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synthetictorii · 7 months

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Rumors ✧ Toshinori Yagi

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x reader Genre: angst Summary: You've been called a lot of names, more than you can count. You've grown used to it - but your lover hasn't and it's about time it stops. Word count: 3.3k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning... + this was a wattpad rq

You always lived your life in a way that made you feel like a side character of your own story. That was just you were content, putting others on the first place while forgetting about yourself. You were constantly trying to satisfy everyone, to help in any way you could. Many people told you that you were too kind for your own good. They were absolutely right, but you only felt satisfied when you behaved that way. You were happy only when everyone around you was smiling. Your way of thinking and behaving often caused you to be easily overlooked, this was also fine with you. You avoided attention as much as possible.

Then it’s understandable why it was very surprising for you to wake up one day to find photos of yourself all over the news and in TV. Magically, overnight you became the talk of the town. Well, the only magic involved was the man standing right next to you on all of those photos. All Might. The symbol of justice and peace. The reports did a lovely job though, creating a beautiful collage tracking your yesterday’s date, your first “official” one. You turned the volume on as you curled up in your sofa. It couldn’t hurt to watch a bit, right? The show host was talking with the guests about each of them, guessing what was happening but they never got it quite right.

The first picture was taken near the subway station where he was waiting for you with a single white rose, the same flower that was currently sitting in a glass on your kitchen table. You remembered times when a whole bouquet of flowers used to be there, sighing happily. Toshinori finally listened to your pleas and settled for something simpler. You never were one to enjoy getting gifts, especially expensive ones, always feeling that the bond you shared with people was more important. Yet he wouldn’t hear of it. You smiled fondly. “White rose, because your love is just as innocent as the color.” He said yesterday while giving you the flower, a hint of pink colored your cheeks.

The second photo was taken through a window so it was slightly blurred. It showed you laughing, hand covering your mouth while he was talking sitting on a chair opposite of you in a little café, making grand gestures. It was a good one. They caught the moment when he was telling you about his students at U.A. You especially like to hear about one kid named Bakugou, he seemed to be quite a madman. You missed being their age, it was strange to feel like this when your age still sported the twenty in it but in your defense, things were easier then. You wouldn’t turn back time if you had the chance though, you were satisfied with your life the way it was now, especially with a man like Toshinori by your side.

But surely enough, something had to go wrong the moment you thought just that. “They look like a happy couple, right?” said one of the guests on the show. You nodded, smiling from ear to ear. Well, you felt a bit guilty, agreeing without Toshinori’s opinion. Well, whatever, this once you’d allow yourself to be selfish and not care about his thoughts. “They do but you know what they say, even the sun sets in paradise,” said the host and the smile froze on your lips. You frowned and raised the volume, for once actually interested what do the people on TV have to say. “I don’t wanna spread rumors,” said the lady with a fake smile, “but there are some who feel like our dear All Might is only being used. I mean, I don’t want it to be true,” she huffed with laughter, “but she’s just so young, what else could possibly be her motivation? If she truly had feelings for him, she’d tell to wait for her until she learns how to take care of herself,” both the audience and guests bursted out laughing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, like this was what I thought when I first saw-” you turned the TV off and threw the controller away. Your hands were shaking slightly in distress. How could they say something like this? Not once did the thought about his fame or money cross your mind. It was a thing that you literally couldn’t care less about! You shuffled on your spot nervously and bit your lip. You replayed all the occasions when someone looked at you yesterday during the date. Were they all thinking like this? Were they all against your relationship? You were prepared for some hate but not for this. You expected some mean comments but not for people outright saying you weren’t enough for him.

Your pride or reputation wasn’t what mattered to you, even if it probably should, instead you were stressing about what Toshinori will think once he hears these rumors. You knew each other for over half a year but only started dating about two months ago, going out twice or thrice a week, always during late evening or night so you wouldn’t be constantly interrupted by his fans. Yesterday was a little test of sorts to see how it would go. Not well it seemed, you frowned bitterly, gently biting on the skin around your nails – a bad habit of yours when you were anxious.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He woke up well rested, actually feeling refreshed for the first time in god knows how long. His side didn’t hurt one bit and it was almost like before the incident. He whistled all the time during preparing his breakfast and coffee, his mind blissfully returning to yesterday’s events. When his ham’n’eggs was done and the bread was toasted, he set the food on the table and turned on the TV, eager to see what the media thinks about his relationship with you. Although he wouldn’t break up with you if they didn’t approve, public opinion was important to him – and also decided his pay check, so yeah. He clicked through the channels, always watching just for a while before checking elsewhere. So far so good, the reactions were mixed as expected, but mostly it seemed alright. Then he hit the jackpot of hate. His grip on the fork got so strong he split it in half. Shit. This wasn’t good. You were sure to see this, you liked to watch TV in the morning to see what’s up in the world and he couldn’t guess how you’d react but he was certain you’d start worrying.

He didn’t waste any more time, toast and a forkful of eggs laid rejected on the plate, and quickly changed into casual clothes he could were in his flexing form. He felt so frustrated and enraged by what he heard – how dared they gossip about you like that? You were the sweetest, kindest person he knew, if anything was supposed to taken apart by the news, it was how suspiciously perfect you were. He wasn’t able to count how many times he teased you for being too modest and, with relation to the rumors, how often he told to take advantage of having rich boyfriend. You wouldn’t hear of it! Yesterday was the same, he made attempt to pay for your coffee and cake but no, you paid for all the things you both ordered. Seriously, if he didn’t bring you flowers, you’d be the one in your relationship paying for everything – he was the one using you. He could only imagines the headlines if the media knew that.

He rushed out of his apartment and jumped from roof to roof to reach your place sooner while attracting as little attention as possible. It didn’t take him long to arrive as you didn’t live too far away. He waited for a while until the street got empty and then he jumped on the fire escape staircase right next to your living room window. He saw you marching from one end of the room to another, freezing on the spot when he landed with a loud crack. It was a wonder the staircase withstood his little stunt. You turned around and he waved at you. He saw your features relax and gentle smile formed on your lips. You walked to the window and opened it for him to climb inside. “I have arrived, [y/n]! Now let me assure you that everything is alright!” He grinned widely and spread his arms for you. Your smile faded a bit as you gratefully hugged him, he pulled you close tightly, stroking your hair. “You were afraid, right?” He asked, his voice calm and patient. He knew that your feelings weren’t based on distrust towards him but rather your habit of underestimating yourself and he decided to be as supportive as he could in your fight with these feelings. You nodded into his chest, squeezing him harder. “You know, I think saying lies like that on public TV earned them enough of the villain status, want me to beat them up?” He gave you mischievous smile. You laughed and smacked his shoulder lightly. “You know how I feel about violence,” you chuckled and sighed. “I… I really don’t date you just for your money and fame, I swear,” you said, looking somewhat apologetically into his eyes. “I figured that much,” he huffed, almost pouting. He knew it never failed to make you all mushy seeing him act cute. Your giggling rang through the room as you reached up and raised the corners of his mouth with your fingers. “But it’s so nice to spoil you!” You said happily. He took your hands into his and kissed each of your knuckles before laying them on his chest, again holding your waist. “I want to pamper you too, young lady!” He protested while looking into your eyes. “It’s a man’s job to take care of his girl, isn’t it? So, let me take you out for brunch, my treat this time,” he shushed you before you managed to say anything. “I’ll wait here, unless you want me to help you change?” He flirted and you quirked a brow at him. “Is that what you want in exchange for the brunch?” You teased but laughed at the sight of his flushed cheeks and flustered gesticulation. “I’ll be right back,” you reassured him with a smile and gave a small kiss to his nose.

He watched you run off and fondly sighed. How in the world did he deserve such ethereal creature like you? You were the perfect combination of cute and smart with a hint of flirt mixed in and he fell for you more each day. He stared longingly at the doors leading to your bedroom as if he could speed up the process of you getting ready. He tried hard not to imagine you in your underwear but boy, was it hard. Instead he sat on the sofa and turned on the TV with intention of getting more information about how the situation progresses. The conclusion was simple: not very nicely. Some other channels inspired themselves with the one he saw in the morning, throwing hate your way. It took every ounce of his self-control not to destroy the controller. “Are you sure you want to go out?” He turned to see you sheepishly playing with the hem of your hoodie, looking everywhere but at him. You were adorable beyond words. Your nicely shaped body was hidden under oversized [f/c] hoodie but your legs clad only in thin black leggings made up for it and hinted at your figure. He switched the TV off and made his way to you, stroking your arms. “The day I will say no will be my last,” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Then I hope you’ll live a long life,” you snuggled closer to him, enjoying the safety of his solid body whereas he appreciated your affection and nice words. It didn’t matter what happened, you always found the exact thing to say that he needed to hear or guessed what would help to make him feel better. It always left him amazed. Neither of you wanted to let go, however when your stomach let out quite a loud growl. “We should get going,” he suggested and this time you didn’t oppose him.

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The walk was nice, the skies were blue without a hint of cloud and only a light breeze was blowing. You talked about everything and nothing, cracking jokes and laughing all the time. You clinged to his arm happily and momentarily forgot about your worries. This was the effect he had on you. Somehow with him by your side you could let go of everything that weighted down your mind and live in the moment. That’s the symbol of peace for you.

However the peace was not supposed to last for long. Soon you were walking through busier streets than the ones near your home and people were staring. You remembered the words of the morning show’s host. She’s so young. All your insecurities hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt eyes of every single person around on you, burning holes into your soul.

“This can’t be true she’s not enough for him!” “Yeah, All Might deserves the hottest girls only!”

“What a joke, she’s still a child! Learn you place, girl!”

“Poor All Might, how can she be so cheap - using him without shame!”

“In my days it were boys digging gold!”

“Go back to high school he’s got more important job than to baby sit you!”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the ubiquitous whispering. You held onto Toshinori’s arm more tightly, afraid that someone will actually try to tear you away from him. He noticed your distress immediately. You knew from the way his muscles were tenser than usually, his features somehow looked sharper, his teeth gritted to the point of breaking as he tried to maintain his trademark smile. “Please, it’s alright, don’t... don’t make a scene,” you pleaded, voice barely above whisper. You were afraid it would only add oil to the fire and you didn’t exactly wish for more attention. You saw him nod and then his hand was suddenly no longer in your grasp but around your waist, pulling you closer. You smiled, thankful. “Not a word of that is true,” he reminded you with a stroke of his thumb over your side. “I know,” you sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to blot out everyone staring at you from your mind and just focus on the positives. One, you were with Toshinori and he wasn’t fazed at all by the rumors. Two, he was as mad about the whole deal as you, meaning he cared about you just as much as you cared about him. Three, the man you loved with your whole heart was proudly showing you off to the world.

“There's no such thing as bad publicity, huh?”

“I don’t mind people with age difference between them dating, but isn’t she too young?”

“I hope he’ll dump her soon.”

“Be careful All Might, she’s no good!”

“Daddy kink alert!”

The voices didn’t stop coming though and your boyfriend was getting visibly more and more upset. You bit your lip and laid a hand on his stomach, trying to bring him out of his thoughts. However your plan crashed as someone from the small crowd watching you two yelled, “Get your dirty hands off him, you sugar baby!” That was the last straw and all it took for Toshinori to snap. He stopped dead in his track. “Listen up everyone!” He shouted in his rich voice so loud that not even Present Mic would be ashamed of it. He gently pulled you in front of him and rested his hands on your shoulders. You backed down only to be met with his firm chest. Okay, this could do. He cleared his throat and scowled at everyone present at the moment. You noticed some cameras filming the whole scene from the corner of your eye too.

“This is [y/n], and we’ve been dating for months now,” his voiced was calm, although he was not. Hearing your name come from his lips in the public, introducing you to his fans, made you blush a deep shade of red. He noticed and chuckled fondly, quiet enough for only you to hear. “I, All Might, am thrilled to share my life with this amazing woman and I would appreciate if you all could be more supportive of our relationship,” his hands gently squeezed your shoulders in attempt to ease your nervousness. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to face all these unknown people, but he hoped he provided at least a little support. “[y/n] is the sweetest person I’ve ever met, angels aren’t as kind or gentle as this young lady standing in front of you. You don’t have to worry, I will continue in my fight against evil, but please understand, even a hero needs a home and I found mine in her arms.” You casted your eyes down on the ground as you felt them overflowing with wetness. His tender words filled your soul with warmth and made you wonder for thousandth time just today how did you deserved a man like him. He often joked around but never when it came to serious matters, relationship definitely being one. He was honest, confessing his love for you to the whole world. “Shall we go, honey?” He asked you, voice soft, turning you slowly to face him. You smiled brightly at your new nickname. “Yeah,” you whispered breathily and before you knew it, he carried you bridal style while you soared through the air. You let out a weak squeak, tears flying around as the wind rushed against your face. Soon you landed on a roof of high building near the city center. “I’m sorry they cornered us in the end,” he apologized, setting you down. “It’s alright,” you gave him a reassuring smile. Your knees were still shaky from your touched state. “Thank you… for what you said back then,” you avoided his intense gaze, roses blooming on your cheeks. You wished your thoughts were more coherent so you could actually respond with a confession of your own, but as luck would have it, you were speechless blushing mess. “[y/n], I meant every word I said and you better be ready to hear more,” he took your hands into his, rubbing little circles over your knuckles. “And now that our relationship is official, you can’t run that easily from me,” he smirked playfully, invading your personal space. “As if I wanted to run, you dummy,” you jumped at him in excitement when the full weight of his words finally hit you. Yet you were still in denial over your luck. He caught you chuckling with his deep voice and leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. His proximity made the color in your cheeks more prominent. You stared into his fierce blue eyes and cherished the sudden tranquillity, a fond smile on your lips. “All Might, I think I’m utterly in love with you,” your teeth showed as your lips spread widely in a grin. His expression mimicked your and he shook his head in silent laughter. “You dork,” he closed the distance between you, kissing you deeply but gently. His lips were delightfully moist and soft against your own. Kissing him always felt so out of this world you briefly wondered if this was what heaven was like. It was everything. Only when your lungs screamed for oxygen did you break the kiss but still lingered close, your lips still touching. “I love you too, [y/n],” he said so sweetly you almost thought that suffocating during kissing wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #toshinori angst #all might angst

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shxtodxroki · 1 year

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All Might (Toshinori Yagi) Masterlist

Here is where you will find all of my writing for All Might! I hope you enjoy, and if you like these feel free to drop a request in my inbox at any time! <3

- MHA Men When You Send Them An Accidental Confession Text (Pt. 2)

♡ Drabbles ♡

- The Same Person? (1.2k, Fluff)

♡ Fake Texts ♡

#{☆} - important posts #{💌} - masterlists #all might x reader #all might x y/n #all might x you #toshinori x reader #toshinori x y/n #toshinori x you #toshinori headcanons #all might headcanons #all might imagine #all might fluff #toshinori fluff #all might angst #toshinori angst #toshinori #toshinori yagi #all might

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jomamaofficial · 2 months

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The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter pt.2 (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: SO, THIS WAS ASKED IN MY ASK BOX. BUT I STUPIDLY REPLIED TO IT SO I DON'T KNOW WHICH ANON ASKED FOR IT SO I'M JUST GOING TO TAG EVERYONE WHO LIEKD THAT POST HERE AND HOPE IT'S THE BRILLIANT ANON WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE A PART 2. @dark-magic-phoenix @crystal-freak24 @observaureium @justtovi3w62. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Graphic descriptions of blood (coughing blood), graphic imagery of crushing a heart (doesn't happen, just explained) CW: difficult father-daughter dynamics. Taglist: @thatcatladywrites @smikys-stuff @kimberlyfletcher @dawnwriterimagines Masterlist Word Count: 1951. Summary: One argument led to another– the foundation of your family was built upon suffering and sacrifice. Secrets were unveiled, revealing the true intentions of your father, the lingering wounds of the past stinging harder than any cut has ever. With tension reaching a breaking point, what happens when you confront your father, searching for the harsh truth, even if it leads to a devastating decision– you will never be the same again. He will never be the same again.

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Toshinori’s chest rose and fell.

“You don’t mean that…”

A pang struck through your heart as your father’s laboured breaths increased, tailing off in steady wheezes that only grew louder.

“Dad…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Dad, I didn’t m-”

Your voice cracked, succumbing to the hot tears which burned against your cheeks. Emotions flooded your head, as though they had been waiting to escape from the dam of truth that you had to silence to protect the peace in your family. The pressure had built up and that dam had finally broken in the most irreparable way possible.

Shame hammered your mind, delivering blunt throbs as you watched your dad clutching his frail chest in agony.

Guilt drilled poison into your veins as your father struggled to stand up– his sickly body unable to bear this pressure. His airways had been restricted, thus his once strong and proud chest had nothing to show but a vacant cavity, struggling to hold itself up.

This living room had always been small– enough space just for the two of you. Dad and his little hero. It had always been you two, but today, this room was longer and narrower, as though mocking your sanity which had become a battlefield.

Would you protect your father and carry on living in this dollhouse family, of which the foundations were built off of your suffering.

Or would you protect yourself and destroy your relationship with the only family that you ever had.

The struggle had refused to forsake– silence had become your greatest enemy. It had left you alone with your screaming thoughts of doubt that deafened your conviction, leaving you straggled, naked, and vulnerable in the vast depths of your fears because what if.

What if Midoriya truly was better than you?

What if you truly were not worth it?

What if you had lost your rights to call yourself his daughter.

Forever.

You had lost everything to the ravenous beast which ruined everything you touched, and it wanted more. It wanted more, so it began making more noise, howling over the whispers of the wind, it howled over the ticking of the clock. It howled until nothing could be heard.

Silence.

It had become silent.

As though you were the only person in the room.

A sudden thud drew your attention to the floor.

Toshinori collapsed on the ground, and his eyes had gone blank, jaw slack. His ribs stuck out from under his skin, showing through his thin white t-shirt as his brassy cough filled his mouth with blood.

He urgently covered his mouth with his hands, forcing it shut but to no avail. It had already slipped past his hold, travelling down his neck, staining his shirt. A constant offender.

Your father began developing bloody coughs over three years ago. Yet every time you saw his chest heave and bleed, surges of nausea would creep up your veins, forcing you to leave.

“Dad!”

This was too much blood. It wasn’t meant to be like this… The doctor said a few drops or so, maybe a teaspoon, but that was ‘highly unlikely’. You watched as his white shirt became saturated, dizziness threatening to blur your vision.

But you could not see him like this. You didn’t think twice before rushing to help him– but you were stopped.

Toshinori raised his shaking hand immediately. You were halted, frozen in disbelief.

He put his hand back on the floor, taking a few breaths before pushing himself, warranting another step forward from you, another cry, but he just stopped you again. You could only watch as your father relied on his bony wrists to push himself up.

You could hear his shallow gasps for air, and his repressed coughs– and all you could do was watch your father’s face contort in fatigue and ache. Toshinori had finally gotten up, but that look had not left his face as he pushed past you. You watched the limp in his leg as he hobbled towards the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushioned couch. His head slumped onto the head rest, limbs unfurling in exhaustion.

You were suspended in your head, unable to move past the questions which rung bright sirens.

You shouldn’t have raised your voice at your own father– the doctor had told you. He’s injured, he’s getting older. He can’t process such shocks like this anymore.

What was wrong with you?

But it couldn’t have been just your fault… right? But then he pushed you– maybe he didn’t just notice– but what if he did it on pur-

“Y/N”, your father had called for your name, but his eyes did not meet yours.

Instead, they looked past you.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was five years old.

A decade after the first quirk was discovered, many adoption agencies in Musutafu began sorting children based off of a ‘ranking system’.

Official documents stated that this case was first brought up in the Supreme Court due to an incident that had occurred in an orphanage near Musutafu, 26 years ago. It was a heartbreaking case of manslaughter that had taken place when six year old Chihiro Onodera– Quirk: Lava, accidentally murdered eight year old Honoka Sugo– Quirk: Bubbles, during lunch time as they were play-fighting.

It did not take much convincing as this case had reached international news, thus the court immediately passed a bill on the separation of quirks preliminary based off of their strength and danger levels, which were to be evaluated on a scale of 1 to 5.

Nevertheless, this bill had struck a controversial match, becoming the largest contemporary topic that was disputed over in the past years.

Demonstrations, protests and violent public outrage reached its peak when leaked intel revealed that a lot of children began to go missing from Adoption Agencies under the radar– they no longer had papers, as if their identities had been erased off of the face of this Earth.

Nanami Tomoda, Sae Ojima, Makoto Kanezaki– these were some of the household names that had garnered petrifying national and international headlines:

Heartbreaking Tragedy Strikes Japan: Devastating Attack Leaves Communities Reeling

Japan in Shock: Deadly Assault Rocks Nation's Sense of Security

Aftermath of Brutal Assault Leaves Nation Grieving Chaos and Carnage

Not much was known about these young adults.

Apart from two things.

First.

They were not independent contractors. All of them could be traced back to some of the very few established, powerful, underground organisations.

And second.

They were all orphans, rated 5, who had been declared missing for ten or more years.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was rated 5.

Toshinori Y/N lost her quirk at age ten.

You are rated 0.

Zero.

Toshinori took a deep breath before he spoke.

“I have raised you since you were five years old.” He still did not meet your eyes. “I raised you in hopes that you would become a strong, and powerful young lady.”

He drew a breath in– it was laced in disappointment.

“But why does it feel, as though it has had no influence on you?”

Toshinori shifted both of his arms onto the couch rests, sitting tall.

“One does not become a hero by winning every fight. Not everything is about a hero’s physical strength. A hero is made when they understand that retaliation only makes them the real villain.”

Your father’s voice had deepened, and so did the dreadful pit in your stomach that sunk your resolve.

“A true hero understands that strength lies in the ability to rise above the pain. Because those who focus on what has been lost”, he continued, lips twitching, as a faint, uncontrollable tremor laced his words in indisputable venomous contempt, “are either insane, or desperate for attention they know they will never get.”

Small muscles in your face began to twitch despite the heaviness that had been pulsed through your body, holding it in place, as you just stood there. Your eyes, once red and exposed, had no inhabitant, no focus.

A ghost town.

“A true hero is grateful. And recognises every bit of effort someone else put in order to get them to where they are now.”

His gaunt eyes found yours, casting an unfamiliar chill in your body. They were sunken in, casting his gaze in dark shadows– an abyss impenetrable by light.

“You got your quirk stolen, Y/N. But you cannot get that back anymore. But it’s been years, I expect at least some gratitude considering I did you a favour by adopting you.”

He had left a clot that blocked your heart.

“Because no one else would have wanted you.”

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most.

The man you called your father had waited until the last second to take the satisfaction of crushing your heart, flesh against flesh.

Humans evolved to gain resistance and immunity against everything that threatens their survival.

Therefore, living with this man only meant that you had to gain immunity against pain and humiliation, because that was the only thing that could guarantee your survival.

So when you shook off the heaviness in your lid and focused onto your father’s face, you could only lift the corners of your lip.

“If you didn’t want me. Someone else would have adopted me instead. Like you did. No papers, no nothing– I’d slip under the radar, at least I’d still have my quirk, and end up on those headlines.”

“How dare you?” he uttered, face contorted in malice.

“I was five. That’s why you adopted me. Don’t deny it”

Toshinori stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His shoulders, broad and hubris, had become small and meek. You watched him contemplate: his eyes, vindictive and daring, were cast down, hiding amongst the Tatami flooring.

“My child…” he began, his voice softer. “After your quirk had been stolen, I could not risk making you the target again. That’s the reason I don’t come to your events. It’s because you’ll become the target everyone goes for because they know you’re my daughter”.

“They’ll know?” your lips had pressed into a thin line. “Like how Midoriya knew I was your daughter? Like how the media knows?”

In the stifling air, your dry laughter bounced off of the discomfort.

“Don’t act like you aren’t ashamed of me.”

Your face had settled into a stone.

“It’s not about me being a target. It’s about protecting your image.”

“My daughter-”

“You have lost the right to call me your daughter. If I was such a disappointment after my quirk was ripped away from me, why did you keep me? You could have sent me back. Why did you keep me, dad, why did you keep me!”

Those closest to you, leave irreparable wounds.

But there was a reason they were close to you. A reason that subsided in love, care, and hope.

Your crushed heart was surviving on its last breath, waiting to hear something that could revive it.

Toshinori lifted his head again, his eyes flickering behind you.

It locked onto an object that somehow gained more attention than you ever had in your entire life. You risked a look over your shoulder, only to see the picture of your father and Midoriya, smiling–almost mockingly– back at you.

You knew what the answer was going to be.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing.”

A flat-line.

“Well if that’s how you really feel, I have no obligation to stay here anymore.”

You drew your breath in, words suspended at the tip of your tongue.

“I wish you and your student the best of luck, All Might.”

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runmpie · 1 month

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✨500$ 4ft limited edition All Might✨

#bnha #bnha memes #all might #yagi toshinori #sir nighteye #nightmight #this divorce makes me cry #because angst #but also comedy gold #mha #mha memes

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frickingnerd · 5 months

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all might breaking up with you

pairing: toshinori yagi / all might x gn!reader

tags: angst, minor fight, reluctant break up

when you two started dating, both you and all might were aware that you'd be in danger if people knew you were dating

and yet, you could always count on your pro-hero boyfriend to save you if anything happened to you!

but over time, all might started to get weaker and weaker with each passing day, while all for one seemed to become more of a threat than ever

it was clear to both of you that if all for one got his hands on you, all might might not be able to save you this time

the thought of it pained him! knowing that you could get hurt because he was too weak to protect you…

it was really nagging on him, until he came to the conclusion that he should stay away from you, if he can't protect you

if only he stays away from you and you keep a low profile, then at least you'd be safe!

of course, when all might brought up a break up, you weren't on board with it

you refused to leave your boyfriend for something that was only hypothetically

but all might seemed set on that idea.

so much so that he told you he'd break up with you, whether you'd agree to his plan or not!

it was a shock to you, but it only showed how determined he was

you knew you couldn't argue with him, so you simply agreed and packed your things, leaving his apartment the same night

from there on out, the only times you still saw him was on tv, but that day had been the last time you two saw each other in person…

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the19thduckpotato · 3 months

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"You once admitted to me that she was like a mother to you. So why can't you say that he feels like your son?"

It suddenly clicked and Sorahiko sighed an old man's sigh.

The blond squeezed his eyes shut. "Did she ever..."

"Toshinori. Would you believe me even if I told you?" Sorahiko wasn't trying to be cruel now, merely honest.

#angst doodle of my angst writing #maybe a comic some day #always when im supposed to be doing other stuff #oh dear sweet sunburst #mha #bnha #toshinori #dad might #all might #sunflower dad

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idontlikethetasteofwater · 11 days

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The Attack

Izuku was nine, nearly ten, when the worst day of his life happened.

All four of them were in one of his father’s more rural bases in America. It was July 4th- not just Independance Day for the Americans, but a day of celebration for the family as well, as it was his mother’s birthday. The kids of villains ran around the compound with sparklers, their parents following them with weak salutes to All for One and Crybaby, All for One’s sons holding onto their father’s hands as he trailed behind his wife. Kurogiri followed behind them like a specter, wispy body practically floating through the hallways.

It had felt like such a good day that the first explosion had just seemed like fireworks, the first scream one of joy, the first collapse and electrical flash-

Well, when the lights started to flash and someone yelled “It's All Might!” was when All for One had perked up, immediately sinking into the shadows and leaving his children and wife behind. Izuku had gasped in delight, before looking over at Tomura, who was pale.

Then the running started, and the crowd in the compound began to push each other. Izuku was separated first, Tomura running off after him and Inko calling out for her boys to come back through the crowd of people. People cried out when they saw the boys alone, but it wasn’t enough for Inko to get over to them-

Crack.

Kurogiri flared out, children and villains being teleported anywhere and everywhere that wasn’t here as the compound began to crack and came crashing down. A single strike from All for One and All Might’s battle destroyed half of the compound, killing everyone still trapped inside. Dust flared through the hallways, obscuring everyone’s vision. A baby started to wail, drowning out the sounds of groups trying to find each other-

Bang!

Another collapse, much closer this time.

Tomura’s wings broke through his shirt, tearing it to shreds, before flaring out. He grabbed his brother by the arm and flew up, stopped by the ceiling above them, spider web cracking already extending through the drywall. Inko reached out with her quirk and heaved, grabbing onto Izuku’s shirt and pulling them towards her, before she was shoved by someone in the crowd and forced to release him. Tomura flew towards her general location, wings curling like a shield as he landed, forcing the remnants of the crowd to go around-

A glossy white shield surrounded them, protecting them from the smoke and dust.

“Dad,” Izuku whispered, tears welling in his eyes. Tomura grabbed him and dragged him towards his chest, his mom grabbing him by the shoulder to keep him close. The shield fell in a series of burning sparks that left little marks across any and all exposed skin, Inko’s grip on her son tightening.

The battlefield was dust. Just dust and dirt, where there once were expansive gardens, homes, and a float celebrating July 4th. All of it was torn to shreds. The battle was marked in flashes of red and blue and black, their father trying to cause as little damage to his compound as possible in the fear of killing his children and wife but nearly getting overwhelmed by All Might’s onslaught of attacks.

Izuku’s breath hitched, and their mother scowled, tears running down her face before she reached out a hand.

“Mom! It’s too far!” Tomura exclaimed, and their mother grimaced.“I don’t care. That bastard does not get to hurt my husband,” she pulled, Kurogiri wrapping around them to send them away as All Might let out a strangled scream as his stomach erupted from his body. Izuku grabbed onto Tomura’s arm as the last image faded and they were covered in an icy, wet sensation before being teleported.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dead Cannot Cry, Chapter Six: The Faceless Man (That Once Was My Father)

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sprainedwriting · 8 months

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where are you? (i don’t want to die alone) 3

all might x child! reader

chapter 1 ; chapter 2

tags/cw: child neglect, slight self harm, unhealthy coping mechanisms, VERY unrealistic everything

read on ao3 for better formatting + tagging

when you turn up on time to your first class, your friends seem relieved. ah, you nearly forgot, since its the 20 year anniversary for your school, the students will hold a cultural festival. there will be a concert, dancing performances and food.

you don’t perform on stage, especially not in-front of huge groups of people. your stage fright was too severe. still, you will spend the day helping to set up everything. being the man behind the scene and everything.

right now you were behind the gymnasium with your best friend, he was rolling a cigarette for himself. you were too paranoid to smoke, what if your voice changed too much and everyone ends up hating it?

leaning against the wall, you finished telling him of your crazy morning. he was the only one who knows who your father is. not because you told him, but because all might barged into your apartment and revealed his own secret identity. you don’t know how that could have happened, because you extra texted him AND left a message on his voice mail. who would have thought, he didn’t answer and screwed himself up.

the gymnasium is painted in a graffiti style, the new first years alway re paint it. a few years ago your group project was presented for everyone to see. now, it is buried under layers and layers of paint. even though the wall has been painted again and again, it still had a rough texture. your finger glided across it, nervously.

“…when’s your birthday anyways?” he asked, while patting his pockets, searching for his lighter.

scowling at him, you pressed your finger harder against the rough surface. your finger was starting to become raw.

“dude, that’s like the least important information in the whole world you could ask for.” reaching into your pant pocket, you pull out a lighter and give it to him. he quickly thanks you.

“it’s important to me! mmm, what’s your zodiac sign?”

sighing, you rub your forehead. you made sure not to tell the birthday story, yet. if someone congratulated you for your birthday you would start crying at this point. you straightened up when you heard voices coming close towards you. your best friend puts his cigarette out against the wall and puts it in his hoodie pocket. he stepped towards you, trying to look who was coming.

of course it had to be class 1a with their two teachers. so they were able to make it. with them was the director, giving them a tour of the campus. ugh you can never catch a break. you have to think fast, do you leave as quickly as possible or stay?

thank god you’re not a hero, so you don’t need to be brave and face uncomfortable situations!

“..i’m running, bro.”

“huh? wait..!”

before you could really think everything through, you started sprinting. not too far, just to put some distance between you and them. after a few seconds you slowed down and looked over your shoulder. the group just rounded the corner. quickly looking ahead again, you decided to walk towards the main building, since your next classes will be there. while you walked, you ignored the feeling of being watched.

________________________

end of the day, somewhat.

while your classes did end, it didn’t mean you could go home yet to rot away in your room. since today was the anniversary of your school, your job is to prepare the stage, so others can perform.

you aren’t late for the preparations! which is a blessing in disguise. right now you’re behind the stage, stashing away your bag.

“…so that’s why the hero class is here.” someone explained, a first year.

immediately perking up at the mention of hero class, you asked,

“why are they here?”

“ugh! dude, i explained it, like, 100 times already! they are here to play through like a boomb threat scenario. you know, since hero work also includes assisting during terrorism threats.” you knew if you were not an upperclassman, they probably would have refused to answer. children.

nodding your head at the explanation, you straightened your back and sighed. maybe you could fake sick…nah. gotta pull through.

massaging your temples you simply tried to focus on breathing.

“they will leave before the perfomances tho! they hid like a secret paper cut out somewhere. they also are not allowed to disturb us. so don’t worry, senpai!”

“well at least it is something. image how annoying it would be if they, like, were around us all the time…annoying like flies, man.” with those words you left backstage area. stepping into the stage was, maybe, not your best move.

the class, with their teachers (because why would they ever need to be independent) stood infront of the stage. at least they were no on here with you and a few others. you diged your thumb nail into your raw finger. the pain should ground you.

“ah! yagi! you know, our school was able to bring out not only small starts, but also a few big ones.” she winked at you.

schooling your face to stay neutral, you could hear a few whispers from the students. of course they remembered your face from the morning. that was some wild shit you pulled there. jesus.

“oi! aren’t you the one from the train station?!” called someone out.

furrowing your brows at the question, and thanking yourself for taking that action class as a joke, you answered in monotone voice, “huh? no, sorry. i have never seen you guys before, in my life. i swear on my fathers life.”

and then you smiled at them, brightly. fuckers.

what the hell are you supposed to say? yes? no way. why did you even do that. are you mentally unwell or something? …maybe it is some time for self reflexion.

turning around and scanning the stage, you make a mental note on what was missing. the piano was already there, thankfully. speakers, microphones, the drum set, amplifiers, the lights have to be tuned. and and and and.

much to do, with not a lot of time to spare. is the piano even tuned properly? ugh.

fucking back off back stage, you decided on starting with the lights and speakers, since you aren’t sure on what kind of perform order there is. not everyone needs microphones, but everyone needs lights.

“ayo! do we have anyone on the lights yet?” you called out. the answer came fast with a solid no.

thank god, you have a job. taking out your phone, you checked you text messages. your friends were not here yet. those traitors, tell you to be punctual but can’t do that themselves.

while you send out text messages, you could hear hushed whisper in the background.

“hello there! kid, which i have never meet before! could you assist me?”

great.

#all might x reader #bnha toshinori #yagi x reader #toshinori x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha angst #angst #mha x reader #mha angst

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princesssukuna · 4 months

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It will always be you

So I have been writing this story for a while and I am so in love with it. I am in love with sleep deprived men, which means I love Aizawa. I can't write y/n or reader to save my life, so I decided to create a OC.

Pairing: F! OC x Shouta Aizawa

Rating: Mature (Minors DNI!)

Tags/CW: Angst, Fluff, Drug/Alcohol Use, Hurt/Comfort

Trope: Second Chance, Slow burn, Found Family

Summary: Being a superhero definitely had its perk. Saving people, being admired, and being the best role model for the future heroes in training. The downside? That's a taboo topic that needs to be covered perfectly behind the mask. Michelle (or you), or also known as Volten, is the #1 hero in Mexico. She has not been the same ever since the day she graduated and left U.A. without turning back. One day she gets an unexpected visit with an offer as a teacher at U.A. hoping that Michelle can get back on track with her personal life. Little does she know she will be reunited with her first love that also broke her apart.

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synthetictorii · 7 months

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Another Day ✧ Toshinori Yagi

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x reader Genre: angst Summary: Toshinori's condition is detoriating, which worries you. But it doesn't seem like he cares. Word count: 3.8k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning...

In the end, it was always like this.

You’d never believe that silence could be so loud.

The air felt heavy and it was hard to breath with the lump in your throat. You felt tears in corners of your eyes threatening to fall.

“I love the sparks in your eyes, they’re the most beautiful constellation I’ve ever seen.”

Your chest felt constricted like it was bandaged too tightly. As if it wasn’t hard to breathe already.

“The rising and falling of your chest always lulls me to sleep no matter what. One day, I’m gonna put the ring on your finger and spend the rest of my days making you happy and even that won’t be enough to thank you for that comfort.”

His words rang in your mind. He knew you felt the same; it was like you two had some sort of competition who’ll think of more sweet nothings going on.

Then why was he doing this to you? Why did he make you pull your knees to your chest in vain attempt to calm down, hugging them with your hands to stop them from shaking? And the hot prickling of tears, the effort needed to suck air into your lungs… was that nothing to him? That must be the case. Why else would he be standing in front of the crowd, his booming laughter loud enough to be heard on the other side of the pacific? That was not the problem of course. You knew how much he loved attention and praise. Always the crowd-pleaser. No, your deal was not that but the trembling of his muscles. The slight tension is his expression that goes unnoticed to all the anonymous faces in the crowd. His time was running out. Again. He was hurt. Again. And oh-so badly. The steam was slowly rising from his body. Just the slightest hint of smoke that could easily be written of as smudge on the TV screen.

You briefly considered just turning the damned thing off. But then again, you would be left alone without a chance to learn anything. You bit the corner of your thumb and pulled at the skin there in another futile attempt to calm yourself. Why didn’t they say anything? The screen in front of you was showing a picture of heavily damaged streets. You didn’t understand why the hell news needed such dramatic shots anyway. Just get back to the man everyone cares about! Finally, the picture changed and it was showing the place where he stood. Only he did so about a minute ago as the reporter informed the watchers. You almost threw the remote against the screen, gripping the damn thing so hard your knuckles turned white. After a bit you simple huffed and settled for harshly tossing it to the other side of the couch.

And now what? Wait? As if you could just calmly sit here while the love of your life might be out there somewhere, beaten and vulnerable. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while contemplating your options, eyes still fixed on the screen. You should have just turned it off, those idiots didn’t even try to pursue him.

Just as you were about to get up and write a very rude and enraged email to the station to blow some steam off, the front door were unlocked and you heard faint sound of someone toeing off their shoes. You let out a breath and close your eyes, your anger dissipating completely. He made it. That was enough for now. You slowly stood up and walked across the room to lean against the bedroom door. You scanned the intruder carefully. It now seemed he was unharmed. It almost made you sneer. He had the audacity to bother the poor lady again. Then again, you were also to blame. If seeing him hurt didn’t upset you so much, he wouldn’t do it. At least he is alright now, you decided.

He was still wearing the loose white button-up (you remembered it fitting tightly just few hours ago when he left, your heart dropped at the thought) and khaki jeans. His blond hair hung limply down, framing his sharp features and glowing blue eyes. Just how much you loved that color, not even the shade of ocean in the summer could compare to it. And they made him look so cute when he was giving you his best puppy eyes – like he was doing right now. “Welcome home, baby,” you said softly, careful not to let your voice break and made your way to your, very tired, boyfriend, immediately circling your arms around his neck. Arguing was the last thing he needed right now. With a gentle, and very much surprised, smile on his lips he leaned down to kiss you. “Hey, how were you?” He smiled and rubbed your noses together. He tried to hide his exhaustion but you noticed. You always noticed. Three years were three years after all; almost nothing could escape your trained eyes. You bit your lower lip painfully, almost drawing blood, so you wouldn’t blurt out what was occupying your mind at the moment. It could wait. Talking with him about this in his current state wouldn’t solve anything. “Fine, I guess,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. He raised an eyebrow, but you simply shook your head. “Go shower, you’re so sweaty,” you tried to lift the mood by scrunching your nose and tapped his bony chest lightly, almost afraid you’d broke him if you add more pressure. It was alright, he didn’t know this was the reason, thinking you were just too sweet to hit him even playfully. “Mean,” he pouted but passed by you, not spinning you around and planting a sweet kiss to your lips one more time like he usually did. He was too tired to address your tense body and obvious distress. But it was alright. You’ve grown used to it and didn’t mind, knowing that he barely saw straight. Another sigh escaped your lips as you laid down on the bed and picked up your phone to browse the world wide web.

It felt strange really, to stalk All Might’s fan website while he was showering like two meters from you. You couldn’t help it though as you weren’t lucky enough to catch any info about the morning’s incident from the news. Apparently someone with a strength-enhancing quirk tried to burgle an apartment but was spotted and tried to punch his way away from police when your boyfriend stepped in. How did he manage to run into trouble every time he went for groceries you had no idea. So yeah, seems like he caught him and handed him over to police officers with only a few people suffering from minor injuries. Good. At least he wouldn’t stress over the victims. Unless he realized that many of those people lost a place to live thanks to the fight with the villain and the inevitable destruction that followed. You sighed and rolled to lay on your stomach, hugging a pillow under your chest. Your phone stayed abandoned on the edge of bed, you wouldn’t handle any more news or fan comments about how terrifying the fight was.

Of course you were proud of your boyfriend. He was the number one hero after all, incredibly brave and strong, a person to admire. You felt so blessed to be able to know him personally and more, to love him and be loved in return. Yet the whole situation was bittersweet, as much as you wanted to support his hero activities, you couldn’t help but worry about him. Sure, he was exceptionally strong and capable, you got it. But still, how could you ever be fine with him leaving for his job at U.A. every day knowing he only had around three hours in his trademark muscular form? What if something happened? He wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to save people, it was a wonderful quality, you understood that and knew you were being selfish by wanting him to drop his career as pro-hero or at the very least to only participate in the most dire situations but you were his girlfriend and his life mattered to you more than your own, let alone other people’s! It made you feel like a horrible, heartless person but that was how you felt. You just couldn’t stand the sleepless nights when he returned injured, the nerve-wrecking mornings when he fought villains on his way to work and draining afternoons when he needed to stay later at work, risking running into bad guys in darkness. And all that for the rest of your life? You’d have ended up in mental hospital after few weeks if it wasn’t for your mutual friends! Midnight was very supportive and always there for you to bawl on the phone when something happen or to ramble when nothing happened. So far you were lucky enough that she and he both always managed to calm your fears and coax you into believing in him just for a while longer. You felt like terrible girlfriend for doubting his abilities, but how could you not when he always pushed further than he should, overworking himself and then collapsing in the middle of walking to your shared bed? Was it really that bad to worry for him and wishing he would be safe?

A gentle stroke from your lower back all the way to your nape woke you up from your thoughts. The hand then moved to your chin, making you turn your head to face him. “Darling, why are you crying?” He asked, a slight frown on his face as he cupped your cheeks and gentle wiped stray beads of salty tears away. You looked away bashfully. You didn’t even notice you were crying. You turned all the way, laying on your sided. You took a moment to collect yourself. You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled in the same way. Some days were just hell to get through. “It’s nothing,” you said softly, looking up into his cerulean eyes and giving him a little smile. “Why is it that everytime you say so, it’s not true?” He chuckled sadly and looked into your eyes. Concern was written all over his face but so was exhaustion. You tried hard not to tear up again at the thought about how hard he must’ve been trying to stay awake. “I’m sorry,” you apologized just as sadly, “let’s talk about it when you wake up, alright?” You tried, unsure of what his response would be. In your experience, it was fifty-fifty. Today you guessed – correctly – that he would be too tired to keep going. “’right,” he sighed and pulled himself to you. You stayed put, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck and breathe in your scent. His arms were loosely looped around your waist while his legs were already tangled with yours. You pulled him closer still and gently kissed the crown of his head, not minding the tickling sensation of his messy damp hair. “Sleep tight,” you whispered even though he was already in the land of dreams.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

His head felt like somebody banged it against concrete. Everything was too far to focus on as if it was all wrapped in a fog but the warmth that surrounded him. Even in this hazy state he knew he could trust that warm sensation and his lips twitched in a hint of smile. The feeling grounded him and helped him gradually slip into consciousness. He inhaled deeply, your scent filling his lungs and reminding him why he woke up every morning. Your arms were still pulling him closer, even more now that his bony body started to stir. You once told him that it was an instinctive reaction – that you never knew if he wasn’t having a nightmare by chance so you always wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. Just what have he done to have a chance with you and to make you his. With you by his side, everything in his memories seemed dull and somehow colourless without the shine of your eyes looking at him with so much adoration and admiration. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t enough to keep him feeling like a hero.

Ah, yes. His hero career. The reason behind your tears and fears, not to mention so many fights between the two of you. His body tensed ever so slightly, still exhausted after staying in his inflated form too long. His heart felt heavy. It hurt you so much to see him weak like this. He knew that. You didn’t have to say anything, he knew just by the way your shoulders dropped when he stepped into the apartment, your eyes faded and smile cracked. Yet you never were like that on normal days when you relaxed together on the sofa, your head resting on his bony shoulder. You were always so playful and flirty with him, no matter his looks, but this… he knew it broke your heart. And what’s worse, he was the only one who could hope to pick up the pieces and put it back together.

And he absolutely hated being the one behind your pain. He swore to himself so many times he lost count to never exert himself to this extend but always failed. He couldn’t just silently watch injustice happening. It was like a drug. The adrenaline rushing through his veins and the satisfaction of having saved somebody’s life, nothing could compare to it. Sure, some of his best memories with you came quite close but it wasn’t quite the same. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, knowing that he ignored someone’s call for help. First, he needed to at least make sure that young Midoriya was ready to take care of the city himself. Then he could think about retiring for good. Yes, then he will stop and become your full-time partner. A husband, if you’ll grant him the privilege. He already had a ring chosen and stashed away in a secret hiding place, safe from you. Though now, now he wasn’t sure he’ll ever get the chance to ask for your hand. You were always so patient with him but he knew your heart could only take so many hits. One day, he was sure you’d snap, completely shattered.

His body stirred again on its own in effort to shake off the anxiety he felt. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted him softly and kissed the crown of his head. Always so gentle with him even if all you wanted to do was to scream some reason into him, beat it into him even. “How long have I been asleep?” He asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping, strained by the uneasiness. He felt your neck bending to look at the clock, he took this as an opportunity to nibble on your sensitive spot lightly, pulling you closer to him. He managed not to wince from the pain. You chuckled, slapping his shoulder lightly. “Stop it you,” you whisper-shouted, “and you slept for around three hours.” He grumbled in response, that explains the dull ache in his head. It would do him good to sleep for a lot longer but now he had a little crisis on his hands, though you acted like nothing happened. Because you were awesome like that. Because you loved him like that. Loved him enough to push your own feelings, even anger, aside to let him rest before another storm.

He sighed deeply and moved his head to look up at you. Your eyes were still reddish from the crying, your nose was a cute shade of pink too. Yet you were smiling at him gently, patiently waiting for his words, smile, whatever he would give you. You were blinding him like sun at noon, even more. He gave a little, sad smile himself. “Wanna talk?” He asked unceremoniously. There was so need to beat around the bush after all. You sighed exasperatedly. Barely containing your emotions, he could tell. “Why?” was all you said, your tone and gaze sharp as a fine dagger, effectively slicing through his flesh and bones straight into his heart. He held your [e/c] gaze as his cerulean eyes softened, little ripples in the ocean. “They needed my help,” he said unapologetically, “like they always do,” he said much gentler. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset you even more. You clicked your tongue and unwrapped your arms from around him, sitting up. He immediately missed your warmth and affection but imitated your movements, now sitting opposite to you. “I know, but… I don’t know, can’t you just slap him, call some help and leave?” You waved your hand uselessly, defeatedly. He knew you knew his answer and that it wouldn’t please you one bit. “I have to finish it once I started it, you know it,” he sighed. Just like you knew that there was no way he’d turn a blind eye to crime happening. You learned not to argue with him about that the hard way too. He still regretted the huge fight and all the dishes that were broken in the process. You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled sharply. “Why do I even bother?” You looked at him in disbelieve, he felt his heart drop in his chest. You let out a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, whatever, you don’t care what I have to say anyway,” that hollow laugh again, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “Just…,” you bit your lower lip, “just stay there, do whatever,” you sniffled, “exhaust yourself and let some-some fucking bastard to k-kill you,” you broke down, the scenario playing in your head with crystal clear image. Your mind spent so much time creating it that it now felt more like a memory than just a work of imagination. Your body was shaking violently as loud sobs escaped your throat, hot tears pouring down your cheeks, creating wet puddles on the covers.

He watched the scene mutely; there was nothing left to say. He has lost you. He could feel it. His heart shattered. He tried to say something but words wouldn’t form, he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. But he needed to do something. You were breaking in front of his very eyes for god’s sake! He broke out from his trance and laid his hand gently on your shoulder. Your hands gripped the covers even tighter and your eyes looked at him with so much fire. An arson of hurt, rage and betrayal. He didn’t waste a second and pulled you into him. His ribcage a wall against which you beat to let you go. “L-l-l-let me g-go! Y-you don’t care any-anyway!” you yelled, giving up, your hands limply hanging beside you now. He rubbed little circles on your back with his hand, the other one was fisted in your hair. You were a blur of colors as his eyes filled with tears. “I do, I do care so much,” he whispered weakly but he knew you were listening by your efforts to stop sniffing and sobbing, even the shaking of your shoulders got weaker. “I’m just trying to make this world safe for you… if anything happened… if anyone hurt you and I could have prevented it…” his breathing was so fast yet his lungs were lacking oxygen. Just the possibility of you getting hurt by an individual he could have caught was enough to make him panic and lose it. You hugged him too. Holding him just as tightly as he held you. “I wouldn’t… I couldn’t go on,” he finished, tears now streaming down his face. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing shakily, and he turned his head to kiss your hair. “I love you so much, you have no idea,” he rested his forehead on your head, “I need to know you’re safe.” He kissed you again and stroked your back, drawing little circles again. “How can I be safe, when my world is literally out there, breaking himself, pushing himself… killing himself…” you whispered quietly, too exhausted by everything to do anything but cry silently, just letting the tears flow. He sighed and shook his head. “Anything could happen you know? You could never, ever, make sure this world is safe for me, anything could happen,” you said again. He pulled you to him even more, almost suffocating you but you paid it no mind. You needed to get this out, needed him to hear this. You couldn’t take this anymore, and neither did he. “A car could hit me,” his breath hitched, “I could get really sick,” a shake of his head, “I could fall and hit my he-” “Stop it,” he yelled, effectively shutting you up. His whole body was shaking, you felt his hot tears drenching your shirt just as yours did to his. You were both mess, you wanted to laugh so badly at how pathetic you both were. “Anything could happen,” you repeated quietly, “but maybe, just maybe, I could enjoy the time I have left? With you?” You offered and carefully peeled yourself off him to look him in the eyes. His blonde bangs were glued to his face by tears. He looked so ridiculous, like a medieval fool. Your fool. Your stupid, selfish fool with savior complex. Your perfect fool. You looked at him like he was your sun and his gaze mirrored yours. And then he nodded. A movement so subtle you almost didn’t notice. Then he did it again. “Yeah,” he said, merely a whisper. “I would,” a little laugh, “I would love that,” he looked at you, his eyes sparkling.

You launched forward, catching him off-guard. You both fell on bed, laughing and crying at the same time. Happy. Finally happy. When suddenly… “Just let me finish young Midoriya’s training. That’s all I’m asking. I won’t engage in every battle – I swear I will try – just let me finish that and I’m all yours, just yours for all eternity,” he whispered apologetically as he played with your hair and looked at you so lovingly you were not able to say no. “You’ve just ruined everything, you know? I will allow that but you have to promise no more fights – or at the very least no fights outside your time limit,” You said, raising a clenched hand with only a pinkie sticking out. “I promise,” he said, chuckling as he caught your little finger with his. Nothing was perfect, but with him there was always a chance it would be so some another day.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #toshinori angst #all might angst

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writermask-0807-backupblog · 1 year

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TOSHINORI YAGI X READER {TRISTIS OCULIS." or: "YOU HAVE SAD EYES," }

A/N: It's Writermask, and it's my first post as the ✨BaCkUp bLoG✨!!! I officially got permission by Mod Eve (once-upon-a-scenario, you should really check them out if u already don't follow them), and am so happy!!! 😊this is a new writing s t y l e I've tried, and I hope u enjoy!!

Warnings: ooc Toshinori, mentions of blood, implications of abuse and depression.

HIS eyes are blue.

They're the most bluest you've ever seen- bright, bright sapphire hues, the rich spill of azure and cerulean over the black of the canvas, a slice of cloudless skies, the crystalline haze of the ocean.

And because you can recognize and dissect the character of a person through the shapes and colors of their eyes, (you know that sounds weird, and vaguely disturbing, even inside your head)- you know his eyes are the eyes of someone trustworthy, the eyes of a caring, friendly person- not the usually jaded, maybe even angry individual you usually encounter on these late night shifts.

(It's… refreshing, in a sense. Sort of, anyway. At least he's not glaring at you, impatiently grinding his teeth as you check his things out, or radiating the stifling aura of someone intimidating and not to be trifled with (like that Yakuza man with the cold, golden eyes that you met last week, but you digress), like the usual pew of customers that trickle in at this time of the night.

Instead, this man just looks… incredibly tired even as he manages a polite, feeble smile for you, and his skinny, frail-looking frame slumps with fatigue, like he's particularly world-weary today- as though the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders, heavy with a burden no-one but himself could possibly bear.

There are purple shadows under his eyes, and his cheeks are sunken in, and there's a certain hollowness to the way his sunflower-hued bangs veils his thin, tired face, a certain resignation to the way the sharp planes of his shoulders are hunched together, as he droops tiredly, looking like he's about to black out at any given moment.)

His eyes- those bright forget-me-not blues- they're the eyes of someone bright and cheerful (just… not right now), the eyes of a soft, caring person. They hold true kindness in them- the rare sort of kindness that's genuinely heartfelt, and you can already tell that this tall, lanky skeleton of a man has a big, big heart, and honestly, you have a shrewd feeling that he offers this silent gift of kindness- this unaffordable, rich gift of anyone and everyone who needs it.

And without even knowing this stranger, you just know he's the type of person who'd make a good hero. (Or maybe, the sort of person who's already a great hero, in his own way.) But despite all that, you glimpse something below that bottomless blue of his empty gaze, something hollow and empty, almost like…

Melancholy. Loneliness. Sadness.

And it’s contagious, somehow, in some way or another, and your heart aches for him- because you know that feeling all too well to not be acquainted with its presence, to the agony and inner turmoil that ensues with its touch.

The wilting look of frailty, of fragility in his lowered eyes reminds you of your own dark days- (of spending time curled in on yourself, of the constant hunger roaring through your stomach, of the gaping void of loss in your heart, the wet feel of metal flooding your mouth, of screaming and screaming and screaming for a help that never came-!)

You blink back the sudden bitter sting of memories flooding your mind, and you stare absently at him- at this poor, broken ghost of a man and wonder if this is how you once looked- once upon a time when you lost everything and everyone and had no more purpose to live, and his items suddenly goes limp in your hand as you lower them to the surface of the counter. The words spill out before you can stop them- hold them back, and for some reason, they taste sour on your tongue as you unconsciously murmur them out loud.

"Tristis Oculis."

The blonde startles at the sound of your voice slicing the silence apart, as though he's forgotten your presence for a moment, and then he straightens immediately, hands clenching into fists at his sides, as he goes stiff-shouldered and rigid-spined, like he's ready to be attacked. Despite the cordial smile that's still twisting his thin lips as he realizes there's only you- the entranced cashier behind the counter, there's a wary look in those tundra blue eyes as he tiredly meets your flustered gaze, but there's also confusion veiled behind the fatigue, curiosity laced behind the wariness.

"Sorry?"

He asks mildly, and you falter, breath hitching in your chest, eyes widening in absolute horror, as you realize that you've just voiced your musings aloud, and you slap your exasperated palms over your mouth, petrified at your blunder.

Pure and absolute mortification and embarrassment dawns on you as you realize what you'd just spoken, and you bow immediately, a hurricane of apologies falling uncontrollably from your lips, as shame weighs heavily in your chest, accompanied by the familiar stitch of gnawing guilt knitting your insides together into an uncomfortable, anxiety-induced bunch. You can feel heat rush to your face as your cheeks ignite in a wild, brilliant shade of ashamed scarlet.

You truly are sorry sorry sorry, you really hadn't meant to offend him any sort of way, you hadn't even meant to mutter that phrase aloud, you just-... You're awkward, and not really good at this, and you're deeply sorry, you really are. Sorry sorry sorry.

You tell him as much, your arm flailing about in wild, panicked gestures as you scrabble to bow even more deeply for apology, and you're pretty sure you've confused the poor man even more, as now he's blushing heavily too, wheezing something along the lines of "No, no, there's no need to apologize, really, it's fine!" as he forces a strained, awkward smile for your sake- an effort that doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the terror clutching at your chest and the panic flooding your veins.

(Really, he's too kind-hearted.)

"But really, what did you mean by that phrase? I'm not… exactly familiar with it. "

The man says, when your panic finally dies down and all formal apologies has been exchanged between the somewhat exasperated him and your horrified self, tilting his head curiously, the corners of his mouth dipping down in a small, curious frown, and despite the blush of embarrassment coloring the apples of your cheeks, you can't help but compare him to an eager puppy. An eager, adorable puppy.

As soon as the thought forms, you snuff it out defiantly, cheeks are flaming even brighter at the- the audacity of it! He's your customer, for God's sake!

(But really, overlooking the momentarily halted drowsiness in his lanky, skeletal limbs, the fatigue sagging his shoulders and tiredness creasing his gaunt face, he really looks… cute. Not that he doesn't look cute regardless, but that's not the point!)

You startle nervously when you realize he's still looking at you, with those intensely blue, blue eyes, steady gaze a relentless blizzard, and you wring your hands together in a nervous tick as you begin to explain your… strangeness.

"T-tristis Oculis. It's um," You smile awkwardly at him, hoping to ease the storm of tension rolling thickly through the atmosphere, (that apparently only you seemed to detect, as the blonde seemed too preoccupied with searching your eyes for an answer.) "It's a- um, a Latin saying. It, uh, it means sad eyes."

You answer, stuttering around the dryness in your mouth, and you tongue feels like a heavy, unmoving weight in your mouth as you reply, fingers flexing tightly as you fist the fabric of your shirt in your clenched palms, to soothe your forever worsening anxiety, and you can feel the flush on your cheeks sear even hotter.

He stays silent, unreadable, (you get the feeling that he's normally a very expressive person, but just… not right now. Maybe you hit a nerve, or finally offended him in some way?) and you begin to panic once more. You fumble to say something, to break the awkward, heavy silence but you fail for the proper words as your mind blanks of all coherent thoughts, meek voice withering at the back of your throat as you desperately try to breathe around the knot of panic squeezing your chest, and your heart lodges in your throat, hammering wildly.

Before you can say anything, however, he speaks first, shattering the pregnant silence, and his voice is an incredibly, deceptively soft whisper, like he's on the verge of breaking down.

"How do you perceive my eyes as sad?"

His cobalt gaze is steady and hard- unlike the barely concealed tremors in his voice, and it pierces right through you, and as you try your very best not to shrink and fidget under the heavy weight of his gaze, you get washed by a sudden, strange sensation that feels odd in the most strangest of ways- like he's peering right into your soul.

(But despite the firmness in his stare, you see the minute shifts, see the way he falters, the smallest of breaths hitching in his chest, the slight widening of those powder blue eyes, the edges of darkness licking at his vision. Honestly, it's tragic, in a sense, because it's like looking into a shattered mirror and seeing what had once been yourself.)

Your heart stutters and throttles in your heaving chest, and you swallow thickly, unsure as to how to answer properly, feeling as though you're treading on very thin ice. It doesn't feel like he’s going to hurt you, however. More like how you were going to hurt him, instead.

You're seized by a sudden melancholy, somber feeling, and you feel the embarrassment ebbing away as you meet the crystal blue of his gaze, and you feel like you're sharing something of a very private, intimate moment, despite both of you barely knowing each other at all.

You decide not to lie. This moment feels too intimate, too precious for you to do so.

The truth is heavy and bittersweet on your tongue as you voice it aloud, and there's still a bashfulness in the way you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you reply, cheeks flooding with crimson. (You're pretty sure you resemble nothing short of a very red tomato at this point.)

There's a note of strength, a wavering finality in your tone, however- one that leaves no room for argument.

"You- your eyes looked sad. And I- I know it's probably offensive and probably not my place, but, um, you look like someone that's normally really happy and bright, but- just, just very tired right now. Like you're afraid and broken and you want to be helped, but there's no-one for you to call out for… "

And indeed, despite the genuine friendliness and kindness and care that's thinly veiled behind the tire brimming in the ocean blue of his gaze, he has the saddest eyes you've ever seen- like he's breathed the air of war, tasted the bitterness of death and rot- like he's lost too many people and he's afraid and too broken to lose anymore.

(Like he's been strong for too long.)

(There's something unsaid crossing your tongue, and despite the fact that you don't speak it out loud, you know the both of you can hear it's silent voice- because you're both survivors, and you both can recognize and understand each other's pain, hear the desperation better than anyone else ever will.

"I know that look, because I've been there before- in that dark, dreary place you're in right now.")

When you finally muster enough strength to raise your heavy gaze and meet his blistering stare (it's softened considerably), there's a pearlescent liquid collecting at the corners of his eyes, something raw and painful and filled with pure, unadulterated hurt smoldering in his eyes, and it makes your own eyes water with white-hot emotion.

(Because you know exactly how this feels- know how much relief and liberation fills you when someone recognizes your torment and offers help- no matter how meager it is, when your cracks are allowed to mend, when the agony lessens even if it is only by the mercy of some kind words and a gentle smile.)

And as the late evening light of the dying sun spills through the windows, the filter of waning sunlight silhouettes his sharp, lanky (not-so-stiff) profile in spools of molten gold and honey, highlighting the honeycomb color of his wild, wild mane of a hair, and his eyes, those bright, bright sapphire hues gleam like freshly cut gemstones, forget-me-not blues so very vivid and glimmering with a renewed color and life that wasn't there before.

He's smiling through the tears as he lifts a palm to rub at the corners of his eyes, and it's a tender, soft sort of smile, not quite as bright and cheerful as he might've wanted it to be, all sweet and appreciative and gentle as the corners of his eyes crease into half-moons with the force of it.

(And your heart skips a beat as it lurches forward in your chest, and your breath halts, sitting still in your lungs, and your eyes widen, because his smile is so, so beautiful.)

You suddenly realize that nobody else has noticed his pain, tried to heal his hurt the way you have, and the revelation makes your own heart ache for him in the most bittersweetest of ways, and you welcome the pain that follows.

"And the part- the part where you said I'd make a good hero?"

He asks, and there's sort of a hesitation- a tone of rippling hope and childish innocence in his voice that would make anyone buckle at the knees and coo at him, and you feel your cheeks flush scarlet once again. Had you mentioned that part out loud too? Gosh, you're really awkward, aren't you?

His eyes are blue, and they're brimming with a sort of childish inquisition and the rim of tears and hope that you absolutely cannot bear to crush.

So- bearing your broadest, most brightest grin, you answer honestly, and you can't help but love the way those deep forget-me-not blues seem to light up from the inside out.

"I fully believe it."

{BONUS}:-

(And maybe, you'll never learn the secret that the man you would come to know as Toshinori Yagi, and eventually to your best friend and then to your lover, was really the Number One Hero All Might himself, and that on that day, and many days after that, you would be his hero- the person who'd seen him at his lowest and help him climb back onto his feet once again.)

FIN -

128 notes · View notes

jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

Not sure if u do all Mha characters but could u do an all might angst of him having a daughter he doesn’t pay attention much too?

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Anon, I’m not going to lie, when I first read this request, I was like ehh… idk if I’ll enjoy writing that. And then I actually sit down and write it, and I’m like, WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHY AM I SO INVESTED IN THIS. So anon, you are a genius and you made my day with this request <3. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. TW: Mentions of blood. Masterlist Edit: Part 2 Word Count: 3548. Summary: Adopted by All Might at the age of five, Toshinori Y/N was being trained to become the ninth user of One For All. With the quirk Element which gave you the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, you were set for victory in the hero-society. However, after your quirk was stolen, your path led astray, the clear neglect was getting obvious, day by day, as your father found a new student to mentor.

——————————————————————————————————

The phone didn’t even ring for a second and he had already picked it up.

“Y/N, my child, could you get the door? Midoriya-Shounen has come to visit.”

Silently, you obeyed your father as you promptly left your work.

Midoriya Izuku. It was a popular name in the Toshinori household. His name managed to sneak into every dinner conversation, and every evening walk.

And now, he was just outside the door, seconds away from intruding your peace.

You released a breath, fingers on the door handle. Your shoulders dropped down low and you straightened your spine, standing an inch or two taller.

It was finally time to meet him.

So with your best rehearsed smile that still didn’t reach your eyes, and your well rehearsed speech playing continuously in your suffocating mind, you opened the door.

A bouquet of flowers and an earnest grin– this was the first time you met Midoriya Izuku.

A few seconds passed as both of you stood still, your throat running slightly dry as you saw confusion build up in the young man’s face.

“Um”, he took a gulp and stepped back. “I’m looking for the Toshinori household…?”

You blinked at him before clearing your throat.

“Yeah, you’re at th- um, yeah this is- I mean, I am-”

“Midoriya-Shounen!”

A loud and hearty voice greeted the young boy with a warm hug, apron on, spatula in one hand. You winced as you rubbed the shoulder your father swiftly brushed past.

You pressed your lips together as you stood beside the embracing pair, hands behind your back as you hid them further into your sweater.

“Five minutes early as always, my boy! Come on in!”

With an excited nod, the boy stepped inside the house, slipping his shoes off into the side of the genkan before following your father into the living room.

Unspoken words remained discarded in your mouth.

And they led, and you followed.

“You have a lovely house, All Might! I was really afraid I was going to run late. I had a bit of a heart attack when someone else opened the door… I thought I took down the wrong address, my mother told me it would happen but I was so surprised that I didn’t even think to confirm it beforehand or anything and it was so-”

“Midoriya-Shounen, please. Relax,” Toshinori chuckled, resting his hand on the worried boy’s shoulders. “You are here now. Please, sit down.”

Midoriya ran his hand to the back of his hair, sheepishly rubbing it as he took a seat across from you. His cheeks became flushed as his fingers adjusted the neck of his sweater.

Toshinori rushed into the kitchen without another word, grabbing a plate of meticulously placed mochi in one hand, and a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of water in the other.

Midoriya immediately got up as he saw his mentor struggle through the narrow doorway, extending his arms to take the tray from him.

They set the delicacies on the glass table, and without being told, Midoriya placed three coasters that were piled on the side of the table. His nimble hands made quick work of removing the glasses and pitcher from the tray.

“Always a step ahead, my son!” Toshinori commended with a proud grin that stretched across his tired face.

You moved to the side to make space for your father, tensing your legs so you could cramp yourself in the tiny corner of your tiny sofa.

‘My son’.

You watched as your father approached you, a glass of water in hand. Your eyes brightened.

But your fingers barely brushed the cold glass before your father walked past you.

The loud shut of the door shut the sparkle in your gaze and your jaw seized as you observed Midoriya, who moved to the side for your father who sat in the remaining space.

Your hands immediately guarded the sliver of your exposed neck, the pads of your finger rubbing against your collarbone.

Their lengthy conversation bled into a distance, and like a required prop, you just sat in the corner, spacing out onto the clear surface of the table that stood in between, dividing the pride and the disappointment.

Your lips became dry as the shallow inhales and exhales latched onto the chapped skin of your lips.

Water.

You needed water.

But the only glasses in the room glared back at you, half-empty.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Did I take your glass by mistake?”

Midoriya caught on quickly, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically.

You opened your mouth, drawing a breath in until-

“Fret not Midoriya-Shounen, the glass was yours. I must have forgotten to bring the third glass, there wasn’t enough space on the tray, you see.”

Your father had responded once again. And your unspoken words were discarded before they could even be said.

“Y/N, go get yourself a glass, if you please. And on your way, maybe refill the jug too?”

Midoriya stood up with the jug in his hand, “allow me to help you Toshinori-san!”

“Ah nonsense, she can do it herself, my son.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, your father sat Midoriya back down. “We don’t need to ruin the flow of our conversation, young man! We have much to speak about.”

Midoriya tensed his brows as his gaze lowered. But in the end, with a curt nod, he settled into the comfort of his seat and the jug was placed back on the coaster.

Hours passed. Evening twilight wound into night darkness. The bags under Toshinori’s eyes held greater weight, yet his dark vacant eyes held the reflection of the green-haired man in front of him, gleaming in a halo of pride.

It wasn’t until Toshinori’s lungs gave way to a bloody cough that the pair realised that the jug was empty.

It wasn’t until the pair halted their conversation, glasses in hand, that they realised that the sofa in front of them was empty.

After the last few finishing touches, you stepped back with a breath of relief; your aching hips required some support from your hands, but the corners of your mouth twitched.

An infectious pride was blooming in the depths of your chest, painting a ray of sunshine onto your cloudy face. The apples of your cheeks, full and bare; the crinkle of your eye, unfamiliar but genuine. You held your chin up high with your sleeves rolled to your elbows.

“It looks amazing, Y/N-chan!”

You basked in the sonorous sound of your supervisor, who had just stepped besides you.

“This is revolutionary, Y/N-chan, it truly is… I expected one or two sketch designs, but you… I have no words for how proud I am…”

Your lips turned upwards as you met your supervisor’s eyes, beaming her a wide grin before turning back to your exhibition where before you, set delicately, was the accumulation of two years of hard work.

Five scaled down prototypes of iron suits were set on display– standing tall and noble. Each suit was paired with leaflets in their respective stands, with a bold font printed across the face: ‘The Iron Suit and the Quirkless Hero’.

“I couldn’t afford any mistakes sensei… I just couldn’t. This was my dream. It’s been my dream since I was a child...”

And your inner child couldn’t let it go.

So you grabbed her tiny hand, and pulled her far away from her sorrows, protecting her, nourishing her.

The manifestation of the first quirk was regarded as a mystical phenomena; straight out of a sci-fi movie. But as time passed, quirk manifestations spread into common reality. ‘Professional Heroes’– a profession that would have garnered snickers and laughs a century ago, became the most sought after job globally. As the occurrence of a quirk grew, the government instilled quirk academies to scout the best and strongest quirk. Businesses began funding them when the first few heroes were churned out, and so the race to become the number one hero began from age five for many families.

Like all races, it was a test of strength, endurance, and resilience. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, and only the most courageous could join it.

But there were some who just couldn’t join the race? Not because they didn’t want to, no. But because they didn’t even have the legs to reach the starting line.

Toshinori Y/N was adopted by Toshinori Yagi at the age of five. And already, by such a young age, you were sprinting far far ahead.

Your quirk was Element– the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. Your father watched as he created the most powerful vessel for his ultimate goal: to turn his daughter into the ninth user of One For All.

You had the motivation, you had the strength.

You were thrown head-first into the twisted fate of hero society where nothing could bring greater joy than breaking yourself in the name of progress.

Hero society was a place where the pain of training was the sweetness of improvement, and the scars and fractures were the evidence of determination.

So one fateful day as all good things came to an end, you were walking back home, hair pulled back in two pigtails with a kitty lunchbox in one hand. A bag way too big hung on your ten-year-old shoulders, and your quirk was ripped away, gone forever.

The planes of the neighbourhood harboured pained screams of a disturbed soul that haunted every passing parent for the next two months.

Your legs were torn away in the middle of the race. And all you could do was stare at the passersby who mocked you as you tried to contain your spilling blood in order to survive.

Your smile faded and the storm had returned. Your memories were a recurring nightmare.

And you couldn’t wake up from them.

“Your father will be so, so proud of you, Toshinori-san.”

“Mmm…”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes.

“I know he’ll be proud of you.”

You felt her comforting hand squeeze yours.

“Yes, sensei. He will be.”

Hours went past since your exhibition started. Countless people and countless pats on the back. It was a haze.

“Your call has been forwarded to the automated messaging sys-”

“For god’s sake.”

You cut the phone.

The lines on your forehead deepened as the number of missed calls grew.

Where was he?

Mentally, you replayed this morning’s conversation with your father. You had vividly remembered that you told him three times: “my exhibition is at five, dad. Please don’t be late.”

You had set alarms on his phone with small reminders attached to them: one at 4:00 PM, one at 4:15 PM, and one at 4:30 PM.

Where was he?

Your heart beat a bitter drum as you watched some fathers with roses in one hand whilst the other was pressed against their hips as they gasped for air.

“I couldn’t be late for my angel’s exhibition now could I?”

It was 9:00 PM.

The crowd had died down and you watched as they drained out: proud fathers holding their daughter’s hand, embracing them in unconditional love. Your once eager eyes were tired, exhausted from searching and scanning for the only face you had internally begged for.

Had you not expected it, you would have cried.

Your thumb hovered over your father’s name on your phone, hesitant.

But there was no point. You switched your phone off.

“Hana,” you asked the few friends that were left, “can you help me pack my things please?”

The pitch black darkness dragged the walk back to the nearest bus station. With your hands occupied with bags that contained the remains of your exhibition, periodically, you peered at the dimly-lit empty street behind you.

The street lights flickered sporadically, teasing your lone steps that were getting faster and faster.

The bus ride home was fine. You met a few friends waiting at the stop with their parents. Although when alone on the outer seat, hood still up, your eyes may have lingered too long at the napping daughters resting their head on their smiling fathers’ shoulders.

Your stop approached in forty-five minutes.

It was 10:36 PM when you got off the bus. The usual hustle of your neighbourhood had settled, so it wasn’t too hard to spot a head with green, curly hair leisurely walking towards your bus stop.

“Midoriya-kun?”

The young boy lifted his head from his phone to look around.

You gave him a hesitant wave, receiving a warm smile in return.

“Toshinori-san?” he asked, taking off his earphones.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.”

You shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Wha- what are you doing here?” you blurted, staring at the ground.

The abrasive nature of your words caused Midoriya to stand straighter. He blinked a few times before answering.

“Oh um, All Might called me over for a chat. He told me you weren’t home so he said it would be a good chance to discuss more… things?”

The young boy ended his sentence with a wavering voice, getting quieter as he saw your body stiffen.

In the moments of your wordless exchange, a warm ache began to develop in the walls of your skull.

Midoriya’s gaze, which was travelling to and fro, fixed upon the bags hanging from your wrists.

“How about you? Um… Where did you come back from?”

Your mind tried to console your heart, hushing the bubbling feelings of resentment towards the boy in front of you.

You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders drop low.

You were tired.

“I came back from an exhibition.”

“Oh really? Were you presenting? Is that what the bags are for?”

Your lips found themselves smiling at Midoriya’s observation.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “they have my exhibition prototypes in them.”

Your ears perked up at the approaching sounds of relaxed footsteps.

“May I see them please?” Midoriya asked.

Finally, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.

You mumbled, passing him the bag with your prototype inside. “Yeah… sure.”

Minutes passed in complete silence. Timid glances found themselves analysing the look on Midoriya’s face, who was carefully reading the contents of your pamphlet, cross-checking it with your prototype. You felt a warm flush on your cheeks as the boy looked up at you, eyes wide and bright.

“You made this? By yourself?”

He was baffled: eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling. You pressed your lips together in attempts to hide your grin as you nodded.

“It took me two years.”

Midoriya carefully placed your prototypes back into their respective boxes, passing the bag back into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this at all- I mean, of course, you’re All Might’s daughter but just, being quirkless and everything? I just-” his expressive face comforted yours.

“You’re so cool, Toshinori-san. You’re so cool!”

The swells of your cheeks began hurting as you stared at Midoriya, your waterline becoming annoyingly emotional.

“Thank you, Midoriya-kun…”

“Please,” he chimed, “call me Izuku.”

You let out a chuckle just this once, sneaking a swipe to wipe the corner of your eyes.

“In that case, please call me Y/N.”

Izuku’s wide grin ignited a mellow flame in your disappointed heart. You cursed your heart for every ill thought that crossed your mind about the boy that stood in front of you.

“I am honoured to meet a brilliant mind like yours Y/N-san… The amount of lives this can save… The amount of innocent lives this can protect from harassment… You’re amazing Y/N-san,” he repeated, bowing down.

You blushed, your hands immediately reaching out towards the young boy to lift him up, “oh, Izuku-kun, please don’t bow…”

“My younger self thanks you Y/N-kun…” he whispered.

There was a small crack in his soft voice.

Your eyebrows twitched and the cold air travelled through the small opening in your mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘younger self’...?”

Midoriya’s big green eyes were frosted on the surface. He straightened his back, staring off into the distance.

“I’m sure your father told you, Y/N-san”, he cleared his throat.

“I was born quirkless.”

Your fingers felt cold.

“Quirkless…?”

“Yes. I was born quirkless. The doctors didn’t know what caused it. My parents had a quirk. My mother can float small objects towards her. And my father has a powerful quirk: fire breathing.”

His voice began quivering and the young boy had to take a pause.

“All I wanted as a young child was to become All Might. I still do, to be honest. I had a little All Might onesie. And my mother bought me all the All Might action figures. I would play hero with her. She used to act like a citizen in distress and for that short amount of time, I was her hero. And that led to me wanting to become everyone’s hero.”

His tears reflected the moonlight waning in the sombre sky.

“I was five years old when I was told my dreams were basically worthless. That I should give up… and become a police officer.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, hiding your hands inside your pockets.

“I didn’t eat for three days. I couldn’t stomach anything, so at some point, I-I guess I ended up fainting, and my mom had to rush me into the ER.”

Two bodies stood underneath the cold, clinical street light, incredibly still.

But the loud noises pinched you to disturb the silence.

You had to know.

“But… what about your quirk now?”

The door creaked open into a fully-lit living room. Toshinori was sitting in front of the television, phone in hand, swiping through his texts.

Trays and glasses– two glasses exactly– were lazing on the table with cubes of melting ice piled up on the bottom. The cushions were moved to the side, and the couch covers relaxed comfortably with deep wrinkles.

An unnoticed figure slipped inside the house and Toshinori felt two eyes settle onto him.

“Y/N, when did you come back?”

Nothing.

“My child,” he stood up, reaching towards your shoulder.

You shrugged his hand off as soon as it touched you, lost in the voices consuming your mind.

“Y/N! What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s eleven.”

“What do you-”

“It’s eleven!”

Your father’s body tensed as he stepped back, his brows knitted in pain and confusion.

Your throat, strained and dry, struggled to find words as it battled against the bitter rise of bile.

Your jaw trembled as your eyes burnt with unshed tears in the now blurring room. The cries of betrayal felt so weak. What should have been anger– a hellflame spreading throughout your house, came out a sniffle and singular tear. Anger that should have engulfed the sounds in the room and overpowered the drone of the television and the tick of the passing time was nothing but suppressed by the overbearing eyes that scrunched in concern.

“What do I have to do to get you to pay attention to me, dad? What do I have to do…” you weeped, your hands consoling your own body because no one else present could.

The cries of betrayal felt so weak because it was someone else’s incompetency, someone else’s fault that pained your wailing heart. And the cries of a wailing heart begging to be loved was a silent sound that overpowered all sense of self.

“What does he have that I don’t, dad? What did he do that I failed to do?”

You broke down into his arms. You found refuge despite his false embrace; it repulsed you because you knew it was going to be short-lived.

It was a fake.

“Why did I have to find out that my father was quirkless from someone else’s mouth?”

You felt his chest fall as your father squeezed you tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dad?” you whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Am I not worthy enough… Was I not worthy enough to find out?”

Your ears preened, begging for reassurance, begging to hear: ‘that’s not true my child’.

But it never came.

“I’m sorry for not being strong enough, dad… I’m sorry for letting him steal my quirk, dad.”

You tore away from his chest, sniffling away your tears for the last time.

“But why didn’t you tell me that One For All could work with quirkless too?”

Toshinori crossed his hands in front of him as he averted his gaze from yours.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Was I not good enough! Am I so weak without my quirk? That you blindly gave your power away to a boy you met a day ago! Dad, look at me!” you screamed, far too lost to control yourself. “Why couldn’t you give it to me, your own goddamn daughter? What did I not do dad, what did I not do!”

Why did All Might extend his hand to save Midoriya, when his daughter gave up her whole life to burn for his dreams?

His silence spoke a thousand words, so it was about time you spoke your final words.

“You’re a great hero, dad. But that’s all you’ll ever be… you’ve been a great hero but you’ll never be a great dad.”

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