#david x all might

[lockeddocs]

I need to blow them up

[caokkokattz]

MY MAIN MHA SHIPS PART 2 ( and extras)

:333!

[thursdaymoonrise11]

Seb and Bee as Mulder and Scully👉👈

[dreameroftheblue]

And guilty I may be But don't give up on me In the wake of the Odyssey We will still be thick as thieves You and me, still thick as thieves

[ittopilled]

HIHIHIHII DROPPING SOME DAVEMIGHT HERE

close-ups on their faces (￣▽￣)

[heartofjasmina]

Glorious

for @medusashima 's Live Deliciously collab <3

::

Toshinori always feels a twinge of embarrassment when he comes to your place. Your “place” being a hole drilled into the wall of one of the stalls of your buildings bathrooms, owned by David Shield. Dave was the first one to recommend you to him, simply calling you Zara, and saying she was the best at giving head.

“You mean she’s really good?” Toshi had asked, confused by the statement.

“No, buddy, I mean she’s the best. The best blowjob you’ll ever have.” Dave had hearts in his eyes as he spoke, and knowing how touched starved the scientist was (something they shared) made him hopeful.

He’d first stopped by in between missions. The only way he could get off with his amount of stamina and his size was with another person, as the collection of broken pocket pussies could show. The first time he’d felt you take his entire length down your throat he’d cum right then and there. You hadn’t gagged once and swallowed his seed with such hunger and need it made him hard all over again. When he collected himself, panting and heaving from the force of his orgasm, you pulled yourself off him with a lewd ‘pop’ that made him shiver. “Come back anytime, big guy. Your dick is a fucking masterpiece.”

Your voice was husky and low, probably from all the throat fuckings you’d taken throughout the night. It made him both aroused— and jealous if he was being honest with himself.

He was hooked.

He’d wake up from wet dreams of what it must be like to give you full access to his balls as well as his dick and after every mission he couldn’t but wonder, were you thinking of him the way he was thinking about you? More often than not he talked himself into making a “quick” stop at your place.

It became his only source of touch, beside the occasional one night stand with Dave where his friends ass swallowed his cock with an eagerness matched only by the man himself. As the number one hero, too many people assumed he didn’t need anything. No comforting pats on the back after hard missions. No hugs except from fans who were trying to cop a feel. Nothing. And he craved it. He craved touch so badly he felt suffocated by it sometimes.

One morning after a particularly depserate night with Dave he asked his friend as he was making them breakfast, “How did you meet her?”

“Zara?” Dave was looking through some notes on his current tech development and continued to answer without looking up. “She was a tenant, single, just wanted some company. But when I tried to date her, she refused. She said she had no need for a man beyond the occasional really nice dick to suck. Apparently it gets her off like nothing else. After a while she said she’d even suck a friend of mine if their dick was worth it.”

“Huh, and your first thought was me?” A sly smile was on his lips as he looked over his shoulder, and Dave grinned back.

“After having it inside me? Fuck yes. It would be selfish not to share you with a fellow size queen.” As if the answer was obvious, and that made Toshinori laugh so hard he burned the first of the pankcakes.

::

“Hey there big guy, long time no see.” He could see you smile through the hole, suddenly curious what your face looked like. Your lips were full and glistening with lipgloss that smelled faintly of vanilla.

But then you took his cock into your mouth and all ability to analyze melted away. You sucked him sloppy, moaning without a hint of shame, and with his super hearing he could easily detect the squelch of you fucking yourself.

“Dave said it gets you off, sucking dick.” It was the first time he had spoken when he was getting head from you, and he could feel you pause in fingering yourself.

“Name?” You pulled off his dick briefly, stopping the motion of your fingers inside you to ask your question breathleslly.

“Toshinori.” It came out as a whisper, and for the first time in a while he wondered when the last time was that he had someone to ask him his name.

“Toshi, then. When a dick is as pretty as yours, having it in my mouth is the most erotic thing. I love everything about it. The power in knowing I can make you weak in the knees with just my mouth, swallowing cum that proves I have you wrapped around my finger… Yeah. Sucking dick gets me off big time.” You breathed out and tapped the hole. “Now give me that beautiful dick of yours. I’m not done.”

“Yes, Zara.” He answered so sincerely it made your pussy ache to be filled with the dick in front of you.

Once more his glorious dick was fed through the hole, and you were once again in awe of just how perfect it was. Thick and flushed pink with shaved balls and a little tuft of blonde hair at its base.

You took your time the second time around, kissing his shaft’s head and licking up the precum that leaked from the slit. It made you smile on the inside to hear his breathing grow more and more uneven, the way you could see his thighs trembling slightly.

Only then did you take his full length down your throat again.

“Fuck me, my throat.” You whined as you stuffed your fingers inside your cunt again, the burning need for him only growing. “Need it— fuck I want it.”

Toshinori was beyond happy to give you what you needed, starting to fuck himself into your beautiful goddamn throat. It was better than any pussy he’d ever been inside. It only made him wonder what your pussy must be like, what you must be like.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” he warned as you took him all the way down and tongued his balls at the same time.

You hummed in approval and made no move to stop sucking him as usual, waiting patiently like the good girl you were for your treat.

The thing about Toshi’s loads is that they overwhelmed you. You had to scramble to swallow fast enough to take in the sheer amount of semen he dumped down your throat.

When he pulled out of your mouth you gasped for air, but you also felt your orgasm wash over you as you whined and slumped against the wall.

“That’s it, make your sweet little pussy feel good.” Toshinori couldn’t help but encourage you through it, wishing to hell there wasn’t a wall between you.

“Fuck, Toshi,” and damned if his name sounded better from your lips than anyone else. You finally let yourself relax only to be surprised by one last request.

“Let me taste.” You froze, questioning his seriousness, but then you saw his mouth opening like you always do for him.

Cunt burning, you stood and fed him your fingers drenched in your juices. His tongue greedily sought out every drop of your essence, sucking and licking your fingers clean.

FInally when he’d had his fill he pulled off your fingers, kissing your fingertips before standing and adjusting his pants.

“Until next time, Zara.” He murmured and you smiled to yourself.

“Till next time, Toshi.”

[sevenlikesfrogs]

ART DUMP

Ft. Starbunny and Davemight

[lockeddocs]

Just rewatched two heros

[doverstar]

when I explain to you that Ten is the equivalent of Enamored Smurf in the Doctor lineup

[isacksteban]

First Kiss (Race 5)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.9k words, angst, description of a car crash, drunk lance, fluffy ending) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {I picked David Coulthard to be the cause of the crash because he DNF in Europe 2006 and bc he's no stranger to being yelled at for crashes, LMAO}

last part - masterlist - next part

Lance walked back into the paddock, engaged in a conversation with Nico. He had yet to get his actual drivers liscense out of pure laziness so the German was left to drive them almost everywhere together.

"Thanks again" Lance laughed, feeling slightly bad for making Nico be his personal chauffeur.

"Don't thank me, I only do it so people believe our PR friendships real" He joked, nudging the taller man with his elbow

"Ow" Lance frowned, clutching his heart "Words hurt, Rosberg" He looked down, trying to hide the smile on his face

"Cmon, daddy didn't tell you he's paying me for this?"

"No way, are we both being paid?" Lance looked up, the fake shocked expression on his face earning a laugh from his teammate

Qualifying was okay, Nico secured 9th and Lance got 12th (after a minor chassis problem that caused him to have to pit for half of quali)

Lance should've been upset but he didn't mind, he'd been in front of Nico most of the season so far so he was looking forward to letting his teammate shine.

Of course he wanted to win like everyone else in F1 but the last thing he was going to do was let it ruin personal relationships he was building, work was completely different than home, his friends were different than the coworkers he knew.

He greeted Nico warmly, congratulating him as Quali ended, wishing him good luck on the race the next day.

Fernando came over not long after, having secured pole position.

"Lancito, good job today" He hummed, patting the Canadian on the back

"I'm convinced I could get p30 and you'd still congratulate me" Lance laughed, wrapping his arm around the Spaniard

"It takes a lot of skill to do so bad they have to make a new space for you" Fernando shook his head, his lips slightly curved up as he spoke

"I'm just saving all my energy for the race when I overtake you"

"Oh, really? I'll keep an eye out for you then, mi sol" He said, eyes only leaving Lance when he heard his name being called, his engineer needing him "Good luck tomorrow, Lancito. Let's get you points again, eh?"

Lance nodded, watching as the older man left, feeling his heart flutter in his chest as he thought about how he was looking up at him. It felt nice having someone to admire in the sport as much as Lance admired Fernando, he was a great driver.

Time passed faster than Lance thought it would, before Lance knew it he was lined up on the grid, eyes scanning the cars around him, David Coulthard in p11 next to him.

As the lights went out and the race begun he sent it, overtaking into p10 almost straight away, Coulthard close behind him.

It stayed this way for a few laps, the Brit almost on his rear wing as they raced, he was just trying to keep him there.

It seemed as if everything was going according to plan until the pair reached turn 14 once more, Coulthard was sure he'd be able to overtake, speeding up and reaching Lances side just to be met with their wheels touching, Lance could feel it in his body as the drivers car made contact with his, his left back tire practically flying off his car as he spun out of controll, David losing his front wing as Lance spun of the track, causing him to pull off as well, tire losing air as both cars came to a stop.

They were on opposite sides of the track, the asphalt between them stopping any conversations from happening.

Once he reached the Racing Point garage he was quick to storm down the pit lane, tearing off his helmet and balaclava as he found his way to the Red Bull garage, Brad trying to stop the fuming Canadian

"Lance, Lance stop it. Come back to the garage we need to-"

"Fuck off, Okay? This is a fucking sport and a part of that is talking it out after shit like this happens. Believe me, I have some things to say to Coulthard." He practically spat, not meaning to take his anger out on his engineer but he was the closest one there

They reached the garage, a crowd forming as the two began speaking

"Do you feel better now? Fighting with me over tenth place knowing damn well neither of us were in the position to earn points anyways?"

"I know you're a rookie so you might not get it yet but part of RACING is OVERTAKING, I was doing what I'm here to do."

"You're here to destroy my car and run me off the fucking track? Really? I find that hard to fucking believe, Coulthard."

"Oh come on, Lance. We all know your daddy doesn't have a problem with fixing your mistakes. That's how you got the seat, right? Daddy knew you fuck up too much to get a seat so he bought two for you and Keke Rosbergs son."

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, Coulthard. You know that?" Lance got closer, he already wasn't finishing the race so how much harm would a little physical contact outside of the car cause?

By now both of the teams where trying to stop the drivers, yelling and trying to get between the two men, blinded by anger towards one another

The race was slowly finishing, Fernando ending up in p2 as the fight was still going on, Lance screaming into the 35 year olds face as he scoffed, refusing to apologize, Lance didn't think of himself as a violent person but he wasn't going to stand around and let some ugly arrogant prick disrespect him and refuse to admit the crash was his fault.

"YOU RUINED THE RACE FOR THE BOTH OF US." All he wanted was for that to get through the Englishmans thick fucking skull "God, you're a fucking fils de pute." He spoke under his breath, astonished at the audacity of the racer "You know, for someone who's been racing for twelve years and hasn't even come close to a world championship you sure are a stuck up cunt."

And with that Lance was finally pulled away from the garage, David Coulthard having nothing to say in response.

Lance felt like he was getting scolded for hours, even if it was only 15 minutes, the team trying to explain how he shouldn't have done that even if it was Coulthards fault

"Lancito?" He heard a familiar voice, being snapped away from his thoughts as he shot up, leaving members of the team in the middle of their sentences to go to Fernando

"Thank fucking god you're here. Are you thirsty? I'd kill for a drink right now"

"Lancito, Are you sure drinking is the best thing for you to do now?" He questioned as if he wasn't still following behind him

"What, do you think I'm being dramatic too?" He scoffed, stopping in his tracks to turn back to Fernando, he looked mad to anyone else but Fernando knew he was just hurt, Lance hated crashes, hated not finishing, hated disappointing people, and even though the last thing Fernando was was disappointed in the boy he knew Lance would still think he was.

"Let's get you that drink, mi sol. Getting your mind off it will help, eh?"

Lance expected to be taken to some cheap place around the city but instead Fernando drove them back to his hotel, deciding it'd be better to let Lance cause a scene in his hotel room rather than in some German bar.

The two drank together, Lances lack of experience and tollerance when it came to alcohol being painfully obvious.

"He's such a prick" Lance slurred, his voice more whiney than usual

"I know, Lancito, He really is." Fernando hummed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes stayed on the Canadian

"You're like my guardian angel, Nando, y'know?" Lance looked at him, lips slightly curved before he began speaking again "Never stop congratualting me, please, it-" hiccup "It means a lot"

Fernando just nodded, setting down his glass

"I-" He stopped abruptly, drinking more "I love doing good, when I do good I know you'll be proud of me" He ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed at the long strands covering his vision "I'm sorry- I'm sorry I'm not the best, Nando" He confessed, looking over at the Spaniard "I don't deserve my seat, but- but it's okay because I get to see you, I love seeing you win, it makes what people say about me worth it when I'm the first one you come to after the podium"

Fernando just listened, not saying much as it became more and more evident Lance would forget it all by the next morning anyway

"I-" hiccup " I love seeing you walk to me, passing all the girls, they're so pretty, it makes no sense why you walk past them for me, but i love it, seeing you ignore them and look at me like I'm prettier than all of them" hiccup

He smiled, not being able to help it as he heard the younger ramble on, glad he was no longer stuck on being upset about the crash

"Don't stop, Nando"

"Hm?" Fernando hummed, watching Lance set down his glass. He took that as a chance to stand up and snatch it away, figuring the younger man had drank enough. Fernando and Lance were now closer, Fernando looking down at Lance as he awaited a response

"Looking at me like this, taking care of me how you do, please don't leave me, Nando" He begged, reaching out for the Spaniards arm "Promise me you'll never stop congratulating me after races, please Nando, I need you."

He was taken aback by the sudden change in tone Lance had brought to the conversation. Fernando swallowed dryly, staring back at the Canadian, he looked gorgeous, the waves of his hair messily laying across his face, the lighting hitting him just right to show off the gorgeous colour of his eyes

"Let's get you to bed, Lance." He whispered, helping him stand up as he walked with him to his bed, pulling back the covers with one hand while he held Lance with the other, surprised at how light the Canadian really was

He sat Lance down, kneeling to take off his shoes before instructing him to lay down and pulling the covers back up.

"Goodnight, Lancito" He whispered, brushing the hair from his face as the Canadian hummed a response, not fighting sleep as it took over him surprisingly fast

Fernando on the other hand was fighting, not sleep, but the feelings Lance brought to light with his drunken words. He hadn't thought much of it before, sure he felt different with Lance than he did with his other friends but he was so much younger that he figured he was just taking a more mature role in the friendship. Now he wasn't so sure.

[ittopilled]

davemight, that is it i fear

davemight villain auuu

more (SUGGESTIVE) davemight art under the cut

all of it is my art!!

[vampducki]

They turned their boyfriend into a snowman (ó﹏ò｡)

Merry christmas✨

[genyawritesshizz]

A Hum of Time. Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Part 4

Summary: An innocent relationship between two workaholics could not possibly be that eventful. Just two individuals finding comfort within each other's company and the occasional cup of coffee. What happens when a secret that could ruin both of their careers brings the whole thing crashing down? In a heart wrenching decision, you must do what is best for all three of you and brave the future alone. Will you ever tell the truth? You might not have a choice.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tigger Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore! Depression and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

4550-word count

Unleashing the angst MUHAHAHHA >:)))))

He could not just let you go. 

The night his personal world stopped spinning burned itself into his mind. Replaying the memory on a repeated loop until he was inevitably pulled into another mind busying task. All in attempts to shun it from his visage, yet it always came back. Vivid and raw the memory played. 

Coming back from a late night at the office with eyes battling the sting of sleep he wandered into the safety of your shared apartment. Far too tired to think he contemplated collapsing on the couch, yet a growl from his stomach pushed him past the cushions. He had not eaten today, something you’d surely scold him for. A sickening wet crunch under his shoe when he entered the kitchen caused his eyes to fully open, his consciousness returning. Finally taking notice of his surroundings the area was akin to a homicide scene. Shattered glass littered the tiled floor. The wooden door to the cabinet lay splintered. At first glance his frantic mind feared blood smeared on the walls, but as the stinging pungent stench of alcohol and fruit penetrated his nose it was thankfully wine.

“(Y/N)?” He called, voice higher in pitch with panic. The sound echoed through the house yet received no reply. Cold sweat of dread ran down his forehead, his intuition screaming in unease. Calling for you again he paced the hallway towards your shared bedroom. Maybe you’d fallen asleep? Maybe you had partaken in too much wine and passed out? His heart hammered against his chest; adrenaline coursed through his veins as he flung the door open. Eyes scanning the room, his anxiety swelled to a peak at seeing the room in disarray. Clothes littered the floor and storage boxes once hidden under the bed lay strewn about. Running to the conjoined bathroom as a last hope, it too was barren. With labored breath he pulled his cellphone out, fingers hammering against the numbers as he prepared to call the authorities until the buzz of a text made his heart stop.

(y/n): ‘I can't do this anymore Toshinori. Please, take care of yourself.’

“No..” 

“Your call has been forwarded to an automotive voice mess-””

“NO! NO! NO!”

“Your call has been forwarded to an automotive voice messaging system. At the tone, please record your message.” His fingers lost their grip around the device. He soon joined it. Fallen and broken on the bathroom floor. 

‘She’s gone? She left? Why?’ 

Through grief he pondered why. Why did you leave? Why did you not talk to him before making such a drastic decision? He knew the answer, any fool with half a heart could understand why. When was the last time the couple genuinely had a moment together? When has there ever been time to discuss it? Guilty and heartbroken at knowing he had failed you he curled in around himself. Laying on the cold tile floor until the sun arose anew and the duty that had taken him from you and in turn you from him, called once more. 

The real world stopped for no one.

A transfer request from an American agency sitting atop his desk two weeks later solidified it in his mind, you were truly gone. Off to America to continue being a hero, back on course to living your dream, without him. He pushed you away, just like everyone else.

In reality your life had been anything but a dream. Your own heartache grief had set in upon watching the life you’d spent years creating grow distant from the window of an airplane. Anything you had to show for it had been stuffed in a carry on and two suitcases. Finding comfort only through rubbing the small swell of your stomach, all of this was for them. It did not matter how you felt, as long as Toshinori and this child could continue living on, it would all be worth it.

‘Do it for them.’

Those words pushed you through the hellish ensuing months. 

From the cold nights sitting homeless in the streets desperate to find rest to signing a lease on a dilapidated studio apartment. From anguished job searching and inevitably failing due to awaiting international credit transfers to suiting up once again ready to hit the streets for patrol. From anonymous women's health clinics being subjected to hours of lecturing on the danger of continuing this path to the announcement of his gender. From redesigning your suit to hide the growing bump to taking a ‘leave of absence’ as your baby boy prepares to make his debut. From the broken amniotic sac to pushing alone. From your crying to his as he was birthed into the world. 

Through all the pain and hardship, you forged a new life for them. 

To some you were Siren, a young Japanese hero who decided to adventure out into America for the thrill of crime fighting. To others you were (y/n) (y/l/n) the single mother who worked overtime just to put food on the table. A double life. 

Determined to make it work you pushed yourself above and beyond, plus ultra, for them.

It’s been years since you left, two to be exact. Yet he still caught himself coming home in the early hours of the morning after a long night of crime fighting in his sleep deprived and battered state expecting you to be curled up in your shared bed asleep. Sometimes he’d instinctively open the microwave expecting a plate of dinner you always left out for him. Only to stare blankly into the appliance, the rotating plate stained with splats of dried noodles and spilled soup from his countless cups of instant ramen. Any hints of your cooking lost in the charred remains. 

He’d just go to bed hungry, not like he had much of a stomach anyways. 

The oversized costume slid off his boney shoulders with ease plopping into a heap on the floor. He did not bother to hang it up. Without you there to cook and badger him into eating actual meals coupled with already being on a downhill slide post injury his physic deteriorated drastically. Outside of flexing to be All Might he was skin and bones, any muscle or stored fat had eroded rapidly.

The bed was, as always, abandoned. Sheets still crumpled and thrown to the floor from when he had previously rolled out hours ago. Feeling far too large, too cold, too… empty; He lay awake, insomnia plagued.  Even before your relationship he struggled to rest, now without you to coax him into laying down and calming his mind within your arms he slipped back into old habits. More often than not he laid in silence, mind wandering into the abyss of what ifs. Either the phone or computer were his only distractions, though they only fueled his obsession. 

“Holy shit!” The live feed cellphone footage currently playing on his computer had his full attention. 

Toshinori watched, his hand gripped tight into a white knuckled fist. Eyes locked onto the computer screen volume blaring through the speakers. The flashing brightness from the screen illuminates the darkened room. He’d been keeping a close watch on any and all of your heroic activities since you had left for the states. He initially told himself it was for ‘research purposes’ that the agency could somehow possibly benefit from this. But deep down he knew it was simply for his own mental stability. He’d search your hero's name, sometimes your personal name. Though any of your true accounts which you managed had been privatized, he was removed as a follower long ago, he still checked. 4am in Japan meant 12pm for you, he could almost always catch live feed of either interviews or street footage of a battle. If not, the latest articles or reruns would have to work. His go to being your first interview.

‘Just a few minutes’ he’d tell himself, a lie of course. He always ended up doom scrolling, anything to avoid the inevitable void of his own mind. He knew he should not be so invested; he should have let you leave and cut all ties. But his need to know of your well-being had a mind of its own. Even the most minute of detail never lost on needy eyes. From your confusing costume redesign debut to the media’s comments on your weight gain and even the fan-made blogs; he absorbed it all. He distinctly remembered a time when he thought he’d lost you, when it had been announced that you’d taken a leave of absence. Fearful that he had lost his only way of seeing you he asked his entrusted ally and friend David Shield to keep tabs on you. It was bordering on stocking, yet he had to know. David reassured him, offered an open ear and allowed the broken man to voice his woes. However, at the mention of therapy he swiftly declined, he did not have time for such nonsense. He’d be okay, as long as he knew you were. Sympathetic to his friend's bleeding-heart David agreed.

It was wrong but he could not stop. 

Definitely not now. 

Tuning into another live feed a man holding a cellphone ran through the debris field. A large-scale attack had left the bodies of both civilians, heroes, and villain's littering the ground. Some crushed with rubble others fallen in combat, the scene resembled an old war movie. The camera man's labored breath puffed against the recording as he crossed no man's land. Occasionally zooming in when recognizing a body with a slew of swears. Crouching down behind mounds of concrete he steadied the phone to face the ensuing battle. 

You were the last one standing. 

Already taking out four smaller opponents, fatigue begged your body to retreat. Yet as the man before you stood strong any hope of rest would have to wait. With smooth, languid swipes of his fists you struggled to defend. Their combat style was telling that they were trained and trained well. As well as their quirk, whatever it was it somehow allowed him to withstand several of your ear-piercing cries and punch with enough force to crater the ground. Some kind of enhancement.

Whoever this was, they were strong and clearly outclassed you.

You were not a close combat-based hero, your quirk worked better at distance. But as he continued advancing the unavoidable fist fight ensued. Sweat beaded down your forehead, heart pounding and chest heaving. 

Overuse of your quirk and the never-ending bursts of evasions were pushing your already exhausted body past its limits. He had managed to graze you a couple times, even mostly dodged, the attacks crushed the bones beneath. Swallowing back a thick mouth full of blood you pushed harder. 

“You heroes are nothing more than slaves to the government. Cogs in the machine.” Whipping his body around with full force his left fist slammed into your defensive body. You smirked, 

‘Finally!’ He had used this exact move pattern two times before. ‘Left jab, advance then he’ll try to swing again.’  You were finally beginning to memorize his fighting style. 

On the offense you began targeting his unguarded areas. Opening your mouth, you launched a screech to flinch and stagger him. Then began landing crucial blows. Even if it could not directly damage him the cries force still allowed much needed leverage. Though weak, in quick succession your punches would break down his defense. Just had to keep it up. If you kept staggering him with your quirk and chipping away, you could win. Even though your throat burned, and thick hot liquid again pooled into your mouth you had to push through it. It will heal eventually. 

Toshinori smiled, seeing you succeed filled his chest with bittersweet pride. This was unlike anything he’d seen you involved in over the years. A true brawl, much like his own encounters.

You got too cocky.

A fatal mistake. 

As you rushed to attack again the foe had grabbed your fist mid punch in one hand. With a tightening grip the fragile ulnar and radius bones snapped. 

He too had memorized your predictable pattern. 

‘How.. How'd he grab me? I thought he was at least a li-’

It happened within milliseconds; with unyielding strength he slung your body forward as if you weighed nothing and into his other hand aimed right at your abdomen. The steeled fingertips pierced through the soft skin with a sickening snap and pop. Obliterating through the organs and protruded out of your back. 

“NO” Toshi’s desperate scream was drowned out by your horrifying cry echoing through the speakers. The sounds bounced off the walls and pounding into his eardrums.  

This was unlike anything he’d heard from you before. He was accustomed to your ultrasonic cries as that was your quirk, but this… this was from deep within your soul, screaming in excruciating agony. 

You had fallen into the foe's trap. One move out of place, one misjudged situation, and now the villain's hand had practically disemboweled you. 

Toshinori’s smile had vanished, and his heart fell through his partially removed stomach. His mouth now hung open in shock. He could do nothing but watch as your face twisted and contorted in pure torture as the scream howled through your body. He felt queasy.

You could not move, held in place, speared, in shock. Your scream died out and with what little energy it had left your body convulsed and flinched against the intruder. Until it inevitably gave up, slumping onto the villain, your forehead falling to his collar. The amount of fluid pouring from your lips and nose ran like a river coating his chest. Black gripped the edges of your vision; it was getting harder to breathe.

You always imagined that when you died, you’d be held by someone you loved, to hear their heartbeat against your ear, their breaths falling down on your face in soothing comfort. Instead, the man ending it all stared down at you, a twisted smile on his face as he took great pleasure in your suffering.

Glancing over with dazed vision your eyes made contact with the small group of citizens huddled together. A little girl stood out amongst the crowd, Clutching onto the pant leg of her mother. Her face dirty and bloodied with tears stained her puffy cheeks, she shook in terror. No child should have to witness such atrocities. No child should fear for their life. No child should be without their mother.

You are a HERO goddamit. You must fight until your last breath. You CANNOT give up. 

For her.

For these people. 

DO IT FOR THEM .

Adrenaline coursed through your veins; the once mind shattering pain dulled into a distant buzz. Reaching both hands up you grabbed the shocked villain's head and pushed yourself forward, now face to face. Sucking in air you filled your lungs to the point of bursting and expelled the strongest ultrasonic scream you could belt. Bits of bloodied flesh, most likely parts of your larynx, sprayed along the sound waves. Yet there was no pain.

Any window within the five-block radius shattered, and car alarms blew. The phone camera Toshinori watched from vibrated and quality blurrely faltered.  Even if this villain had a resistance to your quirk at such point blank range nothing could withstand such raw power. His eardrums shattered and head felt on the verge of bursting. Capillaries shattered and skin threatened to tear from bones.

Letting go of his now limp body he fell backwards. The hand forcefully dislodged from your abdomen as he collapsed in a convulsing heap. He would never recover from this injury, you’ll surely have a strike on your license for this… if you survive.

Your body waved and staggered, stumbling to find solid footing. The adrenaline was running out, so was time.

The crowds remained silent, staring in awe and horror as you finally stood straight. The gaping hole ripped through your torso threatened to spill your internal organs, a few weeping strands hung loose. With one hand you attempted to cover it, the feeling of your own entrails squishing within your hand was unable to process. Out of body. 

Shaking but standing, your other arm slowly lifted, spasming you held it above your head, fist clenched. A pose many had come to know and love. A symbol of victory. 

‘My pose’… 

As the cheers began you could not hold the dam within your throat, in a splattering cough the pavement ran with your blood. 

Slamming to your knees you fell, body going limp and falling face first into the soaked concrete. 

No, you cannot die now. 

Your son needs you. 

You need to get up.

You have to.

For

Them. 

Fighting away the cold that threatened to swallow you as long as possible with one final breath it consumed you in seconds. 

The bystander recording dropped his phone and ran away. Audible sobs snuffled as his heavy footsteps grew distant. The phone continued recording for over thirty minutes. Sounds of police sirens and support hero’s arriving at the scene could be heard in the background before the live stream abruptly ended, the battery ran dead. Toshinori could not look away even as the screen blackened. His mind spiraled, failing to realize what he had witnessed. 

Did he…

Did he just watch you die ? 

He needed someone there, now.

“David”

“I know I saw, I'm on my way”

Opening your eyes yet surrounded in darkness. A heavy weight placed over your face. Opening your mouth nothing more than rushed air escaped, something thick had lodged itself into your throat preventing the sound from escaping. Panicked, your hands began flailing, desperately trying to grab the foreign object. Grasping it you tugged, retching as it slid halfway out of your throat. Going for another tug until another set of hands gripped onto your arms, trying desperately to hold you down.

“Ma’am please calm down, you’re in-” 

You tried to yell, again garbled behind the plastic. Words could not form, your throat felt as if you had swallowed glass. With all your strength you whipped your head side to side, the device finally dislodged.

“You’re in a hospital, I’m a nurse. You’ve suffered life threatening injuries, please-”

Hot bloody saliva splattering across your bandaged face and trickling down to pool into your matted hair as you thrashed, Screaming loud echoes of broken sentences. Fragments of your quirk activating ricocheted round the room. As you continued thrashing, the feeling of something ripping within the depths of your abdomen gave birth to white hot pain. Only amplifying the howls.

The hands let go, a door opened and closed. A few moments passed before the sound of it repeated again. Heavy footsteps approached your bedside, followed by the sound of rusted wheels scraping against a hard floor.

“Ripped out the endotracheal. Incision site reopened.”. 

“It’s going to be okay,” An unfamiliar male voice called.

The world turned blank once again, sounds became distant, fading from consciousness.

“Can you hear me ma’am?” The world spun an endless loop of muted colors before shifting back to reality. The face of an unknown woman filled your vision, her deep skin wrinkled into a smile as she looked down to you. “My name is Natasha, I’m your nurse. I’m glad to see you’re finally awake!” 

She leaned away from your bedside and began typing on her laptop.

You did not try to reply, her words finally registering. Staring into the white painted wall your mind felt like a vast ocean of emptiness, all ships of thought crushed under the waves, except one. As if reading your mind the nurse glanced back down.

“You should not try to speak but, you’ve got a couple guests waiting on you, would you like to see them?” 

Your head whipped around, eyes burrowing into hers with silent pleases. She smiled. 

“I’ll go get them. Just be sure to keep the blanket above your chest, wouldn’t want to scare the little one.” 

The door opened and her footsteps trailed off. Lifting the blanket in curiosity the sight of several tubes entering the dressing covered gap parted in the once smooth skin of your abdomen filled you with horror. Before beginning to dwell on the marred sight footsteps returned, this time tiny shoes ran close behind. 

The one thing on your mind, the one person you needed most right now, ran through the door.

“MOMMA!” The child screamed, his small hands gripping at the sheets trying to climb into the bed with you. Your wrapped hand met his tiny set, rubbing gently at his smooth skin. 

“...en..o” You cried to him. His forehead wallowed into the white sheets, wiping his tears. Your heart felt heavy, seeing your once always smiling baby deduced to hysterics all because of you. His mother, his protector, did this to him. Guilt.

That was close. 

Too close. 

Never again. 

Your hero career is over.

They can fix you up, heal the broken bones and bruises, close up the wounds, but…

The thought of having actually died and leaving your four year old son to face this cruel world alone was far worse than the shame of such a public beat down. Far worse than even death itself. 

You can not do this anymore. 

The delusional thought that you could somehow live in the best of both worlds simply was impossible. Nana was right, balancing both was impossible. The life of a hero was your fantasy, but you had already lived it. Raising this child and being there for him was your new dream.

As of now, Siren is dead. She died on the concrete saving the people. At least that’s what was told to the media. 

To live a life free from that career you had to lay low. Uproot and leave again and start over. Abandon it. 

It had run its course.

A cough from the doorway caught your attention, looking over a man you had heard so much about from your former lover stood. His back leaned against the wall as he watched mother and son reunite. A face of penance drawn onto downcasted aqua eyes.

“We’ll talk later.” Taking a seat facing away from your bed he waited. 

‘ I can’t go back.’ The engineer looked from the yellow notepad held in your hands, the words on the page scribbled in haste, to the little boy sleeping beside you. Your son's hands clung to your gown, careful of the tubbing flowing from underneath, his under eyes dark and dried snot clung to his reddened skin. No child should feel this way.

“He’s Yagi’s isn’t he?”

You nodded ‘yes’. 

“Does he know?”

 Sighing deeply you shook ‘no.’

The brunet took in a deep breath, his head throbbing with the weight of his upcoming actions. Taking your notepad you wrote another note; ‘No one can know.’

“I know.”

The government could cover anything up. Falsifying documents was light work.

‘KIA’

The bold red letters under your hero name only caused the already endless black hole in Toshinori’s stomach to plummet deeper. With no reply from David, he had spent hours searching for an update, anything regarding your condition. News articles had reported on the gruesome scene yet held nothing in regard to your well being, instead focusing on the trauma such a sight made for civilians.The sun had already risen above the skyscrapers hours ago yet time held no meaning for him. 

Pulling out all the stops he tried to bypass all encryptions to read the full report the moment it had been posted. First as the head of the All Might Hero Agency, Yagi Toshinori.

Permission denied.  

Something wet hit his hands as he furiously kept typing, his fingers practically hammering the keys in half. 

Finally a new page loaded. As the world's number one symbol of peace, All Might, he could access almost anything relating to heroes. Several links loaded onto the page.

What he saw made him nauseous.

‘Postmortem Examination Report’ ‘Autopsy Report’ ‘Death Certificate’  

His hand had a mind of its own, shackly double clicking on a link . He refused to accept this.. 

‘it couldn’t be…’

He wished he hadn’t. Yet he could not go back.

‘ Autopsy Report conducted by; US FEDERAL GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT OF FORENSIC SCIENCE.

Patient name: (y/n) (y/l/n) - Siren. Quirk; Voice

Manner of death; Homicide.

How Injury Occurred; Heroism.

Anatomical Summary:

Blunt Trauma.

Blunt trauma of head.

Multiple lacerations to face, scalp, and neck.

Multiple fractures of skull and face.

Evisceration of larynx.

Blunt Trauma of Chest and Abdomen, Fatal. 

Multiple fractures of ribs.

Traumatic injuries on the neck.

Evisceration of internal organs. Fatal. 

With both fists clenched he slammed them down on the keyboard. With a loud crack the hard plastic splintered, sending letter tiles flying. 

“God damnit!”

Toshinori shook, his body trembling. He’d read more than enough autopsy reports, yet he couldn’t hold back the vomit mixed blood that now lurched out of his mouth. Caring not as the mixture ran down his face and onto the desk. He heaved over and over until no more came.

He accepted the break up, he accepted you moving, he accepted that you were no longer in his life. But, accepting that you had died in battle? He couldn’t-wouldn’t. 

If he was stronger, if he had more time in his Might form he could’ve helped, could’ve done something, anything! Even if you were halfway across the world.

 if he just had more time…

If he had not driven you away…

If he had not…

He cried loud billowed sobs until his eyes burned red and his head woozy from dehydration.  

His phone rang, buzzing on the counter. The ringtone far too loud, too boisterous.

He didn’t have time to grieve. 

He had to pull himself together. 

The world stopped for no one,

And it still needed him.

This however could not stop the outbursts, the accidents, nor the mask from slipping from time to time. He felt as though he was losing his mind, not that it was completely sound before, but now more than ever he felt the edges of insanity encroaching. Try as he might to appear unfazed, Toshinori Yagi, All Might, was broken. 

Out in the streets until his body gave out, he on more than one occasion found himself failing to pull his punches, accidentally using far too much force to take down a villain. Landing convenience store robbers in the hospital for months of recovery with broken ribs and mangled appendages. 

The media was beginning to notice this shift in their symbol. He was losing control.

Inside the office was where a whole other beast was unleashed. Dozens of broken laptops and computer screens lined the recycling bins, destroyed in a moment of reminiscing. The long hours turned overnight as his caffeine intake and workload skyrocketed.  The cafe was his cesspool of self loathing, he drank coffee there almost as a form of torture at this point, each freshly brewed cup a slap in the face as the scent and scenery only reminded him of something that will never be again. 

He was truly a shell of his former self. Empty, Hollow, Broken.

[sevenlikesfrogs]

SCHOOL DOODLES :D

(I forgor to post these here lmao)

From 9/30/24 - 10/4/24

[sc-doesart]

MORE INTERACTIONS!

I’m imagining these happening after the “Heroic Headlines” banquet, a banquet created to celebrate the symbiotic relationship between reporters and heroes.

Likes and reblogs always appreciated!

[ankle-breaker-101]

So, uh, I’ve been a little interested in cod recently and I may or may not have made three ocs for it…so, yeah! If y’all wanna see some pics of them, I’ve drawn them several times now. I’ll give y’all the backstory that I know about them so far if y’all want that too.(I will warn y’all that one of my ocs is in an ‘oc x canon’ situation along with being apart of a ‘found family’ situation. The other two are sort of background characters, but that’s only because that one oc is my favorite one, BUT I’ve still given them quite a bit of love and story, so I’ll post the pic of all three of them together along with their names. Let me know if y’all are interested in them.)

(In order from left to right:)

Elvira Kuznetsov: Russian, 28 yrs old, bisexual, aromantic

Davy (David) Price: American (Louisiana), 30 yrs old, androsexual (yes, in my au, he takes on John Price’s last name because he’s like a father to him)

Laney García: Mexican, 32 yrs old, gyneromantic, asexual