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jomamaofficial · 30 days

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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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thebest-medicine · 3 days

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Day 24: Pinned

Tickletober 2023 - My Hero Academia - Class 1A - lee!Bakugo, lee!Midoriya

[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]

[ao3 link]

A/N: first my hero academia fic??? neeed!!!! angry boy need tickled sometimes. god help whoever does it tho.

Summary: Bakugo is all three things: loud, angry, and ticklish. One of them is less obvious than the others, and he wants to keep it that way.

Words: 1.4k

…

Loud, angry, and ticklish — these were among the many words that could describe Bakugo Katsuki. Like his quirk, he was often explosive with his voice and his temper. Ticklish, though? That was a pretty well-hidden feature, and one that not many would be willing to try with him! Not that anyone had in a long time.

Until today.

The sound of tittering laughter and chatter, much too loud and too cheery to be school-related, drew an already grumpy Bakugo toward the common room of the dorms. It seemed to be the place to be, he realized, when he walked in and saw most of his classmates relaxing around the couch, laughing and talking.

“What the hell are you all laughing about in here?” Bakugo barged in, asking loudly.

“Bakugo! Come on, Sero was just telling us the funniest story about—” Ochaco waved him over.

Bakugo cut her off. “Why don’t you losers stop sitting around laughing and wasting all day and get some goddamn work done! Ugh, Icy Hot and I have been working twice as hard as the rest of you because of our extra classes, and now you’re all slacking off?! It’s gonna be way too easy for me to surpass you! Where’s the challenge in that!? Now get off your asses and stop slacking!!!”

Everyone stared back at him, their giggling long gone.

“It’s Sunday afternoon Bakugo…” Momo sighed.

“Yeah, come on, even heroes need to rest.” Tsu added.

“It’s good for you to relax a little. We’re all still training super hard!” Mina assured her classmate.

“Shut up! You’re all just a bunch of slackers and losers!” Bakugo grumbled loudly.

“Would it kill you to relax? Maybe smile a little?” Kaminari asked.

Bakugo turned to look at him, glaring with fuming rage.

“We’re not even doing anything to bother you, Bakubro, come on!” Kaminari bargained. “If you want to keep studying then go back to your room, you don’t have to sit here watching us relax if you don’t want to join us.”

“I WANT YOU TO TAKE YOUR STUDIES SERIOUSLY SO THAT IT MEANS SOMETHING WHEN I KICK YOUR ASS!!!” Katsuki yelled back.

“Seriously, come on…” Kirishima sighed. “You know we’ve all been working hard, we deserve some chill time!” If he squinted, it almost looked like Bakugo was steaming with anger.

In the dorms, with his guard down, focused on arguing with his friends and surrounded by his classmates, Bakugo didn’t sense the approach of his childhood friend from behind until it was too late.

With a wide grin on his face, Midoriya had managed to creep up behind the grumpy, yapping dog that was Bakugo. He remembered something about his friend from a long time ago, and though he hadn’t tried it in many, many years, he was sure it would help here.

It was a matter of moments between when Bakugo was yelling back at Kirishima and Kaminari and when he finally felt the presence of someone approaching from behind. He ignored it for a second too long. Midoriya’s voice was friendly as it chided. “Kacchan, why are you being so mean?” And suddenly there were accompanying fingers pinching along Bakugo’s sides.

“—GET BACK TO WO-AHHIIHHH!” His rant cut off into a very un-hero-like squeal at the unexpected tickle. Bakugo’s face, which was already red with anger, ripened further as he slowly spun his head to look behind him at Midoriya. “What. The FUCK!!!”

“What just happened!?” Kaminari asked, smirking.

“Was that you Bakubro?” Kirishima said in disbelief.

“Deku, what did you just do?” Ochaco laughed.

“Oh my gosh! Bakugo are you ticklish?” Mina grinned, wiggling in her seat.

“That’s so cute!” Tsu agreed.

“Wait what? I missed it!” Sero turned to face him better.

Bakugo growled. “Deku…”

Midoriya’s eyes widened as he saw Kacchan shift his weight to launch an offensive his direction. “Wait! Kacchan, I’m sorry don’t kill meEE—” He quickly sped off with a squeal out of the common room and into the hall as Bakugo bolted after him as fast as he could without shooting out explosions.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DEKU!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you would react so much!” Izuku laughed as he raced ahead of his rival and old friend.

“SHUT UP AND PREPARE TO DIE!”

The rest of the class left them to it, not wanting to incur the wrath of a furious Bakugo as Midoriya just had. They were grateful to their classmate for allowing them to continue relaxing for a few more hours without having criticisms screamed at them. Bakugo had a point, but so did they. They would have to work hard but still relax hard, play hard.

Down the hall, Shoji picked up the sound of a scuffle before everyone heard crash and tumble followed by the familiar sound of Midoriya’s laughter… though this time it sounded much more frantic than it usually did after a good story or funny joke.

…

Izuku didn’t know what he had been thinking when he’d tried to tickle Kacchan for a brief second in the common room of their dorm… He had been yelling at everyone and looked so angry, Izuku just wanted to distract him for a moment and maybe get him to relax or smile a little. He remembered having tickle fights with Kacchan when they were kids. It had been a long, long time. This time, he got the jump on him, just for a moment. It was in front of their classmates, so other people now knew Kacchan was ticklish. It made sense that he was so angry, he was angry a lot. But, it had been nice to catch a hint of his smile. Even if he had embarrassed him a little.

Now that he’d done it, though, he realized too late the wrath he had provoked.

Izuku sped down the hall as fast as he could, trying to race back to his dorm room in time to try to lock himself inside—though… Katsuki seemed mad enough that he might just activate his quirk and blow the door down. He didn’t make it far enough to find out, though. Bakugo crashed into him, shouting obscenities as he knocked them both to the ground.

“Wait! Kacchan don’t! Not out here!” Midoriya yelped as Bakugo landed on him. He knew he was caught.

“Stupid Deku, see how you fucking like it!!” Bakugo growled, pushing Midoriya into the floor and kneeling over his thighs. He reached down, jabbing harsh, tickling fingers ruthlessly into Izuku’s sides. They squeezed up along his ribs and down to his hips. Izuku screeched out a laugh before flailing helplessly where he was already pinned. He tried to reach back behind him to grab or block a hand.

“KACCHAHAHAN— I’M SORRYHEHEHE!” Izuku shrieked through his laughter. “IHIHIHI- I CAHAHAN’T BREHEHEATHE!” He cried, kicking into the floor.

“Good! Die!!!” Bakugo answered, loud and angry, as he made a grab for Izuku’s wrist and hauled it up over his head.

“NOHOHOHO— STAHAHAHAHOP!” Izuku cackled.

Bakugo drilled fingers into his exposed armpit, and Midoriya felt tears welling in his eyes. Bakugo was ticklish, certainly, but Midoriya was… well neither of them had ever met anyone else so sensitive. How strange a trait for one determined to be the number one hero — to crumple and fall apart in the face of some simple tickling. Though, he wouldn’t call what Bakugo was putting him through ‘simple’.

The way Bakugo saw it, the others may have seen that he was ticklish, but if he could make enough of an example out of Midoriya, no one else would dare try it again. He hoped.

Midoriya’s other arm flailed and tapped out helplessly on the ground as Bakugo took advantage of every ticklish spot he could remember. The tickling hand even snuck down beneath him to claw against his stomach. “PL-PLHEEHEHEHEASE KACCHAN IHIHIHIHIHI CAN’T! CAHAHAN’T TAKE IT! AHAHA-STAHAHAHAHAHA—”

Katsuki leaned in closer, still tickling viciously. “Never. Ever. Fucking. Do that again.” He paused for a second, his hand freezing against Izuku’s sides. “Understand me?”

Izuku breathed in a few times, panting for air and giggling each breath out. After a few seconds, he spoke up. “Y-You mean like in front of people or just in general?”

Bakugo’s face went red as he shouted, “IDIOT!” and started tickling anew.

“WAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO!”

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mirukosbitchywife · 1 year

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aizawa who adds an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee.

mic going into a coffee shop to get him and aizawa coffee and rattling off his order and when he gets to how much sugar to add to aizawa the baristas smile drops. "eraserhead?" she asks. the rest of the workers go silent. there's a mad rush to get to the back of the shop so they don't have to make an order, leaving only the person operating the register, who closes her eyes and sighs in resignment. "haha how'd you know, listener?" mic asks giving finger guns, the barista drops to the floor

keigo being told when meeting aizawa the first time to never comment on his drink of choice if he sees it. naturally this makes him curious so when he spots aizawa in the communal area he decides to send a feather to scope it out, and he feels as aizawa opens no less than 20 sugar packets and dump them into the cup. when aizawa walks out keigo is stood there trembling in fear as aizawa walks past him casually

denki walking into the dorm kitchen in the middle of the night to get a snack, stumbling upon aizawa dumping, quite literally, a cup of sugar into the coffee. his eyes widen in horror and he drops his phone. aizawa just slowly turns around, looks him the eyes, says "no one will ever believe you if you tell them" and FUCKING LEAVES.

bakugo mistaking aizawas water bottle as his own and as soon as he tastes it he spits it out and screams WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. aizawa just casually says "oh, that's mine." and he freezes. when asked later he won't elaborate on what it was but denki nods towards him and he nods back.

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mary-dreamy · 4 months

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i love fame aus so much like!!!

Jirou being a national punk sensation, along with Tokoyami and Shinsou, and dating media darling Momo, who's also a renowned model✨

Just!!! Them trying to avoid paparazzi on their dates!! Momo attending Jirou's concerts and everyone going wild at how Momo knows all the lyrics by heart!!! Jirou being front row to Momo's fashion shows and being super vocal about how awesome her gf is!!!! I can almost see all of the cute edits of them qjajwjw

I JUST GO FERAL THINKING ABOUT THEM AJSJDJD

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE REST OF THEIR FAMOUS FRIENDS

Like momojirou going to bakugou's michelin star restaurant, making an appearance on mina's viral tiktok account, going on trips with midoriya and uraraka (fellow sweetheart media couple), supporting tsuyu and iida on their olympic dreams, etc.

And can't forget their ties with the Todoroki family, everyone's favorite nepo babies.

I JUST LOVE FAME AUS AND EVERYONE BEING CONNECTED TO EACH OTHER AND BEING WEALTHY AND FABULOUS AND WJAISJSJ

#someone write this for me pls #like i don't have the strenght for it but i NEED IT #also kirishima is a firefighter in this au #it's very important for me that you know that #he gets famous by accident by being on mina's account and everyone thirsts SO HARD FOR HIM #bakugou too obvs #bnha headcannons #bnha #mha #mha fic #momojirou #momo yaoyorozu #mmjr #krbk #class 1a #headcanon #fame au

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roamthecountryover · 1 year

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Ashido: Guys! Aizawa-sensei won't come out of the hallway!

Sero: What's wrong?

Ashido: I dunno. I think he's angsting over his tragic backstory.

Kirishima: Again? What do we do?

Midoriya: Hmm... tell him I said something.

Ashido: Like what?

Midoriya: Anything factually incorrect. It should snap him out of it.

*(spongebob voice) two seconds later*

Aizawa, bursting in: Midoriya, did you just say that the Sun is a fucking planet-

#crossover #wrtco fic #mha #bnha #my hero academia #the owl house #wrtco #toh #shouta aizawa #wrtco incorrect quotes #class 1a #mina ashido #hanta sero #izuku midoriya #eijirou kirishima #dadzawa

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jaded-ghoster · 1 year

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Erasermic relationship reveal except when class 1-a finds out and starts assuming all the reasons for why they hid it- Discrimination, it gives villains a weakness to use against them, etc.- Aizawa shuts it all down and says the real reason they kept it a secret, the real true reason, is because being a hero couple makes them #1 on the Hero Commission’s list to have even more random children put into their custody when the situation arises. Cue the class’s eyes shifting to Eri. Cue Eri’s eyes shifting back to them.

#class 1a #mha #erasermic #mha headcanons #mha au #mha fic #eri #eri wont take this bullshit

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pinkykats-place · 11 months

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BakuDeku ft. Deku returns to UA // Post Dark Deku

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked on titles are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check ratings.

Art work not mine … by @luliadraws

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Do Not Disturb by surveycorpsjean

Summary: Apply enough force, and something is bound to break.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Deku's Response by Flipper96

Summary: Three days after Izuku returns to UA, he finally processes Kacchan's apology.

{One Shot}

Rated- Explicit

hold me till i feel better by leahistyping

Summary: Katsuki had never felt like this before.

So many emotions were swarming through his head at once. He felt anger, frustration, sadness, and especially longing.

He never knew it’d hurt so much to be so Izukuless. The damn nerd was always chasing after him, whether he wanted him to or not. But he was always there, even if Katsuki pushed him away again and again.

(or, after Izuku returns to UA, he gets a fever. but luckily for him, Katsuki’s there to help him).

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

clutch by varooooom

Summary: Class A comes to the mutual agreement that someone should spend each night with Izuku for the time being. They start bidding for shifts and arguing over who should get to go when. It's - Izuku stays silent the whole time, trying not to cry as his friends compete with each other for the chance to take care of him. It's so silly and his heart feels so full.

They didn't ask for his protection. He didn't ask for theirs. But heroes save everyone, and right now -

Right now, they need all the help they can get. They're stronger together. Izuku understands that now.

{One Shot}

Rated - SFW

Where Are You (and I’m So Sorry) by @amarisllis

Summary: When Midoriya leaves, he writes a letter to everyone in class 1A. While he’s gone, Bakugou decides to write a letter of his own.

And when Deku gets back, he's shocked to stumble onto a few folded up pages containing Kacchan's messy handwriting.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

My eyes are damp from the words you left by ElStark

Summary: And in a last burst of strength Izuku managed to lift his arms and wrap them around Katsuki’s neck, “I love you,” he hadn’t written it in the letter, because he’d known Kacchan would rip it as soon as he’d read the words, but he’d thought about it since, how he hadn’t been able to let ‘I love you’ be the last words he told his childhood friend, the love of his life. “I love you so much, Kacchan, so much.”  “What’s going on?”  “I think he’s delirious from the pain, help me lift him up.”  Kacchan moved away, and someone made a sound that lifted the hair at the nape of his neck for how painfully heartbroken it sounded.  “Fuck, I’m here, I’m here.” Kacchan was immediately back at his side. “what the fuck, Deku,” he whispered, shaky, holding onto Izuku tighter.  Only then did Izuku realize, the sound had come from him. “Kacchan, I love you.”  “Stop that,” Kacchan snapped, “Stop making it sound like goodbye, you piece of shit.” 

Izuku laughed. Or maybe he cried harder, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Soft. So soft. byThatCrazyFangir1

Summary: Katsuki and Izuku take some time for themselves after Izuku is brought back to U.A. Izuku rests in his room, and Katsuki keeps him company. They share a bed and their feelings.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

April Showers by bkdkforthebirds

Summary: He left in April.

Left with nothing but a note and the ghost of his presence in the pouring rain.

Katsuki should’ve seen it coming after everything that happened with the league and Shigaraki. It was the obvious next move to the nerd, but…

But at what cost?

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

my deku, my izuku by hirakagi

Summary: After Katsuki almost lost Izuku for good during the war, he knew he needed to tell him the truth the next chance he got. He was given a taste of what it would’ve been like to never get to, and he wasn’t going to let it happen. Izuku had to know. And now he did.

But where did it leave them?

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Together by @silverynight

Summary: "If you think I'll let you leave me again, you're completely mistaken, Izuku," Katsuki growls, grip tightening around his waist.

Confusion hits him for a moment and it only grows when Katsuki starts wiping away his tears with his thumb.

"It's not that... I mean I left the UA, I didn't... It wasn't you specifically... I–"

"You left me," Katsuki narrows his eyes again. "Because it's different between us; I know I screwed up our relationship many times, but we are different. Our connection is different."

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

With you close, I can sleep by Sewo

Summary: It had been such a long time since he slept. Every night after the green haired boy left, his thoughts just wouldn’t shut up and let his mind rest. Closing his eyes didn��t help when all he could think about was Deku and his letter.

And now the nerd had the fucking audacity to sleep right there in front of him, with his muscles relaxed, his mouth slightly agape, when Katsuki, now the stress of bringing him back gone, had barely the energy to stand up.

— — —

AKA: Two boys with issues have trouble sleeping and find comfort in each other.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

i'll catch you when nobody else will. by yourmomcalled00

Summary: Izuku has an identity crisis in his time as a vigilante. After Katsuki's apology he goes back to UA. Where the only way he can function is if he can see Katsuki's alive. Touch him, or hold him.

When he finally decides to leave again, Katsuki is there to stop him.

***

'Because Deku was his. Losing him was not something that Katsuki wanted to repeat.

Ever again.'

Complete | 2 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

no one can hurt you now by brainrotprofessional

Summary: "Relax." Katsuki gruffs, when Izuku's muscles stay locked up. Then, quieter, "you're safe now."

He whispers the words into Izuku's hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo tinged with rain. Katsuki's only answer is tears finally soaking his t-shirt as Izuku cries soundlessly, ever altruistic even in his sorrow.

Stupid nerd. Katsuki would do anything for him.

— — —

Or, the fic where post-vigilante Izuku needs a hug, and he gets one. (from Katsuki).

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

The Unattended Moment by bigcatsmallcat

Summary: Maybe all he needs is a night of respite from the chaos brewing all around the confines of UA. Knowing his family and friends and most civilians are accounted for. A comfy bed with clean-smelling sheets. His favourite person in the entire world right next to him, where nothing and no one can hurt them.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

Paragon by usunee

Summary: Deku smiled and glanced up at him. His fingers crept up and toyed with the hem of the Katsuki's shirt. “Why — well, why were you sleeping next to me, Kacchan?” Deku asked, staring holes into the shirt. His fingers found a stray thread and began picking at it.

Katsuki’s heart started thundering suddenly and he was very thankful it was still dark, though he wondered if Deku could feel the heat radiating from his face. He wasn’t even sure why he felt flustered, only that his useless brain couldn’t provide an answer that wasn’t completely humiliating.

— — —

Or, the night that Deku returned to UA and, for reasons even he didn’t know, Katsuki took it upon himself to take care of him.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

A Helping Hand by shalia_earante

Summary: Post Chapter 327

Katsuki and Izuku are left alone in the bath after everyone brings him back to UA. Katsuki notices Izuku favoring a sore shoulder so his innocent offer of a helping massage becomes not so innocent...

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

unstoppable forces by darkwingsandmages

Summary: There's a fine line between genius and insanity. And right now, All Might is using that line as a goddamn jump rope.

— — —

or, Izuku needs to rest while on the run from All for One, and Search only works on humans...

Complete | 6 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent by ElStark

Summary: “My body is doing this on its own!”

Hands reached for him, yanked his mask off, scratched at his face, pulled at his hair until chunks came off.

“I’m sorry!” they were crying.

“It’s okay,” Deku said, letting himself be taken under. “I know it’s not your fault.”

And then.

Like a meteorite streaking the sky in red and orange, like a secret wish come true, Kacchan was there.

Deku felt his eyes widen as he took in the golden brightness his childhood friend was bathed in, like he held the purest form of sunshine beneath his very skin.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

At Least for Tonight by Anon_nym

Summary: After returning to UA after being a vigilante for weeks, Izuku feels out of place.

Katsuki notices.

One Shot | NSFW

midnight coward by manegul

Summary: Izuku flinches. “I made everyone worry again, didn’t I?” He sounds exhausted, self-deprecatingly curling in on himself.

Katsuki sighs. “Everyone cares about you, a lot, okay? Don’t— don’t treat it as something that burdens them.”

He knows, because he’s had to break down the hardness and walls around him, to realize that others weren’t looking down on him, but rather, looking out for him.

Izuku’s shoulders slump at his words, as if it was all he needed to hear, and he turns towards Katsuki, and says, “I had a bad dream.”

One Shot | SFW

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angryrantsofdomesticity · 4 months

Text

Cursed Erasermic Fic Prompts:

Present Mic Vs. Reader (insect) Present Mic is a hot, hip & happening Radio host, Highschool teacher, & Pro hero...and you are a terrible bumble bee hell bent on ruining his day off!

Endeavor is the president of the Home Owner's Association & he's dead set on getting rid of those Pesky gays, Eraserhead & Present Mic! How will the 2 new home owners thwart his plans??!!

Seeing as how Present Mic is a bean pole of a man, he gets carried off by a flock of migrating birds. But Mic can't defend himself because these are an endangered species! Now it's up to Aizawa to save the day! But UH-OH Aizawa was in the middle of a mission dressed as a giant sandwich! What could go wrong!?

Mic & Aizawa are getting married! But just before the wedding the flower girl gets her quirk! She turns Bakugo into a gremlin-who wants to eat all the hors d'oeuvres!! Now, Mic, Aizawa, & class 1-A must team up to find the kid & take down baku-gremlin before he ruins the ceremony!

Aizawa gets his ass stuck in a playground tube while Eri is off playing with other children! Mic must work smart & quick to free Aizawa before the other parents take notice!

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k-nayee · 2 months

Text

CHAPTER 2. LET'S BE HEROS!

❝Don't wait for any hero to save you, become one.❞

Vespertilio M.List

Previous | Next

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

"Zukiiiiiii!"

The fourteen-year-old boy lets out a faint choking noise as you glomp him with a smile, face slowly turning red the longer your cherry scent fills his nose. "__-____!"

Pulling back from the hug, you give him a tiny kiss on the nose. "Hello my cutie Zuki. How was your classes today?"

Izuku could only wheeze in reply.

"Great!" You simply loop your arm through his and continue with the conversation, "I was thinking we could go to the movies tom—"

"Hey Deku!" You both tense at the sudden call. Slowly looking back, fear (him) and irritation (you) fill your bodies.

'Dammit. Not him again...'

Bakugo Katsuki stands before you, the embodiment of arrogance and menace.

You grumble under your breath at the stuck-up little boy.

So full of himself and harmful to those deemed below him, it always amazes you that no one had beat his ass yet for such an attitude.

You surely would have if it weren't for Izuku's constant pleads not to.

"K-kacchan..."

"Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that shit?!"

"Y-yes. Sorry," the greenette recoils with a visible flinch causing Bakugo's Groupie to snicker.

"I saw your little shitty dream job report. Care to explain why you said hero when you don't even have a damned quirk!" Bakugo steps up with a sneer pulling at his lips.

Before he and the bullies could get any closer, you get in the way. "Hey! Back the hell up before somebody get their nuts kicked in again!"

A wince passes over all of their faces.

Bakugo takes a hesitant step back despite the emotion of anger on his face. "Hah?! You still wanna play hero? You really think that little fruit bat quirk can beat me?"

"And you think just because you have a Sparky Sparky Boom Man quirk, Imma bow down? Izuku!" thepoor boy jumps at the sudden call of his name with a skittish y-yes?

"Take this off so I can remind him I'm not one of his little friends."

Turning to the greenette, the rosary connected to the choker around your neck hauntingly glistens in the sunlight as you lean towards him.

The groupie's faces pale once realizing what you wanted, internally wincing at the phantom pains from the first time they 'fucked around and found out' with you.

To this day, they never willingly seek out to bully Izuku on their own. Instead, they wait until Bakugo is around to do so since he (unfortunately) wasn't there to meet Moka.

Only a few know what happens when that specific piece of jewelry is removed.

Despite the tellings, many only find it as a decorative piece and play off the past stories as a hoax or tall tale - queue the Angry Pomeranian™ (he gon learn one day...just wait).

Luckily for the Three Followers, they knew well enough to take your word seriously.

Izuku catches on and immediately throws his arms up in an x as he sputters out a reply. "B-but I can't!"

"Wha-why the hell not?!" It was your turn to sputter, a pout of anger mixed with disappointment painting your features from him not removing it.

"Your mother...she ordered me not to listen to you whenever you suddenly threaten to beat someone up!"

"...."

'Damn...change of plans.'

Looking back over at the smug group of bullies, you hold a fist up and wave it at them like an old man.

"You lucky my mama saved y'all from this ass whooping! Now Imma say this once and one time only: this better be the last time you Tokyo Revengers rejects try to jump Zuki!"

"And why should we listen to you? He's nothing but a quirkless nobody!"

"I don't give a flip if he's BooBoo the Fool! What you're not gonna do is bully him when he's done nothing to you. Now keep on and Imma get my momma to call your mom to tell her what you're doing!"

Bakugo nearly flinches at this, quickly fixing his show of weakness. "Yeah yeah! This shit getting boring anyways. C'mon guys, let's go somewhere else..."

He walks away with a mutter of fucking snitch bitch under his breath as his groupie quickly follows behind with sneers of their own.

"____."

You look over to see Izuku avoiding your eyes with a shy, timid grin. "T-thank you."

Before you can say anything, his expression darkens, replaced by a saddened frown. "But...why..."

"Huh?"

"I said why?" He finally faces you, this time with tears filling his eyes, "why do you still hang out with me knowing I'm a quirkless nobody? Because of me, you're bullied too! I-if you hadn't become my friend you w—"

"Enough!" Your stern voice interjects his rambling. With gentle movements, you grab his hand and began walking towards home.

Moments of silence pass until it's broken by a light laugh- your laugh. He looks over to see you already staring at him with a soft gaze.

"You always ask me why, and my answer will always remain the same: because I love you. I care for you Izuku. It hurts seeing you in pain, especially for something you can't control..."

Ba-dump...

Izuku's eyes widen at your words.

Despite hearing you say the words I love you over the years, this is the first time he's ever heard it so differently, so pure with genuine emotion.

The sound of your voice gets fainter as he actually takes in the sight of you.

The way your lips pull into a soft smile that never seems to go away, even as you speak.

Ba-dump...

The way the wind blows through your hair, bringing the pink cherry blossoms within its strands into a graceful dance.

Ba-dump...

And your eyes.

Your eyes sparkle oh so brightly in the sunlight.

Ba-dump...

A breathless sigh leaves the freckled boy's lips in awe.

Sometimes he can't believe you chose to stand by his side even when there were so many others much worthy.

Seeing your cute fanged smile, Izuku realizes you finished talking and quickly breaks out of the trance with a small smile of his own.

After a few more passing minutes, you finally reach the front yard of your house.

"Well...I guess this is your sto-ack!"

You pull him into a tight hug, head nestled into the crook of his neck. Your intimate action causes his pulse rate to skyrocket.

Speaking of pulse...

It has been a while since you last had some...

With the overwhelming smell of his blood getting the best of you, you step out of the hug with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry Zuki...but I can't help myself!"

"Huh? What do-ah!" Izuku's confusion is immediately replaced by a flustered exclamation when you lean towards his neck and bite him.

The sharp sting is quickly replaced by the feeling of you sucking on his neck, making him even more flustered.

Face glowing red, he flails his arms with a squawky scream.

"W-WAIT ____!"

═════════════════*˚✿❀༓❀✿＊˚*══════════════════

You walk down the street with bags of groceries in each hand, tired eyes nearly closing from a lack of energy.

Turns out you didn't get enough blood from Izuku and your mother needed a few (a lot) things for tonight's dinner.

'She lucky she's making [favorite food], otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to this.'

That's a lie. You were going regardless if she sent you.

"No stop! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

You lazily glance over at the commotion and see a crowd of civilians and Pro Heroes as they scream and yell around a...glob of snot?

Looking a little closer, you noticed a boy running towards the booger monster while the adults around do nothing.

"Doing all that yelling, but I don't see any action." You release a snort, "Crazy how much the desire of being a hero is making even little kids risk their lives. Couldn't be me."

With a shake of the head, you continue walking, not too worried since All Might will surely appear in a few minutes. 'As always since no one else seems capable'

Mind set on going home, your heart nearly stops at the next words you hear.

"Poor kid. Aldera Junior High, by the looks of it."

'Wait...what? Someone from my school?'

You snap your head over to confirm what the stranger said to be true.

And sure enough, the pure black color of your school uniform is spotted.

But what causes your curiosity to turn into pure unadulterated fear is the sight of a signature head of green hair and mustard yellow backpack you've just seen nearly an hour ago.

'No...it can't be...is that—'

"IZUKU!!" Your panicked scream pierces the air.

Grocery bags long forgotten, you race over to him only to be restrained by a well-meaning bystander. "Hey slow down little lady. You can't go there, it's too dangerous."

"N-no let me go! LET ME GO!" Tried with all your might to break out of his hold, you're unable to.

You claw at the rosary around your neck and fruitlessly yank on it as tears fall. "I have to save him! Please! Please let go!"

Even with all of your pleads and cries, he doesn't comply, forcing you to watch your bestfriend claw at the slime.

"Quick! Save the boy before this thing kills him!"

Your eyes close as people now decide to help, refusing to look when the gooey blob raises its hand to hit Izuku.

You flinch at the sound of a loud impact. 'Zuki...'

"Pros are always risking their lives. That's the true test of a hero! DETRIOT SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!" All Might was there...

A strong wind forces you to cover your face until it finally dies down.

'Zuki!' Is the first thing to enter your mind. You quickly look around and try to locate him.

Anxiety fills you when you can't find him causing your eyes to tear up once again as you fear the worst.

'Calm down ____...he most likely went home that's all. Get the groceries, drop them off at home, and go to his house.'

After a few deep calming breaths, you set off to the plan, ignoring the intrusive thoughts containing a certain mangled and bloodied greenette.

Your body feels numb, moving at a slug pace as you walk with glazed-over eyes.

It wasn't until you were halfway home did a flash of green enter your vision. "...Zuki?"

Almost as if he heard you, he turns and meets your lost gaze.

Izuku straightens, his freckled cheeks flushing as a bright smile settles on his face.

The bags are dropped for the second time today.

"Oh! Hey, ___-"

His words are cut off when you run over and yank him into your body, holding him close despite his flustered cries of shock.

Pulling away, you hold and study every feature on his trembling scarlet red face in fear of him disappearing again.

Getting your fill of it, anger replaces sorrow and fear. A whack is thrown to the back of his head.

"You idiot! What the HELL were you thinking!"

"Listen ____. I-"

"Like I get the hero dream and all," you began to pace while scolding him, "but to run in without a plan whatsoever?!"

Izuku stays quiet to let you rant for a few more minutes before finally interrupting.

"____!"

He grabs you by the arms, green eyes burning with determination as they stare into your own.

"I want to become a hero. So I'm going to UA next year!"

You could only blink at his words. "...Eh?"

"And I want you to come with me. Let's be heroes...together!"

"EH?!"

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pleathewrites · 1 month

Text

bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 4 excerpt — aizawa & class 1a on what makes a villain read full story here

‘PRO-HERO ENDEAVOR TURNS HIMSELF IN FOR THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF HIS ELDEST SON: IS THIS OUR SYMBOL OF PEACE?’

An article of Dabi and Endeavor’s arrest gets leaked Wednesday morning. Every station, paper, and social media platform picks at the exposed meat of it like vultures to a fresh carcass, fighting over favored limbs and surprise bites.

Class 1A has never been so loud. There’s chatter everywhere.

“Oh my Gods, did you hear — ”

“ — about Todoroki-san —”

“ — his own father — ”

“ — and can you believe Dabi — ”

“ — that crazy villain is Shou’s — ”

“ — brother! The guy who kidnapped — ”

“ — kugou, hey, Bakugou!”

The gentle hand on his shoulder shakes Bakugou from the one-sided staring contest he was having with, ‘that fucking Half ‘n Half — coward hasn’t looked up from his desk the moment he sat down.’

It’s Kirishima, the boy who rescued him, the boy who doesn’t leave his side, who holds his hand and smiles like Bakugou hung the moon and the stars and everything in between.

The boy Bakugou had unknowingly given strength to when Kirishima needed it the most.

“I’m fine.”

Red eyebrows curve upwards in worry, and, ‘fuck,’ Bakugou hates worrying people, “You sure? It’s ok if you’re not. I don’t think anyone is.”

Kirishima looks at, ‘that fuckin’ Half ‘n Half,’ with those same sympathetic eyes, and Bakugou feels something ugly bubble up inside him.

He scoffs, “Please, he’s known this entire time — fuck him!”

Kirishima’s eyes squint, “Why do you think that?”

“Because, if I knew, then there’s no fucking way he didn’t!”

That gets Todoroki to look up, both eyes blown so wide, Kirishima can see his scar visibly stretch, “You knew?”

Kirishima smiles fondly at the angry blond, “Bakugou’s smart like that. Of course he’d figure it out before any of us.”

And, well, Bakugou was about to run up and punch Todoroki in the face right then, but the way Kirishima is looking at Bakugou roots his feet to the ground he desperately wants to sink into. He breathes in deeply, counts like his therapist taught him, and with his exhale, his pounding heart starts to settle into something that feels more like stability. The only thing he’s got the energy left for is to huff and cross his arms, mumbling a pathetic, “Damn straight,” and leaning into Kirishima’s broad shoulder.

Ironically, Kirishima’s warmth cools the fire in his chest.

Todoroki shakes his head in something like disbelief — which, ‘Fuck him, because who is he to not believe me?’ — and asks, “When did you figure it out?”

Bakugou didn’t notice until now how the whole class had quieted down.

He rolls his eyes, “Like, the minute you told Deku and I about Touya at your family’s sad ass dinner. Between that, Dabi’s deranged speech to me, and spending two minutes with Endeavor, it was pretty fuckin’ obvious.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!” Todoroki looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

And, ‘oh,’ Bakugou rolls his eyes. He is so done with this conversation, “I just said, it was obvious. ”

That gets Todoroki to shut up and slump back into his chair.

‘Hm. Fine. I guess IcyHot didn’t know. I can still blame him for being an idiot.’

At the back of the class, Sero chews the end of his pencil and wants nothing more than to offer Todoroki a hug, a cigarette, some kind of an out, but he feels as if he’s been taped to his chair by the paralyzing shock of a lost piece shoved into a puzzle he didn’t know until now remained unfinished — ‘everythin’ makes so much sense now.’

A minute later, Aizawa Shouta walks into his classroom, and prepares for the lecture of his life. Quite possibly, his last.

‘Depending on where Principal Nezu’s loyalties lie,’ Shouta thinks to himself, ‘Well, I’ll find out soon enough.’

The students quiet down with his presence, looking more like deers caught in headlights, waiting, waiting for —

“Everyone, take a seat,” He instructs, and as his students do so, he writes the lesson of the day on the board: Why Do Villains Exist?

Before the last squeak of his underline, before he even turns around, a myriad of answers fill the classroom.

“Free will?”

“Greed?”

“The Devil?”

“Shitty families, apparently…”

Shouta holds up a hand, “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I was not asking you all, directly. At least, not yet.”

His students sheepishly settle into their seats. A flurry of swished notebooks to clean pages hiss and evaporate into a long beat of silence.

Shouta takes a deep breath, and a mental note of the way Todoroki Shouto’s shoulders are hitched up to his ears. Shouta cannot imagine what the child is going through. The minute Shouta saw those articles first thing in the morning, he knew his students would have so many questions — and as their teacher, he has a responsibility to answer them the best he can.

He doesn’t know what is going to happen, now that the secret of Todoroki Touya is out, but here, in these four walls of his classroom, he has a control and a capacity to at least prepare his students for the changes to come — the hopeful good and the anticipated bad.

“I understand some, quite frankly, shocking news has come to light. I know you all have many feelings about that news, and probably many questions.

“I was going through your Hero Curriculum over the last few days, and I’ve realized something — our school does not provide one social class. We teach you all how to fight, how to strategize, how to build your image and your portfolio, but we don’t teach you the ways our society functions. The way it was built to function. You learn Quirk history, but you don’t learn about the very social movements that have gotten you, and me, to where we are today. Our society has a twenty percent non-quirk-user population, yet we don’t teach you about their history, psychology, or sociology.

“We separate the pre-quirk era and the present day, but every study shows that our society functions in the same way, more or less. That’s a bit odd, don’t you think? For our society to be so similar to the pre-quirk era? There’s a saying from that era. ‘Those who refuse to learn history are — ’”

“‘— doomed to repeat it’,” Midoriya finishes.

Usually, Shouta would reprimand Midoriya for speaking out without being called on, but today, a small smile ticks at his lips.

“That’s right. Everyone, write that down. I’ll put it on the board.”

He does so while thinking of the frightening duality of identical blue eyes; resolved azure and guilty cerulean. He turns around and spots a yearning cobalt, surrounded by the thick scar tissue of why he’s doing this. His fingers clench around the marker.

“Today, I’m going to throw a lot of information at you guys. And I know when you hear this information, you all will feel many different emotions, as did I. I want you all to know my classroom is a safe space, and there are no wrong feelings. However, I want us all to respect each other to the end,” Shouta looks at both Bakugou and Todoroki when he says, “We are on each other’s team.”

He waits for his students to nod and give him their go-ahead.

“Now, legally, in my contract, I am not allowed to... theorize to my students — you guys — the relationship between the rise of villainy and a, vastly, failing society. Bit strange, don’t you think? We ask you all, everyday, to risk your lives for this society, but you are not encouraged to learn about it. And I am not allowed to teach you the ways in which this society operates.

“Well, that doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Today, I am going to risk my job. And in return, I just ask you all to listen with open minds.”

There is a collection of distressed ‘Aizawa-sensei…’s that fill the room. It pulls together the pieces of his broken heart.

Shouta starts to write on the board, “Our society is based in cycles — wealth cycles, abuse cycles, poverty cycles, etcetera. Note, I am talking about the majority, not the single bootstrapping underdog. Now, I am asking you all directly — are people born bad?”

Bakugou pipes up, “Fuck, no.”

Shouta witnesses the small uptick of Todoroki’s lips, and nods in approval.

“Correct. Reality is, we look at people who have committed horrible crimes, people like Chisaki Kai. We see a fraction of the pain he inflicted on Eri — and the twisted thing is, he most likely was given the same treatment when he was of that age. Fortunately, with the help of our young heroes, we managed to save Eri from that environment.”

He witnesses the pride in Midoriya’s smile and the dignity in Kirishima’s posture. Shouta prays his lesson will not strip them of it.

He rhetorically asks the class, “But, what would have happened if she wasn’t saved? If she stayed in that environment for another five, ten, maybe fifteen years?” He is answered with blinking, waiting eyes, “Trauma physically changes the brain, especially during your developmental years. Does anyone know when the brain fully develops?”

Kirishima tentatively raises his hand, and Shouta calls on him, “Well, I mean, if we’re considered adults at eighteen, is it because that’s when our brains are fully developed?”

“You bring up an excellent point, Kirishima,” Shouta commends. “Society considers you full, functioning adults when you reach the age of eighteen. However, studies from both pre-quirk and our era state that the brain finishes development as late as age twenty-six, even longer for people with common neurodevelopmental disorders, like ADHD.”

“Wait, shit, I have ADHD — ”

“ — Dude, me too — ”

“— does my sister, that makes so much sense — ”

Shocked murmurs flitter around as Ashido raises up her hand, and cuts through the noise, “Wait, Aizawa-sensei, then why do we use eighteen as the age of being an adult? That’s the age when we’re allowed to make so many life-changing decisions…”

The murmurs stop.

“Why, indeed? You’re asking the right question, and you deserve a truthful answer. Because eighteen is such an important age. It is the age you vote, the age you register to become a Pro-Hero, the age people join our civilian military, the age you are allowed to engage in intimate acts with people older than eighteen… And it is the age you are tried as an adult for any crimes committed.

“Which brings me to my next point — has anyone ever heard of the term, ‘private prisons’?”

To Shouta’s surprise, it is Sero who answers his question, “They’re prisons that’re bought by corporations. Don’t have to follow all the government policies, can make up their own rules and stuff. Profit off the prisoners, too — I read somewhere that it’s compa-comparable? To slave-labor. Is that true?”

Sero Hanta is a student that Shouta would argue is actually immensely intelligent, despite his limited vocabulary. Sero’s file states that he comes from an unremarkable school within one of the lower-income districts, but through the academic year, Shouta has learned that Sero’s knowledge is oddly vast.

Shouta hums in approval, “In a nutshell, that is true.”

He goes to the board and begins to explain the prison industrial-complex using diagrams and metrics that blew his mind the first time he researched into it.

“ — Various people will argue how private prisons are the solutions to overcrowding in federal prisons, ignoring the root causes of mass incarceration, like what we’ve already discussed — police bias, three-strike policies, harsher sentences for non-violent crimes, politician bribery, and so on.”

Kaminari raises his hand, “Is Tartarus privately owned?”

Shouta feels the grim pull of his expression, “Yes. Any guesses as to who by?”

Bakugou answers, “Probably the HPSC.”

Shouta nods, “Correct,” and writes down a grotesquely large but accurate number on the board, “This is how much the HPSC profits off Tartarus, annually.”

Amongst the scritch and scratch of his students’ furious note-taking, Yaoyorozu’s hand shoots up, “I have a question about what you said earlier, that perhaps ties into what you’re teaching now. Are you saying any traumas we endure up until age twenty-six will physically change the way our brains develop? And if so, in what ways?”

“Thank you for noticing that connection, Yaoyorozu. That brings us back to my example of Eri, and if she had stayed in that environment, raised by Chisaki Kai. Anger and hurt feeds the soul just as love and affection does, but the needs of that person changes based on what they are given. What if Eri had grown up to be one of the villains you face? Would you still want to save her, or would your first instinct be to lock her away? You wouldn’t know who she is, where she comes from. You’d only know her crimes, but never what brought her to that point.”

“Sensei... It’s really not fair to use Eri-chan in this example. She’s just a child,” Midoriya defends.

Shouta nods in understanding, “So was every single villain I’ve ever arrested,” His mind goes immediately to that day in the interrogation room with Dabi, the scarred-villain fighting for Himiko Toga’s immunity, the reminder that she is a child before she is a villain.

“But, we can’t excuse villainous actions!”

“You’re right, Midoriya,” Shouta confirms, “Actions have consequences.”

“So…” It is Tokoyami that speaks up this time, “What’s the solution?”

Shouta shrugs, “What is the solution? Two-hundred years of hero-society hasn’t figured that out. Two-thousand years of human society never figured out how to stop their own criminals.”

Silence.

Shouta knew it was a shit answer, but, well, he only started this research a few days ago. His conclusion is that the solution will take a collection of heroes to figure out, and it won’t happen in a day, and most devastatingly, not in his lifetime. He believes in planting the seed, though. He believes in his students to water it with the information he’s given today, believes in them to let it soak in the rays of enlightenment he wished he’d bothered to bathe in twenty-odd years ago.

He believes in his students, in this generation, so much more than his own.

“You are here to learn how to be heroes. You’re not here to learn how to fight — yet, somewhere along the lines, we’ve all forgotten what being a hero meant. So,” He writes on the board: What Does it Mean to be a Hero?

“Saving people!” Kaminari.

Obvious, but — “Good,” He wrote it down, “Saving who?”

“Innocents!” Ida.

“Hm,” This is where Shouta will have to make his poor students think deeper, “Why just the innocent?”

“Because they don’t deserve to be hurt,” Ida answers.

Shouta nods, “So, when does someone lose their innocence?”

There’s a moment of thinking before Asui tries, “When they’ve hurt someone who didn’t deserve it?”

‘Deserve’ is the interesting word here.

“Who deserves to be hurt? Is abuse something that is earned? Who gets to make that judgment, and on what basis?”

Uraraka is the brave one to weakly ask, “Police?”

“Ah,” Shouta almost facepalms, “I realize I never assigned proper reading for this topic, my apologies. Right after class, I will email you all some studies that have mostly been kept underground. Here are only some statistics pulled from those studies. I’ll write them down now.”

‘70% of villains come from abusive homes and below the poverty line.’

‘40% of policemen self-reported to being domestic abusers - how many unreported?’

‘80% of sexual-assault offenders are not arrested, despite evidence that murder convictions have been sentenced for less on.’

‘73% of federal prisoners are serving time for non-violent offenses and have no history of violence.’

‘60% of the top fifty heroes have committed criminal acts, yet remain unpunished.’

He waits as his students write down these statistics in their notebooks. He only continues when every single face has looked back up at him.

“Earlier on, I spoke about how people’s needs change, based on what they’re given. It is against the law to steal. However, basic necessities like food, shelter, water, diapers, pads and tampons are not free. Everyone needs to work in order to make money, yet our society’s job markets are often closed or extremely restricted to convicted felons, equally for both violent and non-violent offenders.

“The law makes no difference between someone shoplifting a luxury handbag, and shoplifting a sandwich. So, what our current justice system is essentially telling our society is that people should starve, because of pre-defined morality. That people should let themselves descend to slow death, because that is what our society has deemed is ‘right’.

“I am not trying to make you all feel shame for the way our society works. You’re just kids. You are all incredibly gifted, and incredibly privileged, kids. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. To pick yourself up from your bootstraps, you first need to have a sturdy pair of strong leather boots. Many are born without.

“Everyone wants to be a hero to ‘stop villains’. What I want you all to think about is prevention. How can our society lower these numbers? How can we stop a crime before it’s committed, rather than immediately punish someone once that crime is committed? How can we help reintegrating convicted felons into our society, so that they don’t end up in these prisons a second, and a third time?

“And I want you all to also question — who actually benefits from a criminal being punished? Our society, our governments, or our heroes?”

His students look conflicted. Worried, sad, betrayed, afraid and confused.

Shouta looks at the clock and realizes he’s almost out of time.

He puts the marker down, “I want you all to do the reading I’ve emailed you, and write a one-page reflection on how you would like to be a part of villain prevention once you debut as a Pro-Hero. No goals are too big or too small. I encourage you all to use your imagination, use your empathy, and use the information you’ve learned from me, and your classmates. Does that sound alright?”

His students slowly nod.

“Alright. Thank you all for listening. My door is always open if you have questions or just generally want to talk. Class dismissed.”

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neonscandal · 8 days

Text

During another team up exercise, Bakugo and Midoriya are having trouble collaborating.

Midoriya, whining while chasing after his reluctant teammate: Kacchaaan. Aizawa-sensei said if we don't work together on this, we're going to fail this assignment! There's no "i" in "team"! Work with me!

Bakugo, still insisting on taking the lead regardless of consequence: But there is in "murder-suicide", does that work for you!?

Yaoyorozu, chiming in from the control room: Uh, sensei, should we stop them? It appears as though Bakugo is about to get carried away again.

Shouta "Graduation Can't Come Soon Enough" Aizawa, taking a long, dramatic sip of coffee over the team comms: I didn't hear anything.

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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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