softangstywriter

[softangstywriter]

HI

[softangstywriter]

Thunder • bnha one-shot

There was someone in my class, when I was trying to be a hero, when I was a little naive boy trying to deal with my newly found quirk.

They were happy, the class clown, even a little shameless, but nothing to worry about.

Everyone liked them. Them were good with jokes, gentle, funny, the energy around them was light and silly.

But they were weird.

Time and time again, I'd look over my shoulder and their glance would lock with my eyes. The Savage, yellow meanacing eyes staring directly into my soul, making me shiver every time.

At first, I thought my mind was playing games with me, making me see things, so I didn't care. I let myself vulnerable. But it kept happening again and again, they wouldn't stop staring me.

Years passed. We, class 3-A, were being attacked, it was panic all over. I was almost falling into a abyss, suspended by my almost ripped hood, begging for help. Too hurt to move by my own, and I even thought of letting myself go so I could use black whip and save myself, but my mind got blurry just thinking of that.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm, just when my hood ripped completely, suspending me in midair. Their face was obscured by their long hair, they didn't say anything, didn't move a single muscle.

I tried screaming their name, they didn't hear it. They didn't move. The only move they did was squeezing his hand tighter in my arm, nails sinking deeper in my skin, bruising my already broken arm.

The lighting light their face, revealing their cruel eyes and smirk, the most ominous look I've ever seen, electricity struck my spine.

It wasn't raining.

The thunder came from inside their soul, frying my body and making me scream.

They betrayed everyone. They left me to die because because they knew my secret.

"You shouldn't have trusted me, Midoriya". Kaminari said as he let me go.

And he's right. I shouldn't have trusted him. I shouldn't have trusted anyone. I shouldn't have even trusted myself.

[softangstywriter]

hey if ur lgbt rb this with ur orientation and ur fave soda

[softangstywriter]

[some personal shit here real quick]

Sometimes I end up writing about something that I haven't experienced at all, and I start to feel very worried about offending someone, even if I wrote it down really respectfully. Like, I just wrote Aizawa as a trans man, but damn I am a afab demigirl. Wonder if anyone got pissed reading that hm *chuckles*

[softangstywriter]

• "Those bright eyes of his... They scare me"

I remember him so well. Too well. More than I want to, honestly. If I close my eyes, I can see him with such utterly small details that it gives me shivers, shivers out of sheer guilt. He was the softest thing ever, most precious, innocent cinnamon roll. He had the sweetest voice, calmest attitude, respectful posture, everything you see in these cliché perfect precious boys in generic movies. Usually the one who gets called a nerd and a "kick me" note on the back of a old hoodie.

And he was the weakest person I've ever met on my life. He had the loudest cry, the thinner arms, clumsiest manner, perfect to punch. He was a slow runner, a coward at his best. He never replied when we offended and laughed at him. He cried like a stupid baby when some of us burned or ripped his notebooks full of hero entries he studied so hard to finish. He never hit back when ''some of us'' almost made him deaf by making explosions way too close to his soft baby ears and making he throb in pain. He didn't care about the bullying, since a long time ago, and that drove me nuts. Who that jerk tought he was to act so goddamn cool?

It started pretty early, being honest. At the start it was just a ridiculous joke, as we were little kids who might just have started to discover who they are. Or who they aren't. We blasted. We flew. We had tails. We had crazy body parts, cool abilities, weird stuff going on. He had nothing. He just had his puffy cheeks, his weirdly symmetrical freckles, his scaredy cat green eyes and that messy dark olive hair.

So bad I'll never see these things again.

Time flew, of course, and when we realized, it was a sick, dizzy endless spiral of offenses, threats, awful bruises, adult negligence and even worse. We were both pathetically weak, we still are, but he made me feel powerful. He made me feel like I had control over his life. He was submissive because of all the pressure and harm I had put on his shoulders and didn't even realize. And yet, he still called me a friend. We had a really distorced vision of what friendship was, and we couldn't do nothing about it.

At least I couldn't. Not in time.

Despite all my obsession with heroes and being so fucking heroic, I was too blind to save him. I was such a coward... Such a villain.

Of course, there is always the high point. The apogee. In my case, the lowest blow I could ever think of blowing. And the worst part, I tought I was absolutely right, until it was too late to come back.

This day, he said he wanted to apply to U.A. we made such fun of him this day. We blew our limits shamelessly. It was so ridiculous! He didn't have a quirk, how would he go to U.A? What a joke! He was so naive. I took another of his notebooks, seeing the unbelief show in his eyes the millionth time. He tried to get it back, but I was at least ten inches taller than him, it was easy to mock that little poor soul. My hands burned the booklet and carelessly threw it from the window to the hard floor behind our hell-ish school. He stood there, hanging to look at the window, almost crying. Like the jerk he was. "Oh, come on!" I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, alongside with my 'friends' (whose I am now so disgusted of now that I don't even remember their names). "If you want to be a hero so hard, just jump off a fucking roof and see if you have a quirk in your next life!"

That was the low blow.

The look he gave me after that didn't disturb me at the time, I was too arrogant to care, but now it haunts my deepest nightmares. A look of shock, anger, lute. A look of despair, unfairness, reluctance, such a mixture of bad feelings, accumulated over so many years of oppression exploding inside him, staring directly at my soul in a way I've never seen him even trying to do, a wildness that haunted my eyes for all my years, dragging my counciousness down to an unknown path with him, forever. It's something hard to forget. Hard to overcome.

He had an accident involving a villain that day. Almost died. If it wasn't for All Might showing up at the last second, the slugde villain would've suffocated him. Ah, that was the best moment of that poor emerald's miserable life. He admired All Might so much, so much, he couldn't even believe he was being saved my his idol. By what they told me, he asked for him to sign his notebook, the same I had blown away from the window barely half an hour before. He even asked to All Might if he could be a hero even if he didn't had a quirk. He was shining.

But then, he got crushed. Appearently, All Might tought the same way as me... Or he was just being protective, knowing the struggles and dangers of being a hero, trying to keep his naive and sweet innocence safe. It didn't work. He was already suffering, and this triggered his already weak head beyond any limit. Amy humanity he had at this point was dead.

That same evening, Izuku Midoriya jumped off a roof, like I said him to. He purposely chose a building that no one looked at, just so he wouldn't get the attention for himself. It was painfully calculated, cruelly well-thought. A successful failure.

That same evening, the same criminal who attacked him almost took my life away the same way. If it wasn't All Might and some other heroes... I'd probably be in hell. In hell, like the monster I am. This day changed me forever, even when I still didn't know about Deku's fate yet. It made me rethink how I see my life. It made me appreciate it. Made me realize for once that the power I thought I had was non-existent, made me see how weak I really was. As my mom would say, I am a rat. A bastard.

Then they found his body, and my world was twisting once again. Not that I liked him. Not in the way people think I do. I just never realized how my jokes made his life a living hell. The look his mother assumed to no one specifically once she knew... It was tortuous to look at. Her painful sobs and screams, the shaking agony that exploded towards her body, the muffled, utterly sad voice as she desperately repeated the word "Izuku" a million times in a row, begging for the only thing that she loved to come back uselessly still gives me so many bad thoughts when I think about it. How could I be so cruel? How could I have ruined such a innocent woman's life like that? My own mother looking at me with a cold blooded gaze wasn't very relaxing either. She knew it was me, but she didn't even say anything about it. Just her poisonous red eyes staring at the dirtiest secrets of my soul were enough to torture me for years. She knew how to make me feel the worst kind of pain, she still knows. She plays a lot with it.

Once the controversy was over, I finally got to U.A. I owed this to both myself and Izuku. For once, I stopped offending him in my mind. Too late for apologies. I still visit his grave every year though.

I made new friends at that place. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I've met people like Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, Ashido, Jirou and many more. Even the people I'm not so close to, I still try and have a nice conversation sometimes (although I'm not the most delicate person on earth), like Iida, Uraraka, Tokoyami and Aoyama; hell, I even made somewhat of a friendship with the complicated emo™ Todoroki.

But, I still feel his eyes above me every single moment. His once green, livid eyes, now dead, full of white emptiness, staring at my deepest self with wild rage. He's attached to me like a shadow, unquiet and unsettling. He's my shadow, but he don't have my spiky blonde hair, nor my sharp features. No, his uncanny softness was still still there, haunting me unhumanly, not like the boy, the victim I once knew, but a ghost determimed to chase after me sleeplessly, gazing me, keeping all my darkest secrets until I join him wherever he might be, waiting for me, planning his sweet revenge, maybe.

Those bright eyes of him...

They scare me. A lot.

[softangstywriter]

• Blacked Out - Chapter One: Shit just got wrong •

Fandom: Boku no hero academia

Chapter one out of ??

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, gore, bad language (as if you couldn't guess already...)

• • • • • • • • •

"Aizawa-sensei!" Ochaco Uraraka's voice shouted as she opened his little office's door. She was shaking in despair, pale and puffy after running desperately to get there. "Do you know if Deku left the house today?! Please?". The older man stared at her for a second, firstly annoyed, then concerned. The atmosphere on the dorms was already a little odd the last weeks, but he never saw her on this situation. "Midoriya? No, he didn't. If he did, I would have seen on the cameras. Why? Something happened?" His voice was calm and deep as always, due to the sleepiness of working all night. The girl got even paler, the usual blush on her cheeks gone, her eyes widened. "Oh, fuck..." The whispered cry made Aizawa alerted. "What happened?" He grabbed his student's shoulders, feeling that she could fall on her own knees if he loosened his hands.

"I can't find Deku anywhere and his bedroom is a mess! I thought he just activated his quirk while sleeping again, so I wanted to know if maybe he left to mind his own business or something... I thought... Maybe some all might thing...? They're always together...". Those words made the teacher run away to the bedroom at the same second, to find it just as the girl said. But there was no chance that mess was just an accidental quirk thing. His eyes spotted scratches on the floor, like someone trying to hold something... To save themselves. The blankets has cuts. The merch that the boy lovely collected throughout all his life was stepped on carelessly, the posters ripped, figurines broken. That was no accident.

Aizawa rushed to call the police. There was no time to lose. Izuku Midoriya was kidnapped, that was sure. Was he another victim? No, no way. He wasn't quirkless. There was no logic.

Despair quickly spreaded through student's when the red and blue lights came closer and officers came into the house. "What the holy hell is going on?!" Mina whispered to her friend Sero. "Did they found my Twitter account or what??". But everything was explained, even if no one really understood. How did someone abducted Midoriya? How did anyone know the yuuei dorms address? What was the logic?

They denied any form of involvement of the 'anti quirkless' on this case, mostly because of two things: they believed the victim wasn't a quirkless (when the officer said it, Katsuki looked silently at All Might at the corner, ruby eyes desperately asking, cold blue ones saying 'no'; they were both shaking), and the abduction was done in a different way. Normally the anti quirkless would crack a window on the silentest way possible, sneak to the victim and make them faint with chloroform, as residues of this substance had been found on victims bodies every time. But this criminal was everything, but stealthy. Broke the window, probably tried to grab Izuku with bare arms, what probably caused a fight, where there was no care on leaving evidences, seemed by the broken merch and the scratches all over the floor as a reminder of Izuku's loss.

Class 1-a was shocked. Pale faces stared each other, scared of the outcome of this. If it really was the anti quirkless, they didn't want to lose a friend. If it wasn't, then they also had a problem; would they ever be safe again? There was so much to be said, but no mouths were opened. They just acted.

Doors were locked. Windows were closed. Lights were turned off. The tv had it's volume kinda low. While the adults investigated things, teenagers embraced each other, wanting to help but not being able to. The only thing they could do was wait. And the wait seemed eternal. Class a was agitaded, inconsolable.

In a dark place, far away from there, Izuku opened his eyes to meet a white strong light, bright enough to make him tear up a bit. He couldn't see properly, but he felt eyes staring him in the dark pich blackness around him. He had a bruise on his head where he took a hit, a sore nose, and overall feeling like he was ran over by a truck. Not that he never felt that before, but it was weirder this time. He still wore his pajamas. Confusion was taking over his head.

"Hello...? Who's there? What's going on?"

[softangstywriter]

• Blacked Out - prologue •

Actually that's just a test hagdsrdd

Fandom: Boku no hero academia

Warnings: kidnapping, death, gore

• • • • • • • • • • •

Quirkless people were always humiliated since quirks began to be the majority, a long time ago. They are bullied, bruised, heartbroken and hurt, since the moment a quirk doesn't show on their bodies. Everyone knows. Some get over it, some don't. But they're often ignored by media and quirked people, of course. Why would they get the spotlight, since there's nothing interesting about them? Have you ever seen any quirkless successful hero? No you haven't. Unless there is a crime involved, quirklesses never get quite the credit.

Unless there is a crime involved.

When a ten year old girl disappeared, authorities didn't care that much. "People in this world disappear all the time, she probably just ran away from home in a rebelious attack or something"; they said to the desperate mother, a also quirkless woman. "Have you ever tried a child theraphist?"

But, two weeks passed, and the police received a call from a horrified citizen who found a dead body, wearing the same clothes as the missing girl, but bruised and broken in a way it was almost impossible to recognize her.

When a quirkless sixteen years old boy vanished just some days after the first case, they also didn't care. "Another rebelious teen" they said. "Is not having a damn quirk that hard? What a moron"

Two weeks after, his body was found, bruised and disfigured again. But that time, there were notes, on a weird scribbled handwriting, saying offensive things about quirklesses.

The next week, an adult quirkless man disappeared, they were still skeptical. "A grown ass man with these childishy things? Damn" they said for the man's husband, who, in despair, was trying to read his loved one's mind through his own quirk, with no success. Two weeks later, the same pattern repeats, with the same bruises and the notes.

When an quirkless old lady vanished just days after, they started to get annoyed. "Okay now shit is getting weird. An old lady wouldn't get rebelious, there's something going on" they finally said, to the lady's family. Two weeks later, same pattern; bruised, diformed body, with the offensive notes. One of them said "what a irresponsibility, letting a mistake like this live for so long. You should thank me for erasing that awful sketch out of your notebook"

The investigation exploded as the cases kept going, but with no success. At this point, almost fifty quirkless people had died. A month later, almost ninety. Numbers were dangerously increasing. The criminal was too fast, even if he was predictable. There was a pattern, but not a single evidence of the criminal's identity.

Of course, this whole case headed a lot of controversy and discussions, rather about the criminal, rather about quirklesses in general. "They asked for it! Nobody told them to be useless. There's the price" some ignorants would say. "If they were a little bit luckier that wouldn't have happened. So bad destiny was cruel to them" another bragged. The quirklesses who still remained untouched were scared as rats, stuck inside home, locking every door and window with seven keys in pure fear. As if the bias wasn't enough, now they're afraid to die every time they breathe. Some quirked people would make fun of them, other actually helped protecting houses with quirklesses using their quirks, like people with barrier quirks, or elemental quirks, even animal like quirks would help. There are good souls on this world, of course.

But that didn't help either. Quirklesses kept vanishing, even locked home. The criminal would invade their houses. If their houses were protected by quirked people, it would kill them in seconds, and on their chests would be a more saying "Traitors shall pay". Every single time. Now, the controversy was rushing, spreading like wildfire, and people would start hating even more on quirklesses, because "now these fuckers are making us die too".

On the yuuei dorms, people discussed a lot too. Opinions were always kind of the same. "They didn't deserved it, it's not their fault if they're useless and can't defend themselves"; "if at least they were prepared to fight or whatever... Self-defense matters"; "they are people too, what did they do?"; "I've met a quirkless boy when I was little, he wasn't a monster or anything, the persom doing all this shit is a fucking idiot" (that one specifically came from Katsuki, who looked at Izuku for a second while talking, just to taunt him); "that's very unfair to them, they can't even do nothing"; "they're just weak, the criminal is exaggerating. And being very quirklessphobic".

Izuku bit his tongue everytime this talk started and chose not to say anything. As a quirkless person, he dealt with these kind of phrases coming from strangers a lot, but hearing these things from his friends, even if not directed specifically for him, hurt a lot. Holding himself was easier than discussing and possibly ruining a friendship. Internally, he was worried. Every time a new like this popped on TV, he thought "it could have been me". But he comforted himself thinking "no one knows I'm quirkless, just kacchan and all might".

Appearantly, he was wrong.

Ochaco had been searching for Izuku all the morning. He had borrowed her some manga volumes the prior week and she just wanted to give them back to him, but Izuku was nowhere on the house, witch was strange, since it was Saturday and there was no reason for him to go out. "Hey, Aoyama?" The brunnette touched the blonde's shoulder while he ate a toast on the kitchen, obviously bored. He lived in the room right next to Izuku's, so he should know. "Oui, Uraraka? Something wrong?" He asked, curious. Uraraka normally never reached out for him. "Have you seen Deku? I'm searching for him" she smiled softly. "Oh, he must be on his room. I saw him going there after breakfast" Aoyama thought. He was sure he saw Izuku on his room. "Thanks, I'll go there" she ran to the corredor and stopped at her friend's door, gently knocking it. "Hello? It's Ochaco. I'm owing you some mangas, don't you want them back?" She giggled.

No response.

She stood there for a minute. Knocked again. Nothing. Knocked harder. Nothing. Knocked even harder, noticing the door was unlocked and slowly opening it, and paralyzing when looked inside.

The bedroom was a mess.

The bed was undone, his all might merch was carelessly thrown on the floor, his window was broken. The atmosphere was cold, silent. There was something clearly wrong

"Deku-Kun...?"

[softangstywriter]

Ajshdhdhs this actually gave me an idea for a one shot

a hero’s guilt meme pt. 1

“You’re no hero. You’re just some KID that THINKS he knows the difference between right and wrong.”

“What about the ones you DIDN’T save?”

“How do you sleep at night? Knowing you could have done MORE?”

“Your GUILT is gonna eat you alive one day.”

“Everyone HATES you. Why do you do it?”

“What’s the point of saving the lives of people that want you DEAD?”

“Look how EASILY they turned their backs on you.”

“You’ve got the WEIGHT of the WORLD over your shoulders. How much longer can you keep it up?”

“You can’t save them all.”

“You let them down. You let them ALL down.”

“They were counting on you…”

“They’re DEAD, because of you!”

“You could have SAVED them!”

“This city is YOUR responsibility. Look at what YOU let happen!”

“All you do is HURT people. Do us a favor and just LEAVE.”

“How’s it feel? Playing HERO?”

[softangstywriter]

Red gown

Fandom: BNHA (Boku No Hero Academy)

Warnings: gore, angst

• • •「◆」• • •

I felt like floating. For moments straight, there was no gravity pulling me down. I was just there, floating at a black empty void. I was dreaming again. And, as I slowly looked to my scarred, soft hands, shining in the dark, I knew it would be something interesting.

Suddenly, it changed. I was standing, feeling the weight at my feet again, at what a really formal place. A salon, clearly an fancy event. Fancy walls, a fancy chandelier, fancy tables. As I looked around, barely moving anything but my eyes, it was strange to see how cold the room felt, and looked. I saw my reflex, my green hair, green eyes and messy freckles on a broken mirror. It had such an disturbing atmosphere, almost like someone to had died there. Then I moved a bit and noticed... there were puddles of blood in the ground, and bodies laying around. They were far away to see properly. Too far to recognize. I was feeling my body heavy like a truck, but I slowly got closer. Curiosity was killing me.

I quickly regretted this choice, tough.

I got closer to the body I saw first. Now, I could see a beautiful bride gown, once white and peaceful, now stained with cold red blood. One hand was carelessly touching her stomach, where the biggest stain was. The other hand leaned towards another direction, a gold ring shining on their finger, like they wanted to reach something. Someone. The veil covered their face, but I could see the thick black hair around her face, curls falling over. A shiver ran towards me. A cold wind blew through a broken window, blowing the veil away, revealing Momo's pale face, makeup ruined, a painfully dull expression. She looked older than in real life tough... maybe twenty five years old or something. She was getting married. But with who?

Then my sight followed her leaning hand, and I saw that half and half hair I knew so well; Shouto was thrown on the cold floor, laying in his own blood, wearing a shredded suit, a hand also leaning towards his fiancé, with the same gold ring, the same dead hope. A bad feeling paralyzed me. Momo and Shouto married... that meant they probably invited their friends to the wedding too. They would've invited us. My body involuntarily turned to see the other bodies. It was quick to recognize them this time. I saw Kacchan, obviously kicked and stabbed to death, looking frail as he never could've ever been. Kirishima, beaten up and murdered, skin cruelly broken in pieces like old porcelain. Iida, dyed in red, his engines brutally taken away from him. Uraraka, her brown hair cut and her belly red. Tsuyu, just a little thing thrown away on the hard floor. Ashido, burned and stabbed. Kaminari, laying onto a pillar, holding his own arm, a wound uncontrollably bleeding. There was also a small shine at his finger, silver this time. Jirou, I could notice, had her plugs cut away. There was the same silver shine on her finger too. She wasn't even moving. Aoyama, few meters away of her, his belt broken, stomach stabbed. All of my classmates, one by one, thrown on the floor, dead. And then I unconsciously moved around a bit more, against my own will, just to see my older self, in a ripped suit, hurt, face to face with an laughing Shigaraki. "Finally, I'm going to get rid of you". He said, touching the older Izuku's face while he couldn't move. I wasn't seeing my older self's face, but I could feel my hope draining as I saw myself turning to ashes. I felt like turning into ashes too... everything was blurry, shaking uncontrollably, a white noise blowing in my ears, a panic growing so toxic I couldn't breathe, a despair blooming in my heart, an urgency to move, despite not being able to.

I woke up at the warm carpet in my room.