#<- My personal headcanon of them where they're both strange and terrible parents in their own unique ways is so delicious to me

[bumblingbabooshka]

I think Sarek and Amanda Grayson both lowkey seeing their children as little experiments in different ways is undeniably bad parenting BUT .... I mean you talk about matching each other's freak .... Like imagine for a second Sarek is like "I am going to show that Humans are just as good as Vulcans by molding this Human child and my half Human son into the perfect Vulcans - This will show that despite what society thinks of as their genetic inferiority, they're just as good as any Vulcan." and Amanda's response to that is to think "Sarek is wrong...Michael's humanity MUST be preserved...so that I can show her all the love and affection I can't show Spock and maybe through their sibling bond all my unspoken and unexpressed love can trickle down to him through her." What are you both DOOOOING!?? You guys are NUTS like PLEASE just TALK to each other and compromise about how you're going to raise your children!! [Love the drama though] So I'm imagining in my head that Sarek is severely pressuring both Spock and Michael to act as perfect Vulcans their entire lives with him or else they're failures not only in his eyes but in all of society's (because he's an ambassador and raising these children is tied irrevocably with his work as such) WHILE Amanda is secretly trying to funnel her humanity and love for Spock through Michael and as such failure to receive, express, or internalize that love is failing not only your mother but also the entire Human race. Damned if you do damned if you don't! Who do you want to disappoint more, kids?

In 'Point of Light' Amanda says that she gave Michael all of the love, joy, and affection which she wasn't "permitted" (we must question the use of the word - what stopped her from directly giving Spock this love? I'm not saying there wasn't pressure for her not to, I'm saying the word 'permitted' absolves her of any personal choice or failing in a way that's interesting to me) to give Spock and though this is on the surface level sweet and probably meant to be interpreted that way, I submit that it must be kind of fucked up to hear that your foster mother was maybe only so kind and caring to you because she felt she wasn't allowed to act that way towards her "real" son. Michael Burnham as a tool for both her parents, however unintentional, is very interesting and I'm not sure it's something canon considers (haven't watched the show, I just like imagining things). The feeling that you have to be grateful to these people for not only being your parents but being YOUR parents. For taking you in and giving you a beautiful life - you have to pay them back, you have to make them especially proud of YOU. Because they didn't HAVE to, did they? Because you're not their "real" child. In the end, it's always Spock - isn't it? The love your mother gives you is Spock's love and if only one child can enter the Vulcan Science Academy then it has to be Spock. You're the appetizer your father serves before the REAL main course and your mother's stuffed doll which represents the thing she REALLY wants to hold and you know they genuinely care about you. That's the worst part. Because you know they care and they didn't mean to hurt you and the voice in the back of your head keeps telling you that any hurt they've dealt you pales in comparison to the debt you owe them and they love you, they love you, they love you, they love you, they love you [repeat as often as need be: remember the debt]

[delusionaid]

HEADCANONS : click the link to get some random headcanons for your muse.

Diluc is very good at using chopsticks. (Business trips to Liyue? I'm gonna give him a personal hc here and say Crepus forced him to learn how to eat with chopsticks when he was younger so he'd be able to do it as an adult. Diluc loathed it then but is grateful now.) Diluc almost drank the lethal dosage of caffeine once. (Boy has a thing for knocking himself out with drinks, apparently.) Diluc can play the guitar. (*Lyre) Diluc is smart but also very stupid. (I mean..) Diluc is a sleepwalker. (*TALKER. He's a sleepTalker. Kaeya can attest to that from the time he was new to the house and they had to share a room for a while. He usually says nonsensical or incoherent things, but it can be quite entertaining. He never remembers doing it the next day.) Diluc has one, very simple word that they cannot figure out how to pronounce. (I got this 3 times. Must be true. Want to guess the word?) Diluc desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one. (Ok this is actually canon on this blog so well done.)

Wriothesley can play the piano. (I kind of like the idea, to be honest. It's hard to imagine what life with his "parents" looked like. I like both the version where it was really terrible living conditions and they were mostly neglected, but I also like the thought that they had to learn certain things and present a certain way in order to be "of value" to those they were "sent to". So some of them being able to play music could be an idea to play with.) Wriothesley needs a nightlight to sleep. (Hm, not sure about light, but I like the idea that he almost sleeps better when there's noise because he's always had that. First with his "siblings", then living in the street, then the Meropide, and even now the room around him probably makes noise all night long. Silence would be deafening.) Wriothesley's least favourite subject in school was Math. (shrug.png) Wriothesley could easily survive The Hunger Games. (I got this twice so it must be true. Grim.. but I somehow agree. There's some analogy to his life there, I think.) Wriothesley is smart but also very stupid. (WHY DO ALL MY MUSES GET THIS.) Wriothesley likes to eat straight coffee beans. (...Listen, we've all done strange things when hungry.) Wriothesley stole a lollipop at the checkout when they were 5 and they still feel guilty about it. (Nah, he earned that lolly.) Wriothesley is an ugly crier. (You know what, I'll take it. Most people are.)

Alhaitham is tumblr famous (Got this twice. For what I wonder?) Alhaitham is very willing to eat inedible things. (<.< Is this a slight against Kaveh's cooking?) Alhaitham is a dog person. (I disagree, he's a cat person. He likes that they're independent and don't want him to play with them 24/7.) Alhaitham sleeps in until noon. (I think he has, on occasion. He's not an early bird but he isn't (my) Diluc either.) It would not take much for Alhaitham to turn evil. (Literally canon every time he brushes some evil plot and rejects it only because it turns out to be flawed.) Alhaitham is great with kids. (...I mean. Depends on the kid.) Alhaitham has a diary that they write in with a glittery gel pen. (Fun fact, I think if he found a glittery gel pen that wrote really smoothly, he'd use it. Like who cares that it glitters if it's personal notes, the writing experience is pleasant. But he's not going out to buy glitter gel pens specifically.) Alhaitham needs a nightlight to sleep. (I wanna say.. used to need. Now he just sleeps in a bedroom with a window that lets in a lot of moonlight on most nights.)

tagged by: @apocryphis thank you! tagging: @voyagaer @liliavanrouge @dhabibi @nagareboshiko

[lanaevyssmoved]

i hope this doesn't come across as an attack, i'm genuinely just curious. on the one hand you say that a fictional character and headcanons for that character or actions/attractions towards that character is never cause for being mean to anyone, but also that people who headcanon astarion to be mentally young and still fuck him are weirdos. i just don't see how it's less 'problematic' to say that you find astarion sexier as an unhealed abuse victim/abuser so you're going to go the ascendant route than it is to say you find astarion sexier when he's mentally underage. both of those things are bad in that they'd be shitty to do to real people, but in the context of fiction i don't understand how one is fine and the other is weird or evil.

for what it's worth i agree with your astarion age opinions! i absolutely think it is weird to be attracted to someone you view as a child! it just feels incongruous with your other takes on fiction.

i think people romancing and sleeping with a character they are viewing as a child/teenager is strange, that's all. i didn't even say 'don't do this!' i just said it's "weird and sus", because i want to help people realise how they are sounding to others, who may instinctively judge them and possibly attack them. at the end of the day, i can't stop people for going against d&d lore for their own preferred headcanon, but what if they're misunderstanding? what if they don't know lore? what if they're just explaining themselves poorly? what if they're just not aware they're making themselves sound this way?

i don't put this on the same level as telling someone they are a terrible person because they say, ascend astarion or keep astarion as a spawn, since we're talking about him, and saying "bit weird you wanna sleep with someone you think is akin to a child". one of these could have dangerous connotations to real life, it could genuinely paint someone has a dangerous person.

i am victim of a romantic relationship where someone picked me because of my vulnerability. to share a bit about myself, i have abusive parents who purposely sheltered me from the world to control me. they did not even allow me to get a job, or to go out and meet people. i was told, from a very young age, that the world will hurt me and they won't understand me (because of disorders i have) and they will keep me safe. they never want me to leave. and thus i have mentally aged 'slower' than i should have. i shan't say more than that, but this person i met, and became aware of this, immediately sought a romantic relationship with me, which led to them using my lack of experience in life and lack of know to also control me, and continue to infantilise me and keep me as 'young' as they could. control my entire life, my money, what i do, where i go, what i dress, everything about me. i know how terrifying it is to be chosen by someone because of 'mental immature', being 'under developed'.

when i think of this, and think of people who choose astarion while viewing him the same way- do you know what i think? "do you realise how much of an abuser you sound like?" you are those people who choose someone due to how easy it would be to abuse them. so yes, i worry these people just aren't aware of how dangerous they sound. i word it like 'weird' and 'sus' because i would never target them with such harsh and powerful language, but i think that alone is enough to make someone think about it, maybe enough to realise they need to change how they talk about astarion, or adjust their pov.

i've had friends come to me in tears because someone attacked them viciously for a choice they made in the game, a choice available to everyone, a choice there because you are allowed to pick it. that they are legit a bad person to their core because they picked something in a damn game. this is no where near the same to me as wanting a sexual relationship with someone you think is mentally underdeveloped. they cannot be compared.

i hope this all makes sense and i didn't miss one of your points, admittedly i don't want to look at this any longer.

[dearest-kibble]

Can I request headcanons for yandere Bakugou, Todoroki and Deku where they have been leaving their darlings voicemails proclaiming their love and whatnot and seeing as they're not reacting badly to it, their darling must be happy. Turns out they haven't heard any of it because they don't know how to access their voicemail

Oh gosh oh gosh I love this concept??? Thank you for requesting! 

Okay so,,, these get a little unhinged real quick because i am in a mood so!

Tw: Dacryphilia, degradation, stalking, yandere relationships, unhealthy relationships,  (Maybe?? just in case,,,) dumbification, lots of cussing (Thanks katsuki.) They’re all pretty abusive,,, Midoriya’s gets a little n/sfw-ish? Like just motions of moans but,, to be safe also panty stealing. I love these boys so much so i’ll make them terrible,,, as a treat.

All of these characters are third years!

So here now, we have a temperamental one.

And no, it’s not Katsuki.

It’s Shoto.

Half cold, half hot.

He’s easy to anger. If you say the wrong thing, well you’re in for it.

But, he likes you.

You’re always smiling at him.

He knows that you smile at others but there has to be something to smiling at him, right?

People tell him he’s handsome, they tell him he looks good. Women ask for his number.

So you smile at him because you like him.

So he’ll dote on you a little.

He has your number. He paid someone for it.

And he’s been leaving you just about the nicest things he could.

He loves talking to you, even if he doesn’t quite feel comfortable talking to you face to face.

And he just loves telling you how sweet you look for him. How cute your voice sounds and how he just loves you.

“I’ll make sure to marry you one day. You’ll have anything you want.”

“You looked so sweet in that outfit today, once we’re married, I’ll get you something like it. Would you like that? I’ll make sure you have the nicest clothing for when you walk down the isle, goodbye.”

“Your voice is stuck in my head, I can’t wait until I can hear your voice all day in our house together. Goodbye, I can’t wait to see you.”

“When we have a child, you’ll be a wonderful parent. I love you, goodbye.”

“You’ll marry me, right? Goodbye darling, say yes.”

And well, Shoto wasn’t being told to stop, but you weren’t talking to him.

At all.

And so, he tries to ask you about it after class, in the dorms when you two are in the common room.

Luckily for Shoto, you’re the only one there.

You send him a quick smile as you see him sitting in the corner, before you return to stretching.

It makes his heart stop - just for a few seconds - before hastily standing up and walking towards you.  

“Why haven’t you said yes?” He’s got that intense sound in his voice, like it’s as important as finding a villain.

“Yes to what?” You’re still stretching as you look up into his eyes.

It’s clear to him that you don’t have a clue. And really, that shouldn’t make him angry. It’s irrational to think that you’ve been deliberately ignoring him. But who doesn’t check their voicemail?

“The messages I’ve left you, why haven’t you responded to any of them, don’t you love me?” Shoto feels as calm as ever.

You’ve stopped stretching. Expression blank as you attempt to process whatever is going through your head.

“Of course I love you!” And your smile is back. Shoto nods, of course you love him, he can give you whatever you nee- “You’re one of my friends!”

Oh.

“Oh.” Ice begins to melt beneath his flesh

“I don’t know what messages you’re talking about though, did you ask Sero for my number? Class notes, right?”

You can’t not know how to check your voicemail. No one is that stupid.

“The messages I left you. You must’ve checked them.”

“I’m uhh..” You laugh a little. Normally it’d make him blush. “I don’t know how to check them. Sorry Todo...”

“You know exactly what I am talking about.” The look you give him is nothing but confused.

“I... don’t, could you explain it to me?”

“You wouldn't need this explanation if you just talked to me.”

“Sorry Todoroki, I didn’t know you wanted to talk.” You’re a good actor, because there's no way you didn’t know he wanted to talk to you, to marry you.

“I’ll show you.” He grabs you hand and yank you off the ground. “Give me your phone.”

“Wha-” You shiver.

“Your phone. Give it to me.” You hand it over without hesitation. “Good.”

It doesn’t take long for him to find the messages he left. 

“How do you know my password?” He ignores your question.

He opens the most recent message he left. Just this morning.

“Good morning. I want you to know, that our marriage won’t be a quirk marriage. I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like in the dress i have picked out, I love you. Goodbye.” 

“Todo-” 

“Shoto. I’m going to be your husband.” 

“I- give me some time to process-”

“You have had plenty of time to process. So you must’ve been ignoring me.”

“I haven’t!” It’s adorable how desperately you try to lie. You’re quite good at it. 

“Be quiet.” His voice is devoid of emotion. “You can’t go around ignoring your future husband like that. Now we’re going to have a nice, long chat about this in my room.

“But Todoro-”

“You will call me Shoto.” He sends a flare of ice up your arm.

“Shoto! You’re name is Shoto and I-” Your free hand scratches desperately at the ice. 

“Desperately trying to get me to remove the ice.” He gives you a cold smile. “Once you really learn your lesson, that won’t happen again. Got it?”

You nod. Tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“You wouldn’t be crying if you didn’t ignore me.” He pets your hair. “Now, I’m more than a friend to you, right love?”

“Of course Shoto! I love you more tha-”

“Then smile like you do.” You look like you’re helpless with those tears in your eyes though. 

You try, you really do but this is where your acting prowess stops. It’s not a cute, sweet thing like normal. No, it’s ugly and contorted.

“Try again.” Practice makes perfect. “That isn’t what I asked for.”

You wipe your tears with your free hand. He should’ve frozen them both. You’d have to learn to rely on Shoto sooner or later. You take a deep breathe and fix your face into that adorable little smile you gave Shoto.

“Was that so hard?” He brings a chilled hand to your face to wipe away a tear that had gotten away from you. “Come, we’ll talk in my room. Once your arm melts, we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson.” 

Katsuki only has your number for study sessions, he swears.

Your friends don’t believe it no matter how loud he yells.

Probably for good reason.

You’re not doing nearly as poor as Kirishima in terms of grades, and you weren’t a bad note taker either. So the fact that Bakugou still invited you to study and the fact that he seemed a little extra harsh on you?

Your friends find it a little strange.

But Bakugou also calls Kirashima “Shitty Hair” so it’s not really out of character for him to tell you how much of a dumbs you are for getting from point A to B in a different way than normal. 

Hell, Bakugou does it the way too.

He tells you it’s because you’re “A shitty extra who’s just trying to be better than me!”

Which, to be fair, checks out with how he treats the rest of the class.

So he’s fine.

Your friends are just a little paranoid that’s all.

And he can understand that. After all, who wouldn’t want to protect you?

He even leaves you little messages. He thinks they speak for themself.

“You got bruised today when you were trying that shitty new move of yours. Be more god-damn carful next time!”

“Hey. Why aren’t you at our study sessions? Shitty Hair isn’t as stupid as you and he actually understands the material. I’m stuck here for another damn hour if you don’t- Oi! Pick up the fucking phone you shit head!”

“Fuck, I went a little far with the last message. I saw your new cut. Did you get it from a shitty piece of paper? You’re a fucked up excuse for a hero if you got beat by a piece of paper. Don’t worry doll, once I’m with you, I’ll kiss it all better.”

He leaves countless messages a day. 

You haven’t even thought about them he bets.

Your brain might as well be a cows, you’re so fucking stupid. 

“Oi! Cow brain! Talk to me.” He doesn’t dare drag you over. You’re still delicate even if you have the mental capacity of a shrew.

“One second Bakugou, I’m going to talk to Mr. Aizawa about mastering my quirk.”

You haven’t even figured out how to master your quirk? So fucking useless. But he waits for about fifteen minutes outside the door. 

“We need to have a study session.”

“Why? I’m doing pretty well, aren’t I?”

“Not with that stupid burn mark you got from sparring with the laser extra!”

“Aoyama?”

“Fuckin Aoyama.” Little blond bitch is trying to hurt you. 

“I’m fine Bakugou, i’m going to be a hero I should get used to a few cuts and burns, with the villain climate,”

“The fucks a villain climate?” You don’t even know that climate is used for weather. You really are a stupid pig. Someone needs to save your bacon, huh?

“The way villains are at the-” Damn your eyes look like a deers’

“I know what a villain climate is!”

“So, you pulled me aside to study, right?”

“At least you remember that.” Any smart person would’ve figured out that was a lie though. “But you’re a fucking idiot for thinking that was the case. You’ve been getting my notes, you know how fuckin worried I am about you getting hurt.”

“You worry about me getting hurt?” Your mind really did move like molasses. 

“Pretty fuckin slow on the uptake there sweetheart.” 

“You’ve been sending me messages?” Oh fuck. You’re even dumber than a cow. 

“Are you completely braindead? I’ve been calling you a dumbass for months,” 

“I don’t know how to open my voicemail, not my fault technology is confusing baku-”

“No one is that fucking dumb!” 

“Bakugou, you’re yelling.”

“No Shit?! I wouldn’t need to be if you actually understood anything that I’m telling you! It’s not that fucking hard to understand you just open your damn phone, and click on those stupid ass red icons on the phone app.” If you weren’t so delicate and in need of keeping safe, he’d punch you.

“Oh uhh- Bakugou? Did you mean to play these?”

“Fuck no I didn't.” Maybe he’s a little obvious. But not so obvious that you’d pick up on it.

“I uhh really think I love you? Maybe it’s cause you're such a fucking dumbs that I can’t stand that you get hurt. It’s painful to see. Shit. I hate that I love you. Just die already.” Katsuki in the phone sounds like he’s gone soft. Can’t have that.

“Bakugou, it isn’t very heroic to tell someone to go d-”

“That’s the thing your shitty mind picks up on?” You’re such a cute little doll. “I just told you that I loved yo-”

“Even more of a reason to report you. Two pro heroes shouldn’t have a relationship, it’s unprofessional.”

“Your stupid ass really thinks you’re gonna be a hero? You can’t even go a round with Aoyama without getting a burn. Nah baby, you’re gonna be at home, well protected and away so that you don’t have a chance to fuck something up.”

“I’m going to be a hero Bakugou.”

“I tell you that I’m gonna keep you at home, away from everything and everyone and you’re concerned with being a hero? Dumb as hell.” 

“Bakugou, you seem to be especially mean to me-”

“Fuck it. You wanna get a shitty Lunch Rush meal?” Oh it’d be so easy to drug you up. You probably don’t even think about people who might drug your food. You're just a stupid little doll.

Midoriya really likes stalking you, okay?

You’re cute, a real old family friend and really sweet too.

You were absolutely ecstatic when his mom held that dinner to celebrate his quirk’s manifestation.

He almost told you the truth about All For One.

Big developments should be shared with the people you love, right?

Course he never really got your number cause he’s a little bit shy, but.

You won’t mind if he finds it in your house, right?

He’s been there countless times before, so it’s not like this is anything big or new or a groundbreaking development. 

It’s just, he’s here at night now, and you’re asleep. And so are your parents. 

But he’s quiet, don’t worry! He’s not gonna wake anyone up. It’s a hero’s duty to make sure that others are okay, and that includes getting the proper amount of sleep!

So he makes his way around your house with a nervous shuffle. 

How can he be calm when you’re sleeping just mere rooms away? It’s very distracting with you on the bed, just splayed out for him to watch and look at while you dream. 

Sometimes you moan. 

He likes to think he caused that.

He’s a little disgusted to think it, but he’s a little pent up. All the time

And you just look so cute on top of that bed-

But he came here for a phone number, and he’s gonna get one. 

Besides, he’s going to be the number one hero, a symbol of peace! He can’t sully All-Might’s legacy with dirty thoughts!

So he finds your phone charging on a chest of drawers in your room. 

After a few seconds of watching you sleep.

And oh you look good in a tank top and shorts, eyes closed and-

He picks up your phone to distract himself.

You were really trusting, weren’t you? You didn’t even have a lock on your phone.  

He’d hug you if you wouldn’t wake up from his cold skin.

He’d do more than hug you-

Nope, not gonna think about that and Midoriya hates himself a little for looking through your drawer to find where you keep your panties. 

There a lot of pairs to choose from, colored, patterned, laced... So many, pretty kinds of panties.

He settles for a pure, white pair. It’s plain. You won’t miss it.

After he pockets the guilt-inducing panties, he once again sets his sight on your phone.

Once again, he opens it, tries to find where you’ve put your contact information, and quickly duplicates it for his own device,

“Goodnight Bunny! Sleep well!” Oh what he wouldn’t give to kiss you goodnight.

After that, he decides to send you a few messages. They’re quick, innocent, sweet. He almost recorded himself cumming in your panties.

That morning, he wakes up bright and early, with even more energy than normal. He send you a good morning message, and moves on to stretch before class. 

He isn’t late but the only notes he can take in classes are those about your sleeping habits.

You snore, you like to sleep on your left side rather than your right, meaning Midoriya is the little spoon, and you like to sleep in tank tops which means Midoriya has to start wearing them.

When lunch rolls around, before Midoriya meets with Iida and Ururaka he sends you a quick update.

He should probably return your panties,

After he washes them, of course. 

He returns that night to your house with a notebook he’s decided to dedicate to you and your shared love story.

He checks your phone again and debates playing the recordings back to you in your sleep, or waiting for you to find his sweet surprise.

You’ve always likes surprises, you’d love one from him!

He looks at your panty drawer again.

It takes most of his willpower not to take another pair.

“Goodnight! Sleep well bunny!”

He makes a swift exit and leaves another message.

He repeats the process for several days and maybe it’s his imagination, but you sleep with a smile on your face now!

He wonders if it’s the returned panties that did it, or his messages.  

Sunday is date night for your parents, and it’s U.A’s day off. It’s like the stars have aligned themselves for Izuku Midoriya and your love.

He’s going to ask if you like his messages and if you’d like him to start texting you.

After five days of sneaking in the night, finally Izuku can knock on your door and see the light shining on your perfect face.

He knocks on the door, dressed in casual clothes. 

You answer in an All-Might hoodie and Izuku imagines it’s his All-Might hoodie.

“Oh! Hey Midoriya! Parents are out now, would you like to come in?”

“Oh uh! Yes please!” Even if he’d imagined this playing out so much, he can’t help the nervous tick of his hands. He’s so so close to you.

The door stays open until Izuku walks through, It’s nice to come in the front, and not a window.

You begin leading him towards the kitchen, hang a left out of the foyer. 

“I just started some chicken nuggets, hopefully I made enough for you,” You spin around suddenly. “I don’t know why, but I don’t think I have your number.”

That means you haven’t listened to any of his messages then? Izuku’s smile drops.

“Oh it’s nothing personal, I just never thought of giving it to you before, agues i should’ve considering how long we’ve known each other. I didn’t mean to make you look so sad Doriya, here its...”

Would he have to show you his messages? Would he have to make you see how much he loved you?

But that... sounded so violent! So villainous. It wouldn’t be right.

“Hey..” You put a hand on his shoulder. It fits perfectly. “You got that Doriya?”

“Yes!” His smile isn’t hard to regain with your hand so warm on him.

“Nuggets are done too! How many you want?”

“Oh, I’m actually, not- that hungry.”

“Any reason?”

“In my-” What did should he  — that’s got to work. “In my most recent work-study, there’s this case where someone is leaving voicemails to their targets,” But that makes him sound more villainous  than he wanted to.

“Oh shit really?” You look very cute with your wide eyes. 

“Uhm, yes?” It’s a terrible lie and anyone could pick it up if they weren’t so good and kind and trusting - and oh no.

It just had to make him sound like a villain.

“I’ve been getting some voicemails recently, and if it’s evidence or anything, do you need to take a look?”

“No,” He can feel the sweat dripping from his face. “It’s ah, fine?”

“Midoriya, if I have evidence and I don’t bring it in, wouldn’t that make me an accomplice?”

“Technically-” But if you knew they were from him why would you think they were an accomplice- you thought he didn’t have your number. 

You hadn’t heard those messages.

“Do you know is it’s evidence?”

“Well I can’t actually open m voicemail but if it’s anything, you can teach me, right?

“Of course!” He offers a hand to take the phone. “You just -” He taps a few things, “There!”

And you two listen to them. Izuku has such a big smile on his face.

“Good morning! I hope you feel great today! I’m going to do the best i can today, and i know you will too! I love you!”

“I’m about to at lunch, i wonder what you’re having. Maybe one day, we can cook together? Love you, have a nice meal!” 

“I’m about to get ready to come see you tonight, if you want to, stay up! I want to kiss you goodnight! Love you Bunny!”

“What is this?”

“I’m a little embarrassed, but it’s like the voicemails said! I love you, morning noon and night!”

“Midoriya, have you — oh god is that where my panties went?” The anger in your voice hurts him. “Get out.”

“Bunny I-”

“Get out of my house Midoriya. Before I call a real hero.”

“I love you!” 

“You don’t love me, you like my panties and an idea you’ve cultivated because we were never really that close.”

“I’ve known you since i was-”

“Yes, you have, but it’s our parents who are friends - not us. If we were friends, by now I’d call you Izuku.” And like that the notebook of his brain that’s pages were being torn out and stomped on were being sewn back in by a practiced hand.

“You can call me Izuku, if you want.”

“Midoriya, i’m telling you, get out and I won’t report you. You could get your license revoked. You don’t want that.”

“But-”

“Leave.” The way you stood your ground was very admirable. 

He makes a mental note, you are trusting, sweet, kind and headstrong. 

He can work with those. 

He’s suddenly glad he only returned one pair of panties.

He’ll get to visit you again real soon.

-- 

HOLY SHIT DID THAT TAKE FOREVER TO GET Through. I rewrote Shoto’s part five time but im pretty happy with it. Overall I think Bakuboi’s is the best.,., and Izuku,,, my poor deku,,, yours is.... interesting. Anyway thank you for the patience of the requester! And for also requesting these three lovely lads. Oh boy,,, time for some smut coming up... 

[theradioghost]

Okay so MAYBE I've been reading too much Xmen but I'm really into the idea of characters meeting their time displaced future kids and I'd die to see a Penumbra version? Bonus points if they're from ~the darkest timeline~ where their parents are dead 🖤🖤 (I love u and your headcanons so much ur a gift to us all)

ohhhh, Anon, I have spent the last two weeks binging arsPARADOXICA, and trust me when I say right now my head is full of future selves and dark timelines and people making terrible, terrible decisions with time travel. consequently this may have gotten away from me and I may have written this instead of taking notes in my last class, but please accept this totally unbeta’d 2.5k.

The person following Nureyev down the alleyway was good; very good. No one else would have heardher footsteps, mirroring his exactly, without echo. She could have crept up onanyone else.

But not on him, which seemed almost a shame as he spun, caughther, had her pinned to the ground in a heartbeat. He’d never been one forprolonging a fight, and he’d never had the brute strength for the kind ofhand-to-hand that Juno went in for; but his spouse had insisted that Nureyevbroaden his technique to include a number of useful throws and holds after afew too many close shaves and a few too many dead bodies. And besides, he had afew questions.

“Now,” he said politely, pressing the swearing girl’s faceinto the pavement. She really was a girl, barely out of her teens at theoutside, and he was glad he hadn’t gone for the knife. “We meet at last.”

“Get off!”

“After all,” he continued, unperturbed, “aren’t you the onewho’s been trying to interfere with my work for the past week and a half?Trying very admirably, I’ll admit. This was uncharacteristically clumsy of you.So, who hired you?”

“I’m not working for anyone.” Her voice was impressivelypetulant, considering it was muffled by most of his weight and the grittyconcrete beneath her.

“I don’t appreciate lying,” Nureyev said. “You’re certainlyvery talented for your age, but not talented enough, I think, to have had thekind of information on me which you clearly do. Those pitfalls were very personalized. You know how I work,which means you’re with someone I’ve workedwith before. Or worked against. It makes no difference. If you were foolishenough to try mugging me in an alleyway, they can’t have told you enough aboutme.”

“You’re making a mistake,” she said.

“Wrong again. I’m making a profit off yours,” Nureyev said,placing his knee in the center of her back and hearing the air leave her withan oof. He loosened his hold justenough to reach down and begin rifling through her pockets, the work of onlyseconds; she wasn’t carrying much, although he noticed some kind of sleek,complex personal device which wrapped all the way around her arm. It was alittle petty, perhaps, but the prospect of rethinking his technique enough toevade this mysterious new adversary was irritating, even as it excited him.Juno would be furious.

As soon as he touched the device, the girl started tostruggle far more desperately. “Do nottake that,” she said. “That is a bad, bad idea – ”

He tightened his grip, and something on thedevice beeped. There was a second ofrapidly gaining white noise, a sensation of heat, a bright flash –

Nureyev sprawled backwards on the concrete of the alley, thegirl next to him. There was someone coming around the corner, he realizedblurrily, disoriented; he could hear the footsteps.

He could have half sworn that the girl ran with him behind the storage container,but at any rate, they ended up pressed against the metal, Nureyev twisting herarms up behind her back with one hand and covering her mouth with the other,but not really paying attention because he was staring through a chink in themetal at himself, walking down thealleyway.

It was unmistakable, a living mirror. Nureyev knew ahologram when he saw one, and this wasn’t it. And when the girl’s doppelgangerappeared around the corner, following behind him, and his own double turned andpinned her to the ground, a surreal, impossible thought occurred to him.

The other Nureyev reached for the girl’s wrist; she tried topull away, and both of them vanished.

There was a long silence, broken only by the muffled soundsof the city at the end of the alleyway and the dripping of water from a nearbypipe. Then Nureyev lifted his hand off the girl’s mouth and said, “You have tenseconds to explain what just happened.”

“You’re not stupid, it’s obviously a time machine,” the girlsaid hurriedly. “I’m from the future and I’m trying to help you.”

Nureyev frowned. “So you’re not the person who’s been sabotaging me?”

A pause. “Uh, no. I am,” she said. “That’s how I’m helpingyou.”

“Excellent logic,”he said. “What just happened?”

“There’s an emergency switch on the device,” she said. “Movesyou in time one minute. You activated it.”

He considered it. And to his surprise, he believed it. Afterall, he’d seen stranger. Or things as strange,at least.

“You could let me go now,” the girl suggested hopefully.

“Alright,” Nureyev said, not letting go. “Let’s presume thatyou are, in fact, from the future. I think what you need to tell me now is whyI should believe that you’re sabotaging me for my own good.”

A pause, and then she said, “I know your name is PeterNureyev.”

Nureyev considered this for a second. Then he twisted one ofher arms ever so slightly further. “Certainly a dramatic choice,” he said. “Butjust as much of a threat as an assurance. Who are you, then, that you wouldknow my name? What’s yours?”

“Mona,” the girl yelped. “Harmonia, Harmonia Steel, go easy!”

Every one of Nureyev’s trains of thought stopped and rerouted to the same destination. “Steel,” he said. “What do you mean, Steel?”

“It means that you and Juno weren’t stupid enough to give meyour last name, Dad,” the girl snapped. “Now would you let me go?”

All of the strength he was not using to hold her down was suddenly going to making sure his hands did not start to shake. “Prove it,” he said.“Give me one piece of evidence that actuallyproves – ”

“He didn’t call you Peter until your wedding vows and whenyou asked he said he was scared of being the first person to say it to you intwenty years but it seemed stupid to leave it out,” Mona said, all in onebreath. “You two bicker constantly about whether sawdust coffee is even worthdrinking, he has a birthmark on his lower left back and you like to poke himthere to make him jump, you’re allergic to shellfish but he still doesn’t know because you think itmakes you look silly – ”

His hands seemed to let go, his legs to move him up and awayfrom her a step or two of their own accord. Nureyev stared at her, observingwith new eyes, awed eyes. “You’re…”

“I’m your daughter,” Mona said, rolling upright with awince. “And wow, you are heavier thanyou look.”

Nureyev looked at her – a young woman, sharp-eyed,tentatively smiling at him after her attempt at joking. A young woman smilingat her father, a young woman that hehad raised – that he would raise, andwho had, improbably, arrived in his now. Itall made sense, of course – he wouldn’t have admitted it for a heartbeat, butthe uncanny accuracy with which his previously unknown adversary had beenanticipating his every move had frustrated and spooked him. But that wasperfectly reasonable if she’d learned them straight from him. If he’d raisedher to the job.

He felt sick.

“You’re a thief,” he said flatly. “I don’t know what I’ll belike in the future, but let me tell you, in the present I do not approve.”

“Oh, hell, no,” Mona said. “No, you and Juno, both of youtaught me a few things, but believe me, there were always two big rules in ourhome, no growing up to be a thief or a detective. Both of you are gonna be really emphatic about that.”

“Then what do youdo?”

“I’m working on it,” she said. “I was thinking anthropology?Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that, it was a joke. Anyway, I’m not here togive you spoilers for the next twenty years.”

Nureyev caught the thought that he had at least twenty goodyears with Juno coming up, and filed it away to spend some time with when there was not business toattend to. “Alright then, Mona. Tell me, why did you travel twenty years intothe past to mug your father in an alleyway?”

“Someone hired you to steal a data chip from the Duchess ofNew Ithaca,” she said. “I’ve been trying to stop you without having to tell you all of this, and maybe screw upour entire timeline.”

“Unfortunately I think it’s too late for that on a number ofcounts, dear,” Nureyev said, reaching into his pocket. On its chain, the datachip caught the dim light of the alleyway, and its crystal circuits sparkled. “You’vetold me everything, and I’ve already stolen the chip.”

“I know,” she said miserably. “This was my last resort – I thoughtmaybe if I could steal it back off you I could return it quick enough.”

Nureyev stared at her. “And you decided to do that bysneaking up behind me in an alleyway,” he said, half in disbelief.

“…I’m Juno’s daughter too?”

Caught off guard, he laughed, and she did too, for half amoment. “Wow,” she said, “this is… so weird.You just look so young.”

“I take it I’ve gone gray in the future, then,” Nureyevsighed. “Hm? No? Oh, no, I haven’t gone bald, have I?”

The smile had faded from Mona’s face, and she stared at him,as though she didn’t know how to find the words. “In the future,” she saidslowly, “where I came from – when Icame from, you’re – you’re dead.”

He stopped laughing, and looked back at her, the anguish inher eyes.

“That’s why I’m trying to stop you,” she said. “It’s – we don’treally understand yet, you know, how this thing works, what effects it willhave – it’s half cannibalized Martian teleporter and half Dark Matters tech andwe’re half sure that if you create a paradox with it it’ll tear apart realityitself – but I had to, because yousteal that chip, and twenty-four hours later they realize it’s missing, andunless that doesn’t happen, unless it’s notgone by that time, then there’s nothing I can do, nothing that will stopthe chain of events that ends in twenty years with the Duchess killing you, andnow it’s too late.”

Twenty good years.

Nureyev had been roped into watching a few of Rita’s showson occasion, and time travel was a surprisingly frequent plot point. Hesincerely doubted the programs were what you might call scientifically accurate, but he’d paid enough attention to be awareof the theoretical problems of changing your own past. And he’d paid attentionwhen Mona said tear apart reality itself.

“There’s no other course?” he asked, very quietly.

“I had one shot,” she said. She wasn’t crying despite herchoked voice, which didn’t surprise him; he had no doubt that he and Juno wouldbe more than anxious to do their best as parents, but both of them were awfully good at bottling things up. “Itried everything I could think of, and I can’t just go back and do it over. IfI meet myself, that could be the end of everything.Literally everything, the entire universe. And knowing it’ll happen isn’t – isn’tgoing to help you.”

That settled that, then. This had been the tightest, mostfinely planned heist of his career, and the obstacles Mona had given him hadcut it yet closer. There were no further gaps, no place left to jam themachinery, much less without paradoxically contacting himself.

“Mona,” he said, as gently as he could manage. He didn’tknow this girl, didn’t love her yet, but the knowledge that he would, the wayshe was looking at him, the fact of a kid of not more than eighteen or nineteenwith the life or death of their father in their hands, weighed against uncountable lives  –

The world, or your life. Everyone else, or the one whomattered. He knew the choice he’d make.

“Mona, I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry that fate has led ushere. And I want you to know that I don’t blame you.” He put one hand overhers. “So I want you to go back. Go home.”

“You – ”

“I’ve always known the risks, my darling,” he said, managinga sad smile. He even meant it, in that moment, he really, truly did. “This isnot a job that tends to lead to a long life, after all – but you’ve just given me that, Mona. Twenty years is –is more than I ever could have expected. Twenty years with you and Juno is morethan I could have ever dreamed of. I nevercould have predicted such a piece of happiness coming into my life as Juno –I never could have predicted you,Mona. And knowing will make every second of it that much more precious. So go back and take care of him for me.”

Mona stared at him in disbelief for a second, and then hereyes hardened. “Dad,” she said, “she killed Juno, too.”

Nureyev’s world stopped.

“What?”

“I can’t stop that either,” she said. “This was my onlychance. All or nothing. I took a gamble and I lost.”

Juno was dead.

No, he thought, forcing his mind to organize, forcinghimself to think – no, Juno was fine, safe on Mars, safe for another twentyyears. But then, yes, dead.

Peter Nureyev reconsidered his decision.

The near-certain risk of ending reality itself. Or living twentycontented years knowing he’d done nothing to save the life of Juno Steel.

Absolutely everything ending. Or a universe that kepthappily, blindly turning, but without Juno Steel in it. Either way, no Juno.And then the slimmest chance of saving him.

He weighed the options. It wasn’t a hard choice. Not evenclose.

“Well, then, Mona,” he said, brushing alley grime off hiscoat. “You’ve been acting here for about two weeks, yes? Back three weeks, thistime, I think that should be enough – ”

“I told you,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything elseI can do. You’re unstoppable on thisjob. You bragged about it my whole life. I’ve had fifteen years to figure itout and I still couldn’t do it.”

“You very nearly did,” Nureyev said. “But you’re you, Mona, and not quite me, for which I’mvery thankful. And you’d need a thief exactly as experienced as I am to come upwith a way to stop me from stealing that chip.”

“Which I’m not,” Mona said. “I know.”

“No,” he replied brightly. “But I am. And really, isn’t beating yourself at your own best con infinitely more worthbragging about?”