#gran torino x you

[actuallysaiyan]

Bruises That Won't Heal(Sorahiko Torino/Gran Torino x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, age gap(reader in mid 20s and Torino probably close to 40s), mentions of Nana and Sorahiko being together, Nana's death being mentioned, alcohol, angst, crying, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, breast play, pregnancy mention. word count: 2.2k pairings: Sorahiko Torino/Gran Torino x Fem!Reader summary: you've fantasized about him for so long, and after Nana's death you wonder if maybe you should shoot your shot. he takes good care of you during your first time, but afterwards the glitter fades and he gives you a taste of reality. a/n: I do not know what came over me but I decided to write this and then it got fucking angsty and I couldn't stop. Hope y'all enjoy! Thank you @cherryblossombankai for beta reading!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist:  @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

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You didn’t know what really drew you in. He was a miserable man, frowning all the time. You figured since the death of Nana Shimura, he wasn’t the same. There was a lack of glow within him. And for so long, you had looked up to both of them. Losing Nana had been a devastating blow to you.

You knew that Gran Torino had sent his little protege off to America, hopefully to keep the enemy away from him. While you should have been going gaga over Toshinori, you couldn’t help but have your eyes on Gran Torino.

Damn Sorahiko…

You wanted this crush to go away. You wanted it to fade completely. But the more you tried to push it away, the more you found yourself wanting to find the man and maybe help him with the pain of losing his partner. You weren’t sure if he and Nana were actually romantically involved, but you were thinking there must have been something there.

When you meet up with him next, he tries to ignore you. You weren’t going to give up just like that. You try your best to get his attention, but he’s just not quite interested just yet.

Then one night, you two end up at the bar together. With a few drinks in him, he loosens up just a bit.. Your heart is racing every time he gets so close to you. He smells nice; rich and inviting. It’s almost intoxicating to your senses. He keeps bringing you out to the dancefloor between drinks. Soon you two are tucked away in the alleyway out back.

“What does a perfectly lovely young woman want with an old man like me?” He asks, nipping at your neck.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. You’re my inspiration.”

He freezes at your words. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into. But he’s been lonely since he lost Nana. She’d be scolding him for becoming so depressed and letting himself go.. She would be happy that someone is showing interest in him.

“Inspiration, huh? You’ve got weird tastes, girlie.”

But he still kisses you hungrily. You can taste the whiskey on his breath. You can’t help yourself; you press your body up against his. You feel the definition of muscles, loving the way he’s trying to buff up for you right now. It’s like he’s trying to put on a show just for you.

“How long have you wanted this for?” He asks you between heated kisses.

You blush and look down. “Too long.’”

He grins, “Come on, tell me.”

“I’ve been fantasizing about being with you since I was about twenty…”

This causes him to groan. You really have been fantasizing about him and his cock since you were twenty…god it shouldn’t be that hot, but it is. He brings your hand down to his pants, helping you squeeze his bulge.

“Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl.”

The words make you shudder. “Can’t help it. Daddy.”

This word causes him to pick you up and hurriedly fly you to his apartment. He opens the door with ease, helping you inside. Once in his bedroom, the man pushes you onto his bed. You get a good idea of how sad he’s been considering the room is in complete disarray. But you push those thoughts away, wanting to see where this night goes.

“You want me to take good care of you, don’t you?” He asks, his cheeks a little pink.

You nod. “Please daddy.”

Sorahiko begins to strip you. He’s surprisingly tender, which makes your heart feel so full of affection. You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s actually your first time. You’re faking things to make sure he thinks you’re experienced. Though, he’s pretty confident in being able to tell that this is your first time.

His big hands cup your breasts, pushing them together before leaning in to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed and you eagerly run your fingers through his hair. He didn’t think this small action would cause him to falter in his movements. It just feels so good to have someone showing him affection. 

His eyes lock with yours as he continues to suckle on your nipples and nip at the swell of your breast. It’s been a while since he’s been intimate. He’s had a few hookups since his last time with Nana, and he’s so desperately trying to push that last time out of his mind. All he wants to do is lose himself to the feeling of you.

“Sorahiko…” you let out when his fingers brush against your wet labia.

He smirks at you. “Pretty girl’s all wet for me…but I don’t think you deserve more until you use my proper name.”

“D-daddy, please don’t tease.”

Despite it being your first time, Sorahiko is quite convinced you’re experienced. You want to tell him, but you’re worried it might scare him off. So you spread your legs more, bucking only when he teases you just a little more. He smears your arousal all over your labia and clit, spending his time rubbing the little nub in just the way you like it.

“That’s it, that’s daddy’s girl.”

One of his fingers pushes into you and you gasp. You weren’t expecting that just a finger would be such a stretch. He looks into your eyes once more, making sure you’re feeling alright. There’s such a look of concern and it makes your heart skip a beat. You nod, letting him know it’s okay.

“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” His voice is soft and laced with tenderness.

Your cheeks burn and you try to look away. “Y-yes, it is.”

He leans in to capture your lips in such a sweet kiss. It makes your head whirl with so many emotions. You shouldn’t be falling in love with a man who’s much older than you, but the way he’s stimulating you makes you realize that he might be ruining sex for you with anyone else.

“Let me take care of you.”

His words make your whole body warm up. He continues to pump his finger into you, making sure to go slow. His thumb comes up to rub your clit in time. Soon he’s adding another finger. Torino watches for any signs of discomfort before he begins to scissor the fingers inside of you to stretch you out. He then leans in again and kisses you over and over.

“Cum for me, beautiful.”

It takes a few more thrusts of his fingers to send you over the edge with a soft pant of his name. He loves the way you look when you come undone like this. Your cheeks flush, hair sticking to your face and your legs shaking. He prolongs the pleasure until you’re squirming.

Then he pulls off his own clothes. You get the full eyeful of him. He’s gorgeous, toned and he has a littering of scars on his body. The way you so tenderly caress his chest has his breath hitching in his throat. Nobody but Nana has ever touched him quite like this.

“You sure you’re okay with this, kiddo?” He asks once more, rubbing your thighs as he slots himself between them.

You nod eagerly. “I’m ready. I want this.”

Sorahiko grasps his cock, letting it rub between your soaked folds before the tip prods your tight little hole. You gasp and cling to him when he pushes into you. It’s slow at first, and he’s whispering soft words of praise to keep you feeling comfortable and safe. A few tears slide down your cheeks and he’s good to kiss them away.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby girl.” He coos so softly.

Bit by bit, he pushes more of himself into you. When he bottoms out, he looks into your eyes and he grabs your hands. Your heart skips a beat when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I’ll always be here to take good care of you,” he whispers but you swear those words are meant for someone else.

Your heart clenches in your chest and you try not to cry again. You wish you could just fall in love with him. You know you could never take away the pain of losing Nana, but you could help him heal. You could help him see that he’s so worthy of love.

Sorahiko begins thrusting, making the bed under you rock a little. You gasp as his cock hits the sweet spot inside of you. The stretch is being replaced with delicious pleasure that you never knew could exist. You immediately wrap your legs around him to bring him in even closer.

He kisses you hungrily and sloppily, the remnants of the alcohol running through his system. He feels like old wounds are being opened and you are just tearing down the walls he’s been putting up for way too long. He hates that you can just so easily reach into him and tug on his heartstrings like his.

When you whimper and tell him you’re close, it makes him feel so good. For an older man, he can still pleasure you. He grows confident in his movements and even reaches between you both to rub your clit. The sound of your voice is pure music to his ears, making him grunt.

Your walls clamp down around him, pulling him closer to his own release. He groans your name as he tries to warn you that he’s close. With a few more pumps of his hips, he spills deep inside of you. Tears stream down your cheeks again as you feel so loved. You hold onto him, rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head as he slumps against your breasts.

Torino looks away and hides his own tears. How could you make him feel so loved and appreciated? You shouldn’t be chasing this dream. He’s just an old man that could hold you back. You’re in the prime of your career. You should be with someone like Toshinori, closer in age and also in the prime of his career.

Sorahiko pulls out of you, watching as his cum dribbles out of your cute little hole. Without thinking, he pushes it back into you and kisses you deeply. He’s going to regret all of this in the morning when the fog settles, but right now he wants to just be as close to you as he can.

Tenderly, he cleans you up and he holds you in his arms. You nuzzle against his chest, looking up at him like he strung the stars in the sky just for you. Every time your eyes meet, he feels himself falling deeper in love with you. You, who pulled out all these damn feelings.

“Sleep now, pretty darling.”

His words and soft, sweet affections lull you to sleep. The smell of sex and his cologne permeate the air. You feel good in his embrace. For the first time, you feel so loved.

The next morning, you wake up cold and alone. The bed feels so empty without the man you lost your virginity to in it. You stretch out, trying to pretend that he’s here. You get up from the bed; all of your muscles aching from the lovemaking last night. With a heavy heart, you pull on your clothes.

You’re not expecting to find him in the kitchen. He hands you a glass of water and some painkillers.. All the softness and love from last night is gone. You feel like you’re encountering a stonewall. 

“You should go,” he says gruffly. “We don’t want the press to know about this.” You scoff, “I didn’t think you were someone who cared about that kind of stuff.”

He feels terrible for doing this, but if he severs the bond now, you won’t be too sad when he pushes you away inevitably. He tried his best to push all thoughts of Nana away, but dammit she’s all he can think about. Sorahiko thinks about that promise he made…the choice he and Nana had to make.

“Just get going, come on, kid.”

The word stings more than it should. You feel yourself shaking as you try to place the empty glass on the counter. Your own body defies you and you throw yourself at him desperately, but he pushes you away. You’re crying now, begging him to reconsider.

“Don’t do this to yourself, kid. Don’t torture yourself. Last night was just some fun. I was drunk and so were you.”

Your heart shatters when you listen to him. The way he had taken care of you had you thinking it was different. You realize now that you’ll never ever be able to hold a candle to Nana Shimura. You get up off your knees, dusting yourself off. He won’t look at you, but you can tell he’s crying too.

“Fine, it was just a night of fun. Don’t come to me when you need fun again.”

You grab your jacket and slam the door behind you. Sorahiko begins to cry and he holds his head in his hands. Nana was gone and you deserved so much better than this broken old man.

As the days go by, you realize that your little night of fun turned into something more. For more than ten months, you disappear from the public eye. When you return to hero work, the man you had fallen in love with has changed. Not only physically, but also emotionally.

And somewhere in the world, there’s a little girl with gray hair and dark eyes who wonders who her parents are. And perhaps she never will.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[fandom-lover2]

Big Wide World

Chapter One - I'm All In

All Might's daughter chooses to work beside him for the first year's work study week. Things can never seem to go right for either of his kids.

Word Count - 2036

-image not mine-

I wandered the halls, heading for the teacher’s lounge.

Why? I could always ask him about it tonight over dinner.

I didn’t actually expect to find him, but I turned a corner and there he was, with Izuku. Or rather, he was saying goodbye to Izuku. Broccoli past me with a smile, then passed a concerned glance behind him at my dad.

I followed his gaze, and noticed two things. One, he was hunched. Two, he was sweating. Nervous sweating. He only did this for one thing, one person.

“What did Grandpa say?”

He let out a sigh, slipping from his All Might form as he did. “He agreed.”

I laughed. 220cm of muscle and he was scared of an old man.

True, said old man could kick both our asses with his eyes closed, but it was funny watching my larger-than-life father become a teenager again.

Gran Torino reduced my father, and I was his beloved granddaughter. He had spoilt me endlessly in my youth, my father too afraid to say anything.

I should go visit him again soon. I hadn’t seen him since my first week at U.A, him rushing to the hospital to check on me after the attack at USJ.

He hadn’t even given my father a glance, his focus solely on me. He was all I had in the form of grandparents from my father’s side, his parents dying during his youth.

It would be interesting getting the stories from Izuku of what Grandpa had him doing.

Which was why I had been looking for my dad, the innocent sheet of paper in my hand burning my skin like sand paper.

I looked down at it, glared at the names present. Double sided actually.

“What’s that?” Dad asked, pushing off the wall. Was it really safe for him to be in this form while still in his uniform?

“Agencies who scouted me after the Sport’s Festival.”

I handed him the paper after he silently held out his hand in request. He scanned over the names, then turned the pages and read those. 213 agencies had sent the offer.

“This is impressive.” he murmured, handing the paper back to me.

I scoffed. “Yeah, if any of them were after me because of the skills I showed.”

It was true. All the offers, none of them were for me. They were for the name.

I saw my father look over at me, then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had Mic announce it so soon.”

I looked over at him, his guilt frown lines showing.

“No. I want people to know I’m yours.” I sighed this time, moving to lean beside him on the wall. “I knew it would happen. The criticism, the expectation, the… the popularity.”

As it was, I suddenly had second and third years greeting me in the halls like we were old friends. All to get to my father, hoping that if they become friends with me, my father will see their potential and give them a start in life.

Not to mention all the boys who were now getting close, the title of dating All Might’s daughter tempting.

At least no one in class was looking at me differently.

All these agencies, it was just the hopes of boosting their own scores by having All Might’s kid on their squad.

I didn’t regret my decision, but if I had known we would be doing work studies so early, I would have asked to hold the reveal to not be at the freaking Sports Festival.

Dad bumped his elbow into my shoulder, and I looked up at him.

“Who you going to?” He asked, jerking his chin to the paper in my hands.

“That’s what I need you for.” I looked over the names again.

He knew these people, had worked beside them. He knew who would help me best, and who wouldn’t be a good fit. Sure, Mr. Aizawa had said the teachers had gone through the offers, removed ones they didn’t believe would work. That still left 213 to choose from.

My eyes jumped back to the first agency on the list.

“I know what my answer would be if you weren’t teaching.”

I felt him hum beside me.

“I mean, getting to patrol beside you has been a dream since I was tiny.” I pushed off the wall, pacing before him. “Us together, on the streets. Finding the bad guys. Learning from you on the scene, not just through stories. We could fight side by side.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not teaching that week.”

My heart jumped, hope flickering in my chest.

“What?” I turned to him.

He smiled unsurely, watching me. “There’s no point being here if none of you are. And…” he trailed off, looking down at himself. “I don’t know how much longer I will be able to be All Might.”

He was right, and while that should have been saddening, all I could think about was saying we could patrol together.

“You’re serious?”

If he joking right now I’d hit him. He couldn’t be fucking around about something I had been dreaming of since I was 5.

He looked at me and smiled. “Of course.”

I jumped forward, used my stars to step up as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Thank you thank you thank you.” I squealed.

----

“Y/n.” he spoke softly, reaching down to gently nudge your shoulder.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

“Come on Kiddo. You gotta start getting ready.”

You whined again, rolling over and facing away from your father.

He smiled, amused by your antics.

“Don’t make me do it.” he warned in a sing-song tone, hands reaching evilly beneath the duvet.

 “Noo…” you groaned, weakly wiggling away from him.

He wouldn’t have to do this if you hadn’t slept through your alarm.

Not that he was complaining. It had been a while since he’d had the chance to wake you up.

It had always been so fun when you were a child, you pretending to be asleep just so he would do it.

Damn moody teenagers.

His fingers found their mark, reaching quickly to snap around your ankles before you could pull away.

“Daddy.” you wailed, muffled by the pillow as you halfheartedly tried to free yourself, half your mind still in sleep mode.

“You leave me no choice.” he concluded.

Swelling into his muscle form, your father tugged.

You yelped, then cursed.

Snatching you from the bed, your father gripped your ankles, holding you upside down.

“Good morning, My Starlight!” he cheered out, smiling down at you.

“Fuck off.” you moaned, closing your eyes again.

He didn’t doubt your ability to fall asleep like this. “Such foul language!” he chastised, no threat in the words.

“Learned from you.” you mumbled back.

Technically you had learned from your mother that particular word, but the Japanese version of it, yes that was him.

“I hope you won’t using it on patrol today.” he added, still holding you up.

 You let out an annoyed hum, and he waited.

There was the frown.

“Patrol?” you opened your eyes, and looked up at him.

He saw your eyes blink, your mind trying to catch up with what he was meaning.

Then, the stars in your eyes lit up.

“I’m your sidekick!” you remembered, beaming up at him.

Sidekick, not so much. Student joining him for the student work studies program for the week, yes.

He lowered you back onto your bed, which you promptly jumped off of and hugged him.

You smiled up at him, bright and happy. “I’m your sidekick. You’re stuck with me. You gotta put up with me, all daaaayyyy.” you sang.

“I don’t accept tardiness from my sidekicks.” he added.

You looked at the clock beside your bed. “Oh crap!”

Releasing your father, you rushed into the bathroom connecting to your bedroom.

Students who were placed with heroes far from their homes were supposed to be provided with accommodation by the heroes they were working with.

Toshinori had moved to be closer to Izuku and U.A last year, finding a small two-bedroom place that would be unassuming. Now, you both being needed at Might Tower, he’d moved back his old apartment. A large penthouse in Minato.

He’d always hated staying here when you weren’t home, the place too large for only him. Now, though he hated thinking it because what kind of parent does, he wished it was just a little bit bigger so he could get a break from you.

And the apartment in Musufatu? Even smaller.

He loved you more than anything, and the constant noise of you just being you was the best sound there was.

But there were times when the silence he had known for so long was missed, just a bit.

Your father busied himself with opening your curtains, letting the rising sun light your room, and laying out your hero suit on your bed which he made as you showered.

Then, he set about preparing you breakfast, and making you both lunch.

Was he spoiling you? Yes.

Was this whole thing about you learning to fend for yourself in the real world of heroism? Yes.

But you were his little baby, his Little One.

He never got to be this domestic, to make you lunch for school, wake you for school, rush through the morning routine.

You were smart, and already so independent. He knew you would be ok by yourself. You were already growing so fast, starting to do work studies, had a hero name picked out (It was a no brainer, you were his Starlight).

Just let him have these few moments to be a dad still.

You came into the kitchen just as he finished your bento, sitting to eat breakfast quickly.

Meal finished, dishes were left for when you got home and then you were pulling on your hero boots alongside him.

“It is ok to be nervous?” you spoke, pulling on your second boot.

He laughed, the sound a lot softer when in his true form. “Of course you can be nervous.”

“But I’m supposed to be brave.” you defended your reasoning.

“Brave isn’t the absence of fear. It’s overcoming it.”

“Ok Mufasa.”

He frowned mockingly, nudging you lightly. “You can be nervous.”

You were silent for a moment.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know if I’m more scared about embarrassing you, or being an embarrassment to you.”

He laughed, which he kind of felt bad for. He really shouldn’t have laughed, you were being serious. This was something serious that was bothering you, but it was honestly quite ridiculous.

You, embarrass him? Be an embarrassment? He hadn’t been more proud of you yet. 

Every day he grew more and more proud of you. Even when you spent the entire day in bed, he was proud of you.

Getting to stand beside you on the streets, hero and trainee, father and daughter, that made him unbelievably proud.

Today was the best day of this life, and you were worried about letting him down. His silly little girl.

“Look at me.”

You did, finally stopping retying your boot 3 times over.

“You’ve got this. I’m proud of you already.”

You smiled at him, but he could see in your eyes it hadn’t helped any. You were still nervous. You were still doubting yourself.

He sighed. There wasn’t anything he could do to take this away. His words could only do so much, his hugs only able to squeeze so tight. What was inside your mind he could not take away.

All he could do was prove you wrong. And in order to do that, he needed to get you out the door.

Kneeling down, he took your shoe strings into his hands and neatly tied a double knot.

“You aren’t going out there alone.” he reminded, standing and swelled up to his hero form. “So, let’s go out there and do our best!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the genuine smile as you stood too. “So cheesy.” All Might laughed, and opened the door. It was time to show the world his Starlight.

Commission Information

[nellarw95]

Happy Birthday Scott 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

March 21,1986

Buon Compleanno 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

21 Marzo 1986

[scary-grace]

PARIAH - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Shigaraki Tomura was buried three days ago, struck down at last by the affliction that’s haunted him all his life. Now, with muffled screams emanating from the graveyard and the same affliction striking down villagers left and right, the priest has ordered Shigaraki raised from the grave and put to death properly this time. It falls to Spinner, wracked with guilt over his best friend’s fate, to seek help from a monstrosity equal to the one that haunts Shigaraki — the witch who dwells in the darkest part of the forest. In other words, you.

Nosferatu AU, Spinner POV, 5k+ words. Vampires, wolves, and witches, oh my! If you like Gran Torino this is not the fic for you.

part i part ii

Not far now, Midoriya said the last time they stopped to catch their breath, but the woods seem to go on endlessly, and Spinner feels as though he’s been running for even longer. He’s no stranger to fleeing for his life. In one way and another he’s been doing it since he was born. But he’s never run for someone else’s life before. Never before has someone else’s survival hung in the balance of his heavy footsteps through the snow and the breaths of air so cold it sears his lungs. Spinner is the weakest of them, with the least to offer, closer to dead weight than a valuable ally. But in this moment, he’s the only one who can save Shigaraki’s life.

They came to this village six months ago, and for six months, life was quiet. The villagers were wary of strangers, of course, particularly strangers like Spinner and his friends, but for once, they all managed to keep their heads down. Toga made friends among the maidens in the village, while Twice made himself useful., and Dabi did them the favor of putting out fires rather than starting them. Spinner helped where he could, but mostly he watched Shigaraki. The evil that haunted Shigaraki had done so all his life, but it had only attempted a fatal strike when their backs were turned, and when they fled with the city in flames behind them, Spinner swore he would never allow such a thing to happen again.

Spinner kept a careful watch, but it didn’t matter. The affliction came again, weakening Shigaraki to the point where he could barely rise from his bed, and worse, it began to spread through the village. The villagers blamed Shigaraki and came to punish him, but they were too late. Spinner’s best friend died before his eyes three nights past, and the villagers buried him in an iron coffin before the sun could rise.

Or at least, Spinner had thought Shigaraki was dead. On the first day, he believed the muffled screams issuing from the graveyard were the manifestation of his own guilty conscience. But on the second day, the others heard them, too, and although the villagers believed they had locked away the source of the affliction, it continued to spread. The priest came to the graveyard, heard the screams, and ordered Shigaraki exhumed. Fool that he is, Spinner thought they meant to help him.

Then he and everyone else saw the ash stake in the priest’s hand, sharpened to a deadly point. It was an error to bury him whole, the priest said. This will quiet him forevermore.

They could not reason with him. No logic could overcome the priest’s certainty, nor the absolute faith the villagers had in him. It did not matter that Shigaraki had not left the house since falling ill. It did not matter that the coffin had been locked shut, nor that the surface above the grave was undisturbed. The priest and his followers buried Spinner’s best friend alive, and now they mean to dig him up and stake him through the heart.

Spinner hung back as Dabi and Toga and Twice argued. He’s worthless at arguing, just as he is at everything else, but as he stood at the edges of the conversation, someone caught his hand and drew him away. When Spinner looked down, he found Midoriya Izuku looking up at him. The strangest child in the village, known for daydreaming so vividly and so often that he falls into potholes at least twice a week, wore a determined look that shocked Spinner in its ferocity. You cannot stop the priest, he said. Only the witch can do that.

Every rural village has its superstitions, and this village has the witch – never seen, never spoken to, always blamed for blighted crops, missing livestock, and bouts of ill fortune. It is said that the witch is monstrous, raised by wolves and lies with them, too, an enemy of all that is holy. But when the affliction struck, not a single villager placed the blame on the witch. And when Midoriya Izuku spoke of her, he did so without fear.

He bade Spinner follow him, running across the bridge over the stream and down the sole path into the northern woods, and although Spinner questions the wisdom of challenging a mundane evil with a supernatural one, he has no other choice. He swore to protect Shigaraki, just as the others did, but he’s the one who failed. The witch will drive a hard bargain for her help, and Spinner will take it. What happens to Spinner doesn’t matter. Better by far that Shigaraki survives.

Not far now, Midoriya said, but each twist and turn in the path reveals only further twist and turns ahead. When Midoriya stops again to catch his breath, Spinner’s patience snaps. “There is no time. We must hurry.”

“The ground froze hard these past nights,” Midoriya gasps, “and they buried him deep. We have time. After this I will not need to stop again.”

“You had better not, or I will leave you here and find the witch myself.” Spinner says that, only to feel his nerves turn to water at the thought. “How do you know she will help?”

“I don’t know what she can do,” Midoriya says, and Spinner’s heart sinks further. “But I know that when the priest ordered me to kill a wolf-dog pup from my dog’s last litter, she came down from the woods to take it away.”

He straightens and picks up the pace, and Spinner chases after him, questions upon questions queued up on the tip of his tongue. “You’ve seen her?”

“Not – not really,” Midoriya admits as they careen around a corner. “She wore a veil over her face, and dressed all in white. But her voice sounded ordinary. Not as a monster’s voice should, or I think not. If she is not one, I have never heard a monster speak.”

Spinner has. It’s unmistakable – not just a hearing or a feeling, but a knowing, a terror beyond thought and reason. “I had to cross the bridge to bring her the pup,” Midoriya continues. “She would not cross to me, but when I gave it to her, she promised to raise it well.”

Spinner knew Midoriya was naïve, but this is ridiculous. “Did it not occur to you that she would lie? Monsters know only how to deceive.”

“She didn’t lie,” Midoriya says sharply. “I know when someone lies to me. She wouldn’t have hurt my pup. She –”

He stops talking, and stops running, too. Spinner fails to stop in time and bowls him over from the back, and as he picks himself up, he sees what caused Midoriya to balk. The path continues still further into the woods. But a wolf sits sentinel in the middle of it, blocking the way.

No, not a wolf. Spinner has seen wolves, more than his share of them, far more than he would have wished to. This is – “A wolf-dog?”

“Yes,” Midoriya says, his voice trembling with something like awe. “Mine.”

The wolf-dog’s ears prick upwards, and its tufted tail wags, scattering long-dead leaves away from the path. All at once it rises to its feet, turns, and lopes away, but only as far as the next bend in the path. There it turns and looks at them. Waits for them. “She wants us to follow,” Midoriya says, and he does so. Spinner follows, too, wondering who exactly Midoriya meant by she.

The wolf-dog keeps a brisk pace as the path, lined on either side with thick brambles, narrows such that Spinner and Midoriya must walk single-file. There are strange lights tucked away within them, emitting a pink glow that Spinner can classify neither as unholy nor divine. The wolf-dog rounds one turn in the path after another, and only when Spinner has thoroughly lost his sense of direction does it come to a stop. They’ve stopped at the edge of a large clearing, ringed in yet more of the odd pink lights. Within the clearing, there is a fence, its posts laden with wildflowers — the same flowers that climb the walls of the small cottage in the center.

It looks like something out of a children’s story. Not at all somewhere that a witch with the power to challenge the priest should live. Midoriya starts forward eagerly, and Spinner seizes his arm. “No. Even sweet things can be a trap.”

The wolf-dog noses the iron gate, and it swings open. “You want to save your friend, don’t you?” Midoriya asks. “She’s the only one who can help you. And you were wrong. She didn’t hurt my dog.”

Spinner is not at all convinced that it’s the same dog. It seems more likely the product of Midoriya’s wishful thinking. “I don’t like your friend,” Midoriya continues. “He frightens me, and everyone else. But he shouldn’t die for our fear. If you won’t go in, I will.”

Spinner is a coward. He knows he is. But even in his cowardice, he cannot allow this — a child taking the risk that belongs to him. He lets go of Midoriya’s arm and shoulders past him, past the wolf-dog, through the iron gate and along the path through the witch’s garden to the cottage’s front door. He knocks hard enough to bruise his knuckles. “Witch! I am here on a matter most urgent. Come out, or –”

“There’s no need to shout,” a perfectly ordinary voice says from behind him, and Spinner’s heart nearly stops in his chest. “I’m right here.”

Spinner wheels around, and there you are. There you have been sitting the entire time, concealed from view of the path behind your flower-entangled fence, dressed all in white just as Midoriya described and blending in with the snow. Just as Midoriya described, your face is veiled. All around you in the snow, wolf-dogs sit and sprawl, some ancient and grey-muzzled, others with the gangly clumsiness of pups. White roses are scattered around you, and even as you harken to Spinner, your fingers continue to weave them deftly into a crown.

“I thought I might have visitors today,” you say. “What are your names?”

“I don’t share my name with strangers,” Spinner growls, in the same moment as Midoriya blurts his out. “Shut up, you idiot!”

“The point of sharing names is to remove the designation of strangers,” you say mildly. Your veil is not quite opaque; Spinner sees your lips move beneath it. “I cannot blame you for your caution, but you mentioned an urgent matter. What brings you to my door?”

“The village,” Spinner says, biting down on the desire to curse its name. “It has been struck by –”

He runs out of words. He and the others have been careful in their description of it, for fear of being called insane. Even a village with such superstitions as witches is too skeptical to believe in – “Vampires,” Midoriya announces. He’s apparently abandoned caution; he’s crouched in the snow at the edge of the path, petting the wolf-dog he believes was his. “Each night more wake with bites, and not long after they fall desperately ill.”

“Are they drained of blood?” you ask. “Or is their skin simply rotting?”

“They haven’t been drained,” Midoriya says, frowning. “But the bites –”

“My friend was drained,” Spinner says, and you look to him. “He grew weak. He could not eat or drink, and visions tormented him at the end — or what we thought was the end –”

“They buried him,” you say, and Spinner nods. “But people continue to fall sick, and they believe your friend is the cause, so they intend to exhume him and put an end to him properly this time. Am I incorrect?”

Spinner can barely believe his ears. “How do you know?”

“Fear strips away reason. It comforts them to think that killing your friend will end their misery, and their desire for comfort only serves the greater threat.” Your hands work more quickly, plaiting the crown together. “You’ve come to me for help. What is it you wish me to do?”

“Stop the priest,” Spinner says. You tilt your head, studying him. “Prove my friend’s innocence.”

“That is within my power,” you say. You add a few more flowers to the crown, set it upon your head, and rise to your feet. “Is there time?”

“When we left they had already started digging,” Spinner says uselessly. “What price do you ask for your help?”

“None,” you say. You brush past Spinner, slipping into the house and emerging seconds later with a small satchel slung across your body. White deerskin with silver fastenings — not at all what Spinner would expect a forest-dwelling witch to possess. “We must travel with haste.”

“Yes. Have you horses?”

You shake your head, then raise one hand to your mouth and whistle, high and wavering. Within moments, Spinner hears the sound of heavy footfalls, and the shape that moves within the trees is so monstrously large that even Midoriya is scared up from the ground and closer to Spinner. “What is that thing?”

A wolf. Not a wolf-dog, but a true wolf, hulking and enormous, standing taller than Spinner at the shoulder. It dwarfs you as you approach it, but you approach without fear, and it lowers itself to the ground so you can speak quietly in its ear. You use no language Spinner can understand, but it is not the language of the demon, and in your ordinary voice it does little more than raise the hairs on the back of his neck. “This is a friend of mine, who has agreed to aid us,” you say, straightening up. You throw one leg over the wolf’s back and climb up, seating yourself just behind its head. “If time is as short as you say, it is not wise to hesitate.”

Spinner climbs up first, followed by Midoriya. “Keep low until we leave the trees behind,” you order, “and hang on.”

Midoriya promptly grabs hold of Spinner, but Spinner has no easy recourse. “To you? It’s not proper.”

“Would you rather be proper or survive the journey back to the village?” you ask impatiently, and Spinner secures his arms around your waist, his face miserably red. “Hold on.”

You whisper something else to the wolf, and it lurches into motion with such violence that Spinner tightens his grip in terror. He learns instantly why you ordered them to lower their heads — at the speed at which the wolf moves, a collision of their heads with a branch would result in decapitation. Spinner can’t watch the trees speeding past without feeling ill, so he shuts his eyes only to feel sicker. Opening them, keeping them fixed between your shoulder blades, is the only solution. That, and occupying his mind with something other than how inappropriate it is to hold you this closely.

You feel human. Spinner’s taken women in his arms before, human women of his own will and vampire women against it, and while the unholy attraction of the undead is absent from you, there is something undefinably strange about your presence. Perhaps all witches are thus. You have yet to do anything more witchlike than speak to wolves and live deep in the woods, and once again, Spinner begins to doubt. Who are you to challenge the priest, to counter the village’s faith in him? How could you save Shigaraki, when Dabi and Twice and Toga could not?

The wolf breaks through the tree line, and you sit up quickly. Spinner does the same, although it makes the ride significantly bumpier. Out of the woods, it’s easier to gauge the wolf’s true speed. It barrels down the hillside, as fast as any horse, and ignores the bridge in favor of leaping across the stream in a single bound. At the apex of its flight, Spinner feels you startle, then flinch, a sharp gasp exiting your lips. It’s as if you’ve been shot or stabbed, and for a moment, you go completely limp, your grip on the wolf’s mane relaxing. Only Spinner’s arms around you keep you from slipping sideways into the water – but then the wolf’s paws touch land, and you straighten up again. Spinner would think it his imagination if not for the audible catch in your breathing.

When the wolf reaches the graveyard, Spinner’s own breath catches in horror: Shigaraki’s coffin has been raised up from the earth, its lock shattered and its lid shoved aside. Between the coffin and the priest stand Toga and Dabi and Twice, and before Spinner can call out to tell them help has arrived, villagers seize his friends and drag them out of the way. The priest approaches, stake held high, and a shaking hand rises from the coffin in a weak attempt to forestall him. Shigaraki is alive, and awake – awake just in time for Spinner to watch him die.

“Wait,” he tries to call, but his voice shakes so badly that he can barely raise it above a whisper. “He isn’t –”

“Father Torino!” you call out, your voice strident and strong, and the priest stops in his tracks. He turns towards the sound of your voice and flinches as he beholds the wolf, and you and Spinner and Midoriya on its back. The villagers cower, and Dabi and the others seize the opportunity to get free and return to guard the casket — but they, too look wary. “Is it now the custom of the Church to murder innocent men by hand after burying them alive has failed to do the job?”

“This is no man, but an abomination,” the priest growls. He is a small man, and old, but neither matters when righteous fury animates him. “It is the custom of the Church to carry out God’s will and remove such things from the face of His earth.”

“If this man’s death is God’s will and not your own, then it can wait a few moments more.” You slide down easily from the wolf’s back and start forward across the graveyard, the villagers scattering from your path. “I will examine him, and prove his innocence or his guilt.”

The priest does not challenge your ability to do so, and a small measure of hope is turned loose in Spinner’s mind. He slides down from the wolf’s back as well, much less gracefully than you did, and seizes the back of Midoriya’s coat to prevent him from going face-first into the snow when he does the same. Ahead of him, you confront Dabi. “Stand aside. Let me see him.”

“What, so you can kill him?”

“Do you see a stake in my hands?” You spread them out, revealing them empty. Spinner notices for the first time the silver rings on your middle fingers, and the web of silver chains extending from them to connect to a matching bracelet around your wrist. “I only wish to examine him.”

“She can help,” Midoriya says, and Dabi’s eyes flicker to him. “Let her help.”

Dabi looks to Spinner. Spinner nods, and Dabi stands aside, allowing you to approach the coffin.

Spinner does the same, and what he sees fills him with a guilt so powerful that it nearly strikes him dead on the spot. As terrible as Shigaraki looked when they believed him dead, he looks worse now. Paler, sicker, more haunted than before. Blood stains his fingernails — what’s left of them, at least. Spinner imagines his best friend clawing at the lid of the iron coffin, desperate to get free, and nearly vomits at the thought.

Shigaraki is barely conscious, barely breathing, as you come close. Spinner was unsure of what to expect from you, but your first act strikes him as completely incongruous — you lift the crown of white roses from your head and settle it on Shigaraki’s. Shigaraki doesn’t stir, and on the other side of the coffin, the priest’s shoulders stiffen. “That proves nothing.”

“White roses are anathema to vampires. They teach you that in your book of demons,” you say. You unclasp one bracelet from around your wrist, slide one ring from your finger. “They speak of silver, too.”

You lift Shigaraki’s hand and slide the ring onto his finger. His hands are larger than yours, yet so skeletal that the ring fits easily. As does the bracelet, when you snap it shut. Once again, Shigaraki does not stir. The priest scoffs. “You expect me to believe that’s real silver?”

“I expect you to ask yourself what reason I among all others would have to collude with this affliction,” you say. You of all others? Spinner sees his confusion writ large on Toga’s face, on Dabi’s and on Twice’s. “But if it will satisfy you, I will ask someone else. Who here has something silver?”

It’s silent. Midoriya disappears into the crowd, then comes back pulling his mother. “Mother. Mother, show her — you have some –”

The woman clutches at her necklace, as though she expects you to rip it from her throat. “You will have it back unharmed,” you promise in that ordinary voice. Spinner no longer doubts that you are no monster; rather, you seem so human that he doubts your ability to help at all. “Either you will help to protect your village from a grave threat, or you will save an innocent man’s life. To save one life is to save the world entire.”

“Cease such pagan nonsense in my presence,” the priest snaps. “Even if he is no vampire, he has forfeited his right to life by bringing the affliction upon our village.”

You ignore him, and after a moment, so does Midoriya’s mother. She unclasps her necklace, and Midoriya places it in your hand. You hold it for a moment, then set it down in the hollow of Shigaraki’s throat. He does not move beyond the rise and fall of his chest. “Odd,” you remark. “A vampire should flinch from such things.”

The priest doesn’t answer. You gesture for Spinner to come closer, to stand alongside Dabi and the others. “Bite marks,” you say, and Spinner startles along with the rest of them. “Where were they?”

“He had many,” Toga says. She tended to Shigaraki most closely, and took his apparent death nearly as hard as Spinner did. “On his throat. His chest. Both wrists and ankles.”

“Were there others?” you ask. Toga shakes her head, and you raise your voice, addressing the crowd in the graveyard. “In the legends, a true vampire’s body bears no bite marks. The transformation erases them. Is it not so?”

The crowd mumbles assent, and Spinner wonders if this is why Midoriya insisted on summoning you. The priest’s frothing rage looks particularly mad when contrasted to your calmness. You look to the priest next. “Is it not so, Father Torino?”

“In tales and in history.” The priest speaks through gritted teeth. “Let us examine him. I — what are you doing?”

“My eyes must be clear,” you say, and you lift your veil.

Half the village recoils, but when you fold it back, Spinner sees nothing out of the ordinary about your face. There is no mad light in your eyes, no distorted sneer on your mouth, no dark magic writhing visibly beneath your skin. There is an odd pallor to you, but nothing more. You turn back to face the priest — the priest, who did not flinch. “Let us examine him.”

Shigaraki does not react to your touch, but when the priest reaches in to grasp his arm and haul his wrist into the light, he shrinks back. “You see?” the priest demands. “He recoils from a man of God –”

“A man who was about to drive a stake through his heart. I’d recoil, too.” You have Shigaraki’s other hand, holding it carefully, and you turn it to expose his wrist to the light. “Look, Father. Those resemble bite marks to me. And here –”

You lift the wrist that Shigaraki pulled away from the priest. “More bite marks. Just as the maiden said.”

Shigaraki’s mouth opens, and the voice that issues from it is hoarse from three days of screaming. “Spinner –”

Spinner hurries forward, and without a word, you shift your examinations to Shigaraki’s ankles. “I’m here,” Spinner tells Shigaraki. “I’m sorry.”

Shigaraki shakes his head. “What’s — happening?”

“Midoriya took me to see the witch. She came back with us to help.”

“Witch?” Shigaraki rasps. “Doesn’t sound like a witch.”

“Her voice is wrong,” Toga agrees quietly. “I don’t know what she is.”

“You do not need to know. She is unclean, and those who fear God should stay far from her and her accursed woods,” the priest says. “And you, Shigaraki — you fear death a great deal for a man who does not fear God.”

Shigaraki’s red eyes flutter shut. He seems to have exhausted his strength, and Spinner finds himself watching the rise and fall of Shigaraki’s chest, fixated on the smallest motions. He kept this same vigil before, three nights ago, dreading every new second until the motion stuttered and stopped — or rather continued, so imperceptibly that everyone believed him dead. Whether you’re a witch or not, you are an effective counter to the priest, but what happens after you spare Shigaraki’s life? His affliction will not fade, and the evil that stalks him will not relent. Has Spinner saved Shigaraki’s life only to consign him to a slow, agonizing death?

Spinner’s thoughts are interrupted when your hand appears in his field of vision, parting the buttons on Shigaraki’s shirt to expose the bite marks directly over his heart. The priest grasps Shigaraki’s jaw and turns his head roughly to one side, revealing the bite marks on his throat as well.

Spinner remembers the first time he beheld the evidence of Shigaraki’s affliction. Shigaraki had kept it from them as long as possible, but one by one, they saw things that could not be explained, heard things in the night that could not be dismissed. They knew too much to find safety in ignorance, but they could not protect themselves if they did not know the truth, and so Shigaraki shared what he knew of the evil that had clung to him since childhood. They doubted him at first, but he must have expected it. Spinner will never forget the shiver of disgust that tore through him at the sight of the marks on Shigaraki’s throat – and how it grew ever worse with each set of marks he revealed.

The reminder alone of what Shigaraki suffers fills Spinner with disgust. He cannot imagine experiencing it and surviving with his mind intact, and yet Shigaraki has survived. And he will survive this, too. Faced with all the evidence you have revealed, the priest cannot kill Shigaraki now.

“Are you satisfied?” you ask, when the priest fails to respond. “This man is not the source of the affliction. He is its victim, as much as any of the others who have fallen ill.”

“Perhaps,” the priest says – and he raises his stake. “I’d rather be sure.”

Before he can bring it down, you seize it. Dabi does the same, and so does Spinner, while Toga and Twice throw themselves across the coffin to shield Shigaraki. “Careful,” you say to the priest. Your grip tightens, and Spinner feels the fire-hardened stake buckle slightly. “If you kill this man now, it will be murder, and your list of sins is not so short as to allow for the addition of one more.”

It’s a long moment before the priest releases the stake, and when he does, it splinters to pieces. Perhaps it was Dabi’s grip that shattered it; your hand is too small. “If you wish to save him, begone with him,” the priest says. “He is barred from the village until his affliction is cured. If it can be cured.”

Spinner’s heart sinks, but once again, you remain calm. “I will cure it,” you say. “I will take him with me, if he will go.”

“No,” Twice says at once. “He stays with us.”

“Let her take him,” Midoriya’s mother urges. Spinner thought she would have fled, but then again, her silver necklace still rests against Shigaraki’s throat. “The others will come for him tonight, and kill you to get to him, no matter what the priest says. It is safer to let him go.”

“We should come with him,” Toga says. You shake your head. “Why not?”

“The forest is unkind at night. I cannot shield your minds and heal his at the same time.” You look regretful, and ill at ease. “Stay here for the night, and visit in the morning. My friends will guide you to me.”

The wolves and wolf-dogs. Spinner remembers the rumor that you were raised by them, that you lay with them, and feels a surge of distaste — not for you, but for those who would start such rumors and spread them. “It’s Shigaraki’s choice,” he says. He looks down into the coffin at Shigaraki, at his pale face and bloody hands, swathed in silver with a crown of flowers on his head. “Do you wish to go with her?”

“Spinner.” Shigaraki’s voice is little more than a whisper. Spinner leans close. “Can she do as she promises?”

There seems to be nothing magical about you at all. Spinner doubts you can do anything — but he does not doubt that Shigaraki will be safer in the heart of the forest tonight than anywhere else. He nods. “I can’t face him tonight. Not like this,” Shigaraki says. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” the priest says. His disgust is etched deeply into his wrinkled face, and as he transfers his gaze from Shigaraki to you, it only grows. “As the filthy beast you rode in on has fled, I have no idea how you expect to remove him from my sight. Do you honestly think someone will lend you a horse?”

“I have no need of one.” You nudge Spinner to one side and lift the necklace up from Shigaraki’s throat, handing it back to Midoriya’s mother. Then you lift one of Shigaraki’s arms, looping it around your neck, and he expends what appears to be his last measure of strength to lift up the other. “I can walk.”

You can’t mean to carry him. Even half dead, half-starved, Shigaraki is bigger than you are. But as Spinner watches in horrified fascination, you slide one hand behind his best friend’s head and the other beneath his bent knees, and you lift Shigaraki from the coffin as though he weighs nothing at all.

Shigaraki slumps against your shoulder, barely conscious once more, and the crowd of villagers parts before you again. Your voice, still ordinary, carries not even a hint of strain when you speak to Spinner. “Come visit at first light,” you say. “No harm will come to him while he is with me.”

Dabi’s hand comes down on your shoulder, just as Toga grasps your elbow. “Swear it.”

You incline your head, and Spinner sees a web of faint scars across your brow. “I swear it by my blood.”

You set off walking at an easy pace, as though you aren’t carrying a grown man in your arms the way a lord might carry a maiden. Dabi’s voice is low in Spinner’s ear. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Her kind don’t do favors,” Twice says. “What did you give her?”

“Nothing,” Spinner says. “She took nothing.”

“Except Tomura,” Toga says grimly. “In the morning we’ll take him back.”

“Damn right,” Twice says, ignoring the look the priest gives him. “We’ve tried everything but witches to heal him. Maybe she will fix him.”

“What’s wrong with him isn’t inside. It’s out there somewhere,” Dabi says. “Whatever she fixes, it won’t last.”

Dabi’s right, as much as it burns Spinner to admit it. All Spinner’s done in retrieving the witch is buy Shigaraki a little more time. One night where the villagers can’t come for him, howling for his blood the same way the evil that stalks him lusts for it. Spinner’s best friend has spent so many nights in misery and pain. If the best Spinner can do is secure for Shigaraki one night of relative peace, he’d have paid all you asked for and more.

But you asked for nothing. Spinner watches you approach the bridge, still walking smoothly with Shigaraki cradled in your arms, and wonders why.

part ii ->

[heli-writes]

Between then and now, Part 2.

Part 2: The known in the unknown

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Summary: When a whirlwind affair between you and All Might was found out by his manager, it was made sure that no one ever knew about you or your relationship with All Might. Even twenty years later, Toshinori Yagi still thinks of you. His retirement leaves him lonely in a cold city apartment and he wonders what could’ve been. Maybe it’s time to rekindle? But is that what you want?

Disclaimers: -

Note: I finally found some time to work on this!

Heli’s Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The present day, Japan.

It feels weird walking the streets of your hometown again. It's been so long since you've been here. The city changed a lot since you've been wandering around these streets with your friends. While everything seems familiar, most things also feel unknown.

You wander the streets that once were so familiar to you. The TV store where you used to watch the latest hero news after school with your friends has been replaced with a multimedia store. The kiosk, where you and your brother bought sour candy and picture cards hoping to pull a Gran Torino or a Crimson Riot, is also long gone. However, there are some places that are still the same. There's still the library where you and your girls studied hard for your entrance exams to get into university. It's also where you had your first kiss, just behind the business administration section. 

Of course, the old university building is still the same. You can't remember how many tears of stress you've shed here and of course tears of joy on your graduation day. That's also where you've met All Might for the first time. He was invited as a guest of honor and had to give a speech to all the graduates. Similar to you who had to give a speech since you graduated summa cum laude. You remember of nervous you were that day.

*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

Dear comrades-in-arms, teachers and parents, Today we celebrate the success of a new generation and the bright future... the bright future...

You keep mumbling to yourself going through your cards over and over again. You're sitting behind the stage you have to go on in a few minutes. You groan frustratedly. No matter how well you know the speech you've written, there is no way you will deliver it successfully. First of all, you're not a motivational speaker and second of all, you are way too nervous.

 „My, my, someone's nervous!“, a booming voice says right behind you and you jump up in your seat. 

When you turn around, you're met with the largest man you've ever seen. Of course, you know who he is. All might, an upcoming hero. He made quite the name for himself, especially during his time in America. The girls in your semester fawn over his good looks. Upon closer inspection, you think he looks quite silly. You mean that grin will haunt you in your nightmares. And what...

 „What's up with your hair?“, you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

All Might's creepy smile disappears for a second and he looks stunned but as quickly as it disappears, as quickly it returns. It seriously gives you IT-clown vibes.

 „Whatever do you mean? Do you not like my hair, dear citizen?“, he asks you in his perfect-practiced hero voice. You think he sounds fake.

„Uhm, no, I don't.“, you tell him. Again, you don't really think when you answer him.

Now, All Might is taken aback.

 „Oh, really? I-i mean you don't find it flashy?“, he says in his normal voice. You're surprised at how timid and soft-spoken he sounds.

 „No.“, you tell him with a pointed look.

 „Oh, well, alright. That's a first.“, he mumbles.

You turn fully towards him. You look up at him crossing your arms.

 „Really? No one told you before that it looks like the antennae of an insect? You know, like a cockroach?“, you explain bluntly.

All Might stares at you stunned for a few seconds before starting to laugh. It's not his booming hero laugh, but an honest one. You think it suits him better than the laugh you've heard on TV.

 „You sure are an honest one.“, he tells you wiping the side of his eye.

You shrug. „Should I be dishonest instead? Sounds like a villain's trait.“, you point out. All Might gives you that pretty laugh again. 

„I suppose that's true.“, he agrees with you.

There's a moment of silence. Suddenly, the speaker on stage announces you and your speech. Surprisingly, you don't feel nervous anymore. It's probably because you don't have to go on stage with a cockroach hairstyle. Your hair is perfectly styled by the hairstylist your father paid for. 

 „Break a leg.“, All Might encourages you and gives you two thumbs-up. You give him a smile before going on stage and delivering your speech.

Your speech went well that day. Your parents were proud of you and your mother even cried a little. After the formal celebration and dinner with your family, you celebrate with your friends. Needless to say, all of you are absolutely plastered by the end of the night.

That might be the reason you don't remember much about All Might's speech. Something about being a hero in your own story or so. 

What you do remember is the way he laughs when he finds something truly funny.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

You smile fondly at the memory. You've been so deep in thought that you didn't notice how far your legs have taken you. You shake your head trying to push the thoughts out of your head and to gain a sense of reality. Right, food!, you tell yourself.

It's been so long since you've been here last, you don't really know where a supermarket is. A quick Google search later, you're finally on your way with a fixed destiny. Luckily, the city's big and so there are plenty of stores to choose from. 

You end up getting more things than you initially planned. Having to get all the essentials from salt to butter, your bags are stuffed full. You drag them with you, trying to find the fastest way home. Unfortunately for you, the streets you once knew like the back of your hand faded in your memory. While you were confident that you'd find your way back home without Google Maps, you're not so sure anymore. Actually, you're lost.

Since the bags are getting heavy on your shoulders, you decide to find a bench to sit down for a moment. Maybe also check the map to see where you should actually be heading. Eventually, you find a map and plop down with a heavy groan. Your back isn't what it used to be. You're still denying it but you can't help but notice little things about your body that changed. Your back is one thing.

Once you've caught your breath, you realize what's in front of you. You ended up in a little square and in the middle of the square, there is a giant golden All Might statue. You almost burst out laughing. I forgot they have these in Japan. They really do worship him, you think to yourself. It's really comical to you. How the people of Japan look up to him like he's a god that became human. It's probably you know that he is in fact very human.

In contrast to everybody else, you know what his hair looked like in the morning. You know how the skin on top of hot milk makes him gag. How he laughs at his own burps. How his face looks like when he's intimate with someone. You know how he cries.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty years ago, Japan.

 „Y-y/n... I don't know what to say.“

You stare past his face. You look at the rising sun behind the skyline that can be seen from Tashinor's apartment. You can't look at him. Tears are already about to spill out of your eyes. You know there's no stopping if you look at him now. 

You feel his large hand brushing your arm. „Say something.“, he begs. You can hear his own tears in his voice.

You feel the water in your eyes overflowing. Quickly you turn around so that he doesn't see. „What do you want me to say? We've argued all night. I think everything has been said.“, you point out.

There's silence behind you. You can hear him sigh. Now he's probably brushing his hand over his face. He always does this when he's stressed or upset.

 „I love you.“, he says quietly. You let out a choked laugh.

 „Not enough, apparently.“, you tell him. It drips in a harsh bitterness that's rarely in your mouth.

 „Don't be like that.“, Toshinoris says pointedly. He almost sounds annoyed. It makes you angry. You twirl around.

 „Like what? Hurt?“, you say sharply. You don't mean to attack him. You don't mean to start arguing again. You've been at it all night. Both of you know that there is no room for conversation anymore. However, no one is ready to let it rest. Because you probably know that the decision's made and if you go now, nothing will ever be the same anymore. To keep arguing right now is to keep holding on for a little while longer.

 „I don't want to hurt you.“, he says quietly. You sigh. You look at him defeatedly. 

 „I know.“, you whisper back at him. He takes a step closer to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

 „I know no words I can say can make it better. You're right. I hurt you. I choose my career over you. I know it's unfair and cruel of me but you also need to understand that my hands are tied. I can't back out now. I've come too far and too many people rely on me.“, he tells you.

You press your face into his chest. You don't want to hear this. You know this. There is no need to repeat it again.

 „Hey, look at me.“, Toshinori says and puts his index finger under your chin making you raise your head. You look at him with teary eyes. His heart aches to see you like this.

The two of you have been sneaking around for almost a year now. Given the nature of his job, he's never been one for serious, long-term relationships. This is the longest he's ever been with someone before. His mind is made up but it doesn't mean he's happy about it.

He loves you, he really does. It's like he didn't realize just how much he loves you until he was about to end it. Kanno's been putting pressure on him ever since finding out and after you've been almost caught by paparazzi last week, he knows it's time.

Gently, he brushes his hand through your hair. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss onto your forehead. You feel yourself melt against him. It's like you can't stay angry at him. He pushes his hand deeper into your hair, scratching the skin lightly. Meanwhile, he pushes your chin further up and meets your lips in a soaring kiss.

You kiss each other hungrily. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Toshinori's neck. Toshinori's hand wanders down to your hip and pulls it against his own. You almost groan into the kiss. 

You need to stop. This won't be good for either of you. You try pushing him away but he's bigger and stronger than you and his lips are so, so soft on yours. It won't take long until you give in to him. You always do. 

It's probably why you also gave into continuing to work for him in America. That and the prospect of someday. That someday you can transfer back to Japan. That someday, when the buzz around him slows down and he can come back to you.

It's just that that day never came.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Your eyes still get glossy when you think about that night. Embarrassed, you wipe ferociously at your eyes. How silly, you haven't seen that man in twenty years. You don't even know what kind of person he is today. 

Of course, you've seen the fight at Kamino Ward. Actually, because of the time difference you didn't see it live. You saw the news after you had woken up and then spent the next hour in front of your screen. You were late for work that morning.

It was heartbreaking to watch. You remember being shocked to see him like that on your phone in the dusk light of your bedroom. It was what everybody talked about at the office that day. Everybody was shocked. People were worried about the security and stability of Japan. Meanwhile, you were worried about the man you once loved.

You assumed Toshinori eventually would have to retire. Eventually, everyone gets old. You're surprised that he held onto his job for as long as he did. He did have some brutal fights during his career, they must've left some permanent damage.

You take a deep sigh. It's ridiculous how nostalgic this city makes you feel. It's been only one morning, you keep drifting off indulging in reminiscences. Suddenly, your stomach rumbles. Right, of course, that's why you went out in the first place. Also, you probably should get your groceries into a fridge soon.

Quickly, you look at your phone figuring out your route back home. You see Takeo sent you a message with a picture but you decide to open it once you're home. You just hope he didn't manage to burn down his dorm already.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Japan, the same day.

After a longer way home than anticipated, you finally make it back. After a hearty meal, you finally check your son's message. It's a picture of him and his new roommate setting up a picnic on campus. You're sure they keep the alcohol bottles out of sight. You have to laugh and roll your eyes. You remember how it was for you to move into your first apartment. Unlike your son, you moved out of your parents' home only after you graduated from uni. You've missed out on a lot of things because of that. You've never had a roommate and your parents rarely let you go out to party. 

You send your son a selfie of yourself in the middle of cardboxes to which he only responds 'Get to work, mom! ;)'. You sigh deeply and lock your phone. He's right, you need to tackle these boxes. Your new job starts on Monday and by then you'd like to be settled into your new home. 

You start with the kitchen boxes first. In your head, they're the easiest to unpack. The layout of the kitchen kind of already tells you what goes where. You already dread the junk boxes in which all kinds of stuff are that have no real place. Considering your limited furniture, those will be the hardest to tidy up. 

You try to get around these boxes by unpacking the bedroom and bathroom boxes next. You take your time with your clothes. You've already sorted through your clothes before you got here and you got rid of a great amount of them. You gave some old clothes you don't wear anymore to the charity shop. However, there are some clothes you can't get rid of. Like the T-shirt you gave birth into. Or that old blazer you wore to your interview at All Might's hero agency. 

You can't help but to try on these random clothes. Before you know it you're standing in sweatpants, Takeo's birth T-shirt and the old blazer in front of your mirror. You almost laugh at how ridiculous that combination looks on you. Carefully, you stroke over the black fabric of your blazer thinking back to your interview that changed the course of your life.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

 „So, Miss l/n, what would you say is your biggest weakness?“

Nervously, you shift in your seat. You really don't know how you ended up in this seat. Looking back at it, it was probably an act of rebellion. After your graduation, your father secured a job for you at his company. He didn't even bother to ask you whether or not you wanted to work for him. It made you mad. You tried to talk to him but he always just brushed you off. 

 Since he never gave you a real job offer and you never really accepted a job at his company or signed a contract, you took matters into your own hands. You applied to many different companies. Having a business administration degree, it was open to you in what kind of area and what kind of company you wanted to work for. You don't really know what you want to do with your life. So far, your life has been presented to you. Everything was planned and followed through. It's the first time in your life, you're deciding where things are going.

That being said, you applied to All Might's hero agency just because you could. You didn't really expect to hear back from them. Hundreds of well-educated people from Japan and abroad must've applied for this position. Then again, it was only an interview. One you didn't really prepare for since you did not take this application that seriously anyway.

„Miss l/n?“, the interviewer in front of you asks again.

You're ripped out of your thoughts. 

„E-excuse me, I've been thinking about an appropriate answer.“, you tell them. You take a deep breath.

„In all honesty, I probably have a lot of weaknesses. I'm a perfectionist. I can't drop a project until it's not only done but done perfectly. That can be time-consuming and sometimes I get lost in details. I'm also a people pleaser. I don't like having conflict with others so I always try to avoid it or try to mediate if I get involved in it against my will.“, you tell the three interviewers in front of you.

The interviewers quickly scribble something in their notes. You're trying not to stare at their papers. You really want to know what they're writing down about you.

 „Would you say that, despite these weaknesses, you're still able to stand your ground and make your opinion heard?“, the other interviewer asks.

 „Well, it sure doesn't come naturally to me. However, I grew up in a family of businessmen. You learn from an early age to stay your ground.“, you tell them.

The third interviewer goes through your application portfolio.

 „Right... you wrote that your father works in finances. I actually do recognize your name...“, the interviewer trails off. The other two take a look at your portfolio as well and exchange knowing looks.

You shift in your seat. You hoped this wouldn't come up. You wanted to get your first job due to your own skills and the impressions you leave behind. Not because of your family.

Luckily the interviewers don't dwell on this for long and continue with their standardized interview questions. You're glad when they're finally done. When they let you go and call in another candidate, the others, that are still waiting for their interview, start bombarding you with questions.

 „How was it?“, „What kind of questions did they ask?“, „Is All Might there too?“

Your head is still swirling from the interview, so you give them some half-assed answers. Quickly you stumble towards the elevator and press the button energetically. The moment the doors open, you quickly scramble inside. You start going through your back trying to find your deodorant. You've sweat so much, other people must smell you from five meters away.

 „Exciting day today?“, a voice says behind you.

Oh no. No. No. You must be kidding me!, you think to yourself. You turn around in slow motion and there he is. Standing in front of you in full size. He's a lot bigger than you remember.

 „A-all Might...“, you stutter.

 „Oh... wait! I never forget a face. We met before, didn't we?“, he says cheerily.

You feel cold sweat drip down your neck. Oh hell no, your potential new boss can't possibly remember the last time you saw him. You feel absolutely mortified. Meanwhile, All Might crooks his head and stares at you intensely.

 „Oh, you must be mista-...“, you start but get interrupted by the much larger hero. He snaps his fingers and his eyes light up in recognition.

 „Now, I know! You're the one who called me a cockroach!“, he says triumphantly. He grins and seems to be very pleased by the fact that he remembers you.

At the same time, you're face falls. Your mouth hangs open. Apparently, this is happening.

 „I did not!!“, you exclaim before you can find a polite way to tell him he must confuse you with someone.

All Might snaps his fingers again and gives you another grin.

 „So, it is you!“, he booms. You feel your face heat up.

 „Sir, with all due respect, I did not call you a cockroach!“, you defend yourself. You really didn't.

 „Oh, right, just my hair.“, he contemplates.

You're not sure what to say at that. He's right. You did say that. But to be fair it was during a very vulnerable moment. Your face must look like a tomato by now.

 „I'm very sorry if that offended you. I didn't mean it in a demeaning way.“, you try to save your neck.

 „So cockroaches are a good thing?“, he teases you. You think about that for a moment.

 „W-well, they sure are a success of evolution. I mean nothing can kill these guys. So, in a way, they are like you...“, you trail off. 

All Might gawks at you and you realize what you just said. Now you actually compared him to a cockroach.

 „Y-you know, because no villain can defeat you...“, you add a bit more quiet. You look at your shoes embarrassedly. I guess there goes any chance of getting that job, you think.

Then, All Might lets out that gorgeous laugh again that you remember. And he can't seem to stop laughing. Embarrassed, you stand next to him. You're even more embarrassed when the elevator door opens again and one of the interviewers is standing in front of you. 

You shrink under the man's gaze while All Might tries to catch his breath. 

 „All Might, has this woman been bothering you? I can assure you, we can exclude her from the ongoing applicant selection.“, the man says cooly.

All Might wipes the side of his face and turns to you. „You applied for the assistant position?“, he asks you. You can only nod at that. He turns back to the interviewer.

 „Hire her, Kanno-san!“

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Eventually, you put your clothes away and start tackling those junk boxes that you've been avoiding all day. You manage to find a place for most things. Also, you christen your new junk drawer by shoving all things you don't find a new place for in said drawer.

Most of the boxes are empty now. You fold them and put them into the hallway so you can take them out tomorrow. The only boxes left now are the boxes filled with pictures. Carefully, you open the box. There are some picture frames you still need to hang on the wall. There's Takeo on his first day of kindergarten. There's you and Takeo under a Christmas tree in your house in America. And there's Takeo and you just a few months ago when he graduated high school. 

Takeo graduated at the age of nineteen. He's been held back a year because his English was too bad. At least that's what his teachers told you. Of course, you spoke Japanese with him at home but you don't think that was the reason he was held back. The truth is that Takeo was a sensitive child. It didn't help that he was born without a quirk. It was an invitation to others to pick on him.

You remember that he cried a lot during his first year in school. Other children's quirks manifested already in kindergarten. During the first year of primary school, he still held onto hope that his quirk would present eventually. Still, he already got dubbed quirkless. He also was the only Asian kid in class. And the only kid with a single working mother. You got lucky and found a job quite fast after quitting All Might's agency. However, it required you to move to a suburban area. A lot of the other mothers lead a more traditional life with being married and having multiple kids. Also, most of them were white. So, similar to your son, you didn't make many friends.

People respected you since you had a job at a well-respected hero agency. You also tried to get involved in the local community. But it was hard to bond with the other women over mac and cheese and the Superbowl barbeque when you don't really care for American football or food that you never ate before coming to the USA.

It was hard on your son too. He tried to fit in. Tried to play with the other kids. However, he couldn't keep up with them when they had quirk competition or went to the park throwing baseballs with their dads.

It probably was during that first year of primary school when Takeo asked for the first time where his dad was because „I must have one“, as he put it. Of course, you knew this question would eventually come. However, you still weren't prepared. You gave him a speech on how sometimes things don't work out the way you want them to and that you're still very happy to be his mom.

Back then, that was enough. The conversation came up a couple of times later. Especially during his early teen years, these talks became more heated. Partly that was your fault because you gave only very vague answers about your son's origin. However, as he grew up, he must've accepted it or understood that his father's absence was not your choice.

After you've put up the picture frames, you send Takeo another picture of your now neat apartment. In response, he sends a picture of his dorm room which already looks like a mess. You roll your eyes before putting your phone away again. 

Only then you notice how the sun already started to set. You sigh before getting up and cook yourself some dinner. 

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan, the other side of Musutafu.

Instant Ramen, once again. 

Toshinori pours the hot water into the plastic pot. He really shouldn't eat this stuff anymore. Ever since his stomach injury, he has trouble digesting processed food. He can't help it though. He never learned how to cook healthy food for himself. And these days he's too tired to make anything else than something quick and easy. Toshinori sets a five-minute-timer before plopping down on his couch.

Staring at the ceiling, he massages his temples. It still feels unreal to him how quickly his body deteriorated. Only a couple of years ago, he handled a full schedule with no problems. Now, a mere day at school wears him down like this. He stares at the ceiling until the timer goes off. 

He eats his ramen cup in front of the TV show. There aren't any shows that really interest him so he keeps skipping channels. After his dinner, he grades a few more papers and then goes to bed. Before the light's off, he scrolls through his phone a bit. With his private account, he follows young Midoriya. He likes a post of him and his classmates having a movie night in the dorms. He thinks back to his own school days. He remembers already being so focused on his hero career in High School that he only had a few friends during his time at school. The only time he truly enjoyed his youth was during his time in America. David introduced him to college life and made sure that Toshinori visited his fair share of frat parties.

Sometimes he wonders what it would've been like if he met you back then. When he wasn't already an established figure in the hero society. When he was just Toshinori most of the time. He could've gotten to know you as himself. It's not that you never got to know the real Toshinori. You did. Sometimes he thinks that you're the only one who got to know the real him after Shimura-sensei.

He closes social media and puts his phone on his nightstand. He turns on his uninjured side to sleep but he feels restless. After a couple of minutes, he gives up. It's something you always used to scold him for. „You're too impatient, Toshi. You need to give your body and mind to calm down a bit after a long day.“, you probably would say. 

Toshinori gets up and walks over to his balcony. He pushes the sliding door open and takes in a breath of fresh night air. He steps outside barefoot. That's another thing y/n would scold me for, he thinks. He walks over to the railing. A soft breeze lifts up his shirt and he peers down the balcony into the dark void beneath. Only a few streetlights illuminate the empty street below. He leans back again and watches the skyline in front of him. 

He remembers all the nights he couldn't sleep before. After a long villain fight when the adrenaline in his veins kept him from sleeping. Or after a big media event when his brain overflowed with impressions and thoughts and he just couldn't find any rest. There were nights that were easier to handle and those that were not. The easier ones usually were connected to you.

Part of him wished you were here right now. Joining him on the balcony only a few minutes after he slid out of bed. Wrapping your delicate arms around him from the back. Leaning your face against his back, softly whispering: „What's on your mind, Toshi?“.

He runs a hand through his hair. What is on his mind? He's not sure. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today. And yet, he feels so restless. Maybe it's because he's not used to this. This... calmness. All his life, there always was something. Even when there was nothing, he was on call just waiting for something to happen. And it always did. Now there really is nothing. No emergencies, no villains to fight, no nothing. Well, actually, that was all still happening but it's not like he could do anything about it. Not in his quirkless state. Which sucks even more. Seeing all the fights and emergencies on TV and not being able to do anything about it. 

Toshinori shivers. It's getting cold outside and he's only wearing a thin pyjama. He takes a last look at the illuminated city before slipping back inside. Pulling on the curtains, he blends out the city and its villains, heroes and all emergencies that are not his responsibility anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @heilene @w3bfr34k @bucinyohei @imagineshazamlokimight @dovey-quacks2332 @l-bozo-l @puppyteeth1994 @genyawritesshizz @luubzz @plantedskies @nerdygothzippermuffin @pluechy @

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[20001541]

AFO Ship Opinion Results

57 responses total, thank you to everyone who participated!

-

What do you headcanon AFO's sexuality as?

Straight: 4

Gay: 2

Bisexual: 12

Pansexual: 16

Asexual: 13

Other: 10

Responses to other

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AFO x Ujiko

the average is 5

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AFO x All Might

the average is 5

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AFO x Inko

the average is 7

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AFO x Gigantomachia

the average is 5

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AFO x Kotaro

the average is 4

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AFO x Hawks

the average is 3

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AFO x Endeavor

the average is 3

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AFO x Kurogiri

the average is 2

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AFO x Lady Nagant

the average is 2

Note: it says 56 here because I forgot to make this questioned required to answer so someone ended up skipping it as a result. I apologize

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AFO x Star and Stripe

the average is 2

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AFO x Gran Torino

the average is 5

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AFO x Nana

the average is 4

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AFO x Spinner

the average is 1

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AFO x Destro

the average is 4

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AFO x Kudou

the average is 3

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AFO x Midnight

the average is 1

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AFO x Mr. Compress

the average is 2

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AFO x Nighteye

the average is 2

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AFO x AFO

the average is 8

.....

AFO Ships Ranking

AFO x AFO with an average of 8

2. AFO x Inko with an average of 7

3. AFO x Ujiko, All Might, Gigantomachia, Gran Torino with an average of 5

4. AFO x Kotaro, Nana with an average of 4

5. AFO x Hawks, Endeavor,Kudou with an average of 3

6. AFO x Kurogiri, Lady Nagant, Star and Stripe, Mr. Compress, Night eye with an average of 2

7. AFO x Midnight, Spinner with an average of 1

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Are there any AFO ships that are considered problematic that you enjoy?

Majority said no

.....

Responses

Note: Yes, I know I all AFO ships are technically problematic, mainly just wanted to ask how many shipped people like Yoichi and Tomura with him without someone jumping down my throat and attacking for including it. Already had an anon be weird towards me about that stuff before in the past so thats why I asked this this way. But I fully see why people were confused lol.

Honestly several months later idc anymore and I still feel curious enough to know what people think of these ships so if anyone wants to do a poll asking about what people think of afotomu, afoyoichi, and afodeku send me an ask and I'll do it.

-

Feel free to tell me more about why you like or dislike certain AFO ships and mention any ships that you enjoy that I failed to include here if you want

Note: My editing program on my phone kept messing up so I just gave up and left it at that. Wanted all of them to have pictures. Already addressed about the problematic thing in the question above. But there's small community of afomidnight shippers on twt, even seen some fanart of it thats why it was included, AFOtomu is one of the bigger AFO ships though I agree.

-

Anyways thank you to all who participated in this. So sorry this took forever to post, as I said before I did have it finished the first week the survey closed but Tumblr decided to delete the original post when I tried to queue it, forcing me to start over from scratch and then my old computer broke, so I had to redo all the screenshots and find the averages of all of them again. Plus other stuff that happened in my personal life. Incredibly frustrating! But didn't want to leave you all hanging forever so here it is now :(

If you find any mistakes let me know! Love y'all 😚

[imagineanime2022]

Heroes With An S/O W/ Powers Like Hawkwoman

Keigo Takami X Fem!Reader, Toshinori Yagi X Fem!Reader, Shota Aizawa X Fem!Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello everything is fine? I saw that requests are open! I would like to know if you can write headcanons for bnha (hawks, all might and aizawa) with a s/o who is a professional heroine and is like hawkwoman from dc? (she has super strength, speed because of her wings, resistance, etc.)

Keigo Takami

🪶 Alright let’s be honest there is going to be a lot of bird behaviour from this individual, lucky you're both derived from hawks so you understand each others behaviours pretty well. 🪶 Keigo is forever puffing up his feathers when you first met, making himself look bigger and more suitable, it did catch your attention by nature. 🪶 Miriko made fun of him every time. 🪶 Hawks by nature mate for life, so when he decided that he was in, he was 100% in, there was nothing that could change his mind. 🪶 He’d spend a lot of time measuring wings and wrapping his wings around you, you’d do the same to him and sometimes you’d make a cocoon just for the two of you by having your wings meet in the middle. 🪶 He sings all the time, another bird thing but if you ever sing along with him, it will make him the happiest person in the world. 🪶 You guys go for flights all the time, he’d dive low to grab you anything that caught his or your eye. 🪶 You guys were two of the fastest heroes, you learned to work together covering whatever the other couldn’t and that became even more needed after his fight with Dabi. 🪶 You massaged his shoulders when he was healing, you helped him to get back up but he never stopped missing his wings. 🪶 You refused to fly without him and you were the one that helped him to relearn how to fly when he got his prosthetics. 🪶 You both have heightened senses so he’d often give you his shirts or blankets so that you would always feel him near (even if he was rarely more than 2 steps away). 🪶 You were a hero couple that was feared by villains and loved by civilians but neither of you cared about that. The only thing that was important is how much you loved each other.

Yagi Toshinori

🦸 The moment that Toshinori saw you he was enamoured, honestly he’d have seen your wings and the speed and strength that you displayed. 🦸 Challenged you to races all the time, he wanted to be the fastest but he had to admit that you had him in that department. 🦸 Toshi was playful and he had yet to be able to sneak up on you either so he tried that too, but given your enhanced senses, you could hear and smell him coming when you couldn’t see the flashy costume. 🦸 When you guys actually started dating it was a secret to no one, it was lucky that you were as good at defending yourself as you were because there were just as many villains as fans trying to get your attention. 🦸 Toshi came very close to ending the relationship when a villain came after you to get to him, you had to tell him that you weren’t having it and literally slapped him round the back of his head to get him to listen. 🦸 Toshi would literally carry you anywhere the extra weight from your wings didn’t bother him at all but he did love being wrapped in them when you both had the time. 🦸 Gran Torino would sometimes enlist you to get Toshinori to do something because you both knew that it was better for him. 🦸 You were the only one that could get him to sit still after he was injured by One For All. 🦸 Toshi spent all of this time bringing you presents, anything that you could ever want, even things you didn’t know you wanted like kids (Midorya and Bakugo). 🦸 Now with his smaller stature he loved your wings even more, he hid in them when he didn’t want to be seen, made sure that they were groomed and taken care of. 🦸 Toshi made sure that you always laid on top of him, even after he was injured (much to your protest) because he would not have you lay on your wings no matter how many times you tell him that you can support your own weight. 🦸 Definition of a celebrity couple, you guys were what everyone strived to be, happy together, playful, easy and completely dedicated to each other.

Shota Aizawa

🐛 Shota was probably the last person that anyone expected you to take an interest in but after one mission he couldn’t seem to get rid of you and to be honest he didn’t mind having you around. 🐛 You were the one that did most of the work, just trying to get him to look at you for more than a second but once he really looked he was a goner. 🐛 You used your wings to shield him from the sunlight while he was sleeping during the day or the cold in the winter. 🐛 Shota is a mindful human and often found himself dancing around you in the first few months of your relationship, making sure not to touch your wings and apologising when he did, it took a long while to convince him that it was okay. 🐛 The first time that you asked him to help with grooming your wings, you thought he was going to faint. 🐛 He teaches you how to use a capture weapons and you taught him how to use your weapons. He took to yours faster than you took to his. He's unbelievably adaptable but he admired the strength and agility that came with your power. 🐛 You were well into your relationship by the time that 1-A came along, so a lot of them knew of you but they didn’t know that you were dating/married to their teacher until the first villain attack when you made yourself known. 🐛 Neither of you had ever talked about having children but you ended up with 20 the day that you saved them. 🐛 You moved into the dorms with Aizawa and basically mothered the entire class, scolded them, praised them and protected them no matter what. Aizawa loved watching you with them. 🐛 When he brought Eri back, you both became her sworn protectors and he didn’t even have to ask when he put you both down as her legal guardians. 🐛 While Shota was teaching you were out doing hero work so when it came time to fight you were always called on and he always worried about you while you were gone. 🐛 You were a large mismatched family but it centred around the two of you, anyone could see that you loved each other and protect your little flock.

Request Here!!

[deusvervewrites]

Grandpa Torino X Maybe I’m Perfect X Expelled:

Izuku: have you ever met Gran Torino?

Aizawa, confused: …no?

Izuku: you mean not yet.

All Might, in the background: *nervous sweating*

Gran Torino is rapidly approaching your position

[thelreads]

Since this Arc is Officially Over and it's been a while since I last did this, how about a Status Update?

Heroes:

Team Endeavour:

No. 1 Endeavour: Alive. Known Abuser.

No.3 Best Jeanist: Alive.

No. 10 Ryuku: Alive.

No. 222 Manual: Alive

Lemillion(Mirio): Alive. Quirk Rewind.

Deku(Izuku): Alive.

Great Explosion Murder God DynaMight(Katsuki): Alive

Shoto: Alive

Nejire: Alive

Ingenium(Iida): Alive

Rock Lock: Alive

Eraser Head(Aizawa): Alive. Amputated Leg.

Gran Torino: Status Pending.

Hospital Raid:

No. 5 Mirko: Alive

No. 6 Crust: DEAD

No. 8 Wash: Alive

No. 411 Mandalay: M.I.A.

No. 411 Pixie-Bob: Alive

No. 411 Tiger: M.I.A.

Backdraft: M.I.A.

Kesagiriman: M.I.A.

Takeshita: M.I.A.

Uwabami: M.I.A.

Ectoplasam: M.I.A.

Thirteen: Alive

Present Mic(Hizashi): Alive

Snipe: M.I.A.

ExLess: DEAD

Body Strength: M.I.A.

Sabre: M.I.A.

Unnamed Hero 1: DEAD

Unnamed Hero 2: DEAD

Omina: M.I.A.

Native: DEAD

Kido: M.I.A.

Mr Brave: M.I.A.

Mansion Raid:

No. 2 Hawks: Alive. Known Murderer/Government Agent.

No. 4 Edgeshot: Alive.

No. 7 Kamui Woods: M.I.A.

No. 9 Yoroi Musha: M.I.A.

No. 12 Gang Orca: M.I.A.

No. 13 Shishido: M.I.A.

No. 23 Mt. Lady: Alive

No. 58 Fat Gum: M.I.A.

Fourth Kind: Alive

Selkie: M.I.A.

Cementoss: Status Pending/Presumed DEAD

Midnight: DEAD

Ms. Joke: M.I.A.

Tsukuyomi(Tokoyami): Alive

Suneater(Tamaki): M.I.A.

Unnamed Snakeman Hero: DEAD

Majestic: DEAD

Mansion Raid Student Team:

Invisible Girl (Toru): Alive

Battle Fist (Kendo): Alive

Emily (Reiko): Alive

Tiger King: Alive

Can't Stop Twinkling (Aoyama): Alive

Cellophane (Sero): Alive

Creati (Momo): Alive

EarphoneJack (Kyoka): Alive

Grape Juice (Mineta): Alive

Pinky (Mina): Alive

Red Riot (Kirishima): Alive

Sugarman (Sato): Alive

Tailman (Ojiro): Alive

Tentacole (Shoji): Alive

Gevaudan (Shishida): Alive

Lizardy (Setsuna): Alive

Mines (Shoda): Alive

Real Steel (Tetsux4): Alive

Vantablack (Kuroiro): Alive

Vine (Ibara ): Alive

Mudman (Honenuki): Alive

Shemage (Komori): Alive

Chargebolt (Kaminari): Alive

Evacuation Team:

Burnin: Alive

Anima (Koda): Alive

Froppy (Tsuyu): Alive

Uravity (Uraraka): Alive

Comicman (Manga): Alive

Funkman: DEAD

Others:

Ragdoll (Tomoko): Quirkless

Mei Hatsume: Location NA

Hitoshi Shinso: Location NA

Death Arms: Alive

All Might (Toshinori Yagi): Retired

Eri: Alive

Vlad King: Location NA

Pony/Monoma/Awase/Kaibara/Kamakiri/Kodai/Tsuburaba/Bondo/Rin: Location NA

Hound Dog: Location NA

Nezu: Alive

Gale Force (Inasa): Location NA

Maboromicamie (Camie): Location NA

Sisicross (Shishikura): Location NA

Kurogiri (Shirakumo): Jail

Stain: Jail

AFO: Alive X2. One is in Jail. The Other is piloting a different body

Overhaul (Chisaki): Jail

Daikaku Miyagi: Alive

Nana Shimura: Still dead

Traitor: Unknown

Villains

Team HandMan:

Tomura Shigaraki(Tenko Shimura): Alive. Possessed

Dabi (Touya Todoroki): Alive. Somehow acquired new hair dye

Compress (Sako): Captured

GigantoMachia: Captured

Toga: Alive. M.I.A.

Spinner: Alive

Skeptic: Alive

Near High Ends: 3 Dead. 7 Alive

Other Villains:

Re-Destro: Captured

Doctor: Captured

Trumpet: Captured

Giran: Alive

“Woman” High End: DEAD

Buu High End: DEAD

Robot High End: DEAD

Elephant High End: DEAD

Chungus Nomu: DEAD

John Chan: DEAD

Mocha: DEAD

Black Tactics Squad:

Twice(Jin): DEAD

Violet Guerrilla Warfare Squad:

Geten: Captured

Carmine Intelligence Squad:

Slidin Go: Captured

Brown Support Squad:

Scar Head: Captured

In Memoriam

Villains:

Johnny 222-261

Mocha 261-261

“Woman” High End 221-269

Buu High End 261-271

Robot High End 261-262

Elephant High End 261-271

Chungus Nomu 261-271

Twice 77-266

Heroes:

Midnight 3-278

X-Less 86-271

Majestic 263-283

Crust 184-271

Snakeman 259-266

Blonde Woman Hero 259-283

Native 50-283

Skull Dragon: 34-296

Death Arms Side Kick 259-273

Bald Monk 258-271 or 272

Black Helmet 272-272

Robot Armour Hero 272-272

FunkMan 274-274

Other nameless heroes

i cant believe i actually typed all that shit out. fucking hell why did i do this to myself? smh

You didn't need to but you did it anyway, for our sake, and for that we're grateful. That's why you're part of the pantheon of top personalities in this blog.

And now, we take a moment of silence for the fallen ones

[class1akids]

What do you think of Nana as a character?

She was really intriguing for me when she was introduced in the Kamino fight. I thought that reveal was a great twist and couldn't wait to find more out about her.

But in the end, I have to say, her character just didn't add up very well for me. She's another one of the "buff, pretty women" who people really love for their design (Nagant, Star, Nana, Mirko), but their characterization relies on a lot of tropes and "cool factor" and remains pretty shallow.

The bits and pieces we get from Nana just feel like a lot of wasted potential instead of really digging into an important theme of the story - the pain caused by self-sacrifice for the people left behind.

She is kind of a contradictory person: she tries to hide her son to protect him and cut him off from the hero world but at the same time she burdens another child - All Might - with OFA and the fight against AFO, but leaves him with at least some support. Gran Torino supporting Toshinori helps him rise and her forbidding GT to look after Kotaro is a factor in his spiral.

Hero Nana feels like all the tropes of "badass woman hero": she grins at AFO in her death, talking about how All Might will take him down, also telling a young Toshinori to keep smiling because that's what makes him "strong". And ironically, that smile to Tomura becomes the symbol of everything he hates about hero society, pretending not to see the suffering they cause or simply ignore.

Hero Nana seems like someone who successfully compartmentalized Mother Nana and shut her inside a box when she gave up her son for adoption and seems to have severed that part of herself until the end. The feelings of guilt only come after she sees what Tomura has become.

Vestige Nana with her "testing of Izuku" and "can you kill Tomura - oh I was just kidding" is also tropey as hell. I would have preferred some real introspection, or at least some good interaction with Izuku about the moral dilemma of what to do about Tomura, but Horikoshi is not great with that when it comes to female characters.

So in the end, she is just kind of a crying mess of a vestige, flip-flopping on Tomura's fate. I'd like to say that her finally taking responsibility moved me, but it being between two dead people in vestige land, just doesn't carry the same weight to me (like as opposed to Rei running into the fire).

I always say that Horikoshi is mostly a visual storyteller, and he knows exactly the stuff 99% of his audience wants. I'm in the minority and I actively dislike when I feel like he's trying to manipulate me with sentimental visuals instead of solid storytelling (like last week's episode of Anya x Damien in MHA).

But at least the way he used Nana wasn't too bad - even if it had to be really spelled out for her that leaving her son behind like that was kind of bad for him - hugging and stopping Dreamland Kotaro is stepping up both as mother and hero - reuniting her two halves. She couldn't get through the barrier until she reintegrates the mother into the hero and becomes the hero to save her family. And she is the final piece to help Izuku get through. Thank you. I get the theme. It's about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

I guess it's a decent cap for a character who embodies a key theme. But I think she could have been fleshed out (not just drawing her in a lot of detail), but in actual character nuance and storytelling (things like how she met En, why did she take OFA, her state of mind after losing her husband, etc.)

On another note, it would be nice if this was finally the end of the vestige peanut gallery (I absolutely came to hate their parts in the final fight), but considering Yoichi and Vestige Might just seemed to have gone poof, unfortunately, I wouldn't be surprised to see again all of them.

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinky Business

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, somnophilia, exhibition, age play, marking, biting, oral sex(fem receiving), pain kink, power play, d/s dynamics, lewd content, kink exploration word count: 1.3k pairings: multi but separate MHA characters(Nana, Sorahiko, Shouta, Hizashi, Nemuri and Dabi) x Fem!Reader a/n: part two coming soon! Hope you enjoy my last post of 2024!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

Nana is obsessed with power dynamics. She wants to feel like she’s in charge, but she won’t go overboard with her own strength.

She loves to make you feel safe and loved, all while pushing your limits in terms of pleasure and overstimulation.

If you cry and beg and squirm, it’ll only serve to turn her on even more than she was to begin with.

Nana Shimura…who’s obsessed with POWER PLAY kinks. She wants to feel like she’s the one in control. She presses her breasts in your face, making you suckle on her nipples. She wants to sit on your face, while holding your wrists down. Don’t worry, there’s always a safe word in place. Even while on a date, you can expect Nana to make the choices for you. She loves it when you wear something revealing so that she can show you off a bit. Call her “mommy” and she might actually lose it. She wants to manhandle you as much as possible, mark you up so you know who you belong to.

You wouldn’t guess it, but the man has a biting fetish. He loves to mark you up. He enjoys seeing the teeth marks embedded in your soft skin.

He’s one for hickies too. Deep, red marks…bordering on purple a lot of the time. It’s just something he can’t stop himself from doing sometimes.

Please let him mark you up in places only you and him will see. It’s like a little secret you two share. It turns him on like nothing else to strip you and to see those beautiful marks he left the last time.

Sorahiko Torino…who’s obsessed with MARKING you up. He revels in the fact that only HE can bite you. He loves nothing more than pounding into you and biting down on your breasts. He nibbles your tits a lot, biting and sucking on the supple flesh. If he’s in public with you, Torino enjoys pulling you close and leaving a fresh hickey on your neck. He wants to make sure everyone knows that you belong to him and only him. You’re regularly covered in dark, red spots. He likes to leave bruises too, where he can press soft kisses.

The man enjoys his down time and he enjoys being able to sleep. What’s better than just sleeping? Having a cuddlefuck session where he can be balls deep and just cuddle.

In his sleeping bag, you both fit and he’s able to make you feel so good while being comfortable with you. He usually loves to shove his hand down your pants and finger you while snuggling in the sleeping bag.

What gets him going is that sometimes you two do this while others could be around. Hizashi and Nemuri could be lurking about, but really they have no idea what’s going on.

Shouta Aizawa…who’s obsessed with CUDDLEFUCKING. He loves holding you close, pushing into you from behind. His warm breath on your neck as he pants and whimpers about how fucking good you feel. You’re always so damn tight and so warm. Sometimes it just lulls him back to sleep, especially if he’s doing this first thing after he wakes up. In fact, this is one of his favorite things to do to wake up. Being balls deep inside of you after consciousness returns and he shakes the dreams away is the best part of his day.

Hizashi knows how to use his quirk to his advantage whenever he goes down on you. It’s a little party trick he picked up while in his hook up phase and he’s never looked back since.

Your cunt just tastes so fucking good. Your clit is so easy to suckle on. And when he starts to hum and amplifies it to vibrate, it drives you crazy.

You’ve definitely squirted a lot this way. Hizashi was very happy to figure out that he could make you feel this way the first time it happened. Now you’ve always got towels ready to lay out on the bed.

Hizashi Yamada…who’s obsessed with ORAL SEX. He enjoys giving a little more than receiving, only because he knows what you like and he can use his quirk to his advantage. Talk about voice kink too, considering he can turn you on just with his dirty talk. And he’ll eagerly pull that out anytime and any place too. Think you’re going to have a normal, innocent day? Guess again! Hizashi’s in your ear, whispering about how he’s going to take you home, have you spread out on the sheets and to feast on you. His tongue is always so warm, so wet. And then when he suckles on your clit and pulls out that special move, it makes you go crazy.

Nemuri loves that you’ll indulge in her fantasies. She enjoys being able to use her quirk on you and that you completely trust her as well. It makes her happy that you two have such a wonderful love.

You play the sleeping beauty part so well too. That quirk of hers is powerful, but you two have found a way to make you just sleepy and not completely passed out. With this, she uses sensory play on you and makes you so unbelievably horny.

And of course, somnophilia is a very big kink in your relationship. You find it a lot of fun to just allow your lover to take over while you’re in such a vulnerable position.

Nemuri Kayama…who’s obsessed with SOMNOPHILIA. She enjoys putting you under her spell, making you fall asleep. Then she lovingly begins to kiss you all over. Her hands are always so soft as she takes off your clothes. Anything to make you feel comfortable. You two play around with sensory play too, especially whenever you’re in more of a sleepy state. She’s been able to figure out how to use her quirk just right so that you’re not completely asleep, and this is when she loves to tease you. Her warm breath on your wet pussy has you whimpering so cutely. Her fingers gently spread your folds as she leans in to savor your taste.

Dabi is very much into playing around with risks. He wants to have fun whenever and wherever he can. It doesn’t matter if there are others around, he’s going to love fooling around with you anyway.

The more risk involved, the hotter things are for Dabi. He gets excited to try new things. And with his pain tolerance being so high, he can have fun with you trying painful things on him.

Bite him, tug on his nipples, flick the head of his cock while hard. He’s gonna be so aroused to have you doing these things to him. But also, he’ll flip it around and test your pain tolerance as well.

Touya Todoroki/Dabi…who’s obsessed with RISKS. He loves to take risks when it comes to sex. He loves being able to make you feel good, even if someone is around and could spot you. It makes him hard whenever you give him that look, the one that says “please play with me”. He’s also big on anything with pain, considering his pain tolerance is very high and he basically can’t even feel pain. Dabi’s the kind of man who will pin you against a wall and shove his hands up your shirt to play with your tits while he makes out with you. Doesn’t matter who’s around. He desperately wants you to tug on his hair, or to bite his lower lip. And if you dare tug on his balls ever so slightly while sucking him off, he won’t last long. Just the thought of pain makes him aroused, but be prepared to take it as well.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[my-rewrite-academia]

How do you plan on tackling the Sports Festival and its aftermath? Cause a lot of people really seem to forget that this public sporting event is literally broadcasting the legal names and identities of the students to the world…and no villain tries to take advantage of that?

Hello!

-

Yeah, in canon, the only thing that actually matters is that the League sees Bakugou chained, and all that jazz. Honestly, it made it feel like a waste of an arc, especially when All Might was all, "this is your chance to tell the world that you are here."

Even if Izuku got first place and wasn't seen as dangerous/reckless, he would still end up with Gran Torino, no doubt.

So, yeah. As much as I love the Sports Festival Arc, it felt wasted all the same. Especially when it could have been done indoors and nothing would change - Yuuga easily could have just reported Bakugou to the League, and Shouto would still get his moment, as would Ochako.

As for what I have planned: first and foremost, I won't be spoiling anything, as it's best experienced as part of the story, when everything builds up to it.

Something I'm fine with spoiling is this: it will not be released or streamed to the general public. I didn't like how first year students, who have barely learned anything, were suddenly expected to show off in front of all of Japan, as well as x-many heroes.

Instead, it will be limited to only heroes and family. The second and third year sports festivals are being broadcast, but that won't become relevant until 1-A experience that.

Some arcs explored will be different, especially since I plan to give 1-B more screen time and Bakugou isn't allowed to engage in combat with others. Plus, Shinsou's whole character needs to be called out.

One more thing: hero names will be decided before the Sports Festival, and those names will be announced - not the real names. I also believed it was a bad idea to refer to them by their real names, especially when U.A. is popular enough to have enemies.

Hope this helps!

-

Thanks for the ask!

[scary-grace]

PARIAH (part 2) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Shigaraki Tomura was buried three days ago, struck down at last by the affliction that’s haunted him all his life. Now, with muffled screams emanating from the graveyard and the same affliction striking down villagers left and right, the priest has ordered Shigaraki raised from the grave and put to death properly this time. It falls to Spinner, wracked with guilt over his best friend’s fate, to seek help from a monstrosity equal to the one that haunts Shigaraki — the witch who dwells in the darkest part of the forest. In other words, you.

Nosferatu AU, multi-POV, 10k+ words. Vampires, wolves, and witches, oh my! All the typical warnings one might expect for a fic about vampires. If you like Gran Torino this is not the fic for you.

part i

part ii

Shigaraki has been carried like this only twice in living memory. Once by his caretaker, when he fell asleep while hiding under the table in the vast, unused dining room at Sensei’s estate, and once by Sensei, when he – Shigaraki cringes from the memory, his skin crawling, and although the motion should destabilize your grip on him and send you both sprawling, you simply adjust your hold and keep walking. There’s nothing for Shigaraki to do but settle back into your arms and try to keep still.

It’s not difficult. He’s drained in more ways than one, his mind as exhausted as his body is depleted, and somewhere in the recesses of his consciousness, he’s seething over the simple fact of his own continued existence. It is as the priest said: He fears death. But there is a possibility, once remote but growing stronger by the day, that he would rather die than continue to breathe in the miasma of revulsion and terror that’s surrounded him for as long as he can remember.

You claimed you could heal him. Shigaraki would laugh if his vocal cords weren’t frayed into near-nothingness. But your capability in that regard matters much less than your ability to take him away from the village, even for a night. The priest was correct about something else, amidst all his other ravings: Shigaraki did bring the affliction. It followed him here, and if it does not find him in the village, it will seek him elsewhere. If it should find him with you, then only one person will die rather than dozens. Shigaraki should warn you of what you’ve done.

Shigaraki will. Before the sun goes down. Shigaraki tilts his head against your shoulder and shuts his eyes.

Your stride hasn’t broken since you lifted Shigaraki from the coffin, but in the center of the bridge, you come to a sudden halt. You flinch as though you’ve taken a blow, exhale sharply as though the breath’s been driven from your lungs, and a split second later, you’re on your knees, still cradling Shigaraki in your arms.

He expected your strength to give out, but not so suddenly as this. He swallows a few times, his mouth as dry as a withered corpse, and speaks. “Set me down.”

“I’ll only have to pick you up again.”

“You have exhausted yourself,” Shigaraki says, and you manage a strained sound that might be a scoff. “Set me down. I’ll walk.”

“If I set you down, you could barely stand. I fear your heart could not handle the strain. And I promised your friends you would be healthy enough for visitors by morning.” Your breathing is shallow as you force yourself back to your feet. “It will pass.”

You cross the bridge without stumbling again, your steps quick and short. It makes for a bumpy ride, but not a dangerous one. Shigaraki’s senses are well-attuned to danger. He senses no danger from you.

None from you, but as you step past the edge of the woods and the shadows fall over Shigaraki’s face, he realizes there is danger aplenty. He forces his eyes open and sees the dark shapes moving within the trees, hears them snarl and whine, and worse, he smells them, the dank, overpowering scent of raw meat and wet fur. “Wolves,” he says in a voice that shakes humiliatingly, and he tries to squirm free of you. “They belong to him –”

“Nothing of his dwells here,” you say. “These are wolf-dogs and dire-wolves, the former beneath his notice and the latter above his will. They are free.”

“You are not their master?”

“I am master over nothing,” you say. Your voice carries no hint of Sensei’s commands, and still you broke the priest’s control over the crowd. Still you command a pack of wolves, all of whom are now milling around you, prodding Shigaraki with their snouts. “If they frighten you too greatly, they will depart. If not, we’ll reach my home more quickly if you ride.”

“Ride what?”

No sooner have the words left Shigaraki’s mouth than the answer slips from between the trees – a dire-wolf, larger than any beast Sensei ever summoned. You speak softly to it, in a language unlike any that ever issued from Sensei’s jagged mouth, and the wolf lies down before you. In a single moment, Shigaraki’s boosted onto its back, and the wolf lopes off into the trees, the pack of wolf-dogs following and you running easily at its side. What are you? As his fevered mind struggles with the question, he slips into a daze.

When Shigaraki’s awareness returns, you’re carrying him again, through a garden and into a small house with flowers climbing the walls. White flowers. Roses, like the crown you placed on Shigaraki’s head. A large table sits in the center of the room, more akin to an altar than anything else. The only reason Shigaraki doesn’t recoil from it is that it’s quite obviously used for other purposes. You take your meals there, and attend to your sewing. Scrolls are scattered here and there, some still bound and some unrolled, and a few books sit open, pages marked with ribbons.

You set Shigaraki at the edge of the table while you sweep it clear with one arm, and Shigaraki keeps his head up long enough to see that your strange pallor has been replaced by an awkward flush. “I expected visitors today. Not a houseguest.”

Shigaraki lies back on the table, his head coming to rest against a pillow you’ve placed there. Now that none of his remaining shreds of strength are devoted to keeping himself upright, he can think a little more clearly. “What led you to expect visitors?”

“I heard the bells ringing, and the air smells of decay. When the Church cannot adequately explain the villagers’ suffering, they come to me.”

The house is lit by an odd pink glow. Shigaraki looks around for the source and finds dozens of rough pink stones, hollowed out to accommodate a candle within them. A memory flickers through his head – Sensei’s study, candles melted into sulfur ingots, the smoke, the smell. “Your lights. What are they?”

“Salt,” you say. Shigaraki blinks. “A form of rock salt, found in the highest mountains in the world.”

Salt. Shigaraki remembers scattering it across the threshold to his room, along the windowsill, in a ring around his bed. “It won’t keep him out.”

“No, but it will slow him down,” you say. Shigaraki knows that. Sensei was never more displeased than when he had to navigate Shigaraki’s feeble attempts to keep him out. “If he wishes to enter here, he will pay for every step.”

So you aren’t unaware of what sheltering Shigaraki will mean for you. “He’ll come for me. You know that.”

“He will come for you no matter how far you run.” Your voice is matter-of-fact, empty of fear or doubt. “Do you know why?”

“Does he need a reason?” Shigaraki closes his eyes. “He is nothing but an appetite. An emptiness. A – a lust.”

“He does not need a reason, but he has one,” you say. Shigaraki waits for you to answer, his skin already beginning to crawl with humiliation. “I asked your friend, but it occurred to me that she might not know. Are the six bites she described the only ones you suffered?”

The humiliation grows worse. Shigaraki raises one leaden hand with an effort and scratches at the unbitten side of his neck, but nothing can relieve the discomfort. “What makes you think there is a seventh?”

“Because it would explain why he pursues you so relentlessly,” you say. “You need not show me. Just tell me where it is.”

Shigaraki has to show you. If he has to force the words out of his mouth, his tongue will rot from beneath them. He turns his head away, as if that will help, and lowers his hand to his thigh. To indicate the correct spot, he must part his legs, and his body revolts. His mind flatly refuses to address the memory. It remains locked away, along with so much else, but his body will never forget what it survived.

“I see,” you say, and Shigaraki yanks his hand away. “He has greater plans for you than just as his victim. He intends you to be his successor.”

A jagged laugh claws its way out of Tomura’s throat. “You are mistaken.”

“I spoke incorrectly. You are meant to be his host,” you say, and even Tomura’s humorless laughter fades. “Vampires who are not slain die when their bodies rot away to expose their spirits, but the Old Ones may escape that fate – so long as they can transfer their spirits into a new form. The number of bites, and their precise placement, are ritualistic. They tell me that he intends your body to be his spirit’s new home.”

Sensei always told Tomura that he was special, that he was unique, that he was important. Like a fool, Tomura believed him. Even as Sensei’s instruction grew more invasive, more unsettling, Tomura clung to those words – important, unique, special, words no one had ever used to describe him before. In his father’s house, before Sensei found him, Tomura was an embarrassment. He wanted to be special, to be unique. He would have settled for important.

It took confronting the hollowness of Sensei’s words for Tomura to break free, to confide in others, to escape. But he knows that Sensei doesn’t lie, and that’s how he knows you’re right. Tomura is unique, is special, is important. So important that Sensei plans to claim him completely, leaving him nowhere – not his own body, not his own mind – to escape.

Tomura’s silence reveals too much. “If that was his purpose, why afflict me so?”

“The others rot from the wounds he inflicts. He consumes their bodies, but takes only your blood,” you say. Tomura forces his eyes open and sees you with your back turned, mixing something together in a cup. It’s a fool’s errand on your part; he can neither eat nor drink. “In order to claim a new body with ease, that body must be empty – of hope, of anger, of any will to fight back. What he does is cruelty in its purest form, but he does not act only for cruelty’s sake. He would rather break your spirit ahead of time than face it when he claims your body.”

Your voice softens. “I imagine he has been greatly vexed by you.”

Tomura laughs, and it tastes bitter on his tongue. “He finds my resistance amusing.”

“Once, perhaps,” you say. Tomura sees a flash of silver – a knife-blade, raised high for a split second before you draw it across your forearm. “No more.”

You shift, shielding Tomura from the sight of blood oozing from your arm, but it’s never been the sight of blood that torments him. It’s always the smell, and he can picture all too easily what you’re doing. “I won’t drink that.”

“There is no harm my blood can do that has not already been done,” you say. Your voice is remarkably steady for someone who just took a knife to her arm. “It is likely that your body will reject anything else, and it’s important that you swallow the medicine.”

“Medicine for what?” Tomura asks warily.

“I said I could cure your affliction. What else?”

You turn to face Tomura, the wound on your forearm bandaged and a cup balanced in your hand. Tomura hesitates. You’ve given him little reason to distrust you thus far. You seem to grasp the situation Tomura and his friends are in. But Tomura has made the mistake of trusting blindly before. He lets you help him to a seated position and lift the crown of flowers off his head. Then you offer the cup.

“No,” Tomura says. “If I am to drink your blood, I want to know what you are.”

If Tomura were not half out of his mind from three days in an iron coffin, he would be able to figure it out for himself. You know a great deal about vampires, and you have knowledge of Sensei’s plans beyond what even Tomura possessed. You commune with wolf-dogs and dire-wolves, but not the true wolves that Sensei controls. You have no trouble walking in sunlight, no trouble with the weapons often wielded against vampires, but you have strength and speed disproportionate to your size. You carried Tomura with ease. The only time you stumbled was when –

The thought pierces through the fog in Tomura’s mind. Running water. Vampires cannot cross running water, and you stumbled on the bridge.

Tomura tears the cup from your hand and seizes your hand itself. He’s still wearing your silver, but when he looks at your hand, he sees that your hand is adorned with angry red scratches. Around your wrist and middle fingers, connected to one another by jagged lines across the back of your hand. Silver may not burn you as it does Sensei, but it wounds you all the same. You wore a veil in the sunlight. You struggled to cross the water. Tomura’s grip on your hand tightens convulsively. “What are you?”

“A mistake the Old One made,” you say. “With luck, a fatal one. Drink.”

Tomura studies the cup. What was it you said? It will do no harm that has not already been done. You are something like a vampire, but you are not Sensei, and your feelings about Sensei seem to match Tomura’s own. Besides — Tomura’s hand shakes, and the liquid inside the cup splashes back and forth. It’s been so long since he had a drink.

He raises the cup to his lips and drains it in a few swallows, inordinately relieved at the way it slides down his throat rather than pooling on the back of his tongue. It’s survivable so long as Tomura doesn’t consider the taste. He looks down into the empty cup and feels a surge of discomfort when he realizes he wants more.

“I’ll give you something to drink in a few minutes,” you say. You lift the cup from Tomura’s hand and replace it with a silver bowl in his lap. “Hold this for me.”

“Why?” Tomura asks, suspicious, and then his stomach revolts.

You start to explain, but Tomura no longer needs an answer. The bowl is pointless. All he’s going to bring up with dry-heaving and retching is the blood he just drank, because he hasn’t eaten in two weeks. What are you trying to do to him? You touch Tomura’s shoulders and he shrugs off your hands, but by the time you gather up his hair to hold back from his face, he’s too far gone to protest. It hurts. Every muscle in Tomura’s body feels as though it’s being twisted and torn, and worse, his chest is tight and full, as if something jagged is caught between his throat and his lungs. He gags, his eyes streaming, his body straining to expel whatever’s left within him. If his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, he’d be screaming in agony.

The blockage is in his throat now. He can barely breathe. Saliva drips from the corners of his mouth, pooling pink-tinged in the bowl he’s somehow still holding onto, and as his body’s efforts to expel the blockage force it further upwards, Tomura’s certain it will rip him apart. Why did you bring him here? If you wanted him dead, you should have let the priest do it. It would have been faster than this.

Tomura’s body expends one last, massive effort, and something slithers onto the back of his tongue. It feels hideous, and the surge of instinctual disgust finishes the job. Tomura hunches forward, mouth open as wide as it will go, and spews a glob of black, congealed blood into the bowl.

It takes him a few moments of sucking down air to speak. “What is that?”

“Vampire blood,” you say, your expression grim. “Do you recall consuming the Old One’s blood?”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” Tomura coughs. “I would never –”

Yes, he would. He did. Tomura abhors the memory, but it sinks its teeth into him anyway, and he’s powerless to escape. Just like always.

He had thought it was a nightmare. Tomura has so many nightmares that they’ve become almost routine, and his friends have grown used to shaking him awake when his raving disturbs them. In that dream, he was walking, somewhere distant from the village, barefoot and still dressed in his sleeping clothes. It was night, and he was alone, and when Sensei appeared, fear like Tomura had never known arrowed through him. It’s useless to run, Sensei said. Tomura ran anyway.

Tomura knows better than anyone that there can be no escape, that Sensei will have what he wants in the end, but he fought in spite of that, as Sensei’s teeth sunk into the familiar wounds through his clothes. Tomura could see lights nearby, a village or a town, but no matter how he kicked and screamed for help, no one came. Sensei must have known they wouldn’t. He didn’t bother to cover Tomura’s mouth.

By the time he was through with Tomura, Tomura felt hollow. I have missed you, Sensei said. And I have taken much. Let me offer you something in return.

Tomura remembers the tearing sound as Sensei rent his own dry, desiccated flesh, remembers the feeling of Sensei’s wrist held down over his mouth and nose, his rotting blood spilling down Tomura’s face. Tomura couldn’t breathe without taking it in, and although he would rather have suffocated then and there, his body would not allow him to do anything but survive. He opened his mouth, desperate for air, and Sensei’s blood poured in.

Tomura woke still coughing and struggling for air, but there was no blood on his face or on his clothes, and the bite marks stung no worse than they always did. It was a nightmare. Only a nightmare. How –

“The Old One has power over the mind,” you say, and Tomura realizes he spoke aloud. “If he was familiar enough with your nightmares, he could mimic one, and if he cleaned up after himself, you would have no way of knowing.”

“I would rather he had drowned me.” Tomura’s voice is a horror, one no amount of coughing could scare away. “Even my thoughts are not safe.”

“With every night he does not feed from you, his ability to manipulate you will decrease,” you say. “And without his blood choking the life from you, you can begin to regain your strength.”

What strength? Tomura’s been Sensei’s plaything since he was a child. Among his friends he’s the weakest, the one whose mistakes endanger the others, the one who never should have drawn the others into Sensei’s dark orbit. He cares nothing for the villagers, but some untold number of them would not be rotting alive if he had never set foot in their village. And now you’ve involved yourself, whatever you are. Sensei’s mistake, hopefully fatal. What does that mean?

Tomura intends to ask, but you bring him a cup filled with water, and all his attention diverts to consuming it as quickly as possible and then getting more. He drinks enough to make himself nauseous, and while he’s funneling water down his throat, you take the silver bowl away and dispose of the clot of Sensei’s blood. Then you return with healer’s supplies. “For your fingers, and the bites,” you explain. “The Old One’s essence is gone, but I cannot claim to have healed you if I leave the rest unaddressed.”

It’s innocuous enough. Everything about you is innocuous enough, but you’re concealing something beneath it. You have yet to answer Tomura’s original question, but when he opens his mouth, he asks another. “What’s in this for you?” You glance at him, then look away. “Answer me. You said yourself that he will never stop hunting me. By sheltering me, you place yourself in his path. Why would you take such a risk? Why would anyone –”

“Your friends took that risk,” you say. “They confronted the priest. Spinner dared to enter the woods and seek me out. And I very much doubt that they have allowed you to face the Old One alone.”

No, and they’ve paid for it. Tomura always knows when one of his friends has had a run-in with Sensei or his servants — they come back hurt or haunted or both. To bend Tomura to his will, Sensei made them suffer, and it was the knowledge that his friends were suffering for him that led Tomura to plan their escape. Their escape had casualties. Tomura doesn’t mourn for them, for the entire city that burned as he fled Sensei’s reach. If any of them had reached out a hand to him when it counted, he would never have fallen into Sensei’s clutches to begin with.

No, he doesn’t mourn for the city. He mourns for Twice, who they sometimes find sitting still and staring at nothing, seeing whatever he saw when he unlocked the asylum to free Toga over and over again. He mourns for Toga, who was locked away on suspicion of witchcraft for three days before they could rescue her — and three days was too long. He mourns Dabi, who locked himself in a cellar with Sensei and set the house ablaze, who survived at a hellish price. He mourns for Spinner endlessly, Spinner who became his friend before the rest, who will pay for that mistake for the rest of his life.

Tomura mourns, and brings mourning in turn, to his friends who are foolish or unfortunate enough to love him. “My friends have suffered because of me,” he says. “You know nothing of me. Do you wish to do the same?”

“I have no choice in the matter,” you say. “But if I did, I would choose this. Now, are you going to let me treat your wounds, or will I have to explain to your friends why they were left open overnight?”

Tomura’s torn-apart fingertips hurt, and his bite marks are raw and itching. No poultice Toga has concocted can soothe them for longer than a few minutes, but perhaps you — something like a vampire, possibly a witch — know a little more. He nods and lies back against the altar, and you draw up a chair and sit down beside him.

You stay seated for only a moment. Then you’re on your feet once more, a roll of bandages in one hand and a pile of folded cloths in the other. You work quickly, dipping the cloth in warm water and folding it to a compress before wrapping around Tomura’s wrist, over the bites. “This is temporary,” you explain. “I’m more concerned with your fingers, but these must be covered.”

The water stings where it touches the bites. “Salt water?”

“Yes.”

“You keep salt water on hand.”

“I do,” you say without missing a beat. “I can make it myself, but water from the ocean is best.”

“Because it runs.”

“Indeed.” You move on to Tomura’s ankle, pausing to gesture at a barrel against the wall. “There is a sea, far from here, where the water is so laden with salt that a person cannot sink within it. I must dilute the water somewhat, but there’s little better when it comes to the wounds caused by vampires.”

“You’ve been there,” Tomura says, grimacing as you apply another bandage. “This sea.”

“Once. Before I came here.”

“When was that?” Tomura expects your silence. Sensei avoided questions and told the truth to Tomura in equal measure, but there was one question he never answered. “It matters not. Immortals always lie about their age.”

“I’m not immortal,” you say. Tomura manages a scoff — then a hiss, as another cloth soaked in salt-ridden water drops over a set of bites. “Before I came here. That could mean anything.”

“The brats in the village say the witch was here before the village was.”

“I’m not a witch.”

“Then what are you?” Tomura sees you prepare the next bandage and hesitate, and it takes him a few moments to realize what’s stopped you. “Leave that one. It’s covered, isn’t it?”

You nod and move on to his other wrist. To access this one, you must remove the silver jewelry you slid onto Tomura’s hand, and you’re oddly careful, just as you were when you put it on. “They’re right,” you say. “The children in the village. I was here before the church’s cornerstone was laid.”

“Why?”

“Why did you come to a village at the edge of the world?” You help Tomura sit up and secure the bandage around his chest. The salt water there stings worst of all. “I was not meant to be found.”

Tomura hisses as you apply the last bandage to the bites on his neck. “Found by whom?”

You sit back down without answering, lift Tomura’s hand again, and begin to clean the ruined tips of his fingers. Something about the way you handle him makes him uneasy. It feels — different than the way the others touch him, on one of the humiliatingly myriad occasions that they’ve tended to him. Different, too, than anything Sensei ever did. There is no threat in anything you’re doing, and Tomura still feels as though some part of him is in danger. Tomura once fought back at any hint of danger. Now he is aware that some dangers cannot be fled from. And in surviving others, all that can be done is to hold still and go beneath its notice.

Tomura is lying down, but as you trade from tending to his right hand to addressing his left, he begins to feel dizzy. Dizziness is familiar, as familiar as itching and nausea, but Tomura associates these things with Sensei, and you have not touched a drop of his blood. Did he damage something within while fighting to expel Sensei’s essence? He opens his mouth to ask you — it was your idea, after all — but a surge of nausea overwhelms him and he clenches his jaw shut.

His vision telescopes, the way it always does when Sensei goes too far, and the agonized sound that forces its way through his clenched teeth alerts you that something’s wrong. “What is it?” you ask, and lift Tomura’s wrist to take his pulse. His vision is blurred, but even he can see that your fingers are stained red.

“No,” you say, and Tomura hears an unfamiliar note in your voice. You curse. “I was a fool –”

“What?” Tomura manages. “It won’t stop?”

“I broke his hold on you. His hold kept your bites sealed, and now –” You curse again, cast about, and worse, you let Tomura’s hand fall. He seizes your wrist with weak, shaking fingers. “I have no time. I need to seal your wounds, and –”

“Do it like he used to,” Tomura says, and you flinch. Under other circumstances, Tomura would flinch to hear himself ask such a thing. He would never have asked it of Sensei; nor would he have said this: “Please.”

You look sickened, but you don’t deny that you can do as he’s asked. Tomura sees your eyes dart to all corners of the room, seeking answers that aren’t present, help that won’t come. Then you unwrap the bandage around his wrist, raise it to your mouth, and draw your tongue over the oozing marks on Tomura’s wrist.

Tomura learned much about vampires from Sensei, much of it unwillingly. The first thing Sensei taught him was that vampires never kill a victim unless they mean to. He showed Tomura how a single swipe of his tongue could seal the bites, so that Tomura would not bleed unless Sensei wished it. Tomura hated how Sensei did this. Sensei did it slowly. But you’re quick, efficient, moving with haste to the marks on his ankles, then to his other wrist. Sensei always savored the remnants of blood drying on Tomura’s skin. You seem as though you wish to avoid tasting it at all.

The bite marks on his thigh stymie you temporarily, and Tomura, too. The idea of spreading his legs and allowing access to it is so disgusting that Tomura rejects it out of hand — only for his mind to blur along with his vision, reminding him that his life is at risk. What is he doing? What dignity or virtue is left to him? “Bend your knee,” you order, and when Tomura’s control over his leg fails halfway through the motion, you help him do it. “Here –”

There’s a knife in your hand, the same silver knife as before. You cut away the blood-soaked fabric to expose the bite, and Tomura sees blood, so much blood, in the split second before you lower your mouth to it. Your tongue draws lightly over Tomura’s skin, then once more, with more pressure, and Tomura jerks, shudders. Your mouth is covered in his blood when you draw away, and although Sensei always licked his lips clean, you wipe Tomura’s blood away on the back of your hand.

You don’t want it. The thought is a single pinpoint of clarity in Tomura’s increasingly muddled thoughts, and it holds true as you seal the bites over his heart, then move to his throat. Tomura expends the last of his strength to turn his head, exposing the bites. As you lean over him, his vision goes dark for a moment. All he feels is the soft huff of your breath against his skin before you lick the wound, sealing it, too.

Tomura’s vision comes back for a split second as you pull away, long enough to see the way you’re looking at him. He never saw Sensei look at him that way, without hunger, with something else. His vision blurs, then fades, and Tomura gives up the fight to stay conscious. He’s certain of only two things: First, that if he must die, this is preferable to either of the fates he avoided today, and second, that if he dies today, it won’t be because of you.

<- part i

[kingkatsuki]

Hi! 6, 20 and 25 please 👹🎤

Hihihi Az! I hope you’re having a good day my lovely💕

6) which ship fans are the most annoying?

Bkdk and Sasunaru. (And not anime fandom but Caryl shippers from The Walking Dead genuinely ruined the entire fandom.)

20) part of canon you found tedious or boring

Answered here, but I’m such a hater I can give you more. This entire fight with stars and straps or whatever her name is, and the training with Gran Torino.

25) common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

BuT hE hAs nO cAnOn TiMeSkIp. Yeah, but he also shoots explosions out of his palms, got turned into a fleshball, died and goes to a school ran by a mouse. I think he has bigger problems.

Also just in general but I saw people complaining about how readers are written recently. And as someone who grew up with NO x reader content only OC or Mary-Sue, you need to shut up and write it yourself if you’re not happy with it.

[ao3feed-toshinko]

Make Me a Man

by Simswriting

“I know you want to be the greatest hero of your generation, a living symbol of peace, but don’t forget you’re also a person.” Even now, before he’s officially become a hero—before he’s done anything he can feel the subtle weight of his ambition.

It doesn’t stop his mouth from arching into a goofy grin.

“I don’t know, I think all I’ll ever want is this.” And as the words tumble out of his mouth, he knows he means it. He’s not sacrificing himself for the greater good—he genuinely wants this.

“Eventually you’ll realize you need someone to see you as a man and not a hero.” A startled breath shakes in his lungs, his mind numb at the thought.

It sounds like a prophecy.

Implied Young Yagi Toshinori x Inko Midoriya | literally my favorite fic I’ve ever written

Words: 2855, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko, Midoriya Izuku, Shimura Nana, Torino Sorahiko | Gran Torino

Relationships: Midoriya Inko/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko & Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Additional Tags: Protective Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Yagi Toshinori | All Might-centric, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Needs a Hug, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Faces Consequences, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Has a Big Dick, Yagi Toshinori loves Inko Midoriya, Young Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Young Midoriya Inko, Young Love, NSFW, hero worship zine, Midoriya Inko Needs a Hug, Supportive Midoriya Inko, Plot with a dash of porn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62083051

[deusvervewrites]

All For Support AU x 1-B AU: Which do you think is more likely? Midoriya finding Stain, and subsequently having to fight him/save Iida and Native? Or him running into Gran Torino?

Stain. His luck is too bad