise your ribs made as they cracked from the compressions. He'd been horrified when you passed by, his classmates who could stand gasping at the state of you as you'd been wheeled by. He remembers the many odd angles your legs had bent, and the vicious burns and cuts in your neck, and how your face had been so bloodied and bruised and swollen you were unrecognizable. The only indication it was you had been your tattered hero costume, hanging off of you in shreds.

"A friend of mine," Denki starts, even though he knows todays session is coming to a close, the visual timer his indicator, "Was in even worse condition than I was after the war. I think the worst condition in our class. They're still attending classes even though they can barely walk most of the time. I know they'd do it all again, too. But I can't imagine why they'd want to suffer through all that they have again."

"Why don't you ask them that?" His therapist suggests.

The next day Denki does just that. He hunts you down on wobbling legs, world tilting as he does, after classes had ended. Despite most everybody in class still suffering mobility issues, regular classes had resumed two months after the war had ended. And despite your incredibly limited mobility, your Quirk helped you get around better than most.

The war had either drawn friends closer in the aftermath, people clinging to the bonds they already had, like Denki had done, his friendships with his classmates who were willing even stronger than they had been prior to the war. Or it did what it had done to you, the remnants of war weighing so heavily that seclusion seemed to be the only option.

Then again, most everybody had become more withdrawn in the aftermath of the war. Conversations between anybody was stilted, even amongst those who had been closer than close.

So when he'd finally hunted you down, exhausted and shaking so bad it was wonder he'd managed to find you at all, it was an odd sort of relief when you'd smiled in greeting.

You'd hidden away on dorm roof, knowing that if anybody wanted to talk to you the stairs made the process all that more difficult for most of your classmates. You waved him over, and he wobbled his way over to you trying his best to walk steady, even as a particularly bad wave of tremors came over him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" You'd asked in way of greeting when he'd taken a seat next to you near the edge of the roof. You even smiled at him, halfway forced, but mostly genuine, the muscles in your face atrophied from a general lack of use over the past six months.

Denki smiles in return, his mouth twitching wildly as his brain misfires, "I was hoping I could ask you something. If that's okay?"

A spark of panic runs through you, there aren't usually very many scenarios when you're asked a question that doesn't make everybody uncomfortable when you deign to answer. You spare a glance at him, searching for any signs of discomfort in his face. Finding none, you nod slowly.

"If you could go back, would you still have fought in the war, knowing what you know now?"

You stare at him, and you can already see the regret sinking into his face. You rush to find an answer. You'd had a similar conversation with your therapist before, back when the concept of survivor's guilt had been new and foreign. You had told your therapist yes, of course you would, because -

"-It didn't really feel like there was any other choice to make," The words leave your mouth involuntarily.

Your classmates had expressed similar sentiments, that they were there, what else were they supposed to do? You didn't care that you were already there, time and place had nothing to do with it. You could've been out of there in a matter of minutes.

"You could've walked away, though," Denki says, knowing the same as you that getting away wasn't the issue like it had been for most of his classmates, "You had a choice. Why did you stay?"

"I was either going to die that day or live with a lifetime of guilt. Dying seemed easier at the time."

He flinches at the mention of death, having tasted it himself, "But you didn't."

"No," You agree, "I didn't. I wrecked myself, and I'd do it all again, even as I am now if it means I can die knowing I did all that I could."

He hums, maybe with electricity, you don't know. You don't look over to check.

"Nobody would have been mad at you if you'd left."

"I would have."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Your words haunt Kaminari in the days that follow, and he makes an active effort to drag you into his friend groups activities. You let him pull you along for lunch with his friends, and you try your hardest to greet them with the same enthusiasm they did.

His friends are riddled with about the same amount of scar tissue you are, Bakugo perhaps the worst. You'd heard about his meeting with death on the battlefield with All For One. He'd sought you out maybe a month after Kaminari had integrated you into their friend group to talk about the shared experience of dying.

Then, suddenly, you couldn't seem to shake Kaminari, try as you might. He was walking with you to and from class, and the two of you did physical therapy together, even though you'd progressed to a point where you could start more intensive training and he still wobbled every other step.

So, maybe it was a two-person effort that pulled him into your life, an integral player. Or maybe it was an unhealthy trauma bond, you couldn't tell, chest still numb in the aftermath. Though, you couldn't tell if the numbness was from your anti-depressants or the war.

"I'm glad you've found a support group of sorts," Your therapist tells you at your next visit, "It's important to have friends and strong bonds in times like these."

You nod along numbly. Granted, your therapist's right, you've been feeling better since that day on the roof when Kaminari had hunted you down to ask you what nobody else seemed to want to.

"Kaminari's been a really good friend to me," You tell your therapist, "Feels like I haven't been as good of a friend as I maybe should be."

Your therapist only hums, and leaves with the advice that you should maybe do something to let Kaminari know you appreciate his friendship with you.

The next time Kaminari finds you on the roof, you're greeting him with a Pikachu phone charm and a box of his favorite cookies.

"To say thanks," you tell him, even though he doesn't ask and you don't look at him. Kaminari's chest blooms with an electric warmth and this time he's sure it's not from his Quirk.

"You should call me Denki," Is all he says, and he feels giddy at the thought, "We're friends, after all."

You hum, your legs swinging gently over the ledge of the dorm roof. You smile with no restraint when you finally return his gaze, your eyes meeting his shaking golds.

"Only if you call me (f/n), Denki."

It's like you took a shot of dopamine when he smiles in return, and says, "Okay, (f/n)."

[amaranthdahlia]

maybe in another life

alternative title: the fault in our quirks (corny ik)

heres the individual portraits!

and heres one with yoichi upside

commissions

[brightenight-heart]

[thena0315]

Brother vs Brother: Round 1

Winner: Dabi

[nightowl1556]

R.A.7. Smiling again but in GIFS 😁

[zombiebomb]

🫧 — ; " don't threaten me with a good time. "

SHOTO TODOROKI GRAPHICS

requested by ; anon !

F2U, creds not needed but appreciated

[rosemarysquirk]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if you would be able to write Hitoshi shinsou smut?

Thank youuu, have a nice day/night!

𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞

|| synopsis: you help shinso out on his patrols more often than not || || word count: 380 || || note: This and any fic after this, will include the AGING UP of characters! I am no freak! So any of these My Hero fics will be of them when they are GROWN ADULTS and PRO HEROES! Thank you and goodnight! || || note 2: thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this! ||

it was almost pathetic. the way you couldn't stop the tears from flowing down your aching cheeks, at least that's what shinso thought anyways. he thought there was nothing more beautiful than pulling you off to the side while he was out on hero patrol, tucking the two of you away and how eagerly you got onto your knees, despite the terrain you had to kneel on. he found the sight of you below him, your plump, aching lips wrapped around his cock more intoxicating than anything else in the damn world. the adrenaline rushing through both of your veins at the notion of the two of you getting caught in such a vulnerable position, especially while he was on active duty. his tired eyes look down at you, watching you struggle to keep your eyes up on him as you stuffed your throat full of his cock. your pretty little wet eyelashes fluttering as you brought yourself to the base and back, going the extra mile for him, your fingers digging into his hips to pull him closer to you. you could feel every throb of his cock inside of you, your tongue coated in his delicious pre-cum. "look at me, baby." his voice was hoarse, strained from keeping quiet just so no one would get too curious for their own good. you swore it send a pulse straight to your core. your eyes trained back onto his face, a whine leaving you, making him have to bite back a groan at the feeling. he loved when you whined or choked on his length, the vibrations driving him up the wall. you could easily have him wrapped around your pretty little finger if you kept that up, but he'd never admit that to you. one of his rough hands tussled up your hair, pushing some of it out of your face as he gave you one of his rare half smirk-half grins. the hand on your hair moved to the back of your head, pushing you against him with no chance of you pulling back until he let you. when your throat constricted around him, he felt his body shudder, staring down at you with those ever intimidating violet eyes. you got the feeling you'd be here a little longer than you'd hope for.

|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 || || PS: shout out to my amazing husband for the plot of this one thank u pookie wookie boo boo bear<3||

[cloudi-scarlett]

ɪ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ.

ᴅᴀʙɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ !ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴅᴀɴɪ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ. ᯓᡣ𐭩

small cussing, and mention of wounds, and blood. Lmk if I missed anything! (This is not proofread.)

It’s a bit short, so I apologize.

You were his doll, his everything, he cherished you the most since he thought you were the only good thing in his life. That was until he saw you like this. Hurt, and injured. He would’ve lost it right then and there if he didn’t get you somewhere safe.

This all started due to a faulty plan Shigaraki had made. Dabi would deal with him later. This plan ended up in a full fight with Heroes. He placed you against the warehouse buildings wall, luckily he found this place. You let out a small grunt, he was searching around for abandoned first medical supplies, or even better, a first aid kit. If you looked closely at his stapled face, you can see worry in his eyes, and maybe even a little pout. He luckily found some medical supplies, no luck on the first aid.

He wouldn’t let you move, one single bit. He gently pushed you down every time you tried to lend him your help so he didn’t have to do all the work. “Lay your ass back down, Doll. I got it, it’s fine.”

When he put alcohol on your open wounds, he would whisper small praises, like how you’re doing good, but he would also scold you in the process of dressing your wounds. “I can’t believe you were so reckless. You should’ve just stayed out the way.”

Sure, it was mean, but you knew he was just caught up in the moment. He thought he had lost his Doll. Whenever he was done, he helped you stand up, he wouldn’t let you do anything on your own. Not even when you’re back at the LOV hideout. Whenever he saw you up, he totally freaked. “Sit your ass back down, woman.”

Is what he would say when making you sit down anywhere, the reason he was like this was because he hated seeing you so banged up and hurt, and he never wanted to see you like that again. Soon, when you were fully healed, he was back to his old self. <3

°˖➴ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ, ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴏᴘᴇɴ!! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[roninreverie]

Kamui Woods' tragic backstory that was made into a documentary

I've got side character brainrot, so watch me make it everyone else's problem. Help me come up with some more ideas, or let me know your favorite theory!

THEORY #1:

He is a tree who gained a Quirk and sentience

(Kind of like what happened with Principal Nezu)

Personally am not a fan of this theory because I feel like his name and ambitions would be a little different or people would mention it more as jokes/jabs/or from flat-out astonishment.

But I'm not ruling it out.

THEORY #2:

His home faced the tragedy, he just lived through it.

He is from Kagoshima Prefecture, so using the vague location as a clue:

He could be from Yakushima:

(AKA, the island inspiring the forest in Princess Mononoke - could tie into his name translation "God of the Woods")

Has a vast forest with some of the oldest trees around

See: Yaku-sugi (Jōmon-sugi).

Has a lot of hot springs (not relevant, just happy for him)

Native with rhododendron

(See costume: if flowers are supposed to be rhododendron and not roses).

He could be from the Mangrove Primeval Forest on Amami Island:

Amami has the Kanoya Rose Gardens

(See costume: belt attachment is made of roses)

2nd largest forest of mangroves in Japan

(Lot of trees, water, and kayaking)

* Both areas are near active volcanoes and subject to typhoons:

Is tragedy related to typhoons, floods, volcanoes, or another type of natural disaster?

See driftwood compatibility: If ships/ water are involved, his wood Quirk could've allowed him to float to safety for several days, being enough hope in the face of tragedy to spark the documentary.

THEORY 4:

Pirates/ boat-related tragedy, also includes being marooned, held hostage, and gives him a newfound sense of justice against villains.

Buuut I feel like he would have maybe joined a mariner-related field if his hero origins involved pirates.

THEORY #5:

Wood was harvested for harsh winters without consent like a sort of body-farm situation that was eventually liberated.

Like if he had bad parents or his whole family was a part of some sort of servitude angle?

He only started counting his birthday/ age recently, so there are a number of reasons why he never celebrated it?

(A little too dark for me, and may be a little influenced by the DNA chambers Yamato Tenzo grew up with in Naruto.)

THEORY #6:

Abandoned in the woods and grew up as a little feral nature child.

Also plays into the "just started counting my age" angle.

EDIT: from the prototype sketch rough translations, this kind of sounds like what happened, though I don't know if the tragedy ends there or with his adopted family.

THEORY #7:

Related to his appearance.

Shinji is very secretive of his appearance, mainly his mouth area that is constantly hidden by a mask or scarf. It's possible, he just likes his privacy, buuuut... theories anyway:

He could be made of wood all over, have branch/limb-like teeth that are unsettling to others, a nutcracker jaw, Ghibli Forest Spirit face, or have a nod to a skin condition like Epidermodysplasia that he was ridiculed for as a kid, so now keeps his face hidden?

That's all the theories I think I've got. Feel free to share more if you have ideas too!

[usernanami]

OKKOTSU YUTA in Jujutsu Kaisen 2.23 | 渋谷事変 閉門” • Shibuya Incident – Gate, Close

[biovyxart]

Ah yes. Me. My boyfriend. And his 4am zoomies.

[sattosugu]

boku no hero academia season 7 opening

[shoucolate]

the babe ☆

[ianime0]

Boku no Hero Academia || Hawks (Keigo Takami) Episode 139