#ravenbled

[huntershowl-moving]

@ravenbled liked x.

she knows whose footsteps cross the rooftop behind her, even before turning around. ❝ hey. sorry i bounced. just had to get some fresh air. ❞

[dynmghts]

it was an unsuspecting day. flare had been his tiny, floating saving grace for the entire fight; she heals him when harpies cut through his shields and injure his leg. she resurrects him when a minotaur catches him mid-dodge, hauling him up and blasting him point-blank with its torch hammer. she provides cover and a call for re-strategising when under direct fire by hobgoblins.

she watches him as he throws an explosive knife to a group of goblins, whirrs when he tosses his gunpowder gamble at others. she's triumphant when he scorches an entire wave with a barrage. katsuki grins smugly at her - was there any doubt he'd emerge victorious?

the sudden pain that courses through him is more painful than he could imagine. katsuki knows he rushed ahead, but now, suddenly, he can't feel the heat at the tips of his fingers; he can't feel the steady, radiant warmth flow through him in the standstill. he keels over in pain. red eyes then watch flare collapse from the air with a blip in her optic, shell pieces drooping as she falls, and he feels himself scramble across the floor to her.

the blond barely manages to tuck her close to his person before another minotaur seizes him - pushing him down, torch hammer aimed at his torso.

his hand cannon ruins the weapon. the minotaur seems to notice his desperation. katsuki tries to reach for the light with his hand to conjure a burning grenade to shove into its radiolarian core, but it- he conjures nothing.

lightless. flare is temporarily down, but even if she weren't- he was lightless.

katsuki loses his grip on hand cannon when the minotaur knocks it from his grasp. he grits his teeth together. this couldn't be the end. not here. not like this.

the thought in and of itself scares him.

@ravenbled / red war starter, just for you <3

[herostoried]

"Oh... umm, thank you!" Shota's response takes Ochako by surprise, and now she feels a bit bad for assuming that he would be worried. But it's a nice feeling as well, to be told that he thinks she's capable.

"It's fine! It's actually been quite peaceful. Just..." How does she put this? She trusts Aizawa, and she feels comfortable talking to him, but she always feels a little bad about taking up his time, especially with something she's talked with him about already.

"I was thinking about Sir Nighteye again. I feel like I should be over what happened, but... I don't know. I just suddenly felt really helpless again."

What's frustrating is that she doesn't know what brought it on. And it's not like she thinks she shouldn't be upset, per se - it wasn't that long ago that he died, after all. It's just that she thought she'd got over her doubts by now. Can she really call herself a hero when she keeps letting everything hold her back?

@ravenbled ( continued! )

[gravesung-moving]

" how terrible it is to love something that death can touch. "

❝ ... ❞ ORION'S BRUSH STILLS ON THE CANVAS. presses down a little too hard. it was halfway through an upward stroke completing a wisp of pale blue hair. he hasn't been able to stop working since oboro died; in each of their ways, he and his sibling deal with grief by letting overwork swallow them whole, and they have certainly been doing so lately.

he hasn't looked up at shouta once, because if he did everything would fall apart. ( not a problem he normally has with this particular boy. ) now, though, he actively casts his gaze away. ❝ yeah. ❞ there's a lump in his throat. he hates this. ❝ it fucking sucks. you said it better, though. ❞

water collects in the corners of obsidian sclerae, the white rings of light within darting to the window, to the empty desks under it. he blinks the water away. he can feel shouta's eyes on him; the tips of his ears go red, heat prickling the back of his neck under the scrutiny. ❝ i wish we were all immortal. like... vampires, or something. ❞

[rratedhero]

It was a rare moment where she felt comfortable enough to talk to the other about things like that. Her thoughts really never stayed within her, and most people took her as a joke, and yet she was always there for everyone else. Half the time she would rather to the other man in her life, and he would understand. But at the moment, this rare moment her eyes watched the dark-haired male.

The moment he leaned over and took her hands, she stiffened up, and was her face heating up? Weird. Midnight shook the thoughts away for a moment and looked at him. A soft smile on her face, she could see him at least trying. it was so strange, yet so comforting for once.

"Oh, trust me I know."

Watching him retract his hands, she let out a sigh, but it wasn't an annoyed one, but a relaxed one. Seeing how he was trying to help, was more than enough. the woman move to rest her head on her hand, and stared at him.

" trust me, it's the reason I would never bother you with such an annoying thought. Reasons why Hizashi gets all this tea, but he hasn't been around lately." there was a small laugh for a moment, and she shrugged. " There is not much anyone can do, I just need to stop trusting idiots. y'know. But I always tend to get fooled in the end. My fault really. Even I know all a thing men want is to get laid -- but here I thought I could have at least one meaningful relationship one day. But jokes on me." a shrug from her shoulders as she adjusted herself to lean back

"I just don't like making you uncomfortable when I talk about this kind of thing. Hence you get the talks about my last job, or something random that happens in the day. never about my personal life like that."

she laughed and smiled.

"But, thank you. If I could kiss you, you know I'll be over the table just to give you love for even listening to me."

from here. / @rratedhero.

he regards her in a steady gaze, neutral and not giving away any hint of internal emotion as he listened. shouta could see it all on her face, the thought process as nemuri cycled through the options she could take the conversation in, and the subsequent things he would say in return. it's moments before she finally gives and he witnesses the breakthrough he was looking for: the sound of a heavy sigh and the whine of her relenting and gathering her thoughts.

he feels compelled to, limbs moving on their own as he reaches out across the table and clasps her hands in his. shouta hopes the warmth conveys his care, his gratitude for her opening up to him. his friend's gaze pointedly stares elsewhere from his own intense survey, and to that he understands the hardest out of this all - a slight grimace plays on the edges of his mouth when she pulls back to close herself off again after admitting to that all.

he, again, understood. and he allowed himself to show that.

" listen, i've never dated around. i have no idea how to relate to that, but i can still sympathize. i'm sorry people, men, have been so shitty to you. " he brings his arms closer to himself again, squeezes the fist underneath one hand. " i understand hizashi would give better advice than i can on this, but that doesn't mean that i find this sort of talk ... annoying. or a waste of time. i want to help in any way i'm able to. "

[truly-quirkless]

PMD Personality Quiz.

Warning- it's sixty-four questions long!

The Brave Type! - You don't know the meaning of fear! You're not afraid to keep moving forward in the face of danger. You also have a strong sense of justice and can't turn a blind eye to someone in trouble. But you sometimes push your own personal sense of justice a little too hard. Be careful that you don't get too pushy! So, a brave type like you...

Yagi - Green || Fin - Blue

Tagged by: @deathonate Tagging: @chxrgebxltmeltdown, @crimsonskvader, @penandswords, @modeinthemiddle, @djsouled, @marcescenx, @uraviturgy (for any muse of your choice!), @instantcopycat, @nitronapalm, @mutherless (Izuku and Isamu!), @ravenbled, @sparkles0n, @refrxctedprism (both!), @emeraldtied, @dyadhogs (both), @multisuperfluity (Phineas?), @heroic-endeavors (whoever you wish!), @welcxmetxthechaxs (Odette), @heterochromatica, @the-extras (for whoever you want!)!

[eraserisms]

" put the FUCKING scissors away! "

@ravenbled is big mad and butthurt about my new do.

Shota was caught holding one of his locks taught with one hand and the other holding a pair or scissors. The 'V' of the blade was pinching his hair but hadn't fully closed.

He had paused in his motion, but only because Zaza had yelled. Being told what not to do, only made Sho want to do it more. The reverse psychology was strong with this one. The teacher's eyes locked with his doppelganger's, eyes boring into him, unblinking. With his gaze unrelenting, slowly, his thumb and index squeezed on the handles before the edges came together with a sharp snip!

"You're not my dad. Don't tell me what to do."

[huntershowl-moving]

" you're a much better liar than i expected you to be. "

❝ HEY — ❞ THAT EARNS SHOUTA A LITTLE SHOVE in the shoulder, but it's lighthearted, accompanied by an easy grin. ❝ fuck you. no faith in your friends, huh? ❞

it's a fair point, though — normally, when confronted with the need to lie, seph much prefers to skirt around and omit. maybe change the subject. exactly what she's doing now, an attempt to channel orion's easy misdirection. but when cornered and asked a direct question, there is not much one can do to wiggle out of it.

the truth is that, yes, she has been absent a lot. making up missed classes and training has been rough, and it's been taking a toll. orion has done his best to cover for them — but he has his own secrets to protect, and his own school life to focus on. it's not something she should be asking of him.

they rub at an eye, dark from sleeplessness, a knot furrowing between their brows. even as they smile. ❝ look, shou, it's not a big deal. it's just — ❞ but they can't even think of a fake reason to attempt at. what the hell would keep a high schooler out of school for several days out of every month? she thumbs at the piece of clear film over the barbed-wire tattoo, two new notches added since last they saw each other. it's nearly up to the elbow now. ten barbs.

❝ ... ❞ it's just. it's just. if he were anyone else, she would have punched them for pressing. instead, they shift their weight back and forth, look away, clench and unclench the tattoo-arm's restless hand. ❝ can we — take a walk? ❞

[dynmghts]

" wake up. " a water bottle's tossed katsuki's way and lands promptly on his stomach, aizawa moving to open the blinds to let light bathe the flat. " or you're gonna miss the next round. " ( DESTINY VERSE HEEHEE )

the best part of having a mentor: having someone to teach you how you're meant to be a guardian. from the moment you first come back from the dead, right up until your first rez in the middle of a firefight - everything between your best choice in arsenal to understanding the stupid fucking mechanics and bullshittery the traveler's enemies want to throw your way.

the worst part: being woken up abruptly from well-earned naps.

flare hovers near without a single ounce of remorse as the blond's pulled from his rest, groaning. light bleeds through the curtains and drag its warmth across katsuki's face with the dawn. when the beam reaches crimson glare, though, he squints and shields himself with a gloved hand, snarl ever the more evident.

the only solace he gets is the familiarity of warmth on his fingers, in his palm. the subtle humming of energy from the universe - even though nothing but the sun has called upon the light. ❛ give a guy some more fuckin' warning. ❜

his ghost, the conniving little spark she is, floats harmlessly around him and rattles on about getting his daily practice in - or the daily dishing out of punishment on unsuspecting kinderguardians, which she reminds is his words. her shell buzzes and rotates with a quick whir; her optic flickers with the shell closing around it, the blazing inferno around its creases dimming and brightening in tandem. she seems to have taken said mentor's side on this.

❛ fuckin' traitor, ❜ he hisses, teeth bared as he pushes himself off the couch.

and without skipping a beat, she chimes, ❛ you wouldn't forgive me if you missed out on the offers lord shaxx and saint-14 have lined up this week. ❜

his brows furrow. he looks to her, watching her shell beam with enthusiasm that matches her voice, then over to aizawa with a brow raised. did he miss something? was there something worth trying to get with whatever shitty luck he has whenever he's getting winning packages from the two titans? enough to get flare trying to coax him into some rounds of crucible and trials when he could be doing something like hunting that perfect sidearm?

... he shouldn't be complaining. despite the rude awakening, he does like kicking the asses of some poor, unsuspecting idiots on the other team.

❛ fine, ❜ he pulls himself up and reaches for his helmet, rolling his shoulders with an unbridled enthusiasm. ❛ let's go, old man. like you said: don't wanna go missing the next round. ❜

@ravenbled / unprompted. <3

[herostoried]

"Aizawa-sensei..."

Ochako seems surprised to have noticed him, though she thinks after a moment that he is a Pro Hero - it shouldn't shock her that he's able to sneak around so effortlessly. ...Not that he was likely trying to sneak. After all, Ochako was so caught up in her own thoughts that she probably wouldn't have noticed anyone approaching her until they said something...

Honestly, she's meant to be a hero-in-training. Shouldn't she have more awareness than this? But from the look on his face... it seems he definitely caught her forlorn expression.

"Ahaha, I'm sorry! You don't need to worry. It's just me being silly, so..."

@ravenbled ( starter! )

[dryeyed]

𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲

#DRYEYED. hey, welcome welcome. i'm asterys ( rys ), and welcome to my private blog for aizawa shouta. canon divergent. 21+ only. read my rules.

on a permanent hiatus, activity based on periodic revival.

I. crossover and au friendly, this blog features a destiny and dnd verse. unaffiliated with the bnha fandom. II. low/sporadic activity permanently. if you follow i do expect the interest checker to be filled out please. i will also do the same should one be present on your end. III. he is canon divergent. some details and relationships are likely to be affected by the different choices my shouta will have made throughout his life. heads up for more mature themes following the lines of addiction, substance use, mental health struggles, grief + trauma, etc. more here.

dossier / playlist / headcanons / interest checker.

[huntershowl-moving]

and if she notices, if she decided to slide a hand within her left pocket, she'd notice there was a note already slipped in between fabric. it wasn't there before, certainly not before she'd met with shouta just moments prior. and if she'd go to read it, she'd read the simple handwriting and know it as his: " i will always wonder if i could have saved you. "

PERSEPHONE IS ALREADY SHAKEN FROM a confrontation that shouldn't have happened by the time they arrive at the broken, abandoned apartment building they will call home tonight. no one lives here; the building was partly demolished by a hero fight some time back, most of the apartments were evacuated, and the unseen bought the place before it could be taken in by the city and rebuilt. like an increasing number of apartment buildings throughout japan's prefectures and cities, it now serves as a home for rats — and the occasional shelter for a hound.

she takes the stairs two at a time. already, the world has begun to shrink around her, every footfall harder to pick back up. when she arrives at her unit on the top floor, she flings open the door, slams it, bolts it, barricades it. sinks to the floor against the wall adjacent.

it's only in that motion, that bend, that she hears a strange sort of crinkling from one of her pockets. wasn't there before. wrong. amiss. and that jolt of ice-cold fear only worsens when they pull from it a note.

many of their nightmares begin this way: an envelope slid under the door of a unit no one should know she stays in. upon opening, a letter written in a scrawling hand that makes her nauseous to look at; a small, bird-shaped pair of scissors; a single pressed flower. a taunt. it marks the beginning of a hunt, one in which hellhound is not the predator.

it takes her ages to gather the courage to read it. her mind splits under the pressure of this moment, and under the strain of the last; she can still pick up the faint echoes of shouta's scents and — fuck. to hell with it. they force their fingers to move, opening the folded piece of notebook paper under threat of their heart escaping their fucking chest. if it is what they fear it is, then so be it. it was always going to happen eventually, so why not right after opening an old wound? why the hell not? if the confrontation is to happen now, persephone is prepared. she has spent three years sharpening her teeth.

it is a familiar scrawl, but not the one that she dreads. not the one that starts the timer. it is short — one sentence, a period, in handwriting they instantly recognize as shouta's. shouta's. their first friend, perhaps their truest — when did he slip them this? how did he get so close, how did they not notice?

i will always wonder if i could have saved you.

images flash across their mind: persephone at twelve years old, holding a gun. ( she had taken six lives by then. ) persephone in high school, sitting on shouta's desk and laughing, kicking at hizashi with a gangly boot-clad leg. ( twenty-one lives. ) persephone, her arms torn away, nineteen and numb from crying out please. persephone at a vanity table swathed in white, pressing ice to cracked ribs, a fresh flood of tears sticking the veil to her face as a hand threads through her hair. persephone holding their hand to a cut throat; persephone curled up on the floor of a burning house. persephone, twenty-five and a revenant.

she has died so many times. shouta never had a chance.

something strangled, like a sob, wracks their body as they clutch the note close to their chest, curl in on themself, as if trying to become so small they disappear. he doesn't know; he can't know, and it must be killing him. but learning what happened to her comes with the price of the learner's life, if they're lucky. there was never a happy ending in store for persephone; she was doomed from the start. but if they do one good thing in this dogshit excuse for a life, it will be to spare their loved ones the same fate. ( even if it causes them pain. )

she gasps in a breath, tries to exhale, but it stutters out as another sob — and only then, in the fury and pain of it all, do they scream. the sound rattles the apartment's dirt-crusted windows. it reverberates through the space around her, as violent and anguished as the hound's howl heard throughout the neighborhood on the night of a kill. but it does nothing. no one reacts, because no one is there.

[huntershowl-moving]

@ravenbled liked for a lethe starter.

I KNOW YOU. THE WORDS DO NOT leave her mouth, but they break through the fog in a way very few things do, over the past year or so. the veil shifts over her face; her head turns, veil-covered eyes following a face through the soiree crowd with pinpoint accuracy.

he disappears around the corner, into one of the mostly-unoccupied side rooms of this rented-out estate. they are technically open to all attendees. technically because they are rather antithetical to the spirit of an event such as this: an opportunity to network and talk business under the guise of charity. these are the rooms lethe escapes to more often than not when she needs a breath of fresh air, away from her fiancée and away from the muzzle of their dialogue script.

adeo is saying something, lethe realizes belatedly; her hazy vision lingers on that doorway for a moment before she turns back toward him. a gentle squeeze where his hand rests on her side, a little wink thrown in her direction. "don't wander too far." go. i can see you're distracted.

lethe gives his conversation partner a silent, gracious bow of the head in parting before she drifts into the crowd, a wraith in white among multicolor bodies. her heels click softly on the ballroom floor, then on polished hardwood as she ducks into the side room shouta aizawa disappeared into. she has to make sure her suspicions were correct — and being away from adeo's side is enough of a bonus that it doesn't particularly matter if she was wrong.

it's a book lounge tucked away from the great-hall space every other guest presses hungrily into. armchairs, a coffee table, a crackling fireplace, bookshelves stacked with leather-bound volumes. lethe rests a white-gloved hand on the back of an armchair, warily looking over at him through a gauzy lace veil. ❝ do you mind if i join you? ❞ a gentle voice, lilting and demure. ❝ it's a bit loud in there. ❞

[huntershowl-moving]

" we come scorched by ire and affliction. "

blue eye samurai starters. ACCEPTING

❝ WE DO, ALL OF US. SOME people are just better at hiding it. ❞ the woman's words are bitter, all of the rage-fire within them extinguished, as she stands beside aizawa and looks out at the shining city below. somewhere, their old streets. somewhere, a hero and a villain locking horns in combat.

but persephone is tired. she's tired of fighting her friends, and escaping them, and god, they would kill for just a moment away from it all.

this is the first time they have stood together without exchanging blows. perhaps it's because there are no eyes on them, or perhaps because he's tired, too. but — despite. despite despite despite, for one stolen moment, persephone lets hellhound go.

❝ i used to think it was uncommon for people to have nasty intentions underneath their smiles. thought — people, at their core, were good, even when faced with a better reward for betraying their friends. now i know better. ❞ a prosthetic hand flexes, inner mechanisms clicking and whirring gently in the windless silence.

[huntershowl-moving]

my 2 aizawas ( @eraserisms & @ravenbled ) said:

ERASERISMS — 🌟 ― i love how you portray your muse(s) 🎀 ― i love your aesthetic / graphics 💯 ― your headcanon posts are always on point ✨ ― i love the way you write 💫 ― i enjoy writing with you 😊 ― i enjoy talking to you 💖 ― you seem like a genuinely nice person ☀️ ― your posts always bring me joy ❤️ ― you're one of my favorite blogs 🌺 ― simply admiring you from afar ( Nah, I be admiring you straight to your face, bro)

RAVENBLED — can i send all the hearts pls you get them all 🌟🎀💯✨💫😊💖☀️❤️🌺 💜extra purple one for 'really amazing art'

THANK U BOTH SO MUCH i would commit crimes for u. both of u. rys right The Fuck back at u re: amazing art hello???? and DA!!! POINTS AT YOU!!!! I ADMIRE U RIGHT BACK

[huntershowl-moving]

i’m calling out @ravenbled for making me tear up at work with an ask from shou. rys im gonna fuckin GET YOU