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#feel free to suggest arc names if you have any
wc-wild-rewrite · 6 months
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whats arc 4.5?
excellent question, 4.5 is the arc i've created to add some flavour between the end of arc 4 and beginning of arc 5.
Coming directly off the back of Arc 4, arc 4.5 is an arc of desperation, jealousy, and learning. The first book follows Jayfeather and Hollyleaf as they guide the clans back through the forest territories to reach brand new ones far away from the ones they know. The rest of the arc follows Flamespring, Birchsong, and Clayfern, the final litter of Firestar and Sandstorm, as sibling jealousy and favouritism turns into a murder spree and execution, ending with acknowledgement that making lineage and parentage so important isn't always a good thing, and often goes badly.
Oh, and Starclan's gone. I'm not waiting two arcs to get rid of them, they've already disappeared by 4.5.
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shibaraki · 11 months
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THE KIDS ARE GONNA BE ALRIGHT ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA
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synopsis: teachers are like bridges, there to facilitate students on their ungainly journey through life. add a war, a new subject, a gaggle of traumatised children and a handsome coworker with an apparent sleeping disorder — see where the bridge leads.
tags: GN reader (called 'Sensei'), coworkers to lovers, reader is a UA teacher (quirk science), single parent aizawa (adopted eri), some workplace shenanigans, meddling kids (class 2A + B), mutual pining, fluff + angst, learning difficulties, mental health (alluded PTSD), getting together, post war arc (heavily implied spoilers ahead), first kisses + making out, suggestive content + heavy themes, HAPPY + HOPEFUL END
wc: 19K
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: Welcome to UA! Message:  Good morning!  It is my pleasure to welcome you to UA — we are very excited to have you aboard! The files attached to this email are as follows:  
A map of the campus
The UA handbook and Emergency guideline
The Teachers Code of Conduct 
Please refer back to these regularly to familiarise yourself with everything. As we discussed in our prior phone call a place has been prepared in the teachers dormitory in preparation for your move. Your key and security badge are at the reception desk. Please bring identification to collect them. Do let me know if you require a reserved spot in the parking area. 
One last thing to note: 
The staff lounge and kitchen is located in the west wing of the first floor heroics building. It is regularly restocked with snacks and beverages. The coffee machine is also available to you at any time. Feel free to help yourself!
If you have any further questions you can email me or call me. I will get back to you as soon as possible. 
Kind regards,
Nedzu Principal of UA High School  〒123-4567 Ōikuyō, Shizuoka, Musutafu.  Go Beyond, Plus Ultra!
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Your new world is bordered by a large imposing wall. 
It towers above your head, reinforced concrete and steel reaching for the heavens, housing weapons you could only imagine. Gone is the classic archway that once welcomed students with open arms. The public walkway leading uphill to the school is cordoned off. 
Even alongside global assistance progress was slow. A large chunk of Musutafu had remained levelled— debris and dust, unrecognisable. After the battle ended, rebuilding the country came first. Hospitals and emergency services were given priority; more shelters followed close behind, and once given the go ahead, individuals confined to UA were able to slowly integrate back into their own communities. 
One step at a time. Life stops for nothing, that is clearer than ever. 
You qualified as a quirk specialist, mainly working with college students, teaching science, history and philosophy of quirks. Principal Nedzu was an old acquaintance. You crossed paths at a conference or two, and you saw his name in citations of papers you read from time to time, but it never grew beyond professional respect. Thus, having him reach out to you through your private number had come as a big surprise. 
After the war a number of the current student’s quirks had evolved at an unprecedented rate, largely due to the trauma and strain they endured. He expressed his wish to include quirk study in the new curriculum and reasoned that having someone with your credentials on staff would not only ease the anxiety of the teenagers, but also that of the remaining teachers, who were inexperienced in dealing with stress manifestation. 
The call ended an hour later with a sixty three page contract in your inbox and a new job. You covered a broad range of subjects but your field of study was an elective, therefore smaller than you are used to. Even so it was your territory now. You tried to own it. The desks have been rearranged into a U shape, charts with interactive pieces affixed to the surface, and you decorated the space with Nedzu’s express permission in hopes of making it inviting. 
Over a month into the term and you can’t yet say you regret taking up his offer.
“Phyletic gradualism and punctuated equilibrium are the two extremes in a continuous model of evolution. The first kind is a far more uniform and gradual accumulation of changes that subsequently generate new species…”
Your mouth keeps moving as you scan the classroom for the fifth time, words muffled by the brief loss of focus. The students don’t notice the lapse; most eyes are still on you, some clouded and others intent on listening. It’s a true miracle that nobody has fallen asleep—though Kaminari is always a close call. Beneath it all is the soft, frantic scratch of Midoriya’s pen to paper and his low mutter, holding the attention of a bone weary Bakugo. 
“…Comparatively, punctuated equilibrium proposes that once a species appears, it becomes stable, showing little evolutionary change until an event triggers a rapid speciation process”.
Yaoyorozu’s hand flies up and startles Shinsou to attention. Her enthusiasm brings a slight smile to your lips. You point to her, “Yes, Yaoyorozu?”
“In that case, Sensei, would that mean that quirks are an example of punctuated equilibrium?” she asks. 
“That is the most agreed upon theory amongst the quirk science community,” you reply, directing the answer toward the entire class. There’s a scarce mix of Class A, B, and support students. Monoma straightens under your gaze. He’s flanked by Kouda, who returns a mousy smile, fingers idly petting Yuwai-chan, his pet rabbit. 
“Quirks are our reality—that much is undeniable. But with that comes a myriad of unknowns. How, why, and when did this happen to us?” Striding toward the board you uncap a blue marker with your teeth and write the phrase ‘theories’ down in large, neat penmanship. You cast a passing glance to the clock. Any minute now. 
“There is still no definitive answer. So for your next assignment I’m going to ask that you research and write an essay on a specific theory about the dawn of quirks,” you are helpless to the wicked grin that pulls across your mouth at their collective groan. “It’s due next Friday. That’s ten whole days to complete it! So generous, aren't I?” 
Overhead, a bell blares out an incessant ring to indicate the lessons end, and in a moment of synchronicity each student rouses from their chair. Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets and makes a beeline for the door and ignores Midoriya’s aborted squawk as he shoves his notes into his backpack. 
“Thank you Sensei,” he stammers, rushing after the boy. “Wait for me, Kacchan!” 
Nobody calls attention to the seemingly tumultuous relationship. The 2A kids in particular watch their interactions with a trepid fondness. They’re always like that—or so Shinsou told you, once, barely audible over Bakugo’s incendiary growls as he hauled his childhood friend into a headlock. You understood it a little when you heard Midoriya’s bubbly laughter for the first time. And you let them be. 
The others file out slowly, lost in conversation or waiting on a friend. Iida stops at your desk and bows before leaving, bidding you an effusive goodbye, a habit he has steadfastly maintained no matter how much you assure him otherwise. In stark contrast the two subdued support students, Toma and Nakao, throw a simple salute with startling synchrony.
Just when you think you have some peace, a shadow crosses your peripheral vision. “Yo, Sensei,” Kaminari chirped. There’s an edge to his voice that draws your attention. Shinsou lingers nearby feigning disinterest as Kaminari fidgets with his blazer button. “About the—uh. About the essay…”
Blinking away your initial confusion you sit up in realisation. “Oh! That’s right,” Kaminari tenses as you lean across the desk, flicking through your copious bits of stationery. You peel off a cloud shaped sticky note and write down a date and time before handing it to the boy. 
“I scheduled a one to one so we can go over everything you’ve done before the deadline,” you explain gently. Kaminari takes the note between his fingers, grip delicate either end as though afraid it might tear. “Don’t worry if you lose that. I’m going to send the details to your student email, and I’ll remind you again on the day. That sound good?”
Had you been any younger your eyes might’ve stung at the clear wonder unfolding on his face; surprised and happy to be accommodated without interrogation. Now there is only a dull ache beneath your skull and resentment in your heart. His reaction spoke to the copious rejection he faced before UA. 
You’ve come to learn that children are only ever as brilliant as you allow them to be. 
“Y—yeah. That’s amazing, thanks Sensei,” Kaminari steadily brightens. His fist hits his chest with a quiet thump, “I won’t let’cha down!” 
“I’m sure you won’t. And please don’t forget to bring your overlays,” you call to them as they amble out into the hallway. Shinsou holds the door, nodding shortly in acknowledgement. The savoury smell of curry has already distracted Kaminari enough to have him forget your discussion. 
You sigh, hearing their laughter grow quiet in the distance. Another muted pang echoes through your skull. Expression contorted, you wince and gather your things, thoughts latched onto the lacquered bento box that awaits in the teachers lounge to distract from the pain. 
The once stream of bustling students becomes a mere trickle, stragglers hanging by the bathrooms, others cross legged in front of their lockers, grouped tightly together without causing obstruction. They appear wilted. An overarching air of despondency; grey against the brightly painted corridor. 
The muscles in your face twinge. You resolve to greet them all, offering a smile as sincere as you can muster despite the heaviness in your heart. For many of these kids, if not all, life would never be the same. So young, grappling with such unprecedented loss. 
You come to a halt. Lofty double doors loom. Your fingers curl into the recessed handle and you slide them open. Though the walls are bare, the windows are large, and into the staff lounge beams intrepid light. 
You’re met with a chorus of sluggish murmurs, few heads lifting to see who has entered. Of the faces present there are two you’re most familiar with—class 2A’s heroics mentor and their homeroom teacher. 
Yagi is hunched at his computer desk. A cardigan too large for his frame is draped across his shoulders and pools around his wrists. Cradled in one hand is a thermos covered in stickers. Steam pours from the open top, wispy tendrils curling into the air. You inhale and recognise the weak scent of bone broth. 
Those sunken eyes flicker as you approach, striking blue roving over your form. Whatever he sees must be cause for concern. “Are you feeling unwell?”
You had felt an immediate fondness for Toshinori Yagi when you first met him. The presence of All Might hung tangibly in the air, a stifling ode to his service that still unnerved those who did not know him, but you were different. Like his colleagues, you looked back and saw a well meaning, sweet but bumbling older man. 
“No, no,” you demurred. “It’s just a headache”. 
Yagi grimaces sympathetically, furrow etched into his brow. Hips slumped low on the staff sofa, garish yellow sleeping bag at his feet, Aizawa hums a low amused sound that draws your attention. You’re surprised he’s awake. “My kids will do that to you,” he murmurs. 
The Erasure hero’s head is tipped to bare his throat, jawline shadowed by stubble. Dark curtains of hair fall across his shoulders. Aizawa is handsome. This you cannot deny. Before you met you’d heard him described as quite the opposite. Yet here you are, magnetised to him; to his callous humour, and the rough, rare instances of laughter; to the sturdy body hidden beneath baggy clothing and the deep, blasé manner in which he speaks. 
You swallow the sight thickly and pinch the bridge of your nose with a self deprecating laugh. It’s just a silly crush. “Nothing like that,” you assure him. The chair creaks slightly beneath your thighs as you recline. “I don’t think I slept well last night”. 
Admitting it invites a sudden wave of fatigue. Aizawa is no stranger to exhaustion. You think he could probably sleep anywhere—hell, you’ve seen him sleep standing up. He regards you thoughtfully, and the longer he stares the warmer your collar becomes. You feel his scrutiny even as you avert your eyes. 
Incognisant to the tension, Yagi continues to fret. “Ah, that’s no good. Let me make you some coffee,” he insists, brushing off his pants as he stands. Yagi sheds the feeble slope from his shoulders and you blink at the burst of energy. 
“Alright. Thank you, Yagi-san,” you reply, voice dwindling as he ducks into the modest kitchen connected to the lounge. Aizawa clicks his tongue. 
“You’ll regret that,” he breathes, ensuring the other man would not hear. “Unless you’re a fan of drinking tar”. 
“Don’t be mean. I’m sure it’s not that bad,” your trembling lips press firmly together, not wanting to to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh. He exhales and shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your funeral’. 
Yagi soon returns holding a cup of coffee and your bento box. “Here. I thought you might want to eat,” he gives a signature toothy grin. You say nothing of the shake in his hands as he sets them down on your desk and bring the hot drink to your mouth. 
The coffee is awful. You hold your breath and smother the urge to cough, swallowing it down with feigned enthusiasm. The astringent taste lingers. A shudder runs throughout your body and you inhale sharply. “That—will definitely wake me up. Thank you, Yagi-san,” you rasp, trying to smile. Yagi looks rather pleased and gives a thumbs up. 
Next you look, Aizawa has shucked the sleeping bag up to his midsection and burrowed into his capture weapon, leaving only bloodshot eyes visible above the fabric. They’re crinkled at the edges and full of mirth—you interlock and he lifts his chin to mouth, “Told you”. 
That shouldn’t be so attractive, you think.
On the next mouthful of your rice you subtly uncurl your middle finger from beneath your chopsticks and pointedly flip it at Aizawa. He snorts, amused. 
“Gesundheit,” Yagi chimed between sips, enjoying the warm broth in his thermos flask. From what you understood he had to follow a strict liquid only diet. He could hardly stomach solids anymore. “Are you getting sick too, Aizawa-kun?” 
Aizawa sighs at the obliviousness, though you think he’s a little glad for it. 
The conversation tapers and the lunch hour crawls on. Your mind drifts to the students as you idly chew, grains ground to mush, vision blurring out of focus. Thankfully it appeared to be one of their better days. Shinsou remained awake for the entire period. Yaoyarozu participated confidently. The shadows under Bakugo’s eyes hadn’t been as severe. Iida’s legs had not restlessly bounced under the table. Midoriya kept his hands to himself and felt no need to feel for his friend's heartbeat. 
However one of your more boisterous spirits, Monoma, had been noticeably withdrawn. Kouda’s rabbit—trained to detect and assist with anxiety—scrambled into his arms on numerous occasions. 
Your skin prickles, alerted to the weight of someone’s gaze on your back. Not a second later you hear the low call of your name. Aizawa slips into the chair opposite, disconcertingly silent in his approach, and leans his chin against his fist. 
“If you keep thinking so hard, All Might really is going to give himself a hernia,” he mutters. 
Yagi’s lighthearted chuckle devolves into a harsh spluttering cough. “Blunt as always, Aizawa-kun,” he jokes, voice muffled by his hand. 
“I’m not sure he could even get a hernia…” you muse, offering him a tissue. Yagi nods in thanks as he wipes the blood from his mouth. “I was thinking about the kids, that's all”. 
Aizawa tilts his head. The sun settles at her highest point and golden pleats stretch across his face. These are the rare instances that his artificial eye becomes observable. Light refracts in the iris, glittering crimson through graphene layers. 
“They’ve really taken a shine to you,” he says, and it comes like an accusation, softened by the slight jut to his lips. You smirk, shutting your bento box and setting it aside. How wonderfully petty. 
“Curious?” 
“Midoriya burst into class last week and asked Tokoyami if he had a twin that he ate in the womb,” he drawls, brow twitching. Yagi splutters. “So yes, I’m curious what it is you’re teaching my students”. 
A fleeting sense of exasperation comes over you. Trust Midoriya to abandon delicacy in his eagerness. “I assume it’s because we covered the genetics of chimerism and how it relates to quirk inheritance,” you say, bemused. Hopefully Tokoyami was not offended. It’s a wonder he didn’t ask Todoroki.
“And how does it?” Yagi blink owlishly as you turn to him in surprise. “I’m curious!” he defends. 
“Oh. Well, genetic chimerism is when an organism has multiple sets of DNA often originating from the fusion of different zygotes,” you recite. Instinctively, your posture straightens as though you were back in the classroom. “This can happen with twin embryos. One absorbs the other and as a result, they have two sets of DNA”. 
“O—oh…?”
“So,” you continue, fingers wrung together in your lap, turning to give him your full attention. Colour drains from the retired hero’s cheeks. “The question I presented was this: would it then be possible for the surviving twin to inherit an additional quirk?”
“I see,” Yagi swallows and his grin strains at the edges as he realises you are waiting for a genuine answer. “Ah, I’m not—”
The lunch bell abruptly begins to ring. You both startle in your seats. Unperturbed, Aizawa pushes to his feet. His hair falls forward as he sways in place and meets your gaze. “As interesting as this is, we need to get to gym gamma for basic heroics,” he says, tone laced with monotony. 
Yagi jumps at the chance to escape. You try not to laugh. He continues to nervously glance over his shoulder, worried that you might be disheartened, but you wave them off happily. 
Coworkers come and go throughout the afternoon. Kurose keeps you company during their free period, later joined by Yamada, who insisted on quizzing you about western rock music. With no classes left to teach you spend the remainder of your day planning quirk counselling sessions, printing worksheets and sending routine emails, headache persisting. 
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: Reminder [High importance] Message: 
Good afternoon,
Please see the two files I have attached to this email. One has a highlighted version of the essay brief, and another detailing how to structure an essay. 
As I mentioned, I have booked a one to one session for us to go over your draft and any concerns next week on [x] September 13:00 — 14:00. However do not hesitate to email me with any questions you have before this date. 
Take care!
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After the final bell rings you linger a while, not wanting to be swept away in throngs of students making their way to the dorms. There are no stragglers as you leave and your footsteps reverberate unsettlingly throughout the main building. 
The sky bleeds into early dusk with disquieting rays of light. Gentle enough that you can look directly into the sun and see the canvas it paints. Standing in the middle of the walkway, balefully watching the far off horizon, the early autumn air makes you shiver. 
Living on campus was a big change. Even so you had little to complain about. The staff dormitories are larger and much more private. You’d been given a studio on the second floor, neighbour to Ishiyama, the rather withdrawn cement hero. While there is a bathroom and kitchenette in each apartment you usually preferred to cook in the shared kitchen, conjoined to an open plan common room. 
Another familiar face greets you as you enter. Powerloader is seated at the dining table, mulling over a mess of blueprints. Quirk science and quirk support often went hand in hand thus you had collaborated before, albeit very rarely. 
He lifts his head at your entrance, face obscured by long, spiked copper hair. Seeing him free of his big excavator helmet—much like with Kurose without their space suit—is still quite strange. “Hey, Maijima-san,” you skim over what looks to be a box buckle belt. “Working on anything interesting?”
“I’m designing an MMF induction system for Tetsutetsu in 2B,” he explained, sifting through the papers to show another preliminary sketch. You notice the ink stain on the heel of his hand. “I’m hoping with the belt and armbands acting as coils we could turn him into an electromagnet of sorts”. 
“Wow. That’s actually pretty cool. There are so many things he could do with that,” you mumbled. Flash bangs. Emergency power. Assisting in triage. The possibilities were endless. Awed, you lean forward to scrutinise the chicken scrawl dotted around the drawings, some characters smudged beyond your comprehension. “How do you plan to measure his tolerance to—?”
“Mochi?!” a small, giddy voice interrupts. 
“…Mochi?” you repeat, bewildered. You look toward the source, gaze falling upon two silvery pigtails. Eri rocks on her heels and excitedly holds out a curved plate full of rice cakes. The height draws her sweater sleeves down her thin, scarred forearms. She makes a droning noise to stress that you take one. 
Aizawa strolls out from the kitchen behind her. A dull clink accompanies his footsteps, slanted to one side. You immediately note the various colourful clips pinning his hair away from his face, tied into a similar pigtail style, though tousled and loose.
“Eri,” he rumbles. “It’s impolite to interrupt private conversations”. 
The little girl wilts a fraction as her expression pinches in worry. She lowers the plate, but before it is out of reach, Maijima stretches across the table to snatch one up. Eri brightens at the exaggerated happy sound he makes as he chews, “This is some good mochi, Eri-chan. I’ll forgive you this once”. 
“Thank you, Maijiji,” she chimes. At that Maijima’s jaw unhinges mid-chew, the corners of his mouth twitching in quiet shock. Aizawa’s nostrils flare. He turns his head from the scene. Similarly, you tuck your chin to conceal your smirk and pluck up a mochi for yourself. 
“These look delicious,” you tell her, diverting the topic from Maijima—who, in your periphery, is mouthing ‘old man?!’ toward Aizawa with some incredulity. Eri’s focus remains on your face. She watches intently as the sticky dough yields under your thumbs. 
You tear a piece away to eat. Softer, smoother on the inside. It begins to melt on your tongue. The red bean paste is sweet with earthy undertones. “Wow!” the exclamation comes warbled, muffled. Eri tugs at the hem of her pink knit sweater, her smile stretching wider. “You’re very kind for sharing these, Eri”. 
“Mhm. S’because Yama-san teached me a quote in English today,” she effuses proudly, “He said sharing is caring”. The foreign enunciation doesn’t quite fit, like the words are choppy in her mouth, but they fall easily from her lips as if she has practised them a hundred times.
“Taught,” Aizawa corrected, bending into view to take the plate from her hands and set it on the table. She blinks at him curiously, and he explains, “You should say ‘Yama-san taught me’, not teached”. 
“Oh,” she says. You watch fondly as he licks his thumb to wipe away a smear of bean paste on her chin. Her face scrunches up, lips pursed and air in her cheeks. 
“And now you’ve been taught a new word,” you add, pulling off a bigger piece of mochi. Eri bounces in place as you offer it to her and she shoves it into her mouth. “Thank you for the treat, Eri. I think I’ll enjoy this in my room”. 
“Ywor lea’win’?” 
Aizawa sighs and concedes defeat to her poor manners. He cradles the crown of her head with his palm, stroking her hair. “I’m a little tired so I really want to take a shower and get in my pyjamas,” you say, hoping to placate her with a smile. “But I’m sure I’ll see you again sometime tomorrow, okay?”
Eri concedes rather reluctantly. Her fondness for you, once a stranger from the yawning unknown, is warming. Though her dejection is short-lived, soon distracted by the late arrival of Yagi and Yamada. 
The soft hair on your neck prickles. Sensing his stare you meet Aizawa’s gaze, heavy enough to feel like touch. It stirs a fleeting sort of hope in your chest. He looks gentle, frame wrapped up in the gauzy evening lustre. You clear your throat, “Did heroics go well in the end?” 
His brow twitches and you get the distinct feeling that you’re being laughed at. “No broken bones. So I would say so,” he deadpanned. 
“If it were anyone else saying that I’d be concerned,” you smiled, knowing class 2A in particular was well renowned for incurring injuries in training. “It was their first one since… everything, right? I’m glad they’re doing okay”. 
He hums, eyes sliding toward his daughter when her laughter breaks the delicate quiet. You shift awkwardly where you stand, overly conscious of Maijima seated nearby, now engrossed in his work. Aizawa levelled his voice, “How’s the headache?” 
“Persistent,” you murmur. Acknowledging it invites another dull pang inside your skull. “Honestly I can’t wait to get in bed”. 
“Hear hear,” he breathes. The corner of his mouth curls as he looks at you and gravity vaults around your stomach, rendering you momentarily weightless. Just a crush, you think, half hysterical. “Get some rest. If you plan on missing dinner then take a jelly pouch or an energy bar with you”. 
Touched by his concern you sway toward the kitchen. Your teeth sink into your cheek, biting down a grin where he cannot see it. “Yeah, okay,” you laugh under your breath. Louder then, “But I’m going to take your favourite flavour”. 
“Don’t push your luck,” he dared. 
You retire to your apartment with a green jelly packet in hand and a clunky wave. Energy seeps out of you like water through a sieve as soon as your door shuts. Fatigue creeps in; the body needing rest yet the mind restless. 
The shower does little to shake you awake. Dragging your feet to your bedroom, pouch uncapped and held between your lips. Tepid air sticks to still damp skin. Your bed yields, thoughts slowing. You crawl across the mattress, cheeks hollow as you lazily suck the jelly until the foil wrinkles. 
Cocooned in plush fleece and linen, you tilt your head and let it loll against the pillow; exhaustion sweeps through you, consciousness waning. The ache behind your eyes lessens as they close. You sleep. 
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: RE: Reminder [High importance] Message: 
Hi hi
The worksheets really helped!!! You’re the best, Sensei!
I was talking to Mido and he said some ppl think quirks are a genetic mutation from a disease spread by rats?? ? (◎-◎;) super freaky. Can I make that my essay topic? 
Thnx!
Kaminari Denki AKA ⚡️ CHARGEBOLT
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected] Subject: An analysis of the Q-gene theory Message:
Sorry to email so late! Or early haha… I found some articles while I was researching that I think will be helpful to my essay but the journal is not open access. Is there any way that I cannnnnnnnvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvccccccccccccccvvvvvvccccccccccccccccvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Sent from my ePhone 
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Morning comes abruptly. The sound of your alarm cuts out as you stretch across the bed to hit snooze, limbless and heavy handed. You rise with a crick in your neck. Barely cognisant, the floor rises to meet you, cool against the soles of your feet. 
A mottle of pale blue and white blended into a grey low lit morning, flooding the common area. It’s no surprise to you that people are already awake. Snipe is seated on the couch meticulously cleaning his pistol while Kurose is clad in their gym wear, jogging in place where they wait for Yagi to zip up his jacket. 
Upright, he beams at the sight of you, “Good morning! You look much better today”. 
You do not feel much better. 
“Morning,” you return lightly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Snipe tips his hat in your direction with a quiet grunt. “Are the others still asleep?” 
The drooping blonde hair that frame’s Yagi’s face sway as he shakes his head. “Not everyone. I believe Yamada-kun is at his radio station. Ectoplasm is out walking the perimeter with Hound Dog. Though Aizawa-kun may be sleeping…”
“He got back from night patrol a few hours ago,” Kurose adds. They wave both hands at you, spacetime wielding fingers wiggling as though to entice you, “That aside, would you like to join us on our morning run?” 
Your expression immediately shifts, exhibiting strong disinclination. “I appreciate the invite, but I’d rather return to a horizontal position until my work hours start”. 
Kurose laughs warmly. Yagi, however, insists on reciting the benefits to early exercise while he ties and reties his shoes. You send them off, holding the door open to breathe in the morning dew, and spend a minute feeling the cool air prickle your cheeks. 
The day crawls on. You get to your classroom before the first period and review the lesson plans. The third years stagger to their seats. You can sympathise with their dead eyed stares—two hours of quirk regulation law is not exactly the most riveting topic—and take no offense to their spiritless attitudes. 
Third period is spent fostering discussion about politics with the business students. By the time lunch hour comes and goes you have barely left your classroom. Your next set is composed of first year hero students. This academic year both class 1A and B had been mixed into the same group. Hardly six months after a war steeped in blood and sacrifice, Japan’s citizens were not so eager to hand their children over to a hero school. Thus there were few applicants. Nevertheless, Principal Nedzu remained optimistic about their potential. 
Straight away you understood his judgement. In covering the quirk history module you saw first hand their iron willed determination to learn from the past and change the system. Hands are thrown high in the air—eager despite your intention to wind down—as you inquire their thoughts about the quirk classification system. 
“The whole thing is bull—brainless!” one of your more headstrong students, Higuchi, calls out. You can picture the lurid glare behind his blacked out glasses. His classmates murmur in agreement. 
“He’s right, Sensei,” Kaneko, 1B class president, adds quietly. The air distorts around her when she speaks and your jaw clenches, withholding a flinch as your ear pops. “Why are there only three categories? It makes no sense”. 
“I agree. The classification system is simplistic and outdated. Which is what leads me into my final question…” you hold out your hands in mock surrender, brows pointedly arched, and they settle down. In that instant, the door slides open and disrupts the peace. Every head turns to watch Eraserhead slip brazenly into the classroom, and after a pregnant pause, gesture for you to continue. 
Heat rises to the high point of your cheeks. His expression is soft in the artificial light, fixed on you with intent and sincere intrigue. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth.  “Ah—What was I saying?” you joked nervously. Sensing your embarrassment the kids begin to laugh under their breath. “That’s right. My question is, if possible, what are some of the categories you would introduce to improve the quirk database? Brainstorm for me. There are no wrong answers!” 
Those eyes nag at you for the remainder of the hour. With another teacher present, heralded as a war hero no less, the motivation to impress increases tenfold. You bullet point their answers on the class board, prompting further explanation or examples and suggesting your own. It’s a welcome distraction—
And the outcome is far more comprehensive than you expected:
Generation describes quirks that allow the individual to create something from their body. Example: Creati. 
Manipulation refers to quirks that control what is pre existing. Example: Poltergeist. 
Users with a Transmutation quirk can change or alter the function of things around them. Example: Mudman.
Augmentation quirks allow the individual to improve their own body in some way. Example: Mount Lady. 
Information quirks classify those that can detect, understand and apply information. Example: Nighteye.
You watch them rush to scribble the list down. Murmurings carry through the classroom as they turn to one another, listing more examples, giving thought to how each quirk should be designated. Pride swells in your chest. 
“I have a question”.
Aizawa remained hunched in the corner, one hand deep in his pocket. The other is raised lazily above his head. This elicits some anticipation from your students. You motion for him to continue, “Yes, Aizawa-sensei?”
“Erasure is listed as ‘Emitter’ in the quirk database. This means I share a category with quirks which are fundamentally different, such as Hellflame,” he speaks with a calm, assertive cadence that holds the kids' attention. His gaze sweeps across the class and they squirm. “Tell me, what would you categorise my quirk as to draw that distinction?”
The long silence is contemplative rather than daunting. Higuchi fakes a cough. He lifts his fist, fingers unfurling as his wrist then falls limp, feigning indifference. It was made no secret that he admired Eraserhead, given their shared ocular abilities. Allure was a powerful quirk. Persuaded with a single glance, inhibited only by the specialised lenses in his glasses. 
Thus you recognise the attitude change for what it is—a preemptive measure in the case that he slips in front of the man he admires. “Higuchi,” you warmly addressed. Aizawa centres his attention on the boy. “Do you have a suggestion for Aizawa-sensei?”
“Y—yeah,” he says. “I thought we could add something like ‘Condition’ to the list…?”
“Can you elaborate on that?” you try to encourage. Aizawa’s posture shifts, his interest piqued. 
“I was just thinking, Erasure doesn’t fit any of the shi—stuff we thought up,” Higuchi continues, his fingers knotted tight on the desk, knuckles white. “Condition would cover people whose quirks enforce a condition on others. Like an infatuation quirk or—or my own quirk”.
Everybody is seemingly waiting with bated breath. You glance back at Aizawa, now carefully regarding Higuchi. You know that look. “Not bad, kid,” he nods, quietly pleased. Higuchi grins. 
Smiling, you move to add ‘Condition’ to the list. 
You’re on edge after the bell rings. Aizawa’s presence brushes you like a breath of balmy air, biding his time while you send off your class, grunting in response to those who bow in his direction. When you finally turn his half lidded gaze is mellowed. 
“So,” you begin clumsily. “Is there any particular reason why you interrupted my lesson?” 
Aizawa hums. A sound so deep, so supple you want to lean into it. “I have a favour to ask. Is the rest of your afternoon free?” 
“The Eraserhead asking me a favour?” you tease, needlessly lining up your stationary before collecting your things. “I’ve got no more classes to teach, if that’s what you mean. Why?”
“All Might can’t assist supervising heroics training this afternoon,” he mutters, examining your display boards with absentminded curiosity. 
“You need to give me more than that, Aizawa”. 
He exhales, mouth pressed thin, ducking into his capture weapon. You see a shift in expression, the skin of his cheeks drawing up to crinkle around his eyes. The petulance brings a smirk to your lips. Aizawa had been mildly avoidant and emotionally reserved from the moment you met him, but for someone so motivated by logic he seemed to expect you to read his mind lately. 
“Two people are required to oversee the class”
“And you want that second person to be me?”
“If you’re going to be difficult I can ask Thirteen,” he replies dryly. The tip of his tongue wets his bottom lip, tempting your gaze. You feel yourself consciously resisting. 
The empty threat hangs lightly in the room. Your smirk gentles into a smile. He tracks your movement, standing aside while you tuck in the desk chair. “No, no. I’ll come,” you demurred. “I want to help. Let’s go”. 
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: — Message: 
Hisorrywoulditbepossibletogetanextensiononmyessay?Myspacebarisbroken. 
Shinsou Hitoshi
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From blue rafters to monochrome stone, the arched structure of Gym Gamma comes into view. Towers over you as you approach. Aizawa’s footsteps are purposeful and his legs carry him forward with a lumbering gait. You’ve changed into shoes befitting the outdoors—a pair of boots that hug your calves tight and keep your ankles warm as the afternoon wanes toward an inevitable cold evening. 
“The students participating today have been previously cleared for training in a controlled environment by their psychiatrist,” Aizawa says, breathing slightly visible in the autumn chill. His hands are buried deep in his capture weapon. “First they’ll start by sparring without quirks to warm up. If I see no risk they can then move on to using quirks”.
Allowing the kids to train again had been a sensitive matter. Not a single hero student came out the war unscathed; the first years especially, given the proximity to AFO, were dealt extensive physical and psychological trauma—a handful even undergoing  forced quirk awakening. Throwing them back into a battle environment, controlled or otherwise, needed to be handled with care. 
Aizawa did just that, and to your knowledge he always had. He exercised caution with his students. Even if it came across as harsh. Even if the chances of danger were nil. He was staunchly protective of his brood. You understood that to be the reason why their parents trusted him to lead them forward—
And you hoped it meant he would be open to your advice throughout the training. 
Your head bobs, nodding in acknowledgment. “During the latter half of the session, if I see signs of a student in distress—?”
“Inform me,” he cuts in firmly. A flash of crimson pools into his irises, gone between blinks, and you’re left to wonder if it was just a trick of the light. “I’ll erase their quirks and stop the spar before it escalates”. 
You ponder that as Aizawa shields his eyes and scans the beyond when a chorus of voices reaches your ears. An amalgamation of 2A and 2B are waiting by the gym doors, with the few that recognise you excitedly waving their arms and calling your name. 
“Understood,” a small smile pulls at your lips. You wave toward the group, donned in their UA tracksuits. “You’re the boss”. 
Iida graciously bids you both welcome, his hand chopping through the air as he speaks over the others and attempts to assuage them. Questions of All Might’s whereabouts are few and far, instead entirely focused on your unexpected presence—all the more surprising that Midoriya visibly brightens, unaffected by his mentor’s absence. 
You allow Aizawa to take the wheel while he makes introductions, rocking idly on your feet, nodding along when prompted. “I’m sure some of you are well acquainted, whether it be through individual quirk consultations or taking quirk science as your chosen elective…”
Yaoyorozu is poised beside a fellow student, Jirou, arms crossed over her midriff. Fingers wiggle by the crook of her elbow in another subtle wave, smile gracing her lips. Bakugo catches the movement and his eyes flicker in your direction. He acknowledges you with a short nod.
“Today is not about analysing the progression of your quirks. We will be observing how you apply them,” he continues. There’s a fleeting emphasis to his voice. It carries an underlying warning, the same way a parent might quietly reprimand a child. The class visibly stands straighter and Midoriya raises his hand. 
Aizawa exhales, a fond sort of exasperation shining through, “…Midoriya”.
“Will we receive individual feedback?” Midoriya eagerly questioned. “And can we get Sensei’s opinion on our own ideas? Because—!”
“Kid,” Aizawa drawls. Colour paints Midoriya’s face pink but he seems bashful rather than ashamed. “Once we move onto sparring with quirks, yes, you will be notified of anything we deem significant. After class”. 
Bakugo, Monoma, Shinsou, Tetsutetsu and Midoriya appear particularly motivated by this. You clear your throat, gaze sliding to Aizawa as you add, “And anyone seeking my opinion or reassurance is free to email me. We can set up a meeting. That’s what I’m here for, after all”.  
The hour wore on. Aizawa was happy to watch in comfortable silence, offering up any thoughts and observations as they passed. There’s a clear sense of pride about him. A softness. Comfortable showing it now he’s a distance from the prying eyes of his students.
Hand-to-hand warm ups progress to quirk use. Some have formed small battle royale type groups while the others chose to pair up. You scan the gym with a keen eye. The quick streak of Midoriya’s red sneakers as his left foot pivots on the mats catches your attention. His opponent, Todoroki, falls into a balanced stance. 
You watch their fight unfold. The intensity swells. Dread prickles down your spine. “Aizawa…” you cautioned. 
Green lightning pulses. One For All activates. A metallic taste sticks to the roof of your mouth. Midoriya’s body twists, and with it his right foot swings up in a singular, upward path. It cleaves through the air, a slice more than it is a swing, and the force lands squarely on the side of Todoroki’s skull—or it would have, if he hadn’t blocked it with his arm, encased in ice. 
There’s a split second in which everything stops. An immense, charged force bore down on your lungs. Your vision blurred. As quick as it came the lightning died out and a deluge of shattered ice fell to the ground. 
“Ouch,” Todoroki says, cradling his wrist. You think that probably doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Aizawa sprinted across the room without ceremony, his hair hung high in suspension and ready to step in. Todoroki interjects first. Presumably to defend his friend and assure them both that he’s fine. While Aizawa scans his forearm for any sign of major injury you watch Midoriya return to himself. Colour drains from his face. Chest heaving. There’s a violent tremor in his legs.  Between rapid blinks you hear the crack in his mumbled apologies. 
Aizawa settles a gentle hand on his shoulder. The rest of the students return to their matches, save for a select few who spare Midoriya a concerned glance—nevertheless, nobody is truly surprised. You can only wonder how often this happens. 
Midoriya broke himself for the sake of others more times than you could stomach, and you’ve been witness to how uniquely adept he is at hiding those splintered parts first hand. With the wound still so fresh, people needed the courageous, forthright, spirited version of him, the one with the beaming smile and the promise of safety. At only sixteen years old that is already his delegated role in life. 
There are not enough words to depict just how catastrophic the war had been. You suffered heart-wounds of your own but in facing the sacrifice these children gave you felt a contrite, shameful hole in your consciousness. This is victory; the only one on the table, and it is painful.
While Aizawa calms Midoriya, your focus returns to the rest of the class. Tetsutetsu is holding his own against Iida. Kuroiro is half steeped in shadow, reflexively sinking into his quirk as he wards off Bakugo’s punches. You note that Kaminari is unsteady on his feet, having already discharged too much electricity. 
Something about Monoma’s hesitance also holds your attention. Of the abilities he’s used there has only been four. Odd, given his ability to hold five at a time, and the plethora of quirks surrounding him. 
You chew your lip and it occurs to you that he must be keeping one on reserve from prior to the lesson. The next thought comes unbidden, inhaling sharply as a sudden, cold sort of clarity slides through you. 
The only quirk you imagine Monoma could still be intentionally holding onto is the one he took during the fight against AFO. Erasure. 
“What’re you thinking?”
You shake out of your stupor and find Aizawa closer than expected. Somewhere in between he had tied his hair up. He tucks a wayward strand behind his ear, eyes squinted and wrinkling the scar tissue high on his cheek. “What?” you ask dumbly. 
“You went somewhere,” he clarifies. You feel his knuckles lightly knock your temple. “What are you thinking about?” 
“Ah,” you smile, abashed, and rub the spot of skin he touched. “Just making mental notes. I wish I had brought something to write with”.
“Well?” Aizawa says, as though his silence was enough of an invitation. “Tell me about them”. 
“It’s obvious the student’s have made incredible progress when compared to their first year quirk assessments. But there are some minor adjustments that I think will help considerably…”
You go on to list ideas for development and support tech. Things like regularly involving parkour into all their training routines. Or having Iida request smaller engines along the front legs of his costume for faster braking, or sharper turns. Or experimenting with Mina’s quirk, testing how precise her control is over her acid’s viscosity and if she could potentially create gaseous forms.
Your awareness wanes periodically, pausing open mouthed to discern the skill of each group, weighing your thoughts. To his credit Aizawa does listen to you ramble, mellowing the longer you speak. Tension seeps from his shoulders as though pulled down by gravity and that look of contentment returns. 
“In terms of wielding their quirk the one I’m most concerned about is probably Kaminari,” you hesitate, chewing your lip as your voice lowers. “I believe he still views his quirk as a final move”.
Aizawa leans forward, attentive to your opinion, and hums. The dulcet melody is warm by your ear—
You become conscious of his proximity. The air retains his heat, the indistinct woodsy notes that always clung to his clothes. 
—and your throat constricts as you swallow.
“Because of that he immediately jumps from zero to one hundred. I’ve seen his files. It results in mild cranial nerve lesions which then induces temporary impairment mid battle,” you continue soberly, staring ahead with lips stretched into strained assurance as some of the students begin to notice your proximity. 
Monoma strikes the back of Tetsutetsu’s leg as he makes a suggestive gesture, making him collapse on one knee. You close your eyes as embarrassment floods your body, “I have to wonder if he ever worked with a quirk counsellor in the first place”. 
Aizawa signals his agreement and moves back a fraction. His expression remained unchanged. He is by no means an unfeeling man, but you can’t help being jealous about how unshaken he is. All the while you probably look like a spring bouquet. 
“So, how do you suggest we help him?” 
His genuine countenance tempered your short lived frustration, and the word ‘we’ echoed in your mind. You knew what he meant, but it still brought a pleasant flutter to your chest. “I think we should start by having support give him a multimeter,” you reply. “Atleast that way we can discern the point that he begins to lose cognition and work upwards from there”. 
“Alright. I’ll ask Maijima-san once we’re done here,” he nods. There is a tentative pause. “Anything else you think needs to be addressed?” 
“There is…Monoma,” you add. His head turns in your peripheral vision, visibly taken aback. 
“Monoma?” he repeated. 
“This is just speculation on my part,” you grimace, sparing a glance toward the students. As the session winds down they’ve gathered in the centre of the mats, talking to one another. “But I have a hunch that he might still be holding onto your quirk”.
Aizawa’s face becomes pinched. The apparent frustration grows as his expression shifts. Mouth twisting, jaw moving with gritted teeth. “I should’ve noticed,” he mutters. 
“Monoma is primarily in Kan-san’s care, not yours. If anything he should be the one to notice,” you say, subtly detailing his side profile as he continues to observe his class. “Between the media circus, your physiotherapy, teaching and being a father—you can hardly blame yourself”. 
The bridge of his nose wrinkles at that. “Shit, sorry. Did I overstep?” you fret. 
Aizawa’s expression smooths out, reluctantly. He exhales. “No. I’m just not used to the idea of being a parent, I suppose”. 
“Guardian, then,” you amended with a flippant wave, hoping to lighten the sullen atmosphere. “Though I guess teaching is like a sub-branch of parenting in itself”. 
“How so?”
“Good or bad, a teacher plays a big part in shaping a child, right?” For a strange, short moment, you’re hyper aware of how closely he watches you as you speak, and you deal with it by finding great interest in the gym floor. “Y’know. Their self confidence, beliefs and ambitions… didn’t you have anyone like that?” 
That gives him pause, and while he thinks you drink in the line of his jaw, angular and shadowed by stubble, the wispy strands framing his face as his haphazard ponytail slowly loosens, and the faint crease formed across the bridge of his nose after grimacing so frequently. 
Aizawa’s brow arches. Caught, you quickly cast your gaze to the gym floor. “Well. There is the man that made me realise I wanted to go underground,” he says, graciously ignoring your ogling. “His purple highness”.
“His purple highness?!” you echo, voice clamouring through the now quieted din, diverting the students attention from their post training stretches. “Fuck, sorry. Of all the heroes I wasn’t expecting you to say him”. 
Nakaoji Tenma, now retired hero ‘His purple highness’, was the polar opposite of Aizawa. Widely renowned for flamboyance and theatrics, his notorious vibrant two piece suit and frilly open chested jacket sporting vibrant epaulettes on each shoulder was particularly unforgettable. 
“You wouldn’t be the first. I thought Nemuri was absurd for recommending Oboro and I during her work study,” he reminisced. 
“Surely it wasn’t that bad”.
Aizawa cracks a rueful grin. “His highness quickly recognised that I would have poor media presence and tried to teach me ‘how to smile’ properly. As you can see, it didn’t work out”.
You weren’t so sure. Aizawa’s amusement always started behind his eyes, a mirth that flashed across a grey midwinter and trickled into his chest to create a brief, reserved huff of laughter; though you sense underlying melancholy as he recounts his internship and lost loved ones, his smile still curled sincerely at the edges. 
“I don’t know. I like your smile. Even if it can be a little…”
“Disturbing?” 
“Disarming,” you return, nudging his side. Without intention your fingers brushed against the rough skin of his knuckles, fine hairs prickling—and then a sudden, shrill whistle cuts suggestively through the mood, shattering it. 
Kaminari stands proud a few feet ahead of his snickering classmates, lips closed around his middle fingers. Aizawa rolls his neck with an indignant sigh. The joint clicks. He raises his voice and impassively announces, “For that you can all do ten laps”.
A chorus of objections fills the gym. One by one, the students drag their feet toward the outer edge and break into a jog. You bite back a smile, “You’re awful”. 
“Never claimed not to be,” he tells you. “All Might has another hospital appointment at the end of next week, if you want to join us again”. 
A nascent fondness unfurls in your chest. “Sure,” you murmur. “I’d like that”. 
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From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Cc: [email protected] Subject: Request [High importance] Message:
Our resident quirk scientist has advised us to provide Kaminari Denki [ID: 16XXXX] with a multimeter to assist in his training. Do we have one on campus or am I going to have to do more paperwork?
Aizawa Shouta 2A Homeroom Teacher, UA High School Private number: +81 (03) 1234-5678 Do not call unless you are dying. 
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: An email is here! Message: 
My friend,
Young Midoriya informed me that you took my place alongside Eraserhead in training this afternoon. He found your input very impressive, and even expressed the desire to have you look over his notebooks. That is quite the privilege! Ah, but please don’t tell him I told you that…!!!
Thank you for your hard work today. I will see you at dinner.
Yagi Toshinori Heroics Department, UA High School └(★o★)┐ 𝓹𝐥𝔲s Ǘ𝐋ⓣ𝔯𝓐 ┌(★o★)┘
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Something indiscernible has since shifted. 
The work week is long, and when you crawl your way out of the mire of trepidation that decidedly hung over you, the source becomes clearer. 
The kids are being weird. 
Heroes in training, absolutely, but masters in subtlety they are not. Less than innocent, mischievous whispers would reach your ears, and silhouettes duck behind the nearest corner whenever you look back. Above all else they’ve taken to closely observing your interactions with Aizawa—sometimes going as far as forcing them. Kaminari even deems it appropriate to be nosey about your love life—or rather, your lack thereof—during your supplementary one-to-one. 
“That is not your business nor is it relevant to your essay,” you told him, tapping the end of your marker against the desk. The gentle reprimand did nothing to placate him. Scratching his cheek, Kaminari simply laughed and returned to reading the annotations you’d left on his work. 
Aizawa doesn’t bat an eye to any of it. While he presented himself as an extremely private man with clear boundaries drawn between home and work, it was obvious to you that that line had been trampled. He was accustomed to their harmless meddling. 
“Believe me. It’s worse if you tell them to stop,” he said, as if they were toddlers and would eventually tire themselves out.  
You have the pleasure of teaching their final class that Friday. If you’re lucky, come Monday they’ll have forgotten whatever it is they’re hatching.
Their focus wanes with the hour, your lesson structure a little looser to lead them into the weekend. Eri had joined unexpectedly, hidden behind Midoriya’s legs and teetering on her tiptoes to peek around the room. Kouda let’s Yuwai-chan rest in her arms as she sits on her very own chair beside Shinsou, mumbling small delights. 
“Focus, guys. We all have something called a Plus Alpha Mechanism in our DNA…”
Your pen glides along the board. The quiet repetitive sound of Bakugo’s tangle fidget matches your meridian rhythm, and you could almost forget the nonsense that has shadowed you since the training session. 
“…Here. The simplest way to think of it is like this,” following along with a finger, you read the written equation. “For example, if somebody has a tail—”
“Like Ojiro-kun!” Midoriya chirps. Bakugo gives him a sidelong glare, and his cheeks fill with air. 
“Correct, Midoriya,” you smile at his sheepishness. Your finger moves along to the latter half of the equation, “But the mechanism to move and wield his tail comes from the Plus Alpha. Added together, this forms the Quirk Factor”. 
“Sensei, is it then possible that quirklessness can occur when the Plus Alpha gene expression is not activated?” Iida inquires. Midoriya’s pencil stutters. 
“That’s right,” you flash him an encouraging smile, wider as he preens. Bakugo’s hands, too, have notably faltered, the tangle fidget balled up into a knot. “It’s a popular explanation amongst fourth gen members of the medical community. Older generations tend to prefer the whole archaic toe joint theory—but I don’t have time to cover that today”. 
Midoriya and Bakugo exhale in tandem. Monoma observes their behaviour closely, chin cupped in his palm. He seems well rested which alleviates the heaviness in your chest a fraction. You hope Aizawa has had the chance to speak with him. 
“Any other questions before I start to wrap up?”
Shinsou goes to raise his hand, stopping midway. Your brow arches and he indicates to wait. You watch on as he leans down to whisper something to Eri. Her doe-eyed gaze snaps from Yuwai-chan to his face, meeting an expression apologetically soft. And whatever it is he says, she pats his cheek in response. 
Sufficiently reassured, Shinsou once again raises his hand above his head. And as he relays his question a sober atmosphere befalls the class. 
In a roundabout manner—and refusing to name him—Shinsou asks about the Quirk erasing bullets used in the Shie Hassaikai case. You, like him, immediately seek Eri’s permission to speak on it. She gathers Yuwai-chan closer and nods. 
“Despite the name, the quirk erasing bullets did not technically erase any individuals quirk genes. They were engineered to directly attack the Plus Alpha,” the tip of your pen squeaks as you write out the words below the previous equation, underlining them twice. “Therefore the quirk could no longer be activated, making them functionally quirkless”. 
Shinsou accepts this, cheek sunken where he chews the flesh. Between blinks the pensive downturn to his mouth begins to curl into a faint smirk. “What about Aizawa-sensei’s quirk?” he asks, feigning innocence.
Your benevolence tapers as the class titters. Eri giggles, muffled by Yuwai-chan’s fur, and her shoulders hunch to hide in the little neck she has. 
“While I understand why you might conflate the two, Aizawa-sensei’s ocular quirk, Erasure, deactivates the Plus Alpha temporarily,” you answer at the end of a short sigh, taking a step back to lean against the wall. You skim the room with a pointed look, “As I’m sure you have all experienced first hand”. 
A few shudder at that. The whiplash of having the connection to your quirk severed must be alarming. You imagine it’s not something one can ever get used to. 
“Oc-u-lar?” Eri repeats. You feel your expression gentle as you meet her curious gaze. 
“Ocular means it’s connected to his eyes,” you explain simply, pointing to your own. “That is why his left eye glows red when he uses his quirk. Cool, right?” 
Accepting this, Eri’s cheeks swell with her smile and she chirps in agreement, “I like his eyes. They’re pretty”. 
“She likes his eyes,” Kaminari repeats with a faux-solemn nod. “Do you think so too, Sensei?” 
Iida sits ramrod straight in his seat. The abrupt jolt knocks his glasses halfway down his nose, “That is hardly appropriate for the classroom!” 
The electric blonde waves in surrender, “It’s just an innocent question, Prez! Not like I asked if he was United States of sma—”
“Kaminari-kun!”
Something snaps. Yuwai-chan yips. A litany of orange curved pieces spray across the table. Bakugo slumps, wearing a scowl dark enough to silence the chaos, debris from the broken fidget between his fingers. “Who gives a fu—” he spares Eri a quick glance and releases a long, deliberate exhale. “Who cares. Bunch’a nosey losers”  
Worry paints Momo’s features. Somewhat uncharacteristic of her, she readily rolls up her sleeve to offer the creation of another tangle. “Bakugo-kun, do you need me to…?”
“Don’t worry, Yaoyorozu-san!” Midoriya interrupts with a sunny complexion. He lumbers his backpack into his lap, zips it open and pulls out an identical fidget. “Kacchan breaks them a lot”.
You stifle the urge to groan into your hands, or gather them all into an uncomfortably strong hug, or both. For as much as you could tease Aizawa for allowing the students to bulldoze through his work-life boundaries it is becoming clear you're just as guilty. 
Bakugo lingers after the bell rings. The others file out, some with apologetic smiles, and neither of you speak until the classroom is empty. “Is everything okay, Bakugo?” you ask lightly. 
He itches his neck. Shoulder jerking as he shrugs, giving a stiff nod. Looking a little frayed around the edges, Bakugo mutters, “Sorry about the mess. M’staying to pick it up”. 
“That’s not necessary,” you objected. A slight pout works its way onto his lips. You know well enough that for all his posturing, Bakugo respects the word of his teachers. “I assure you it’s fine, Bakugo. But I really appreciate the sentiment”.
“Whatever,” he says, barely above a mumble. He shoves his hands into his pants pockets and motions to leave. “See ya Monday, Sensei”.
“Take care, Bakugo,” you call after him. Your ears latch onto the leaden echoing of footsteps until they disappear down the hallway. Silence creeps in while you pick up the small curved pieces.  The little moment of peace you had sought all week does not arrive. There are still emails to attend to, assignments to mark and future lessons to structure—
Your stomach rumbles and interrupts that thought. Again, evermore persistent while you attempt to ignore it. Eventually you dump the collected orange pieces into your desk drawer and make for the staff lounge, switching off the lights as you go. 
All Might and Present Mic are the only two in the room. Yamada spots you first. He’s yet to remove his costume, and the leather sleeves cream as he lifts his arms, waving loosely. Yagi spins on his axis for the source of the fuss. There’s a spoon in his mouth, and his lips stretch into a smile around it. 
A smile that dims as soon as you land in your chair with a heavy sigh. “I feel that,” Yamada says. His comically tall hair reaches high over your computer monitor, green eyes peering over the frame. “Kiddos run you ragged today?” 
“I don’t know how they do it. It’s not like we’re sparring,” you snort lightly and rest your chin against your hand. The muted scent of Yagi’s greek yoghurt lingers in the air. You wrinkle your nose, “Have either of you noticed them behaving…oddly? I feel like they’ve been scheming”. 
Yagi pauses mid scoop, bewildered. He looks from you to Yamada, who appears infuriatingly in the know. “Odd?” he asks. The shadows around his eyes darken in concern. “Is there anything we should be looking out for?” 
“I wonder,” Yamada titters, tapping a finger against his nose. Green eyes smile at you over the top of his tinted lenses. “Could it have anything to do with Mina asking me about your blood type?”
“Blood type? Whatever for?” 
Covering his mouth, Yamada bends and covers his mouth, amplifying his cryptic whisper, “Romantic compatibility”.
Chewing your inner cheek, you shake your head and insist, “It’s just a popular theory about personality types from the pre quirk era”. Yagi’s expression clears. He accepts the explanation easily. You wished it were that simple. “I’m sure it’s nothing…” your attention wavers as you notice movement out the window. 
A distant black figure grows larger the closer it gets. Eraserhead is coming back from his afternoon patrol. He sweeps up onto the roof of a nearby building and dashes along the eaves before leaping off again. His capture weapon lassos the adjacent dormitory building and he swings in a perfect arc that vaults him upwards. The movements flow into one another naturally, without thought, nimble as he twists through the air. You can’t take your eyes off him. 
“No, you’re right. It’s definitely nothing,” Yamada quips lightly, his voice drawing you to the present. The implication behind his tone rings loud and clear and it shakes you from your reverie. 
Embarrassment sours your expression; it feels like you’ve swallowed the sun. “It’s not like that,” you insist, laughing nervously. Your gaze settles on a heart sticker Eri pasted on the desk. An old coffee stain has blurred the colour, cheap ink smeared into the wood. Your fingers come away stained pink. 
“Young love is exciting! There’s no shame in it. You can be honest with us. With me,” Yagi’s large hand comes down on your shoulder to give a reassuring pat. “I may be old but I’m not that dense. I think”. 
“You’re hardly old, Yagi-san. You’re only fifty”.
Yagi chuckles in that signature All Might fashion, a blush glowing bright on his cheekbones. “Thank you. But that is beside the point,” he says. The laughter mellows into a contemplative hum and you fidget while he watches you closely, warmly, “…It’s just, Aizawa seems a bit more alive when you’re around”. 
Yamada leans forward to rest his chin in his palms, held open like a flower in bloom, and murmurs his agreement. 
“What…do you mean exactly?” you ask. 
Yagi exhales, wringing battle worn hands in his lap. “He has been through a lot,” he begins. “Of course we all have but as I’m sure young Yamada here can attest, Aizawa shoulders more responsibility than he needs to”. 
“Lotta unnecessary blame, too,” Yamada nods. A bittersweet tone pervades the air. “Always has, ever since we were kids. Reckon that’s why he doesn’t sleep”.
“See, there’s the kind of exhaustion that usually just requires a good night’s sleep,” Yagi’s face is sallow, and his gaze flickers to Aizawa’s empty desk. “But there is also another kind that asks much more—and I see that in Aizawa. Like he’s wearing a heavy coat that became heavy bones”.
Despite the clumsy metaphor you feel his words weighing on your heart; notably shared in a way that makes you think that he, too, wore a similar heavy coat of blame. And you thought: such is grief. 
“But!” Yagi suddenly blurts, restoring his former enthusiasm. “Since you started here it’s like…” he gesticulates with his hands then, searching for the right thing to say, stalling as seemingly he does not find it. “All that is to say Aizawa has a fondness for you and I think you should go for it!”
Self conscious, you pick at the skin around your thumb. Yagi’s encouragement was appreciated. With the quintessential All Might optimism unintentionally bleeding through it almost felt like you could do anything. But your head shakes and you laugh breathlessly at the thought, “You’re actually quite a gossip, aren’t you, Yagi-san?”
Yamada’s cackle reverberates around the lounge as Yagi splutters his shock into a tissue. You pat his shoulder. Pressing your lips thin you try not to smirk. 
“What are you doing?” 
Simultaneously, the three of you freeze, voices converging the instant you three blurt, “Nothing!” 
Aizawa frowns, displeasure framed by windswept hair tousled in all directions. He loiters in the open doorway a moment longer and his scrutiny pervades the air. You tightly cross your ankles under the legs of your chair and maintain an innocent look. 
Feigning obliviousness Yagi attempts to redirect the subject, “Did anything interesting happen on patrol, Aizawa-kun?”
Ultimately, Aizawa let it go. He shut the door behind him and the tension slipped from his shoulders as he shrugged and accepted the deflection. “Nothing significant. A bit busier than usual,” he replies.  “Seems like the commercial district has finished being rebuilt”.
Your heart beats and blood rushes to the tips of your fingers—dark eyes do not leave you as Aizawa slinks past to the kitchenette, taking with him a brush of cool fresh air. Yamada ducks between the computer monitors. Mouth puckered, he begins making an exaggerated kissing face at you. Oscillating between flustered and irritated, you reach for the nearest thing and throw it. A pencil bounces off his forehead, clattering to the floor, and he yelps. 
Aizawa returns holding two nutritional jelly pouches. “I don’t doubt you deserved that,” he comments, blasé as he passes you one of the colourful packets unprompted. It takes great effort not to gawk at his fingerless gloves, the once buttery leather now weathered. 
“Wow. Where’d my best friend go?” Yamada laments. He makes a dramatic show of the betrayal, long limbs sagging across his desk. “And no jelly for me, either. For shame! What happened to brothers before lovers?” 
Twisting off the cap to the pouch with his teeth, Aizawa sucks out the gelatinous innards until the plastic flattens. A smile plays on his lips as you stifle your amusement. “Hizashi, you know I flunked English,” he deadpans. 
The voice hero deflates. He turns to wave the previously thrown pencil at you, “Here. You left this knife in my back”. 
“You’re ridiculous”. 
“Et tu, Brute?”
The interaction does nothing to ruffle Aizawa. Like water to a duck's back. He merely saunters over to his desk, discards the empty pouch in the small bin beside his chair, and scoops up a thick binder of papers.  
“And now he flees,” Yamada pouts, holding the pencil between his top lip and his nose. 
“No, I need to wash up,” he dismisses Yamada and indicates toward his prosthesis, then dryly adding, “And I’m not sticking around to listen to you recite Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar simply because I didn’t bring you a jelly pouch”.
“Aw. That’s cold, Sho”. 
You bask in their back and forth. A friendship built on open hearts and feet that bleed. They share jabs, opinions and hardships without worry because there’s unequivocal trust there. Watching them together unearths a fraction of envy; stuck between wanting someone like that at your side, to wanting it to be him. 
Aizawa leaves not long after. He casts you a sidelong glance that you can’t read. One job to another, the work is patently endless, though you can’t help but to notice that it is self imposed—being stagnant is never in the cards. 
You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. Yagi clears his throat in the prolonged pause. “So. What is your blood type?” he asks with little tact, avoiding your look of betrayal. “If I had to guess, Aizawa-kun must be type B. He is quite honest and unconventional…”
Yamada cackles again. 
You put your head in your hands. This is hell. And it is largely populated by the UA heroics department.
The three day weekend couldn't come any quicker.
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From: [email protected]  To: [email protected]  Subject: Check this out! Message: 
HEEEEEY 😎
[HYPERLINK: myquirkyintrovert.jp//11-introvert-friendly-activities-perfect-for-a-first-date/] Figured you might need this. ROTFL !
(Rooting for you)
Yamada Hizashi English Department, UA High School Put Your Hands Up Radio 81.3FM QOTD: If music be the food of love, play on 🎵 
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The morning spills over your senses like a heady fog. It obscures your vision, sleep-sand still tucked into the corners of your eyes. Dust fairies dance in the spotlight cast through the room and you turn into your pillow, away from the performance. 
You’re caught in a web—linens tangled around your ankles, anchored to the bed, suffering through cottonmouth and haze. According to the time you slept plenty. According to your body, however. 
The floor is cold against your feet. You yawn, joints clicking as your limbs stretch. Meander through the typical morning routine without a second thought, or a third. Only when your face is washed and you’re significantly more awake do you wander out of your apartment.
Cushioned by a set of fluffy, foam soled slippers, you stumble into the common area, welcomed to a languid, warm atmosphere. Surprisingly, a few people are already there. Yamada is dressed in his civilian clothing, waist length hair pulled back into a braided ponytail that mimics a mohawk. Eri is seated on one of the kitchen stools, squirming as his fingers work through her hair in gentle twists, styling it to match his own.  
She’s wearing a denim overall dress dotted with embroidered cats over a long sleeved shirt, matching the subtle pattern on her white tights. Her legs kick happily under the island. A smile pulled at your mouth as you watched the homely scene. 
A familiar sleep-worn voice murmurs your name and you try to look more alert than you feel.
The smell of percolating coffee reaches your senses. You retreat from the stinging heat that brushes your knuckles as Aizawa nudges a freshly poured mug toward you. “Oh, shit. Thanks,” you mumble. The surroundings are still gossamer soft and blurred at the edges; you’re impassive when your fingers slip through the curved handle and overlap his. 
Faint, coarse hair on his knuckles. Dull nails. Rough skin. You take the mug and bring it to your face. Steam kisses each cheek, billowing as you blow across the tawny surface. Aizawa’s throat bobs. Your stare lingers over the rim longer than appropriate, dragging down his body to take in the rare casual appearance. 
“You look nice”. 
His jaw ticks, eyes fixed on the button of his loose knit cardigan as he rolls it between his thumb and finger. Black, like most of the articles in his wardrobe, but stylish. The hem falls below the hip, hung over a pair of dark slacks. It’s flattering on his frame despite being oversized.
“Contrary to popular belief I can actually dress myself,” he says. 
“Colour me surprised,” you sip the hot coffee in a poor effort to conceal your grin. Even as the remaining dregs of sleep subside you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. “Are you guys going somewhere?”
Before he can respond Eri is bounding over. She crashes into your legs, chin above your knees as she looks up and chimes, “Good morning!”
“Good morning sweetheart,” you say, holding your hot coffee out to the side. Eri’s eyes squint with the force of her smile and sunlight pools through tall standing windows, highlighting the glittery clips in her faux mohawk braid. “Your hair looks beautiful”.
“Thank you,” she delicately pats the top of her head. “I wanted it to look pretty today. We’re going to the com-mer-cial dis…”
“District?”
“District,” she nods excitedly. “Have you ever been to a district? Deku said there are lots of fun things for us to do. Will you come with us?” Then looking to her father for permission, she clutches her dress and asks, “Please?”
You blink. The coffee mug begins to sting the skin of your palms. “We can always use an extra chaperone,” Aizawa offers slowly, eyes sliding over you from head to toe, making you all too aware of the ratty old pyjamas you’re still wearing. “You can accompany us if you want to”.
The next words leave you in an instant.  “Do you want me to?” you asked. They’re clumsy and your voice fractures, bringing with it a flood of warm embarrassment. “Sorry. I think—I’m still half asleep”. 
Shouta suddenly appears to have swallowed a lemon. 
“Of course he wants you to,” Yamada strides over. The absentminded tapping of his phone’s keyboard echoes amidst the awkwardness. A smarmy grin plays on his lips and he tucks his chin to peer at Eri over the rim of his yellow tinted glasses, “Ain’t that right, Eri-chan?”
Eri nods insistently. Aizawa settles his hand atop her crown, careful not to disturb the braid, and stops the bobble head movement. “I don’t need you to speak for me,” He sighs, and the sound is fond more than anything else. “We’re meeting the students by the bus in thirty minutes,” He meets your gaze. A red-gold hue catches the light against the dark limbal ring around his iris. “You should come”.
Your chest flutters and you put his tone down to imagination. “I’d love to,” you reply, patting down your pyjama shirt. “Let me just get ready”. 
Quiet bickering follows you upstairs. You rummage through your wardrobe at a frenetic pace. There’s really no time to spare to worry about what you should wear. Once dressed you cram a water bottle, a lightweight fleece, sun protection, recovery gummies—
You pause, eyeing the unnecessary bulk in your rucksack. No doubt the kids were old enough to bring their own bags. Your tongue smooths over the teeth marks inside your cheek and you set the thought aside. No harm in being prepared. 
The clock on your phone screen blinks. Five minutes to go. You slip it into your pocket and hurry out the door, bag strap drawn over your shoulder. Kurose looks up from the couch as you stumble through the common area, navy hair flattened to one side, a few stray golden strands upright and reminding you of an antenna. 
“Hi Kurose-san,” you huff, jogging past and giving a quick wave. “Bye Kurose-san”. 
“Have fun out there,” they cheered. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That really doesn’t narrow it down by much,” you call back from the genkan, slipping into your shoes. Laughter bleeds through at the faux wounded look Kurose sends your way before you leave. 
The crisp morning air bloats your lungs on a deep inhale. Not a cloud to be seen, the sky a pleasant blue canvas. You descend the steps and follow the path toward the staff car park. Ushered into a single file line, a modest flock of hero students wait beside the minibus. You can’t help noticing how much younger they seem without their uniforms. 
Eri locks onto you instantaneously. Her lips move, and you think she must’ve called for you, but her voice was too small. Still it beckons the attention of the teenagers around her. One by one they shout your name, their clamouring coming together in an ill practised chorus.
Yamada ducks out from the minibus. “Yeaaah!” he beams, leaning against the folded door. “Right on time, my friend. We were just discussing the buddy system”. 
That reminder elicits a quiet groan from the class. Yamada laughs good naturedly, “I know, I know. But safety comes first, kiddos. Have you picked who you’re stuck with today?”
There are various nods and shrugs. Numerous heads turn to Bakugo, including both Midoriya and Todoroki, and he appears indubitably unimpressed that he’s spoiled for choice. Yamada’s focus lands on Eri. “What about you, mini me?” he pokes at the swell of her cheek. “Gonna be my buddy today?” 
Her anxious eyes flicker between you and him. You’re admittedly flattered that she’s torn. But the doubt is short lived, decided by an inconspicuous wink from Yamada. A toothy grin brightens her face. “Okay,” Eri chirps, holding out her hand for him to take. 
“We get to be passenger princesses today,” the voice hero whispers excitedly. You do well to restrain the coo building in your throat as his palm dwarfs her fist and her lips form an ‘o’. 
Suitably organised, the kids begin to climb onto the bus in their pairs. Iida and Todoroki sit in the spaces in front of Shinsou and Bakugo. There’s a soft pout to Midoriya’s lip but he happily joins Kouda, fingers moving in graceless strokes as they sign to one another. Yaoyorozu joins Jirou, taking the window seat. Tokoyami listens along to Kaminari’s aimless rambling; Sero, Mina and Kirishima behind them at the very back. 
Aizawa is already aboard the bus discussing safety policy, capture weapon draped around his shoulders. He pauses conversation with the driver and smiles as Yamada ushers Eri into seats positioned at the very front. Languid, his focus slides to you, the very last to enter. Heartbeat quickening. There’s something there, you feel it existing on the fringes. 
“Enough. Settle down,” he says, voice rough and commanding authority. The commotion dwindles. You nod before shuffling through the aisle to the remaining spaces. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that this trip is a privilege. I am trusting you to behave, follow instructions and stick together. Understood?”
“Yes, Sensei”. 
“Do you all have your phone notifications on?”
Yamada throws up a peace sign and jumps in, “Yes, Sensei”. 
Aizawa rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment. With the polite incline of his head to the driver the bus doors whirred on their hinges and began to shut. He tucks a curtain of hair behind his ear, adding, “Any questions before we leave?” 
Shinsou clears his throat. His elbows rest on the back of Midoriya’s chair. He lazily points towards Aizawa and drawls, “Does Aizawa-sensei have a buddy?” 
You immediately become conscious of a tangible weight. Their stares fall to you, his included. Dark eyes like flint to your very core. You grin and bear it—grimace through the tension and hope his sharp intellect does not extend to 
Aizawa pressed his lips thin, “Any actual questions?” 
The figures in your periphery all shake their heads, biting back amusement in the face of their teachers' chagrin. The pressure does not dissipate when Aizawa takes the spot next to you, nor when the engine sputters to life and the looming barrier bordering the school entrance lifts to allow passage. 
The destination isn’t far. A fifteen minute drive at best. Still, as the journey progresses the air grows notably sombre. While much of the city has been restored, ghosts will remain. Skeletons of buildings sit on the landscape. Once a sprawling metropolis now made a uneven scar tissue terrain. 
That twinge of concern has you looking over your shoulder and scanning the bus in a less than subtle way. Everyone seems fine. Kaminari waves when you catch his eye. The only student that gives you pause is Bakugo, who has taken to staring hard out the window, discomfort etched into his features.
Or perhaps it’s your overactive imagination. The frown smooths into contentment and you realise he’s sharing a split earphone jack with Shinsou—maybe it was a song he didn’t like. 
You try to shake off the trepidation hanging over your mood. Aizawa notices but doesn’t pry and you find yourself grateful. 
Your concerns become minor the moment the minibus pulls into the commercial district. Standing prominent against the skyline, the building is sun drenched and unsettlingly clean. Inside, light pours through the high domed ceiling and reflects on the shiny tiled floor. There are three upper levels visible on spiralled balconies, each dedicated to different departments. 
Ground level is rather miscellaneous. Record stores, hobby crafts, tech booths and things of the like. Soothing music plays in the background, gentle melodic notes. Being somewhere that brought a sense of normalcy boosted the students morale. You’re warmed by contagious excitement—Aizawa too, lacking his usual force and a smile in his tone as he tells them. “Remember, you’re not to leave this building. If something happens you contact one of us”. 
They split off in opposite directions with the promise to meet at the food court in two hours. Eri and Yamada linger a few minutes longer. She tugs at her fathers sleeve and when crouched to her height she plants a short kiss on his stubbled cheek. 
You are then gifted a sparkly clip for keepsake, as though she were giving part of herself to take with you. “Thank you sweetheart,” touched, you attach it to your bag strap. “I’ll keep it safe”.
Satisfied, Eri thrusts her hand up for Yamada to take, and she comically leads him to march in the direction of a children’s store. The crowds are unexpectedly thin. Though you supposed a majority of the general public did not yet have the confidence nor the funds to make leisure trips to the mall. You’re only thankful they are respectfully giving your class a wide berth. 
Aizawa puffs an indignant breath, “…I think we’ve finally been set up”. 
Fondness surges deep in your chest and you bite back a grin. There’s urgency to it that you can’t satisfy. “Glad I’m not imagining things,” you wet your lips, moving to match his stride. “Does it not bother you?” 
“Which part?” he asks. He’s looking anywhere but you. There’s a playful lilt in his tone that equally settles and ignites your nerves. You would search his face for answers if the lower half were not obscured by his scarf. 
“The ‘clearly trying to get us to date’ part”. 
“There are worse people to be lumped with”. 
Aizawa’s profession rarely left time for indulgence. You’ve heard him discuss it before. He never thought it sensible to involve another person in what he had presupposed would be a tumultuous relationship. For that reason, you wonder if he has much experience in romance at all.
“Ever the charmer, Aizawa”. 
“Shouta,” he says. You blink, narrowly caught in a stupor. The erasure hero sinks to burrow deeper into his capture weapon. Warmth rises to the tips of his ears in spite of his efforts. “Just call me Shouta”. 
Very eloquently, your response is, “Oh”. 
“Or don’t,” he grunted. 
There’s a wealth of unspoken confessions behind a single name. Your heart feels full, stuttering in a way it hasn’t in a long while. “So. What should I tell my friends?” you pick up speed, giddiness spurring your pace and taking you a few steps ahead. “‘This is Shouta. We work together. He has twenty-something kids and our first date was spent patrolling the Musutafu mall’?”
“I have one kid—” Shouta falters, though fleeting, as if he hadn’t realised he’d begun to walk the perimeter. He arches an unimpressed brow, any scorn decidedly betrayed by the mirth in his eyes. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”
An hour rolls into another. You meander various stores together, occasionally bumping into the students and ignoring their suggestive looks. He buys some things for Eri—or so he claims, now in possession of three different cat gel pens—and you pick out new books to keep in your classroom. 
And in the grand scheme of things it’s a paltry affair. You’re looking around a newly built mall with a man you’ve known for close to two months. Simple, comfortable, as most things are with Shouta; yet it feels like a path you’ve walked more times than you can count. Fastened by mattress stitch seams, shoulder to shoulder, you share conversation written in passing glances, so many possibilities etched into a handsome crooked smirk—
Three message alerts come loud and in quick succession. That alone is enough to shatter the atmosphere. They feel frantic, and Shouta’s expression is explanatory enough. 
“It’s Shinsou. Something happened with Bakugo,” he mutters. In one fell swoop he is dashing ahead and you are not long behind. He turns a corner. Your kids are bunched together, seemingly bickering and distraught. Midoriya’s frantic voice can be heard above them all. Civilians have parted, tucking themselves against walls and waiting at security’s instruction. You’re comforted by the fact that they are not rushing out in droves. 
Bakugo is absent. The air smells like smoke but there’s no notable damage. Shouta flashes his hero license and steps into the shoes of a guardian so naturally you wonder if he ever takes them off. The officers standing nearby offer sympathetic smiles, allowing you through, too, after seeing your UA badge. 
While Shinsou is relaying what happened to Shouta you approach the others. A chill spikes the air, colder as the distance lessens, and you realise it must be Todoroki’s quirk. He’s standing at Midoriya’s side, exhaling visible breaths, laying a cold hand on his friend's neck to allay the panic. 
“Hey guys,” you greet gently. “Aizawa-Sensei is just clearing things with Shinsou. Do you know what happened?”
Midoriya snaps to attention, “Sensei—Kacchan, he’s—!”
Kaminari closes in, careful as he drapes his arm across Midoriya’s back. “It’s alright, man,” he murmurs. Todoroki nods. There’s a helplessness in his expression. “Kacchan’s okay. He just needed to blow off some steam. Or smoke, I guess”. 
A repetitive sound loops above your heads. You realise then that there’s a jumbo multi screen hovering in the centre of the ceiling. Clips depicting Gigatomanchia's rampage fade one into a title card, the words ‘twenty city rampage’ highlighted across a sepia backdrop. Your stomach churns at the sight, inhaling sharp between your teeth. 
“It’s that new bullshit documentary,” Jirou interjects. She fiddles anxiously with the jack hung from her earlobe. “They—uh. There were pictures of…”
“I understand. Thank you, Jirou,” you say. They needn’t relive it again—but they had. They will. Bakugo simply raised his head and saw his worst experiences pilfered for television. 
You exhale, taking with it the abrupt anger and frustration. They’re looking to you for reassurance. “I promise we’re going to find Bakugo,” you tell them. “I’m sorry that any of you had to see those images again. Like Kaminari said, I imagine he got overwhelmed and needed some space”. 
Midoriya swallows thickly and he nods. The motion is unsettlingly lifeless. His blank stare passes over your shoulder, and a silhouette of bodyheat settles behind you. 
“Shinsou explained everything,” Aizawa says. His presence visibly untangles the knots in their posture. “Security informed me Bakugo is still in the building. I need you all to wait here for Yamada-sensei—” he holds his hands out in a placating gesture as Todoroki begins to interrupt “—you will wait here while we look for him”. 
“I’ll start heading that way,” you point where the wide walkway narrows towards the southern exit and hard turns left, not wanting to remain still for longer than necessary. Aizawa regards you with a meaningful look and nods. 
You take off. The air retains a faint smokey smell. It grows thicker, more prominent as you pass the various hero merch stores, meeting the eyes of a Edgeshot cardboard cutout. Acrid nausea rises unforgiving in your stomach. 
It guides you to a fire door slightly ajar. Through the door is a dreary stairwell, presumably to be used by customers on the upper floors during an emergency. Bakugo’s hunched figure can be seen through the crack. He’s sitting on one of the steps, head cradled in crossed arms. 
You quickly text Shouta to let him know, and ask that he give you two a little space. You’re hardly expecting him to talk. But where Aizawa-sensei goes his ducklings will follow, and you have a feeling Bakugo is not yet in the mindset for company. 
The door creaks on its hinges as you enter. “Leave me alone,” the Bakugo shaped lump growled. An emotional hurricane in the body of a boy. Your throat swells. It threatens to drag you in. You can feel the sharp winds clipping at your resolve as you lower to sit on the step beside him and he bristles, furiously spitting, “I said fuck off!” 
Another, someone more volatile and disciplinarian, could be tempted to jump in. A person such as yourself, lenient and with less experience, might find it easier to flee; to let the gale propograte northward and weaken on its own. Before being employed at UA your students had always been older, plausibly wiser—but, you suppose, children still. You are honest enough to inwardly admit that you don’t know how to make this better. But you are determined to try. 
So you see your body relax and let your voice flow out calmly, “I’m not going anywhere”. 
Bakugo laughs humorlessly and snaps, “What, you gonna lecture me now?” His hands are wrung tight to stop the tremors. Blood surfaces beneath the pressure and seeps into his nail beds. “Gonna tell me some bullshit about how heroism isn’t defined by success and things will get better if I stick it out?” 
“No. I didn’t come here to lecture you,” you say. He eyes you with suspicion. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. We can sit here as long as you need”. 
What follows is a long, thick silence. The lives of people can be heard muffled through the stairwell walls. Unawares, and in a way, unintentionally mocking. Bakugo’s laboured gasps toll louder in your ears. You don’t speak. You monitor the rise and fall of his chest, gradually slowing until the defensive vitriol clears away. 
“I hate losing control like—” Bakugo’s expression twisted uncomfortably then, as though the confession tasted bitter, and you patiently held your breath. "Fuck. How can I call myself a hero when…" his voice loses strength, reminiscent of an echo. 
He rubs harshly at the spot where his heart rests. You take the young hero by the wrist. You envelop his split knuckles wearing a thin smile, admittedly strained, and squeeze around those shaking fingers while the moment simmers, a gentility not in the absence of violence, but despite it all. 
Bakugo blinks up at you. The movement knocks a tear free, careening down the side of a flushed cheek. The sight lodges something in your throat, thick and hard to swallow; all the words you don’t know how to say. You would never understand what it means to reside in his body—to think of yourself as the scene of a crime. 
Family members, strangers, had visited his hospital room to mournfully listen to that pulse one last time, and Bakugo told them to come by whenever as though he were a living effigy of their lost son. You saw the disconnect he felt from himself. That lifelong debate of what makes a person a person. 
He’s just a kid. 
“Bet you’ve heard hundreds of ‘I’m sorry’s’ at this point, huh?” you murmur. Bakugo snorts. 
“Try thousands,” he rasps. Clicks his tongue to his teeth to save face. “Never know what they’re really apologising for. Rubs me the wrong way”. 
And after being witness to how Bakugo’s mind works you understand what that means. Atleast, you think you might. Teenagers hold enough shame without the weight of another person's life in their arms. You only imagine he hears their regret, guilt, disappointment—hears ‘sorry it was you, kid’ and ‘sorry it wasn’t him’. 
“It’s okay to be angry, you know,” you vowed solemnly. “There’s so much pressure to channel what happened to you into something positive. To make it your strength. And maybe you will, eventually. But you’re allowed to step back and say ‘I went through something scary and traumatic and that changed me forever’”. 
Bakugo grunts. He scrubs under his nose with the back of his hand. “Don’t need you to tell me that,” he says, tone lighter than before. It sounds a lot like ‘thank you’. 
“I’m glad,” you nudge his side and return your hands to your lap. “In that case we should talk about something else”. 
“Like what?” 
“Your assignment,” Bakugo snorts, rolling his eyes. “Hey. I’m serious. Most of the others have come to me with their topics but yours is still a mystery”. 
“‘Cause those losers need help and I don’t,” he says. There’s no malice in it. His cadence is lighter, the burden he carries now far more loose fitting. You watch him pick at the rips in his jeans. “…Mine’s about mythological figures. Some cult wackos out there believe the old Gods had quirks. Hence the animal heads and shit”. 
“That’s a brilliant choice, Bakugo,” his answer brings a sincere smile to your lips. “Gives you a lot more to explore in your discussion. I can’t wait to read it”.
The muscles in Bakugo’s face twitch. Mouth deliberately downturned. A flustered yet pleased blush paints the tips of his ears and the simple praise breathes him to life like a technicolour Oz. It eases the anxiety simmering under your skin. You prompt him to talk further, pleasantly surprised to find that his curiosity extends further than Japan’s own mythology. 
Eventually you need to update Shouta again. Leaving it too long would only worry him further. Bakugo’s eyes track your thumbs movement across the keyboard as you type. “Are you texting Eyebags?” 
“I’m texting Aizawa-sensei,” you correct blithely as a text bubble appears on the bottom left of the screen. “I thought Shinsou was ‘Eyebags’”. 
“They’re interchangeable,” he rebuts. You huff a laugh, screen going dark with a quiet click. Bakugo’s reflection looks back at you where he’s peeking over your shoulder. 
“You two a thing or somethin’?” he asks, not even attempting to hide his interest. 
“We aren’t ‘a thing’,” your fingers form quotation marks around the words. And it’s true. You aren’t. Yet. “I don’t know why you all came to that conclusion”. 
“Probably ‘cause you look at him all googly eyed. And he always shares that shitty jelly with you. Basically his alternative to a proposal,” he smirked. Shouta is still typing—
Your phone vibrates. The message comes through.
—A thumbs up emoji. 
Bakugo laughs. His eyes crinkle. A crease deepens on the bridge of his nose. The brief flash of a toothy grin. No longer a hero-too-soon on two tired feet but instead a teenage boy, poking light fun at his teacher. 
“The hell. He texts like my old man”.
You hum in amusement. “Some people do better face to face,” the ‘like you’ remains unspoken. Shadows pleat across the stairwell as clouds shift, disturbing the dim stream of light. You become conscious of the hour. And it seems so does he. 
“How do you feel about heading back?” 
Bakugo’s stare fixed itself onto his hands. You notice the crescent shaped marks, the skin around his nails fraying, picking at his body like a seam. “I can go back,” he grunts. 
“You can, but do you want to?” you ask, blindly feeling up the strap drawn over your shoulder. The small, glittery claw clip is still there. “Humour me for a sec,” you unclip it and Bakugo frowns as you proffer it to him, rolling in the centre of your palm. “Let it bite you”. 
“Let it bite me?” he repeats dryly. 
“Clip it around your fingers or pinch your hand with it—yeah, like that,” you grin as he blindly follows the instruction. The little claw clip bites into a swathe of the skin from the back of his hand. “Better, right?” 
Lip jutted into a pout, Bakugo eyes the clip dubiously; no longer focused on the anxiety, and you take it as a big win. “I guess. Thanks Sensei,” you tense in surprise as he gets to his feet, dusting off his jeans. “I want to go back,” he says, nothing short of a demand. 
There’s certainly no love lost between you and the cold step under your thighs. You stretch as you stand, shucking the backpack higher up your shoulder. “Alright. Then let’s get you back”. 
Bakugo doesn’t protest when you remain at his side, keeping pace. His finger and thumb work at the clips hinge while he walks, absentmindedly opening, closing, running the teeth over his knuckles. You’re sure Eri would gladly let him keep it. 
Tears are all dried up which Bakugo appears grateful for. The class doesn't immediately rush him, though you can see that they want to. Rather they wait for him to come to them, parting like arms and coaxing him into the centre. 
You branch off to where Shouta is standing watch with Yamada. Eri stands behind his leg, clutching at his pant leg. Her eyes are glassy and wide as she looks up at you. “Bakugo is alright now,” you tell them. “But you know what?”
Eri instinctively pushes up onto the balls of her feet, as though climbing higher to hear a big secret. Lowered into a conspiratorial hush, you say, “I bet he would feel even better if you gave him a hug”.
Shouta’s hand crowns her head. He carefully pats the side of her braid, giving silent permission. Expression tight in a determined pinch Eri ducks between his legs and toddles toward the group. 
“He really doin’ okay?” Yamada quietly asked. 
You murmur an affirmative, shifting in place as you turn to watch the scene unfold. Eri pats Bakugo’s hip. He seems vaguely nervous as he rests on his haunches and allows her to tangle herself around him. 
Shouta’s knuckles knock your own. His fingers twitch, unfurling as though to reach out and then thinking better of it. “Do you think I should talk to him?” 
When you look at him he’s already looking right back. Eyes soft like the sun had made them warm. You mind the small gap and stretch your pinky, brushing the outer curve of his palm and retracting again. “Bakugo respects you. He feels safe with you,” you assure him. “I think it’d be good if you talked”.
“Maybe some extra sessions with Hound Dog, too,” Yamada adds. Your heart staggers, having near forgotten he was there. “For all of them”. 
“I’ll see if he can do another class session during their independent study period,” Shouta says, attention returning to Eri’s antics—she’s now walking Bakugo over, hand in hand, subsequently bringing the other students with her. 
Shouta exhales, clicking his neck. There’s a finality to it. You see the internal headcount he does in their approach, and how the preparation to jump back into action recedes at the confirmation that all his kids are present. 
“We’ve got two options now,” he announces. “I’m sure none of us want to stick around longer than we need to. So either we go up to the food court and eat, or we can head back to campus”. 
Mutterings break out amongst the group. Iida diligently attempts to organise a sensible vote and asks for a show of hands, but his effort is squashed the instant that Kaminari suggests WcDonalds. 
Eri keeps hold of Bakugo's hand the entire way back, and insists on sitting with him. Yamada switches buddy’s without complaint, wiggling himself into the window seat beside Shinsou, happy to pull out his headphones and collect music suggestions from his beloved students. 
Shouta remains at your side. You hear unfettered laughter and think you might be close to tears—the tender kind. Softly, you mumble, “I’m glad I took this job”.  
He exhales slowly, and the loss of tension has him leaning into you ever so slightly. Your shoulders touch. “Me too,” he says. 
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From: [email protected]   To: [email protected]  Cc: [email protected]; [email protected] Subject: Incident report [High importance] Message: 
Good evening,
Attached is my account of the incident that occurred at Musutafu Shopping District on Saturday, [x] September 11:34am. 
Hound Dog and I have also brainstormed a few suggested classroom additions for students coping with anxiety. 
Take care!
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Sleeplessness is an open invitation to overthinking. 
Everyone has since retired to their apartments and it is long past the hour for Eri to be in bed. Time slips through your fingers. You count the dust bunnies behind your eyes but nothing works. 
Clarity shrikes through you with small cuts. The day wears on your body like a bruise that you cannot ignore now the adrenaline has subsided. You’re processing the fleeting touches, the purposeful looks, the whiplash of panic, the heartache that comes with being helpless—
Your mind is a spinning top with no hands to stop it, not even the clocks. Though it falters at a single thought passing overhead.
There is one man you can trust to be awake at this hour. 
You kick off the sheets, unsteady as you nudge each foot into the wrong slipper. The dormitory is cast in shadow. Your eyes are slow to adjust, shapes and lines sharpening around you. 
Shouta is seated at the kitchen island, dark space doused in the low lighting from the stovetop hood, warm across the contours of his face. Papers are laid out before him in organised piles. 
“Burning the midnight oil?” 
A pen spins around his thumb. He peeks through dark hair curtaining his vision and hums. Your gait is heavy, like wading through waist high water. The quiet clink of melting ice draws your attention to his glass. “I didn’t take you for a gin and tonic kinda guy,” you murmur, leaning your elbows onto the counter. “Regular old sake, maybe”.
The corner of his mouth twitches and he takes a pointed swig of his drink. He smacks his lips. “Gin and tonic keeps me awake,” he explains dryly, nudging the glass in your direction. You fold to his soft suggestion and bring it to your nose. The smell alone is enough to make you shiver. 
Shouta laughs at your grimace. At that point you sense in your gut that maybe, maybe you should have stayed in bed. You’re warm, pleasantly sleepy, and your tongue feels dangerously loose. 
Seeking distraction, your gaze drops to the papers stacked before him. You set down the gin, beaded condensation wet around your fingers, and lean in for a closer look. The grade written at the top is worryingly low. “That’s… not looking so good,” you prompted. 
“This is Todoroki’s,” Shouta clarifies, brow pinched. He gives an empathetic nod to your wide eyed stare. From reading their files you knew Todoroki consistently ranked top five in class A.  “It’s not just him. They’re all struggling in different areas. And I was never expecting things to go back to normal but it’s…” 
“You’re doing what you can,” you say. 
Shouta clicks his tongue, “But is that enough?” 
You cover his hand without thought, thumb outlining the rough dips and peaks of his knuckles as you insist, “Yes. I believe it’s enough”. Somewhere in the spaces between seconds Shouta overturns his wrist, and your fingers are intertwined, and you’re squeezing until your palms kiss. 
You think of that heavy coat Yagi referenced. Of a man wearing his failures as self imposed repentance. “You aren’t the only one here helping them. We’re going to get them across this bridge, and then the next, and the next—” Shouta turns a cheek to hide his amusement as your rambling becomes more exaggerated. 
“You’ll never be rid of them. Not even after they graduate”. You smile softly, “The kids are gonna be alright, Aizawa”. 
Dark eyes smile back, “…You did good today, you know”.
Hundreds of butterflies hatch inside your stomach. “I—I did?”
He huffs at that, wetting his lips. “You’re impossible”.
Something unspoken weaves into the atmosphere—the attraction between you becomes a tangible thread before either of you speak another word. He’s much closer. Every movement he has made you’ve mirrored without meaning to. 
“Impossible?” you repeat, hushed.
He pitches his voice low and says, “I thought I told you to call me Shouta”. 
At what point had you settled into the cradle of his thighs? Your breath catches. Two hands are on your hips, soft flesh yielding under his thumbs as they massage shapes from memory. You clutch at broad shoulders and exhale, settling into the hold and surrendering yourself.
“Shouta,” you echo, charmingly dumbfounded. 
Gentle, Shouta takes your chin and turns you toward him. A large, rough palm cups your cheek. He brings your forehead against his, close enough to hear his breath falter. The air is clammy. Taut, primed to break with another tilt of your head, and he must sense it. There’s trepidation—hesitance to handle something as tender as this when the things he knows best are animosity and bloodshed.
You offer mercy in taking the lead. Your hands slip from his shoulders to his jaw. Shouta lets himself be guided into your magnetism, a contented hum rippling in his throat like the water of a wellspring. 
He kisses you deeply and it feels four weeks too late. It feels like muscle memory. It feels like something you’ve done a thousand times over. Those hands circle around your waist, splayed at the lower back, heat radiating through your shirt. Lips part at the light swipe of his tongue. You taste the faint notes of citrus and juniper, coaxing him into your mouth, swallowing a soft groan. 
Heat flashes through you. Familiar want is coiling low in your belly, so stark that you shake with it. Hands wander. Lips too. Shouta kisses across your cheeks, nipping the delicate line of your jaw. Stubble tickles your throat. He mouths at your pulse and pulls you impossibly close, a desperate edge to it as though he were making up for all the times he wanted to but couldn’t. He outlines a topographical map of your figure, fingers walking the bumps, curves and dimples, tentatively slipping up your shirt to reach your soft stomach. 
The hair along your arms stands on end. Fingertips climb higher toward your chest, and a heart that threatens to leap right out through your ribs. “Aizawa, we can’t—”
“Shouta,” he mutters, continuing his path down your collar. You shudder and his fingers flex, sensing the aftershocks of his touch. 
“Shouta,” you amend breathlessly. “We can’t have sex in the common area”. 
A rare clemency follows. Shouta stops, and your hands come to thread through his hair. Dull stubble tickles the dip of your collarbone. You feel his lips stretch thin into a smirk. 
He leans back to look up and doesn’t take his eyes off you. Half lidded and soft, wrapping you in a gauzy roseate veil that hems the whole world pink. Something about the surety of his desire stunned you. To be wanted by a man who always seemed above such things—it makes your chest pound and your face warm, exhilaration spreading to the very tips of your fingers, restless with the urge to touch him. 
“Who said anything about sex?” he asks, tenor low and deeply amused. It seems any mercy from him ended there. 
“So now you can play dumb?” you mumble, an indignant exhale puffing through your nose. You feel him twitch, heat seeping through the thin fabric. “As if you were going to stop there”.
Shouta merely gives you a crooked grin. The scar tissue around his eye wrinkles. You find him unfairly, preternaturally handsome. You like him so much you’re dizzy with it. 
All at once you are torn apart. Shouta has pushed you into the adjacent seat and turned back to his papers. An ephemeral dread rushes through you—immediately washed away by the sound of a door opening. Two familiar voices follow. 
“I bet he’s somewhere down here,” Yagi whispers. He turns the corner into the kitchen, awkwardly bent to hold a small hand. Swimming in her sleep shirt, Eri shuffled in beside him barefoot and rubbing the sleep from her eye. 
“Look, see. And even…” Yagi’s eyes widened as he spoke your name. They flickered over your dishevelled state and then to Shouta, who is equally unkempt. Luckily for him that is nothing suspicious. You, however—
“I’m here Eri-bug,” Shouta says. His clothes have been smoothed out, hair tucked back over his ears, expression soft and unruffled as he crouched to her height. She stops short of him, laying her palm over his outstretched hand. 
“Did you have a bad dream?” he quietly asks. Eri shifts in place and nods. You look away from their vulnerable moment with instantaneous regret. Yagi meets your gaze, freezing mid step as he backs out, brows arched high on his forehead. There’s a slight blush around his ears. You grimace. He absolutely knows. 
Something small clutches at your shirt sleeve and tugs. The yellow ochre of light dances in Eri’s big red eyes as she studies you from the security of her father’s arms. “Hi there Eri,” you murmur gently. “Are you okay?” 
Her grip doesn’t loosen. She blinks long and slow, “Did you have a bad dream too?” 
Shouta adjusts her on his hip but says nothing. Behind the nonchalant veil lies fond amusement and warmth. “…Not a bad dream,” you tell her. “I couldn’t sleep because I was worrying a lot. But I’m feeling better now”.
A sleepy smile stretches across her lips. Eri is seemingly satisfied by your answer but not by the distance. Without ceremony she leans away from her father’s embrace into your own. You make a short noise of surprise as she wraps her legs around your middle. 
The weight is oddly comforting. You run a hand down her back, “Eri…?” 
“Bed now,” she slurs, rubbing the swell of her cheek against your shoulder. “Sleep safe”.
Shouta moves closer. There’s something in his gaze that makes your throat dry. You’re not sure what he’s seeing. What it is he has been seeing in you all this time—
“You heard her,” he pressed a kiss to Eri’s hair, then turned to kiss your temple. He lingers, and each word leaves another. “Let’s go to bed. We’re alright now”. 
—You can only assume, like for you, it is everything. 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
From: [email protected]  To: [email protected] Subject: [High importance] Message:  Good morning!
I heard the news and thought it important that you’re reminded of UA’s relationship policies:
There are none! Ha ha! Did you panic?
Much happiness to you both. It is always a pleasure to see love blossom.
Kind regards,
Nedzu Principal of UA High School  〒123-4567 Ōikuyō, Shizuoka, Musutafu.  Go Beyond, Plus Ultra!
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1K notes · View notes
aclowntiny · 1 year
Note
HIIIIII [first I wanna say that I love your work so much and am so happy to meet an atiny/carat writer! I hope we can become moots!]
I do have a request and it is: ateez reacting to s.o kissing their neck
take your time, and good luck with all of ur work, fighting!!
YES WE SO CAN!!! 🥰 Thank you so much for the encouragement love! I hope you love this reaction 😊
Ateez Reaction to S/O Kissing Their Neck
I'll give this my classic rating but up it for this one… 🤏🏻🤏🏻 suggestive hehe 👀👀👀
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Hongjoong
You couldn't take the way his eyes devoured you, treasured you, any more. Inhaling, you quickly shut the space between you and Hongjoong, all the lightning tension between you arcing into your joined lips as his grip on your hip tightened. It was a short but passionate kiss, one that had Hongjoong giving you a smile of pleasant surprise afterward.
"Oh?"
"Yep," you replied, "and I'm just getting started."
Pecking his lips several times, you migrated from their softness to trace the beautiful structure of his face, outlining his cheekbone and down to his jaw with your lips.
He gave an exasperated chuckle. "I'm supposed to be the one spoiling you," he said even as he tilted his head to grant you access, smiling impishly down at you.
"Maybe I get something out of this, too," you teased back, kisses resuming in full swing, this time down his neck and into the territory availed to you by his partially-unbuttoned shirt.
"Alright, but anything you're giving me, I'm going to pay back double," Hongjoong tells you with a grin that sends shivers down your spine as you part from his chest to gaze at him.
"H-how are you going to do that?" You faltered slightly underneath that intense gaze you loved so much.
"Let's just say," his lips curl up even further, the hand on your hip drawing light circles, "by the time I'm done, everyone will know you're mine."
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Seonghwa
Seonghwa is in the kitchen standing over a mixing bowl of batter when he feels arms snake around his waist and lips against his neck.
He giggles deeply. "That better be (y/n)," he teases.
Your hands nudge his sides, prompting him to set the spoon in his hand down and turn to face you, smiling at the loving expression on your face. His hands wrap around you, too, both of you standing in an embrace against the counter.
“It’s my lucky day,” he keeps joking, leaning down to brush your nose with his, “it is you. My (y/n).”
You smile at the pet name, moving your hands to fall around his neck, which you press one more quick kiss to. “Always.”
He leans down, kisses your forehead first before moving to your cheek, then pecking your lips several times, smiling and exhaling little chuckles against them as you leaned forward for more.
“I have to finish up here! Want to help me?”
You nod, lowering your hands to back hug him again.
“Alright,” he shakes his head fondly at your clinginess, “help me stir, then the real work begins.” He reaches to his waist, taking hold of your hands, placing the spoon in your dominant one and using it to mix the batter as he kept seasoning it.
After that, you dedicated yourself to actual tasks, but each time you passed Seonghwa by, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks or neck, enjoying the surprise and wide, almost childlike smile of joy that crossed his face every single time.
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Yunho
It's not like you don't want to do it, frankly, but you mainly want to get Yunho's attention. You're sinking into couch cushions, sunlight lazily filters through the blinds, and Yunho is playing some video game or another. You stopped paying attention, instead visually tracing his focused side profile, eyes drinking in every shift and narrow of his own, the way his thumbs dart over the controller.
Watching your boyfriend play doesn’t bother you, but you are getting a bit bored. He isn’t always granted a surplus of free time, after all, & the most selfish voice of your mind is vying for the argument that he should spend it with you. Instead of whining, though, which you have the sense to realize no one enjoys, you simply scoot in closer, cushions creaking faintly beneath you, and gently run your fingers over Yunho’s jawline, pulling close enough to press your lips to his neck. As badly as you want his lips on yours, interrupting a man’s game is never a good idea.
He tenses a bit beneath your touch, breaths coming a little faster. “Wh- what are you doing?” He asks.
You press a few more kisses, moving a bit lower each time. “I don’t know, you’re playing your game, I just want to appreciate you.”
“Maybe when I’m done with this round-”
“Maybe when you’re done with this round…”
You both spoke at the same time. Giggling into his neck, you get closer still, legs pressed against his as he gave a few giggles of his own.
“Maybe what?” You ask, tilting your head so that he’s almost forced to face you.
“Just wait and see,” he smiles, leaning forward to place a quick peck to your lips before his focus returns to the screen.
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Yeosang
You and Yeosang were on the couch, both of you on your backs, your head resting over his heart. Neither of you had spoken for a bit, just enjoying the small sunbeams filtering in through the window as you played gently with Yeosang’s hand that was slung over you.
On a whim you turned slightly, careful that your hip wouldn’t dig into him, and leaned up just a little bit higher, your head reaching the crook of Yesosang’s neck. Your lips fell into place, ghosting over his skin at first, but when you felt him shift a bit beneath you, clearly starting a little at the sudden warmth, it spurred you on.
This time, you kissed him unabashedly, giving the exposed skin long, slow appreciation. Drawing out every motion you possibly could. Your hand that was playing with his gave it a little squeeze.
“What’s this?” Yeosang asks, eyes wide and sounding a bit flustered.
You can’t help but giggle at the pure and wholesome man you love so much. “You mean you don’t know?” You reply.
“Well, ah, I mean…” He stutters as you place the longest, most lingering kiss yet at the very base of his throat, a small gasp escaping with the trailed-off words.
You lift yourself up on your elbows, pulling up still so your heads are in line and sparing your boyfriend, just rubbing your noses together with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, starting to lay back down, but his hand catches yours.
“No,” he says, gaze following yours down, “please continue.”
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San
“Sannie, no!” You giggle, running away from your boyfriend, with whom you are currently locked in a playful chase along the grass.
He’s proudly brandishing a water gun, smug grin more than evident on his face as he barrels toward you. “Sannie, yes!”
“No!” You exclaim, turning on your heels and running around a garden wall, stopping to catch a few shaking, laughing breaths.
You’d tossed a water balloon at him, your entire arsenal, and now San sees fit to get you back for it. His revenge is quite disproportionate in your eyes, for even with as warm as it was you aren’t exactly in the mood to get soaked.
San is close; the grass rustles and he whispers “I’m gonna get you!”
“Not today!” You shout back, peeling out from around the wall and back towards those of the house, bare feet padding against the soft green grass.
San quickly catches up, giggling as he backs you into a corner, raising the blue and green plastic abomination in his hand. It’s going to take a massive trump card to escape this one…or maybe you’re overthinking it.
Stepping forward in the little space you have left, you reach your arms around San, hands gently running up and down his back. His smug expression immediately begins softening, the gorgeous soft eyes you love on him starting to pop out. With a smile, you lean in to give his neck a few kisses, feeling him crane to open up more as you do so. He’s warm beneath your touch, pulse pounding from all the running; you kiss right over the pulse point, wondering if you can make it go even faster.
Before you can wonder much more San is sweeping you into his arms, booping your nose and telling you how cute you are before yanking you into his lips. One hand holds you, the other reaches up into your hair, and as your lips move against his you slide San’s offending water rifle closer to you with your foot, stepping down on it as hard as you can. San trails kisses of his own down your neck before peppering your cheeks, expression melting at the fact that you initiated affection.
When you finally separate, San ruffles your hair and giggles. You step back a bit, holding up your contraband water rifle. “So, truce then?”
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Mingi
"I can be cool!" You protested against Mingi's teasing. You know he thinks you're the coolest person alive, but you and your boyfriend had gotten into a playful debate on if you could be a rapper.
"Oh, yeah? Prove it, then," Mingi shot back with a grin.
"Ok, fine," you all but pouted, "I will."
Giving him a light shove, you watched him stumble back a little, taking the opportunity to lead him a couple more steps until his back hit the wall. Leaning forward, you rested your left palm against it at his side, eyes traveling up to his in the best approximation of the classic pose as you could attempt. Mingi's jaw dropped a bit, raising the corners of your lips in a satisfied smile. You leaned up and placed a kiss to his neck.
"See? I can do the bad boy pose. I'm cool," you say as you start to walk off.
Mingi's hand catches your left hand as it peels from the wall, though, and you feel the tug, turning back to face him with a tilt of your head. He's looking at you with doe eyes, his buggy expression of surprise fading to affection.
"You are cool, but don't take my job," he says.
You giggle, and he reels you back into his chest, your hand falling there as his that isn't holding yours rests on your back, bringing you forward into an electrifying kiss. You feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, the way his hand lightly squeezes and plays with yours as your lips move in sync. You trap Mingi again as he pulls away, this time not against the wall, but with his forehead against yours.
"You have nothing to worry about, my cool guy."
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Wooyoung
It was all impulse, really. Wooyoung was teaching you a couples’ dance he wanted to try, and frankly it was quite…intimate. A bit Latin-inspired, it had some close moves that reminded you of the tango followed by him pulling you close. When he did that, he also rolled his head back, exposing the skin of his neck and making that much more of a show from his quite notably unbuttoned black shirt.
Wooyoung viewed his body as part of the art and you couldn’t help but agree. The third time you practiced getting swept into his arms, his head rolling away as you were held against the warmth of his chest, his heart hammering beneath you, you leaned forward, your lips finding his throat like they were magnetized there.
You felt him give a deep hum beneath you as he, rather than step into the sequence's next move, immediately slid both of his hands to be flush around your waist. When you pulled away slightly, Wooyoung attacked, his own lips latching onto the spot above your collarbone. His hips angled, drifting forward until they were fully flush against yours.
"So this is what you want, huh?"
"Well," you teased, voice low as Wooyoung’s lips traveled down and then back up, “seems like you do too."
"Of course," he agreed as he trailed kisses up your neck and to your cheek, "why would I not?"
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Jongho
It was one of your greatest joys in life to have such a sensible, loving boyfriend at your side. However, he wasn’t the most into physical touch, at least not nearly as much as you were. Sometimes Jongho just needed some encouragement.
He lay at your side, half under the sheets and half out, just plaintively staring at the ceiling as he rested on his back, not one part of him touching you. You felt your lips fall into a pout, wishing he would cuddle with you now that your bedtime conversation had ceased, dreamy words subsiding in favor of that near-sleep contemplative state.
You knew part of it was that he didn’t want to overstep boundaries, didn’t want to disturb you. But if that was the case, you considered as you shifted in the sheets, mattress creaking a bit beneath your motion, it was your job to show him he would not be disturbing you in the slightest. And you knew exactly what would flip Jongho’s affection switch.
Scooting closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, snuggling into his neck and kissing him before he could protest or question the sudden gesture. Sure enough, you felt Jongho relax, firm muscles melting still after a momentary freeze. As you nuzzled in, lips still traveling, he tilted his head, giving you greater access, and you smiled. Jackpot.
Jongho loved it when you kissed his neck, and you sure didn't mind taking advantage of that fact, especially right then. He flipped over from his back to his side, suddenly facing you, those big beautiful eyes you loved staring intently.
"Why this all of a sudden?"
"Because I love you," you replied, eyelashes fluttering.
"Well, let me return the favor, too," he told you, propping his head up with one hand.
You couldn't resist a smile as he pulled you closer.
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Text
Writeblr intro post
So yeah when I first came here I didn't know this was a thing so I've been working on this in the background. Now that it won the poll, I'm making it now!
I'm going to edit this post as I go so it has more links as I make posts about my WIPs!
About Me
Hi. Call me Kaylin. It's a pen name but I like it. (Some people are just finding out this isn't my real name and y'all should've read the bio)
I'm an education major and do writing on the side and it's a huge passion of mine (hence why I want to teach literacy)
Asexual demiromantic sapphic (she/her) currently in a relationship - (I am comfortable within reason to talk about my experiences)
Love ask games and tag games and generally interacting with others
Love reblogging mutuals' writing talking about WIPs!
21+ but my WIPs are YA - I don't usually reblog anything with a mature community label (sorry in advance for mutuals who do), but when I do I mark it 18+ and I try to label content warnings (LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING)
I'm an educator by heart so I love giving feedback, know a lot about kids, and of course education psychology and theory
I have minor scoliosis, early start of arthritis in my hands, and chronic headaches and migraines attacks in control with medication if anyone needs to ask me about these experiences for writing purposes. I also occasionally use a cane due to knee pain from an injury.
I have an ultimate get to know me game here if you want to check that out
My asks are always open! Feel free to stop in whenever you want!
My WIPs
The Secret Portal
See linked intro post for more detail!
YA sci-fi/fantasy
Planned to be a five book series
Quick version: A bunch of adolescents discover a portal to a dimension populated by people with powers. There's also a war. Yayyy.
The first installment is currently in the process of being read by beta readers. Apply to be one here!
Tagged as #the secret portal, #tsp, or #teaspoon if you want to give it a nickname. #tsp updates and #tsp excerpt are used as well. All characters get their own tag and #alium will be used when talking about my world building
Ask to be added to or removed from the tag list! @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites
@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy
School of the Legends
YA urban fantasy fairy tale retelling
International school for people with gifts (born with), majicks (learn), and curses (given).
Currently in planning stage but five chapters have been written.
No intro post yet but I'm working on it!
Tagged as #school of the legends and #sotl. Also use #sotl updates and #sotl excerpt, though not as often as TSP
Ask to be added to or removed from the tag list! @illarian-rambling
Other Ideas
It Was All Just a Dream - high school senior gets an entire redemption arc via vivid dream
The Emerald of Secrets - temporary title for vague fairy fantasy idea
Perspectives - we watch the same event five times in a row from different perspectives
Eternity - temporary title for a supernatural detective story
The Others - temporary title for a sci-fi apocalypse story
There are more but these are the main ones
What I Post or Reblog
Updates on my writing
Tag games and ask games! I love them dearly but it may take a bit to reply! I have a lot piled up and not all of them are simple. But I will get to them!!
Writing from others
Writing advice
Beta requests, book announcements, and intro posts to help boost!
I try to keep things positive! If I see a negative post about writing I'll usually reblog it with some positive spin. Sorry if that's annoying but it makes me sad that people aren't happy about writing.
I always try to include image IDs to make my blog accessible - if something is incorrect or you have any suggestions for making IDs better let me know!
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iovebarca · 1 month
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The Coin Toss - Pablo Gavi
Authors note: send me some requests!
WC: 1300+
warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, just fluff!
summary: You rely on coin flips to make decisions, leading you to meet Pablo at the park, where you bond over your shared tradition. A coin toss decides on the beginning of a beautiful love story.
Decision-making had always been a daunting task for you. The weight of choosing between two paths, each filled with its own set of uncertainties, often left you paralyzed with indecision. It was during one particularly challenging period in your life that you stumbled upon an unconventional solution, the simple act of flipping a coin.
It started as a whim, a desperate attempt to break free from the cycle of overthinking and second-guessing. One day, faced with a difficult choice, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a coin. With a flick of your thumb, you sent it spinning into the air, leaving its fate to chance.
On this particular day you couldn't decide if you wanted to go to the park or stay in your apartment to study for an upcoming business exam. "Heads, I go to the park," you whispered, the words a silent prayer to the whims of fate.
As the coin arced gracefully through the air, time seemed to slow to a crawl. And then, with a soft clink, it landed in your palm, revealing its verdict. "Heads," you repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Looks like the park it is."
You arrived at the park with a weight on your shoulders, a decision looming in the forefront of your mind. The vast expanse of greenery seemed to beckon you, promising solace and clarity amidst the chaos of life.
As you wandered through the winding paths, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above, you felt the tension begin to ease from your muscles. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers filled the air, carrying with it a sense of tranquility that you desperately needed.
Finally, you found yourself drawn to a secluded bench nestled beneath the shade of a grand oak tree. It seemed to call to you, offering a sanctuary where you could gather your thoughts and find the answers you sought. Only there was a guy sitting on the bench.
Approaching him tentatively, you cleared your throat, your voice betraying the nervousness that churned within you. "Excuse me, do you mind if I join you?"
The stranger looked up, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he offered you a friendly smile. "Not at all," he replied, gesturing to the empty space beside him.
Introductions are made, and you learn his name is Pablo. You chat about inconsequential things at first— the weather, the beauty of the park— but soon the conversation takes an interesting turn.
"So, what brings you to the park today?" Pablo asks, a playful glint in his eyes.
You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts before deciding to share a glimpse of your quirky tradition with the stranger beside you. "Actually, I was going to study for a business exam I have coming up," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement, "but I ended up here instead. You see, I have this odd tradition where I flip a coin to make decisions."
The stranger's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "No way, you too?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. "That's incredible! I can't believe we have the same tradition."
You couldn't help but laugh at the sheer coincidence of it all, feeling a sense of connection growing stronger between you with each passing moment. "It seems like fate brought us together," you remarked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
A playful glint danced in Pablo's eyes as he suggested, "Well, why don't we put our tradition to the test? Make a decision together?" "Sure, I'd love that," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips.
With a grin, Pablo retrieved a coin from his pocket, the sunlight catching its gleaming surface as he held it between his fingers. "Heads, we go for ice cream. Tails, we take a stroll by the lake," he proposed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You watched with bated breath as Pablo flicked the coin into the air, its metallic clang echoing through the quiet park. Time seemed to stand still as it twirled and spun before finally landing in his palm, revealing its verdict.
"Heads!" Pablo exclaimed, a delighted smile spreading across his face. "Looks like we're getting ice cream."
Your heart soared with excitement as you rose from the bench, a sense of adventure coursing through your veins. Together, you set off towards the nearby ice cream parlor, laughter and lighthearted banter filling the air.
The bell above the door chimed cheerfully as you stepped inside, greeted by the tantalizing aroma of freshly made waffle cones and the colorful display of frozen delights. Pablo's eyes sparkled with delight as he scanned the menu, his excitement infectious.
"I can never resist a classic vanilla cone," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
You chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his endearing confession. "I'm a sucker for anything with chocolate." you confessed, feeling a twinge of excitement at the thought of indulging in your favorite flavor.
As you waited for your treats to be prepared, you and Pablo found a cozy corner to sit, the air filled with the hum of conversation and the tantalizing scent of freshly baked waffle cones.
With your ice cream in hand, you and Pablo savored each delicious bite, the sweetness of the frozen treat melting on your tongues. You couldn't help but smile as you watched Pablo's eyes light up with each lick of his cone, his expression one of pure bliss.
As you and Pablo enjoyed your ice cream, there was an undeniable spark between you, an electric energy that seemed to crackle in the air. With each laugh shared and every lingering glance exchanged, the connection between you deepened, igniting a flame that warmed your hearts.
As you continued to chat, the conversation took a more intimate turn, delving into deeper topics that revealed the layers of your personalities. Each revelation felt like a step closer to understanding each other on a profound level, and with every shared moment, the connection between you deepened, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and emotions. It might be weird but you felt like you've known him your whole life.
As the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence, a gentle breeze swept through the park, stirring the leaves of the trees and sending a cascade of golden light dancing across the grass. In that moment of serene tranquility, Pablo's gaze met yours, his eyes soft with an unspoken question.
Without a word, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt the electric thrill of anticipation coursing through you, your senses heightened by the proximity of his presence.
With a tender smile, Pablo's hand brushed against yours, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Is it okay if I...?" he began, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for permission.
Your heart raced in your chest as you nodded, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. "Yes," you breathed, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart.
And then, with a tenderness that took your breath away, Pablo closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was a moment filled with all the sweetness and innocence of a first kiss, a gentle exploration of the newfound feelings that bloomed between you.
As you melted into each other's embrace, lost in the magic of the moment, you knew with absolute certainty that this was just the beginning of a love story that would unfold in the most beautiful of ways. And as you lingered in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of newfound affection, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance encounter that had brought you together.
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dlscenarios · 6 days
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Kiss It Better: Extended Version
Chapter III.
Disclaimer: Spoilers for Valhalla & Tenjiku Arcs. Again, this is cross-posted and I don’t have much experience with writing angst or multi-chapter fics. Feedback is appreciated.
ICYMI -> Chapter I Chapter II
Next Chapter
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The evening started like any other. Despite it being Halloween, you went about your usual routine. Mikey had warned you that his gang would be participating in another brawl and suggested that you stay up late and wait for him or his friends to come brandishing their inevitable injuries. With your schedule cleared, you sat around, waiting for one of the boys to show up at your door.
The sky had turned dark when you finally heard a knock. Racing to the door, you opened it to reveal Manjiro's face covered in blood. You attempted to hide the way your body jolted at the sight of him. While he had come to you with an alarming amount of bruises or bleeding scratches before, this was more than you were used to seeing from him. You didn't know if you should be praying that it was someone else's blood or not.
You quickly ushered him to your bathroom and got out your well-loved first aid kit. After gingerly wiping the bucket of blood off of Mikey's face, you got to work in covering his open wounds with bandages. You were too absorbed in your task that you failed to notice the distant look in his tired eyes or the tight grip he had on something in his fist.
Manjiro was eerily silent this night. Usually, you wouldn't be able to shut him up, but he had yet to say anything since you had greeted him at the door.
When you reached for his hands, prepared to examine his busted knuckles, you finally noticed that he was holding something. You looked up at him, puzzled, before he turned his hand over. Resting in his palm was a beat-up purple omamori. The threads of its casing were frayed, exposing the aged paper's deteriorating edges. You furrowed your brows, confused on why he was carrying it. If it had been for good luck during the fight, he could have kept it in his pocket.
"It's Baji's." His voice was raspy and quiet as he spoke for the first time that night. "He wanted Toman's founders to have it."
"Why? He's a founder too."
Mikey refused to look at you, opting to gaze emptily at the trinket. He gulped before whispering, voice cracking against his will, "Baji's dead."
Your face fell, heart sinking into your stomach as your grip tightened on the bloodied rag in your hand. "...What?"
Manjiro straightened his stance. "Baji left Toman to be a spy. He wanted to protect us. He..." He huffed, "... He killed himself to protect us." He paused to hold up the omamori by its string with a bittersweet smile. "He got this the day we formed Toman. He kept it all these years."
You stared down at the trinket solemnly. Baji was only thirteen years old. He was a child. He had his whole life ahead of him, yet if Mikey was telling the truth, he gave it up for the people he cared about. The thought alone made you sick.
"Baji..." Your lip quivered as you breathed his name. Manjiro watched tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved. Suddenly, you lunged into him, throwing your arms around his torso. Mikey's free hand rested on your back, the one cradling the omamori going limp at his side. He could feel tears of his own threatening to spill but swallowed them down, instead leaning his head into yours, nose in your hair. He could feel you sobbing into his chest, he didn't wish to burden you more. You needed comforting more than he did.
The rest of the night was all too similar to when Shinichiro had died. The only differences were that you were the one crying and Mikey had spent the night at your house. You shared the same bed again, but all that Toman's tough leader could do was lay awake and stare at the ceiling. He briefly glanced to your sleeping form, curled up beside him. Manjiro pursed his lips and rolled onto his other side. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off.
You thought that things would change after losing Baji. You thought that Mikey would take precautions to prevent the unnecessary deaths of anyone else. Unfortunately, you were wrong.
Months passed in the blink of an eye and a new storm had begun to brew. Toman was in the midst of their biggest battle. You weren't aware until it was too late.
You had been at home, lounging around when you received a call from an unknown number. When you answered, the voice of Toman's crybaby — "Takemitchy" as Mikey had called him — rang out. He sounded apprehensive, asking if you could come to the hospital.
"Something happened to Emma..."
He greeted you at the entrance of the floor he had told you to go to.
"Where's Emma?" You panted frantically.
His face dropped, shoulders slack. "I'm sorry..."
You looked passed him to see Manjiro slumped in one of the waiting room chairs. You pushed passed Takemichi and bounded over to your friend, sliding onto your knees before him. "Manjiro!" His face was gaunt as he lifted his head. It was like he was a shell of the boy you had grown so close to, remaining expressionless as you grabbed his hand.
A sudden loud thud caused you to jump and whip around. Draken, Toman's vice captain, had punched the wall he was now facing, balled up fists trembling as he fell to his knees. You knew he had feelings for Emma, you also knew that his feelings were requited. You were the only one Emma could gush to about her brother's best friend, despite how everyone except the pair themselves could see how lovesick they were. Mikey had shared to you how he had dreamed of his sister and best friend getting married and having a family of their own. If only the two would confess.
You turned back to Mikey and gently cupped his face, thumb softly trailing along his cheek. Takemichi approached you, causing you to look up at him.
"Kisaki did it. He killed Emma."
While you didn't know who Kisaki was — you assumed the boys did — why would he kill Emma? She wasn't involved in the gang's drama. The only connection she had to it was being her brother's sister. Was it an attack on Mikey?
Drowning out Takemichi's ramblings of revenge, Mikey's cold hands silently lowered yours from his cheeks. You lifted one up to press a soft kiss to his knuckle. It wouldn't bring back Emma, but you hoped it would at least remind him that you're still by his side. Vacant eyes stared down at you, unblinking as your thumb gently rubbed the top of Manjiro's hand. The room was still aside from the choked sobs from Draken behind you.
With a lack of response from your friend, you turned your head to rest on Mikey's thigh. After getting situated, you tensed at the sudden feel of a hand on your head, their fingers hesitantly fiddling with your hair as you hugged Manjiro's leg.
Manjiro was your best friend, yet here he was with his life falling apart right in front of him. He had lost both of his siblings and one of his closest friends in the span of a few years. The teenager couldn't even breathe without someone he cared about getting ripped away from him. You were starting to feel a little useless. Manjiro trusted you, yet all you could do was sit by and watch haplessly as he decays.
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starburstfloat · 7 months
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TXT The Name Chapter Freefall Analysis: Metaphors, Queer Coding, and Thematic Overtones
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I've written extensively about the thematic overtones and narrative arcs present in TNC Temptation, and I think that going into a Freefall analysis reqires prior knowledge of Temptation, so if you have no context, I'll do my best to fill the gaps (but I still recommend everyone views Temptation through an analytical lens since it has many intriguing themes that set the tone going into this next album).
For some quick context though:
The Name Chapter albums are coming of age stories. When talking about coming of age (which is my main literary pleasure), we typically think about stories that center on protagonists who are shifting from a place of innocence into maturity. Indeed, we witnessed this pipeline in TNC Temptation: our protagonist, navigating the blurry waters between boyhood and adulthood, was still naive and complacent. He got swept away by the devil to a so-called paradise and, over the course of the album, became aware that something about his surroundings was inherently wrong - somehow, along the way, he had been misguided, and it was up to him to leave:
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The album ends when our protagonist chooses to jump into the sky and abandon "paradise" forever, with the weighted knowledge that leaving means there's no coming back. It's a beautiful track that as a stand-alone provides a classic coming of age character arc. As he abandons one world for another, he is faced with a new series of challenges - this is where TNC Temptation ends, and TNC Freefall begins.
Let's take a look at each of the tracks and how they contribute to the character-centered coming of age narration that began in the previous album. As always, my analysis is coming from a literary (might I add queer) lens, which means that I strongly examine lyrics for their thematic and metaphorical interpretations as I would a book. So while I do have some knowledge on TXT's lore, this post is more concerned with the Name Chapter by itself, and not the juxtaposition of all their discography (minus a few connections I will point out). With that in mind, let's dive in~!
The album's name itself sets the stage for quite an adventure: Freefall. In contrast to Temptation, whose title alone suggests an inadvertent pull towards the forbidden and alluring, Freefall suggests an intentional step towards freedom, or at the very least a step towards the lack of its opposition, namely imprisonment or confinement. It's a really clever album title choice, and I wonder if it was intentional that they chose words that have different connotations of passive versus active overtones.
Note how the word temptation feels more passive than the word freefall. The former is something that is done to someone, whereas the latter is something someone does. And what is more coming of age than shifting from passivity into confidence? Is this title truly as cleverly thought out or am I just a semantic nerd? Idk, but it works for me, and I'm eating it up!
First track we have is Growing Pain. There's growing happening, and boy, is there some pain too.
This song feels much more rugged than anything else they've done before, and it definitely captures the intensity of falling from the sky and crashing down to Earth. Where Farewell Neverland was borderline a lullaby, Growing Pain feels like a battle cry. Kai opens with "Been free falling, into the sky", but the word he uses here for sky (허공) also translates into "void", which is quite fitting for the abysmal feeling of the track. The chorus is riddled with sensory language:
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(lyric translations obtained by @translatingTXT on twitter)
This not only emphasizes the harsh descent and the audience's visualization of the fall, but overall sets the tone for the remainder of the album. I find it interesting how most of the lyrics read as commands ("Open your eyes / Look at the ground / Don't avoid it at any cost"). It's like they are guiding the audience to do the same thing, with Soobin even breaking the narrative to use second-person voice ("You just gotta face it").
From a conceptual standpoint, this opening is a powerful first chapter that brings our protagonist back to Earth. He's just had the fall of his life - bleeding, broken bones - and despite this, we get Taehyun affirming "I have no regrets!" The intensity of his pain contributes to our understanding of just how desperate and determined he was. What an opening!
Title tracks are always conceptually the most appealing, and Chasing that Feeling does not disappoint.
Beomgyu's opening lines here are pretty iconic:
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Although this is the official translation, I did want to add a little bit if nuance after looking at the Korean lyrics. He says "천국을 등진 난 / Fall from the sky". The verb 등지다 means "to turn one's back to", and he's conjugated it as an adjective, so more literally he's saying, "I, who has turned his back to heaven, fall from the sky". This means the emphasis lies on the fact that he has fallen from the sky because he has estranged himself from heaven. I hope this isn't getting too technical and boring, but linguistic nuance is important to me, especially when combining it with literary analysis. And, if we're indulging in semantics, allow me to bring up the fact that actively choosing to fall from heaven feels very queer and parallels the queer subtext in 0x1 Lovesong:
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Anyhow, the opening lines in CTF almost read like the SparkNotes version of what we just experienced in Growing Pain LOL it's just our narrator summarizing what happened (he's jumped and fallen, nearly to his death, and has somehow salvaged himself to get up again).
The overall theme of this song is courage. The feeling that they are chasing is courage. And the songwriters sure have a poetic way at capturing what that chase looks like. There's some awesome figurative language in this track. Yeonjun tosses in some similes: "Down to Earth like a meteorite" and "Feels like I'm on fire". You can see and feel all that heat and speed. He even mentions "I prepared to die", which really emphasizes the desperation and passion our protagonist feels. Kai's "My fate, come and kiss me" is a dope line, but I love it even more for its personified language:
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Kai adds -아 at the end of the word Fate, which is used when you're calling out someone's name, hence the personification. I especially appreciate Kai's line "I was lost like a child" because it's clearly a nod to who the protagonist was in Temptation, specifically Devil by the Window and Sugar Rush Ride. He continues with "I finally saw the truth / And I feel so alive". Thematically, this whole album seems to be about finding oneself after a period of being misguided or mistreated. I can imagine this song would be a big comfort to anyone who's experienced abuse…it's about giving yourself permission to leave, igniting that flame of courage to just get up and do it.
The transition into the third song is satisfying.
Some of you may recall I interpreted Back for More as a track that parallels Temptations' Devil by the Window (DBTW) in terms of narrative voice. I still feel this way about the song. It very much reads like the devil who narrated DBTW. Consider the lines "There's a magic to how we living / There's a magic to what this is / It's like a dream and we're both day-tripping". It's reminiscient of the devil urging the boy to fall asleep so he can take him away in DBTW: "Just fall asleep / Sweet dreams / You can't get off this ride", but with Back for More it sounds like the devil is now trying to convince the protagonist to stay.
The voice also turns rather caustic, which leads me further to believe it's the devil narrating:
"All I know is if you walk away / There'll be something / There'll be things you can't replace".
Right before the chorus too, there's an added warp effect on Soobin's voice that makes it suddenly deep and contorted, and he says "Baby, that's okay because", and the lines "I can see you coming back for more / If you walk out that door" play. Makes me think that the devil believes the boy will be back to play again. From a narrative choice, this could be one of two things: 1) the audience is supposed to see how disillusioned the devil is, which merely places our protagonist on a pedestal and whose pursuit to leave becomes all the more heroic when juxtaposed to the true intentions of the villain; or 2) it's meant to foreshadow that our protagonist does indeed return - in which case, I'm seated and grabbing my popcorn for the cinematic finale that will be!
The following track Dreamer is a very important track in the album. It's a narrative shift that leads both the audience and the protagonist towards an epiphany. Here, we witness our character reaching a low point in his journey. First, he was living off a high of jumping into the unknown, surviving, and making a declaration to never give up. Now, we witness a trickle of regret:
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But, just before the chorus, a critical scene unfolds: he's hanging his head low, despondent, when suddenly a bright light appears: "On that night when I was only looking at my toes / The brightly shining star / The pouring light".
Bright light has many symbolic connotations in literature. Some lean religious, such as bright light often appearing during moments of divine power. Generally, it is used to convey a moment of wisdom (consider the expression "lightbulb!" when someone has cracked a puzzle).
We quickly learn that this blinding light is in fact a star:
"I finally found it / The star that waited so far away" , to which he further comments "I regained my name".
The star represents a moment of wisdom, of recognition - he finally realizes who he is and what he wants. Now, I don't know about you, but with an entire album series titled The Name Chapter, mentioning names seems pretty freaking important! He hints why he suddenly remembers his name in the following line:
"I'm a dreamer with memories of stars". This is a direct reference to their 2019 track Nap of a Star, which features lyrics like:
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This makes me believe Dreamer is about coming back to one's childhood dreams. Our protagonist was so caught up in temptation that he lost his way, and now that he's run away from that world, he's grown despondent thinking he has nothing concrete that he's really chasing. That is until he remembers his childhood dreams.
I like how in traditional coming of age stories it's about leaving your childhood and entering maturity. Adulthood is the end-all, be-all. However, this album's story looks to childhood as the answer. It give us a boy who gets swept into adulthood, seeks to pave his own way, untainted by false promises, and among his tumultuous journey, he realizes the answer lay within himself all along - he merely needed to give his inner child the courage to be the person he always dreamed about.
This sentiment is reinforced by Soobin saying that he now feels like "a new born child".
The entire song feels like a comforting lullaby. Very much the older sister version of Nap of a Star, which is beautiful no matter how you think about :')
Yeonjun ends the song with a whisper of "Let me break it down for you", which suggests we're about to get a flashback or some sort of background context going into the next track, which (spoilers!) we very much do.
If Dreamer is about coming face to face with one's childhood self, and the dreams we'd long forgotten about, Deep Down is about uncoiling all the layers of shame that lie within that same child.
Yeonjun starts Deep Down with a reference to Crown, their debut song:
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Crown is about a boy who one day woke up with horns growing on his head, and how he emotionally dealt with that sudden physical anomaly. This shame is evidently still ligering, as Beomgyu points out: "Even if I try to run away endlessly, I eventually just run into myself and that thorn" and later again "I tried running away and ignoring it / But fate is so cruel". This suggests that he never fully got over the shame of feeling different - he merely pushed it deep down. However, Kai sparks a moment of change: "Right before I break you in the pitch black darkness, I realize / There is no me without you".
I find it interesting how they've chosen to personify the thorns, calling it "you" (in Korean as well, not just the translation). It humanizes the thorns, no longer making them something abhorrent or disgusting, but something that merely exists, and something they can talk to.
The pre-chorus is very touching, navigating a protagonist who grows to accept himself: "Tell me / The difference was me, right? / So deep down, I need you more / Now I see what I can see / It's a crown / It makes me shine"
Deep Down is about meeting shame head on and encouraging your childhood self to embrace who you always were, without a need to hide anymore.
I don't think anyone needs my help interpreting this when I say this song is for the gays and the neurodivergents. For the people who noticed very early that they did not fit in, and tried so hard to hide what they interpreted as a disgusting or humiliating piece of themselves.
(Closeted besties make some noise lol)
And can we take a moment to appreciate how beautiful it is when our protagonist chooses to accept himself? Literal tears in my eyes when Kai and Taehyun say:
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Need I say more than I tear up listening to this song everytime? Oh wait, this is an analysis post and not a diary entry, SO - in terms of the narrative arc, we're halfway through the album and have reached a major internal shift, which means things can only go up from here! Let's take a look at the next track, Happily Ever After.
Confronting your childhood self also means dismantling a lot of unrealistic childhood visions, one of which is the false idea of "and they lived happily ever after". Here, TXT address the naive vision they had that life would be smooth sailing once they overcame some trials. Our protagonist, initially a little winded and disappointed that the classic fairytale ending isn't what adulthood is like, chooses to take this newfound realization with a swing of optimism:
"Wow, the unknown end makes my life more beautiful"
I love how this song is the most childish sounding off the album, with repetitive cute choruses of "la la las" reminiscient of school children singing a tune, yet somehow it's one of the more mature ones.
While Happily Ever After is about embracing the spontaneity that life throws us, and finding fun among the chaos, the following track Skipping stones is the more reflective and allegorical of the two. I consider Skipping Stones to be the end of the concept album, because Blue Spring was intended as a fan song, and Do It Like That was just added for…well, vibes? LOL
The idea behind Skipping Stones is that water is still until it gets hit. Like skipping a stone, there will be ripples created by an impact, but the water always evens out again: "The water that swallowed scars will become calm someday"
Soobin explained it well on Eunchae's Diary show (I would add screenshots but I've maxed out on images).
Our protagonist encourages us to see that comfort is found in considering the bigger picture of life: it's not about pushing through a single storm, but rather seeing that everything evens out and calms again in the long-term. The audience affirms this through the song's repetitive reminder that we will handle any difficulty "Just like always / Just like you always have (done) "
There's a sense of confidence that parallels the ending we got in Temptation with Farewell Neverland - the self-assuredness that no matter what happens, he will be okay, because he is making a choice on his own volition. But compared to Farewell Neverland, which centers so strongly on the emotional choice to leave Neverland, Skipping Stones feels more like an invigorating and supportive friend encouraging you to try and see their outlook on life. It's very much a song that breaks the fourth wall of the previous narrative since it uses the second-person voice a few times, directly saying "you" to call upon the listeners.
It's a touching song, and a satisfying way to conclude this part of the protagonist's journey. Will there be another album in The Name Chapter, despite him having found his name now? I feel like there's still room for conflict and growth, and I am ready to dig it all up whenever the next comeback comes around.
Overall, Freefall is a satisfying followup to Temptation, which felt pretty unbeatable in terms of a conceptual album storyline, and which I still say purely from a conceptual standpoint is a step above Freefall (sonically though I find FF to be superior).
Freefall shares Temptation's sense of impulse, but now it's more grounded in maturity. Temptation introduced us to a boy who blindly followed desire; now, he chases what he truly desires on his own volition, and encourages us to do the same. It has moments of exhilration, passion, resilience, and a few queer-coded epiphanies along the way, which is all your girl could ask for.
What are your thoughts on the album from a narrative / conceptual perspective? Do you think we'll see more from The Name Chapter, or was this TXT's way to close the entire TXT lore and start comething complertely new? Let me know, and as always thanks for reading this far :D
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Welcome weebs and friends
What is this blog?
Inspired by similar blogs, the purpose of this account is to ask Tumblr which anime they have seen or not using polls.
Posting a mix of top rated anime + YOUR suggestions ✨ Read more below the cut
Check tags on this post for easy access/filtering !
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I will start with the Top 100 anime as listed on Anilist, ranked by average score, and working my way down. From that list I will exclude movies (there's a blog for that!), specials, music, and OVA when relevant.
Alongside that, I will take requests via ask ! Just check in the top 100 first :)
Disclaimer : this blog has a purely informative purpose, and I do not endorse in any way the content of featured animes. Watch at your own discretion.
Content
To avoid being redundant, multiple seasons of the same anime will be grouped into a single poll, with one option for each season/named arc. I will not include animes that are still airing, and wait for later.
Each post will contain a poll with the following options :
I've never heard of this anime
No (I have not seen this anime)
Up to season [number / name of season]
Partially (for 1-season animes)
Yes (I completed this anime)
When I feel this is necessary, I will include content warning for the show. You are strongly encouraged to do your own research before watching anything, see below.
Tags will include various things such as dates, name in various languages, AL rating, genre... idk I'll see! I love tagging so feel free to send requests
FAQ
Can I recommend multiple animes ? Yes ! I would prefer if you send one ask for each though, it makes it easier for me to manage.
How do I know if something was submitted already ? I have a Kanban board with all the backlog, you can have a look there
What is your pp/header ? They're both from The Apothecary Diaries ! I'll change from time to time with stuff I watch and like
Can you recommend me something to watch ? Yes I'd love to !!!! Send me an ask or a DM, it might take a bit of time though
Furthermore
To know more about content warnings, you can ask in the comments, or use this crow-sourced website doesthedogdie.com. Keep in mind that you may encounter spoilers. Stay safe uwu
Shameless self-promo : check out my manga/anime sideblog @lost-in-mangaverse ! I don't post much there don't worry
Profile picture by @tatakaeeren ! Support your local gifmakers 💖
Like this blog ? Check out @haveyoureadthismanga-poll @haveyouplayedthisgame-poll @haveyouplayedthisgame-poll, and find many more in the post below !
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aus-from-undertale · 19 days
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HI! I was looking for comic series where Flowey is the protagonist, like Playbacktale. Do you have any suggestions?
I hope you don't mind me asking you this type of question💦 thank you for your time!
Oh boy oh boy!!! These are my favorite type of asks!!!!
Flowey protagonist!
Flowey possesion- if you like playbacktale, definitely recommend this one!
Omega ask blog - Omega flowey was abandoned by the player after a lot of lost fights!
Flowerpot au- flowey post pacifist deserves love!
Flowey is not a good life coach!- indeed
If I may count Flowey as Asriel...
Grown spurt- If I may count Asriel to the flowey list, this is a cute one!
Ask fallen royalty!- after a post pacifist, and everyone came back alive, things are fine right? ....right?
Wouldn't say main character but Flower is definitely a recurring character!
-Name the fallen: papyrus and flowey are going at it again!
-Underbrushed : It's a mix between Undertale and tangled! Flowey takes the Pascal role lol
-Inverted fate: just my favorite au ever. Forever. The current arc focus so much on flowey I love it. But like the whole au is just flowey splattered on it haha
-I would say that most of the aus based on Underfell are on theme (3 first links)
If anyone knows any other aus, feel free to share it too :3
Thank you for the ask 😍
If you want any more recommendations in the future feel free to ask here again! (I went easy on the Asriel and side character flowey cuz that wasn't the focus lmao)
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lewisdeklein · 1 year
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I’ve seen other people make their own MHA x MP100 aus so I thought I’d give it a try, staring with Ritsu and Shou
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I made Ritsu and Shou more or less the main focus, but to be fair it just depends on what part of the story you would want to focus on. Making Mob and Teru apart of class 1A feels like it takes the focus away from Deku so they are both in the year above.
In this AU psychic powers are different from quirks. They existed much longer that quirks and don’t cause someone to have any physical differences than normal people.
Ritsu and Mob’s story is pretty much the same up till the clean up arc. They both live in an area with a low amount of quirks so their story isn’t affected by that much. When Mob finds Ritsu in the ally towards the end of the arc Ritsu agrees to stop what he’s doing but their relationship never really gets repaired in anyway. If anything I could it’s gotten worse. Mob gets into UA by recommend due to having very strong psychic powers. This would make Mob (and Teru) the first quirkless kid to get into UA, not Deku. Ritsu ends up getting into UA due to recommendations as well but has the grades to get in by himself. He becomes a Hero in hopes to be like his brother. Just like how Ritsu wanted powers to stop his brother in mp100, in this au he wants to be a hero to make sure he could stop his brother if he ever got out of control. Ritsu struggles with finding any actual reason for being a hero other than that. It was just mostly expected that he’d be a hero. Ritsu’s hero name is just his name. It’s like how Todoroki used Shoto as his hero name. They both don’t have much creativity
Shou is a bit more different in this AU. Claw still is a thing but it’s much more careful when it comes to exposing their existence. The reason Ritsu never got kidnapped by Koyama was because quirkless areas tend to have more heros. Claw and the League of Villains are friendly with one another due to them both being a potential threat to one another. Both know fighting each other would end in too much lose for both parties but both still believe they are better than the other. Shou, like most kids, wanted to be a hero. Unfortunately for him he would have gotten no quirk but his father told him that he was going to have something much more powerful, psychic powers. Shou’s mother found out that Claw was associated with the League and left. She didn’t take Shou with her because if Claw found them both they’d take Shou back anyway. She was a pro hero but retired after leaving her family since she felt so guilty for abandoning her son. Shou began to grow a resentment toward heros due to his mother leaving. His father put him through training to make sure he could become the perfect little soldier for Claw and perfect heir. Shou hated his father more than he hated heros so he began to plan to take down Claw. He didn’t trust heros so he decided to do it all by himself. Shou got into UA because his father told him to. He is a spy for Claw and the league. One of his jobs is keeping tabs on the kageyama brothers due to their strong abilities and potential. He got in by lying that his quirk was Fire to throw UA off from thinking he was his father’s son. This version of Shou has a more worn out and dark vibe to him due to how much long he’s worked for Claw. His Hero name, Pyro Mask, is actually a hint that he is a psychic. Pyro means fire so Pyro Mask is suggesting that he is using fire as a cover, or mask, for his psychic powers. Also I used pyro instead of Fire because it suggests that he has pyrokinesis, which is a form of psychic powers.
I’ve got hero outfits in the works and Teru and Mob.
I am cringe but I’m free
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BOOK 10: ELYSIAN SIGN UPS
ALRIGHT! I HAVE ENOUGH INTEREST, IT IS TIME!
First off, the outline of everything we will be using in our creation of book 10, or Elysian (Endgame is a great name, but Marvel), as I call it.
Next, everything I'm using in Elysian.
I am also tagging everyone who has helped me come up with ideas, as well as edited, since we share one braincell, and have a lot of similar things.
Sorry for cut it's LONG
@moonlarked
Marellinh
Council gets overthrown
Sophie gets to kill Mr Forkle
Alvar dies in Fitz’s arms
Sophie starts an human outreach program
Jensi remains Talentless and helps other Talentless
Exillium gets to be relevant
Tiertice adopt Tam and Linh and Rayni
Fedex
Ruy appears and does something idk
Trix joins up with the gang
@the-great-gullon-incident
Biana, Stina, and Dex team up
Biana has a sword
Sophie teaches the rest of the keeper gang about lgbtq+ people
Crazy fights
Gethen and Ruy show up to do stuff
They/them Elysian
All the mysteries are finally revealed
@stopstealingtomatoes
Lady Gisela to die
Amy to have a bigger role
Lord Cassius to either formally apologize to Keefe or else shove a stick in it
T h e r a p y
Ships to finally sail
@amandayetagain
Elysian’s big naturals
frognate rings
explicit language
vertina pagetime
more void lore
Sophie strikes out on her own and forms her own group
we learn about Keefe’s human friends
Details on some of the parents top secret missions (mentioned in their unlocked files)
Embarrassing middle name for keefe
foot power
Sophie channels someone’s heart/skull, or uses telekinesis on someone’s neck (it’s them or her friends. And she’s already lost enough.)
Biana and Sophie commit arson again (Neverseen)
@you-have-been-frizzled
JENSI PAGE TIME
the triplets
Kesline
Elwin officially adopting Keefe
Biana kills somebody (can we just bring Vespra back so she can kill her)
Tam gets hurt and Linh goes batshit
Bronte with curly hair
Sophie eats sweet and sour chicken to everyone’s horror
MORE ARSON
Alina redemption arc (literally wouldn’t suggest this but Ciara is the one running it and they’re part of the Alina deserves redemption club)
Dex losing an arm (his name means right handed it’s ironic oaky!)
Tiergan punches Quan song when he tries to say something to the twins
Sandor and Giselle scenes
KESLER AND GRADY BROMANCE I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THEM
Juline and Edaline being sisters
Keefe and Grady bonding
Alvar isn’t dead and gets redemption
Caprice is relevant other than just being the crazy lady
@official-kenralie-fanbase
Sophie loses it during a battle to fulfill the whole "the moonlark could tear this whole place down" thing
Sandor finally has to dance in sparkly pants
Someone punches Alden
Or Cassius
Or both. At the same time.
More of Grady's mesmerizing please and thank you
Gradaline moments
Sophie's dad reveal (maybe do a poll on who people think that should be? I'm hoping for Fintan)
Oralie actually fights in a battle
Someone finds out about Oralie and there's a bunch of drama with all the people
@ever-blaze
more jensi, dex and rayni
jensi not manifesting an ability yet playing more roles in the story (eg. fighting the neverseen with a weapon or something)
keefe and fitz friendship moments/actually being best friends again
MORE OF THE TRIPLETS !!!
more backstories? tinkers maybe?
blur or wraith or tinkers identities
the return of the amazing amy foster
keefe’s human friends (hoping at least one is a celebrity) and human world adventures
------
Next, breaking this up. Anyone can join, I just need people to help organize this, and the plan is we sort it up by character/group, and eventually break it down into chapters, ordered by what would make sense in a basic plot structure. Then we will start figuring out technical things such as who is writing what.
Simply send me an ask or message if you're interested in helping me organize this!
And, if you have any and all suggestions, feel free to tell me!
REBLOGS >>>>>> LIKES
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esperfruit · 20 days
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Welcome to Yu-Gi-Oh! GReduX
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Preface:
Yu-Gi-Oh! GReduX is an idea I first conceived when I was 17 and I decided to revive it.
It’s a sequel to Yu-Gi-Oh! GX that later turns into a sequel to Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V and also is deeply connected to Duel Terminal. As I have a lot going on, I don’t have the time and energy to turn this into a fully-written fanfiction so I am telling the story through blog posts and art. It is still in a very raw state so this pinned post will be updated over time when I have something to add. This post will also only cover the “post GX" section of GReduX, that being Act 1 and 2. Act 3, the post Arc-V and Duel Terminal section that involves time-space travel shenanigans, will receive its own post sooner or later and will be linked to this one.
This project usually uses sub names but I can also use dub names whenever I feel like it.
I will use the tag “ygo gredux” for all posts connected.
Feel free to ask away when you want to know more about GReduX.
Premise:
GReduX starts not long after Judai and the others graduated and a new semester at Duel Academy has begun. One day Principal Samejima calls Professor Chronos into his office, who was accompanied by his younger sister, the nine.year-old Bianca de Medici, as he recently became her legal guardian after their parents died in a house fire one month ago.
Samejima informs Chronos of an exchange program with the new promising duel school, Terminus Academy. The program sends two students and one teacher to the other academy for one year and Samejima suggested sending Chronos, Tyranno Kenzan and Rei Saotome as Duel Academy’s representatives. Kenzan and Rei have already agreed to the program and Chronos was more than eager to teach at this Terminus Academy to show what Duel Academy has to offer as its greatest professor.
Not long as the group of four arrived at Terminus Academy, they met new and old faces and Chronos learned all teachers at this school are people he knew in the past with the principal, Rantaro Yamikage, being an old friend of his. As a sign of their friendship, Rantaro offered Bianca to become a student at Terminus despite her only recently finishing elementary school. Both Chronos and Bianca agreed to that offer with Chronos being excited to teach his beloved sister about the game they are both so passionate about. 
Soon they would have to realize that Terminus Academy is a more than an extraordinary duel school filled with exceptionally powerful duelists in terms of skill and personalities.
The heroine of this story is Bianca de Medici or Bianca Crowler in the dub. A nine-year old girl, who lived in Italy and just recently witnessed her parents burn to death right before her eyes by a serial arsonist. She is now in the care of her older brother Chronos, who she loves and admires dearly but could not see often due to his job at Duel Academy. 
Bianca had never been a social butterfly and preferred talking to her deck than with other humans thanks to being born with autism and the ability to communicate with Duel Monster spirits. She was a model student in terms of grades but never had any human friends and was even bullied by other kids and got frequently in trouble because of her violent outbursts whenever she was being picked on despite being very shy when unprovoked.
At the age of six, she had a dream of being visited by Duel Monster spirits of the Ice Kingdom. The spirits, who she immediately formed a deep connection with, asked if she wanted to be their friend and she agreed without hesitation. They also requested to form a contract with her that asks her to become a powerful duelist with them at her side in exchange for their protection. After the contract was sealed, she woke up with a deck of Duel Monster cards next to her, the Ice Kingdom, and a silver bracelet with an ice blue stone in its center at her right wrist. Ever since, Bianca, a dueling prodigy, has been seeking power alongside her new spirit friends with White Blizzard Dragon as her ace, while finding out what powers lie in the bracelet she received from her otherworldly friends.
At Terminus Academy Bianca starts off as very emotionally stunted and still traumatized from the house fire, developing  pyrophobia as a result. In that state the young child has to prove herself as a powerful duelist and student under a group of teenagers with similar abilities as her. Fortunately the class she attends has a strong sense of unity and she can count on her brother Chronos and her friends from the Ice Kingdom to have her back.
Terminus Academy:
A duel school founded by Rantaro Yamikage one year ago. It’s much smaller than Duel Academy as it has only three classes with 16 students each. It was built as a counter project to Duel Academy as the students wear similar uniforms to DA in black and orange and are not split in different houses but share one huge apartment complex not far away from school as their dormitory.
The purpose of this school is researching young duelists with the power to talk to duel spirits or show the potential to. Every student was scouted by Rantaro himself when he traveled around the world. The students do not have to pay any fees and every cost is covered by the school, they only have to show good results as students in order to stay at the Academy.
Terminus Academy is located in the fictional city of Resort Valley, named after it being a very popular health resort filled with all sorts of places for fun and relaxing activities. Rantaro chose this city as the location so the students would have a healthy and welcoming environment and as an opportunity to perceive other activities outside of school.
The Academy offers everything a school needs to and more with an always clean and safe building, latest equipment, healthy food and a card store with new and old packs so students will always have a chance for good deck building. Terminus also holds various events for their students and helpful courses for them to make their school life educational and fun. Whenever something breaks, it would be repaired or replaced in no time. How a school this small could have such a huge budget even with its undercover funding from Kaiba Corporation is one of its greatest mysteries.
In only one year, Terminus gathered an exceptional positive reputation from students, parents and outsiders alike. A near flawless learning environment, student satisfaction and dueling performance at an all-time high made it become more popular than every of Duel Academy’s branch schools and came to rival DA itself, gaining the attention of many journalists and as well of Industrial Illusions. 
Class 2-C:
The class of sixteen Professor Chronos was assigned to teach over the year:
Bianca de Medici/Bianca Crowler
Tyranno Kenzan/Tyranno Hassleberry
Rei Saotome/Blair Flannigan
Midori Tachibana
Alexander Muller
Hazel Cortex
Lien Cai
Constantin Sokolow
Dejan Kovac
Diana Sergio
Martin Kanou/Marcel Bonaparte
Esra Farhani
Grant O’Brien/Grant Brodie
Jason McConnor
Marlee Reed
List of reference sheets HERE
Every one of them being a very talented duelist in their own right with many of them being able to talk to spirits or awakening to it later. Midori not only being the class representative but also the Academy's head girl. As a group of eccentrics filled with dreams and determination, these teenagers (and that one elementary schooler) are a very chaotic bunch, getting in all sorts of trouble and hijinks. And while having their differences and arguments, they have a very strong sense of unity and stick together through thick and thin as friends, managing to overcome every challenge.
It turns out many of them had forged contracts with their deck just like Bianca did and have gained similar protection. When the world was dragged into Darkness at the end of GX, many students of Terminus, including Class 2-C were unaffected by Darkness as they were put into a safe, dream-like state by their cards where Darkness could not reach them.
While being a member of Class 2-B, the student Nigel Setanta became a part of this group over time thanks to his friendship with Jason.
Staff:
Aside from janitors, cleaning and lunch staff and housekeeper, who runs the card store for both school itself and the dormitory, the Academy has the principal, three teachers and a nurse:
Rantaro Yamikage
Professor Chronos de Medici/Dr. Vellian Crowler
Dr. Kakeru Yamamoto
Napoleon/Jean-Louis Bonaparte
Dr. Dahlia Thorndyke
Currently there is also Asuka Tenjoin/Alexis Rhodes at Terminus for an internship for her goal to become a teacher.
Chronos, Rantaro, Kakeru and Dahlia were close friends during their time at university in Domino City and Rantaro purposefully arranged them being reunited again through hiring Dahlia and Kakeru for his Academy and organizing the exchange program. Napoleon, teacher of Class 2-B, applied for a job as teacher at Terminus shortly after leaving Duel Academy and similar to Bianca, Rantaro offered Martin to become a student as well, Chronos and Napoleon meeting again was a pure, yet ironic coincidence.
Kakeru, teacher of Class 2-A, was Chronos’ best friend during university times and he especially is looking forward to doing everything with his friend again, who had changed a lot since graduation unlike him. This group of educators turns out to be a miniature version of Class 2-C in terms of being chaotic yet sticking together.
Spirit Contracts: 
Duel Monster spirits from another dimension called Duel Terminal, which closely resembles a computer program, have gained the power to transcend into other worlds and can influence them to certain degrees. The most effective method is making contact with humans that show immense potential as duelists and can communicate with them. They then form a Spirit Contract, which allows the spirits to manifest into Duel Monster cards and an item the duelist will always carry with them, be it a bracelet, a pendant or anything else.
With the item at their side, the duelist is under protection of the spirits from Duel Terminal with said protection showing their effects in  many different ways, for example Bianca not being injured by the flames or poisoned by the smoke of the house fire. The Monsters can also become truly tangible in duels with another duelist with a Spirit Contract and cause real damage, which usually only occurs when the duelist is either in danger or loses control over their powers.
If a duelist with a Spirit Contract has become especially powerful, they can be able to perform a “Terminal Draw”, which works similar to a Destiny Draw, in being able to draw a specific card of their deck archetype from their deck in a pinch and when the duelist has reached the absolute height of their strength, the Terminal Draw can even be compared to a Shining Draw. 
The reason the spirits from Duel Terminal are contacting humans is that Duel Terminal became completely jumbled in its own timelines with events being undone or misplaced in time and at worst threats that had have been previously been defeated are suspected to return in even greater and more terrifying capacity that will not only affect Duel Terminal, but every dimension and the only way to bring everything back into order is to cooperate with humans from another world, who can not only help them reclaim their former strength but to surpass it as well.
Rantaro Yamikage, a scientist for Kaiba Corp. at the time, had noticed shifts in time-space caused by Duel Monster spirits influencing the human world in unexpected ways and thus decided that this matter had to be studied at any cost and founded Terminus Academy with the approval and secret funding by Seto Kaiba himself.
Everything went well as expected and Terminus was formed in no time with construction and organization done by Kaiba Corp. and student scouting by Rantaro until one day Rantaro had been contacted by spirits that call themselves the Fabled…
Act 1:
Act 1 covers the first half of the school year with everything and everyone being introduced. It is more on the comedic and slice of life part with the students getting into wacky hijinks that somehow also manage to get the teachers involved. Bianca also learns to open up and become friends with her classmates despite the age gap. Jason becomes friends with Nigel and assimilates him into the chaos of Class 2-C. 
Bianca gains a reputation among the students and proves herself time and time again to be a very powerful duelist with defeating countless of them. Her Ice Kingdom deck, which she is the only owner of in the world, caught the interest of Pegasus J. Crawford, paying Terminus Academy a visit as a result.
He was very fascinated with the students there and decided them to be the test users of the new summoning method Industrial Illusions and Kaiba Corp. had been working on when it was finished, Synchro Summoning.
Bianca had become quite cocky with her winning streak so Midori, the Academy’s strongest duelist also called “The Empress”, decided to humble her by defeating her in a duel in front of the entire school and succeeded at doing so.
At first Bianca took the loss very poorly but with some uplifting from her peers and her spirit partners, she regained her composure and managed to grow even stronger from that experience by learning Fusion Summoning.
After a school trip to Italy for 2-C, Synchro Monsters were finally complete and it was decided that Lien would be the very first person to ever Synchro Summon in an official duel against Bianca. 
Her Flamvell and Neo-Flamvell, who she had a Spirit Contract with, evolved and adapted to Synchro.
In the duel Lien successfully summons the Synchro Monster “Ancient Flamvell Deity” but the duel had to be terminated as all her fire-themed monsters had brought Bianca to a breaking point and she suffered a panic attack from her pyrophobia.
Despite the termination, the test was a success and Synchro Monsters were now ready to be introduced to the world.
Jason and Nigel’s friendship blossomed further and Jason realized thanks to Nigel that he doesn’t have to screw himself over in order to rebel against his parents but can also strive for his own path with the power he has if he finally puts it to use. That resolve evolved the Mist Valley deck he contracted with into Gusto and thus formed a friendly rivalry with Nigel, swearing to surpass Ritual Summon expert one day.
At the end of this half, Bianca is confronted with the arsonist, who killed her and Chronos' parents. To get his hands on the valuable Ice Kingdom cards, he trapped him and Bianca in a life-or-death duel in a burning building with the Laval deck he contracted with. 
Despite being confronted with her fear of fire, the rage of being faced with her parent’s killer took over and she went all out against him, taking him down with her deadliest Fusion Monster, “Glazio, Devil of the Ice Kingdom”, freezing him to death despite his pleas for mercy as the attacks in this duel were real.
Act 2:
Eight months into the exchange program, Principal Samejima agreed to Rantaro’s proposal to hold a tournament between Duel Academy and Terminus Academy at Terminus’ campus, the GX Tournament V2. Students and teachers from both schools face up against each other as well as students from the same school.
Much to Samejima’s dismay, the tournament was being dominated by Terminus with all the best students he ever had had already graduated or are part of the exchange program.
Mysterious incidents seem to occur during the tournament as many of the participants' behavior suddenly began to shift into aggressive and even violent, including Chronos, who almost hit a student from Duel Academy, who tried to steal a deck, if not stopped by Dahlia.
The situation started to get out of control further as more and more duelists turned violent and downright malicious. Said duelists also developed breathing problems, high blood pressure, tearing muscles and chronic migraines. Neither Rantaro nor Samejima were able to provide answers and so Class 2-C including Nigel, Kakeru and Napoleon began to do their own research while Dahlia and Emi Ayukawa/Fonda Fontaine took care of collapsed or contaminated duelists. 
Everyone wonders why Rantaro strictly refuses to stop the tournament at a time like this and with how out-of-character he acts, his warm and welcoming demeanor switching into cold and strict with his kind smile now having something eerie in it.
Bianca gets challenged to a duel by Midori, who had turned violent as well. Bianca had her rematch against The Empress with finally surpassing her with her new Synchro Monster “White Blizzard Impact Dragon”. Midori then collapsed after the duel and was contaminated as well.
When Chronos raised his hand against Bianca when she tried to stop him from hurting another student, Kakaru finally had enough and challenged Chronos to a duel to bring him back to his senses.
Even though Kakeru fought with everything he got, he was crushed under the might of Chronos’ “Ancient Gear Chaos Giant” with whom he severely injured Kakeru with after his victory. 
White Blizzard Dragon told Bianca they were able to witness a dark energy possessing Chronos that forces his Ancient Gears, who he had formed a Spirit Contract with not long ago, to use their powers to harm others.
After Kakeru was hospitalized, Bianca and the others confronted Dahlia, who had been acting suspicious for a while and she finally decided to tell the truth as she can’t bear seeing everyone she cares about getting injured:
There is a supernatural virus going around that infects others through duels. It makes the infected severely violent but also inflicts health issues that are very likely to kill its victim over time and take over their dead body if not treated. The virus is called Evilswarm and was brought in by none other than Principal Rantaro Yamikage.
His goal is to spread Evilswarm as far as possible through GX V2 with his true motives being unknown. He blackmailed Dahlia to turn Evilswarm into a bacterial state and infuse it into his primary test subject, Chronos. Sick of Rantaro’s madness, Dahlia already created an antidote for Evilswarm and it already proved itself as effective as she secretly tested it on Midori, who had been cured but is still bedridden. She tells everyone that the infected need to have the Evilswarm weakened in them before the antidote gets injected or it won’t work. Dahlia also informs Bianca that Chronos might not have much longer to live if he isn’t cured soon with how long he had been infected.
Without any hesitation, Bianca rushed to Chronos and challenged him to a duel to save him. It pushed both of them to their limits and Bianca witnessing her brother's health fail the longer the duel went broke her but she forced herself to keep fighting for his sake. What gave her the final push was hearing the plea of his favorite Ancient Gear Golem, Sirius, to save his life at all cost. Bianca defeats Chronos with the combination of the very first Terminal Draw, a Permanent Spell Card that deals effect damage, two of her Fusion Monsters and White Blizzard Dragon, allowing him to finally receive the antidote and be brought to the infirmary.
It was finally time to grab the problem at its root. While Terminus’ and Duel Academy’s best united to defeat and cure all the infected, Dahlia and Lien confronted Rantaro, who sneaked into Dahlia’s underground lab to destroy the antidote, the recipe to make it and to later kill genius pharmaceutic Dahlia so Evilswarm could never be cured ever again. 
Bianca meanwhile was with her brother at the infirmary, watching over him. When she was suddenly approached by the Ice Kingdom spirits, who told her that Lien’s Flamvell contacted them for immediate assistance because Lien was in huge danger, she rushed to the underground lab as fast as possible, led by her Monsters and followed by Napoleon and Samejima. When she arrived there she saw both Lien and Dahlia laying on the ground, severely injured.
Napoleon and Samejima brought the two of them to the infirmary and gave them the antidote just in case. The infuriated Bianca then confronts Rantaro, who gladly accepts the challenge of Terminus’ new strongest student, saying once someone as powerful as her is infected, he’d be unstoppable.
Before the decisive duel could start, Chronos arrived, dragging himself to the place with his duel vest, still severely weakened. Despite his critical state, he had to help Bianca take down Rantaro no matter what. When being asked by Chronos why he was doing all of this and what happened to his precious and kind friend, Rantaro only gave vague answers but he proved that this good-hearted Rantaro had been gone forever even before the whole exchange program even began.
In this 2 vs 1 duel the de Medici siblings struggled more than ever because of Rantaro’s Fabled cards, which he had artificially modified into the dreadful ArchSeraphim, who all possess downright unfair effects with his Ace Monster being “ArchSeraphim Overlord Abyss Shadow”, a Fusion Monster with 6000 ATK and 6000 DEF that reduces the opponents LP to 1, can only be defeated by Battle with a Fusion Monster and is completely immune to opponent’s card effects.
In this near hopeless situation, Bianca performs a Terminal Draw and Fusion Summons the siblings’ ultimate Monster, Ancient Gear Blizzard Dragon, a combination of both their Aces and reduces Rantaro’s LP to 0 with the help of their Monster’s piercing damage dealing effect and Chronos’ previously set Limiter Removal.
When Rantoro was defeated, he just laughed about the absurdity of his situation and congratulated the siblings and everyone at Terminus for their glorious work, admitting he couldn’t be a prouder principal and that Terminus truly will initiate a new age of dueling. Before Chronos could receive any answers on asking once again how Rantaro turned out that way, a dark energy surrounded the principal, seemingly eating him alive until nothing of him was left.
Bianca could only look at this for a short time until Chronos collapsed thanks to his still critical condition.
The aftermath of the Evilswarm Incident was the cancellation of GX V2 despite Samejima reluctantly admitting that the victor would have definitely been Terminus. Everyone involved was properly treated to make sure Evilswarm was completely eradicated. Terminus Academy had to take care of reparations for the damage caused by Rantato. Dahlia took over the mantle of principal and had to announce that Terminus had to close down for at least one year to take care of financial and legal matters, giving everyone injured during the incident time to recover. The students were allowed to return home during that time or stay at the dormitory.
Rei and Kenzan, returned to Duel Academy, the teacher and two students chosen by Rantaro for the exchange program were taken under custody as it turned out they were spies for Rantaro. Asuka finished her internship and left as well to finish her studies.
The bedridden Chronos and Kakeru made up again and were taken care of by Dahlia, who they forgive for her involvement in Evilswarm as she was forced into it and she did her best to make up for her misdeeds. To their surprise, Chronos was writing a letter of resignation to Duel Academy. When asked about it by Dahlia, Kakeru and Bianca he told them he does that so he can give Dahlia an application to become an official teacher at Terminus after its great re-opening next year.
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moltengoldveins · 2 months
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That TCU post…that is truly one of, if not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen come out of this fandom. I tried my own hand a while back at writing “the dsmp but taken seriously”; gave it a name and a playlist but didn’t really write much before I went back to my other projects. If you ever have the motivation to do more with that outline I’d be honored to be a co-writer or help out in any way, or if you want you could just use my title as a name for the series: A Ballad of Broken Dreams.
holy crap op this is so sweet. Thank you so much. I’m… wow ok. That. Wow. Thank you. That’s legitimately so kind and I’m so glad you enjoyed it XD. Id also Love to see your playlist and your thoughts behind the songs if you’re down?! That sounds awesome :D
funnily enough, I’ve had a drafted outline for this heccin thing running around in my head since the Butcher Army arc. Right around when SAD-ist dropped her animatic, I simultaneously realized ‘oh wow, I Adore this concept’ and ‘oh wow, I Highly doubt the CCs are gonna manage to do this the way I’d want to see it’ and lo and behold: I was correct. So painfully correct. (There were also People Involved whom I had Really Bad Feelings About from very early on that, sure enough, turned out to be exactly what i thought they were, rip) So the Emduo prequels, Icarus heccin Dying, and the end of Axe of Peace have been around for Ages.
I’d honestly love to do more with this concept, (i am designing movie posters as we speak) but due to Chronic Illness Pog I’m in a rather unstable financial situation? And don’t have a ton of free time for art. Any big projects are gonna take a While, or id need to find a way to use it or something adjacent to fund, y’know, Rent. That being said, I’m definitely writing the emduo prequels, both as movie scripts and as novels, as those are the films focused on, yknow, My Bois. I also think it’d be hilarious to release the novels and then the scripts and watch people Loose Their Minds over the ‘inaccurate adaptation >>:(‘
I’d absolutely love to work with other people in the fandom on this stuff, though I’ve never been the best at directly co-writing (my writing method and style is painfully specific (ie needlessly poetic) and I’m very autistic: I don’t like it when people touch that Specific Thing) but literally anything else? Im open ears. I love collabs.
and finally, I adore your name for the series, (excellent word choice there /srs, it fits perfectly with the symbolism of the whole story) and I think it works really Really well for the actual DSMP, but if I’m entirely honest… I’m not sure it fits the TCU? Like genuinely I’m so grateful for the suggestion, I love when people offer ideas and bounce things around like that. But one of the main things I tried to do with this concept was work out how the story could actually end Well. A deep-seated belief in the good-but-fallen nature of man, the importance of hope, and the inevitability of redemption kinda comes part and parcel with the whole Being-A-Christian Thing (if it doesn’t, you’re missing the Whole Point Of The Bible) and while the actual DSMP may have ended in broken dreams… this doesn’t. That was my first thought when writing that outline: This Is Going To End Well. Not for wish-fulfillment reasons, not because I’m naive or I don’t like bad endings, but because fundamentally, everything sad is a lie, and if the story has ended in tragedy, it hasn’t ended yet.
If I had to pick a series name now, I’m not sure what I’d pick. A part of me balks at referencing anything popularized by Our Local Redacted, but ‘unfinished symphony’ wasn’t his in the first place, it was from Hamilton. “The Finished Symphony” has a cool ring to it? I dunno. If anyone else has ideas please feel free to toss them in here aight, I’m not settling on anything for a While.
Anyways, thanks for Ted talking with me, drink water 💜
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Text
Every adaptation has to cut something to make a delicious meal, but that doesn't mean those scraps and cuttings have to go to waste! This archive is meant to serve up jokes, lore, and more from the Dungeon Meshi Manga that didn't make it into the anime.
As this is meant for anime fans, I will be keeping this blog free of manga spoilers as much as possible. Anything that is a spoiler will be tagged "dungeon meshi manga spoilers". Manga fans are welcome to enjoy and suggest things I missed, but please keep spoilers out of the notes for our anime-only companions.
More information is under the cut. Happy eating!
Tagging System
Manga posts will be tagged "manga scraps" and the relevant episode number ("episode 1", "episode 2", etc). Any post with manga spoilers will be tagged "dungeon meshi manga spoilers".
Spoilers
Mentioning characters that haven't been introduced yet, telling people they're wrong about lore that the anime hasn't explained yet, and even just making vague references to future arcs are all examples of spoilers. I'm choosing to be too strict over too lax about this. I will delete any replies that I consider a spoiler, and expect manga fans to keep them out of reblogs. The only exception is on posts I have tagged as spoilers. If you want to talk to me about something that the anime hasn't gotten to yet, send an ask so I can tag it. You're also welcome to come chat spoilers on my main blog hyephyep!
Which version are you using?
I'm using the mangadex translation for my posts. If there's something in a different version that you wanna share, feel free to submit it!
Why is X name spelled wrong?
Early fan translators didn't have any canon translations to draw on, and so had to decide on their own way to spell names. Even when we got our first canon sources, they translated the names differently in some places! So it took a while to figure out what the official spellings were and start using them.
What about the Daydream Hours/Adventurer's Bible?
I will not be pulling from these extras, since we don't know whether or not the anime is going to find a way to fit them in. These sources will both be considered possible spoilers until the anime ends, and so will not be in this archive. I am willing to post bits from extras in the manga novels themselves, so feel free to let me know if I miss any of those!
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jedinerd27 · 2 years
Text
The Moon and The Stars Moon Boys and the Reader  EVEN MORE incorrect quotes:
MASTERLIST
A/n: These help me get ideas while writing, so enjoy
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Steven: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.
Reader: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.
Steven: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??
Reader: Is it working?
Jake in the back ground: neither of these nerds get healthy sleep, fucking academics
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steven: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.
Reader: Marry me.
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Reader: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-
Steven: I wrote you a poem.
Reader, already crying: You did?
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Marc walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Reader, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.
Reader, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)
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Reader: Hey,hun, what do you think it would be like if we had kids?
steven: What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly.
Reader: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? You ever think about it?
steven: Can't really say I have.
Reader: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes.
Marc now fronting: Sorry, Reader. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringing up anybody.
Narrator voice: They eventually had kids, and were named after the children of Cleopatra last queen of Egypt and Marc Antony
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steven: That was so hot, Reader.
Reader: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.
steven: I'm so in love with you.
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Reader and Marc: We have a problem.
Steven: No, YOU have a problem. I have idiots who keeps making them.
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Reader: So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?
Steven: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?
Reader: Yes.
Steven: I'd sleep.
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Reader: Two years ago, I married my best friend.
Reader: Steven and Marc are still mad about it, but me and Layla were drunk and thought it was funny.
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Steven : Where are you going?
Reader: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one!
Marc: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday!
Jake, knowing full well that Marc and Steven got an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*
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Din: i went through an entire character arc during quarantine Din: i became more evil if you’re curious Reader: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Din: i’m going to get worse on purpose
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Reader: You love me, right, Marc? Marc: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it. 
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Din, addressing his siblings: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Reader: But – that’s just a trash can. Din: It sure is!
Ardere:*Muttering about how useless his siblings are as he builds an actual Suggestion box*
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Athena, the reason spiders exists: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated. Jake and Reader: Killed without hesitation. Athena: No.
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Reader: Am I in trouble? Marc: Take a guess. Reader: No? Marc: Take another guess.
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Reader: You're right. Jake: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?
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Jake : Am I going too far? Reader: No, no, no. Baby, You went too far about seven hours ago. Now WE’RE going to prison.
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READER: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume? Jake: *chugs entire bottle* Jake: It’s perfume
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hamliet · 2 years
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Rereading A Storm of Swords
In light of my recent Fire & Blood reread, I decided to reread the whole ASOIAF series because, well, why not. Below are some general observations/musings on the themes, character arcs, alchemy, and foreshadowing. I’ll do this for the others as well. It’s not really a meta proper, so much as observations and thoughts.
Thoughts on A Game of Thrones here and A Clash of Kings here.
Themes
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Duty vs Love
Again, Martin contrasts duty and love. Robb forgives Catelyn for freeing Jaime because "what you did, I know you did for love... Love's not always wise."
Meanwhile, Tywin treats his children as pawns, literally trying to marry them again and telling them they'll do what he tells them because of duty:
"Go," their father said. "We shall talk again after you have composed yourself. Remember your duty."
And Brienne defends Robert by telling Jaime that his rebellion is justified because of love:
"Why is it that no one names Robert oathbreaker? He tore the realm apart, yet I am the one with shit for honor." "Robert did all he did for love."
I don't really have a ton new to say that I didn't already say in my ACOK's post, but again, Martin doesn't seem to see duty/honor and love as actual opposites, but instead suggests there's a balance to be struck. The idea that duty at its most extreme transforms people into things, however, is something I'll talk about more later.
Individuality vs Ideas
Part of the reason ASOAIF is so complex is that it's deconstructing the idea that enemies and villains and "red shirts" are just empty ideas rather than living, breathing people. We have this idea throughout all books, but it's emphasized starting in ASOS:
"Enough." The Hound's face was tight with anger. "You're making noise. These names mean nothing. Who were they?" "People," said Lord Beric. "People great and small, young and old. Good people and bad people, who died on the points of Lannister spears or saw their bellies opened by Lannister swords.
Then we have Jon starting to empathize with the wildlings:
He did not want their friendship, any more than he wanted Ygritte's love. And yet . . . the Thenns spoke the Old Tongue and seldom talked to Jon at all, but it was different with Jarl's raiders, the men who'd climbed the Wall. Jon was coming to know them despite himself: gaunt, quiet Errok and gregarious Grigg the Goat, the boys Quort and Bodger, Hempen Dan the ropemaker. The worst of the lot was Del, a horsefaced youth near Jon's own age, who would talk dreamily of this wildling girl he meant to steal. "She's lucky, like your Ygritte. She's kissed by fire."
Martin also uses this "red shirts" idea to open and close the book in the prologue and epilogue. Chett and Merritt aren't particularly sympathetic characters on the outset, but from being in their mind, even if we see Chett as an incel-esque character and Merritt as a coward, we feel their fear and hopes and self-loathing too. It's impossible not to see them as human, and when they realize they're going to die... well. It leaves us with a strange feeling.
We Are All Just Songs
"We're all just songs in the end. If we are lucky." Oh look, we've got a title drop here! A title drop!
ASOIAF is playing with the ideas of stories. For example, characters like Sansa adore simplistic stories of courtly romances. Arya enjoys badass historical stories. Bran enjoys ghost stories. Daenerys enjoys stories about her family's history.
Well, any wonder each of their stories are deconstructing these ideas?
But Martin isn't saying stories are stupid or bad. If anything, he's saying we need stories. Stories are the ideals that help light our way through messy reality.
True Kings, True Knights
Throughout the first few books, we have Sansa telling us "he was no true knight" about the vile people serving Joffrey. The point isn't to mock Sansa, but instead to deconstruct her ideals. Through Sansa's pure-hearted belief and compassion, even for people like the Hound, they start to change and become more and more knightly.
Please note I'm not saying this is okay or whatever, just saying there is some romantic coding between them even when they're apart in the books. Should Sandor return and meet Sansa again, I would expect it to be a textbook chivalric romance:
a highly conventionalized medieval tradition of love between a knight and a married noblewoman, first developed by the troubadours of southern France and extensively employed in European literature of the time. The love of the knight for his lady was regarded as an ennobling passion and the relationship was typically unconsummated.
The "no true knight" mantra is also picked up this book by Brienne, who inspires similar change in Jaime. It's also repeated by Daenerys, with a twist:
"Some kings make themselves. Robert did." "He was no true king," Dany said scornfully. "He did no justice. Justice . . . that's what kings are for."
Again, I highly doubt we're going for a scorched earth burned ashes deconstruction here, but instead digging to the heart of what this means. What does it mean to be a just ruler for Daenerys? As much as she needs to mature and accept worser parts of herself, much like Sansa and Brienne, her general ideals are not themselves wrong, even if their application in the real world is messier than in songs.
Protecting the Innocent:
We have this theme throughout the story: those who protect the innocent are heroes. We even have this in the lore of the story itself, such as the Knight of the Laughing Tree (who is clearly Lyanna, and the incident clearly jumpstarted her relationship with Rhaegar).
Also, can't believe I have to say this, but in ASOIAF, hurting kids iz bad. It's particularly Bad. It's Bad Bad. (Nota Bene: I do not get how the House of the Dragon fans and even its actors do not get this very basic principle in ASOIAF). In earlier books, we had Ned full of regret for the deaths of Rhaegar's children and fear that Robert would hurt Cersei's. Now in ASOS, Martin hits us with this idea in almost every storyline.
Robb loses a lot of his army to punish someone who murdered two children in revenge for his own children. Oh look, it's almost like ASOIAF doesn't condone "an eye for an eye, a son for a son":
"They died," said Rickard Karstark, yielding no inch of ground. "The Kingslayer cut them down. These two were of his ilk. Only blood can pay for blood." "The blood of children?" Robb pointed at the corpses. "How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires."
Then we have Daenerys and the Unsullied and the children crucified on the way to Meereen. The truly evil idea is seeing kids as a weakness, an idea that makes Dany "feel faint":
"To win his spiked cap, an Unsullied must go to the slave marts with a silver mark, find some wailing newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes. In this way, we make certain that there is no weakness left in them."
Plus, it's stated directly:
Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children."
Then we have Melisandre arguing that hurting children even for the best of intentions is the right thing to do, but the framing of this--through Davos' eyes--tells us this is completely wrong. Even if you lose your army and your life like Robb. Even if you lose everything. It's. Not. Worth. It.
The Lord of Light cherishes the innocent. There is no sacrifice more precious. From his king's blood and his untainted fire, a dragon shall be born.
(Clearly, this also foreshadows the demise of Shireen.)
Again, Davos, one of the most moral characters in this story, tells us directly what we should think:
"...what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" "Everything," said Davos, softly.
This storyline also seems to be combined with Nissa Nissa, even though Nissa Nissa is an adult and not a child, because Azor Ahai has to sacrifice what he loves most. Stannis will sacrifice Shireen, his child, because she's what he loves most, but it won't work. I'd suggest that the idea is less "Stannis just wasn't chosen" and more "don't kill the innocent."
If there is a sacrifice to defeat the Others, I 100% do not see a Nissa Nissa situation happening, but instead a willing self-sacrifice.
Look Back! Look Back!
All of the characters have to look back if they are to go forward, as Daenerys is reminded by Quaithe. The problem is no one's doing that in their quest to look ahead.
Tyrion: "Some part of him had hoped for less indifference. Had hoped, he jeered bitterly, but now you know better, dwarf. Shae is all the love you're ever like to have". He has to face what happened with Tysha, to face the fact that he participated in that and became her monster, to ever be a better man.
Arya needs to face herself as a Stark and as someone who wants a family even more than she thinks she wants to be powerful: "Jaqen was gone, though. He'd left her. Hot Pie left me too, and now Gendry is leaving. Lommy had died, Yoren had died, Syrio Forel had died, even her father had died, and Jaqen had given her a stupid iron penny and vanished."
And Daenerys has to face her father's legacy, and likely will when she accidentally sets off Dear Old Dad's wildfyre in King's Landing: "If she was not her father's daughter, who was she?" This is the central question of Daenerys' arc. Her identity is in her status as the last living Targaryen. The question is whether she wants to continue the Targaryen legacy of madness and slavery, or destroy it (which she's doing).
Foreshadowing
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Arya
When thinking of the original outline Martin somewhat scrapped and that Arya/Jon idea, I do wonder if this is a leftover idea meant to tell us something about Arya's future (namely, that Gendry is likely her love interest instead of Jon):
Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers.
Tyrion
Well, Tywin says this at the start to Tyrion: 
You are done with whores. The next one I find in your bed, I'll hang.
The irony is Tywin won't find a whore in Tyrion's bed. Instead, Tyrion will find that precise whore, Shae, in his father's bed. And he "hangs" her by strangling her with that necklace.
Jon
Jon "had slain the wildling Orell, but some part of the man remained within the eagle." This is pretty likely foreshadowing for Jon remaining in Ghost for a bit before he's resurrected.
Jon and Daenerys
The story has a middle section somewhat littered with romantic longings and first loves. Daenerys is torn about Jorah, whom she doesn't love like that, and has a crush on Daario. She also sleeps with Irri. Arya and Gendry begin to show attraction. Jaime and Brienne. Jon and Ygritte. But here are some lines between Jon and Ygritte that hint at his romantic future:
She punched him. "That's vile. Would you bed your sister?" "Longspear's not your brother." "He's of my village. You know nothing, Jon Snow..."
"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers." "What's wrong with flowers?"
Lol well at least she's his aunt?
Jon's already been strongly associated with blue roses, so this hints that Ygritte isn't a perfect match for him. She's kissed by fire, but not actually fire and air herself, like Dany is. Daenerys also liked the fact that the blue rose growing in a chink of ice at the wall "smell[ed] sweetly."
Lastly:
 A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.
Again, I feel like this might be foreshadowing for Dany and Jon having a child someday. The one thing that makes me skeptical and wondering if the child may be more metaphorical is the timeline--whether or not there's enough time for them to bear a child and save the world from the Others. That said, there's plenty of foreshadowing for it, so...
Sansa
The White Ghost clearly predicts Sansa's hairnet's role in Joffrey's assassination, as well as offers a prophecy of Sansa slaying a giant at, a giant who tries to destroy Winterfell. This may indicate Sansa literally kills a giant at some point, or it might be metaphorical. The one who needs to be slain by Sansa is Littlefinger, but he hasn't really been associated with giant imagery yet just kidding @isammy7936 pointed out the obvious: that the Baelish family crest is the Titan of Braavos.
There's a followup scene of Sansa tearing Robert Arryn's doll that destroyed Winterfell later in the book, in the presence of Littlefinger who was helping her build it. I don't doubt that Littlefinger will help Sansa claim the North at some point, but I also see him trying to destroy the Starks.
Jaime
Oh, Jaime.
I cannot die while Cersei lives, he told himself. We will die together as we were born together.
When I reach King's Landing I'll have a new hand forged, a golden hand, and one day I'll use it to rip out Vargo Hoat's throat.
Smells like foreshadowing to me, although I don't think it will be Vargo Hoat's throat he rips out, but Cersei's he strangles.
Alchemy
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Daenerys and Red
Continuing with Dany's theme of becoming red, sulfur, fire and air, the first city she takes is Astapor, a red city:
In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze... Even through the thickness of her sandals, she could feel the warmth of the red bricks underfoot. 
The other red association I've seen is her dream that she is Rhaegar fighting the Others at the Trident. Most seem to think the battle against the others will end at Winterfell, which I tend to agree with. However, the fact that the final climax should involve red at some point makes me wonder, because this takes place specifically at the Red Fork of the Trident.
That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened.
Then again, fire is certain to be involved in defeating the Others, so it might well be red enough with that.
Bran and White
To continue the Starks are water and earth and white idea, Bran has this quote:
Moonlight painted the wet woods in shades of silver and turned the grey peaks white. Owls hooted through the dark and flew silently between the pines, while pale goats moved along the mountainsides.
Sansa and White
When I reread AGOT, I did take note that Sansa was given a red rose by Ser Loras, rather than the white he gave other girls. But in ASOS, Sansa talks to Loras about that very moment, and the point of this conversation is to reveal how little it meant to Loras. He gave her a red rose because he grabbed a red rose first, not because it meant anything. Seems like a meta commentary.
Arya and White/Water
When Arya dresses like a girl for the first time again, she wears something "lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls."
Furthermore, Arya routinely stops to give water to the dying, even the executed. Even when people, like the Hound, ask for wine (red), she gives them water.
Brienne and Jaime
For Jaime and Brienne, there's very little I can say about their alchemical weddings that the fabulous @argentvive hasn't covered. The first is the dual in the creek, which is with swords and violent, while the second is in the bath. The first one is also littered with romantic and sexual imagery, and is frankly what I'd call metaphorical sex:
No sooner did she turn one cut than the next was upon her. The swords kissed and sprang apart and kissed again. Jaime's blood was singing. This was what he was meant for; he never felt so alive as when he was fighting, with death balanced on every stroke... He laughed a ragged, breathless laugh. "Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music's still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?" ... She looks as if they caught us fucking instead of fighting.
Brienne is also marked as water/earth, and white, while Jaime is red and fire. Jaime tells Brienne:
Think of Tarth, mountains and seas, pools, waterfalls, whatever you have on your Sapphire Isle, think . . . 
Jaime slid into the offered seat quickly, so Bolton could not see how weak he was. "White is for Starks. I'll drink red like a good Lannister." " "I would prefer water," said Brienne. "Elmar, the red for Ser Jaime, water for the Lady Brienne..."
But after their second chemical wedding in the baths, they take on each other's qualities much more. Jaime dons his white cloak, lives in the white tower, and gives Brienne his Valyrian steel sword, which is colored with Lannister red (and is also a phallic symbol).
Arya and Gendry
Arya and Gendry's scenes become slightly romantically charged in this book. After she dresses like a girl, this conversation takes place.
Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. "You look different now. Like a proper little girl." "I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns." "Nice, though. A nice oak tree." He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. "You even smell nice for a change."
They then fight in a scene that parallels the Brienne and Jaime wrestling scene above.
Reconciling Opposites:
Another idea in this book spoken of by multiple characters is that of reconciling opposites. That's what alchemy is fundamentally concerned with. Meera states that hate and love are essentially two sides of the same coin. Barristan says greatness and madness are the same. Melisande says:
"The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good." She took a step toward him. "Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war."
Again, George has pretty much confirmed Dany and Jon are the Song of Ice and Fire, so they need to unite.
Tyrion
One thing I wonder about is the use of homonculus (sometimes represented as a dwarf) and a rebis in alchemy, and whether or not Tyrion is intended to be a portrayal of either or both or neither. Homonculi are sometimes called "monsters", a name Tyrion bitterly embraces by the end of the book. Oberyn says that after Tyrion's birth, there were rumors he had the genitalia of male and female, but Tyrion didn't. At the same time, he does have odd features like two different colored eyes, etc that might hint at him being seen as an alchemical rebis. I don't know.
Other Thoughts
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Tyrion as a Targaryen
Not only do I think it doesn't thematically work to have Tyrion as a Targaryen, but I think the line used at the end of this book as evidence ("You . . . you are no . . . no son of mine") strongly indicates the opposite--that Tyrion is indeed his father's son. You see, Tywin literally says the exact same sentiment only a few chapters earlier to Jaime:
The strained silence went on until it was more than Jaime could endure. "Father . . . " he began.
"You are not my son." Lord Tywin turned his face away. "You say you are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and only that. Very well, ser. Go do your duty."
If people want to argue the Tyrion Targaryen angle, this is not really evidence itself.
Tyrion the Monster
Tyrion's the first of the Main Six to dive off the cliff, starting at the end of this book where he lies to Jaime to tell him he killed Joffrey, desperate to hurt Jaime the same way he's hurting. He's enraged he literally saved the city and no one cares; they all just want him dead for his disability, for things he cannot help. He can't even find love because of it, and he craves love. So he finally decides to be the monster they think he is.
Insofar as the other two likely heads of the dragon go... I think they'll take similar approaches to their dark spirals. We see hints of it this book. Daenerys won't look back until confronted with it, so she'll probably be like "let me prove myself with fire and blood" (actually, this is exactly what her ADWD arc leads to her deciding to do). Jon notes the fact that people assume bastards are craven and scheming, and I do not doubt that is exactly what Jon will become after he's resurrected: he's probably going to ditch the Wall, the fight, and everything for a time.
Jeyne Westerling
Poor Jeyne. Despite her mother's machinations to get Jeyne to seduce Robb, I do believe she and Robb genuinely loved each other--as much as anyone could. Their story seems to be a deconstruction of the "love at first sight" trope, wherein they love each other but don't entirely know each other, and have to get used to each other as people rather than as just objects of love. Hence, Jeyne turning to Catelyn for advice. Which frankly was a wise thing to do :'')
The True Fight
Davos reminds Stannis what the true fight is: up north, fighting the Others. I'm sorry but I can't see the books ending with the show's ending, where the true fight is against humans. No, this isn't thematically contradictory with the idea that the story is about humanity or the human heart against itself; the opposite in fact.
The true fight all humans face is against death, and what we do to live in the face of the reality that we're all going to die.
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