#lower class woman who's made out to be the villain simply for not wanting to be lower class ??

[genericpuff]

i know you said if you never mentioned a webtoon you either don't read it or don't have a strong opinion so sorry beforehand if this ask might be annoying, but im just curious if you have any opinion on remarried empress, specifically the whole uhhh extremely villified woman who happens to be a slave. its not the exact same as minthe but i do always see the parallels between them since both are oppressed and 'lower-class' women in opposition to the mary sue protagonist and the fans are just very classist when insulting them ('she doesn't know her place' etc etc) i kinda see RE as the korean version of LO coz they're both so popular and annoyingly everywhere/overhyped (tho i have to admit RE has better consistency with art and story). But i have a greater distaste for RE mostly coz the fans keep showing up in other webtoons comment sections lol

yeeeah the remarried empress is literally one of those exact webtoons that fits that category of "stuff I know is shit so I'm not gonna bother" LMAO I'm not a huge fan of royal family type dramas anyways, the genre just ain't for me (or I haven't found one that's connected with me yet) but I'm definitely not interested in reading a royal family drama that I know from the start I won't enjoy due to its writing LOL (I can appreciate why people like the ones that are written well though, again, a lot of them just aren't for me)

that said, there's a lot to support the theory that Rachel is trying to do some "royal family drama" thing with LO (especially with some of the language in the comic, like how Ares and Apollo will go off about Persephone's "pedigree"??? which is just such royal family "pure bloodline" eugenics crap tbh), but she's failing at it immensely because 1.) she's not good at writing drama, let alone royal family drama, and 2.) a lot of royal family dramas on Webtoons these days are also garbage so whatever she's taking inspiration from probably isn't high quality to begin with ( ；｀ヘ´) Hades and Persephone definitely reek of "rich and powerful white couple who use their power to abuse the lower class" and they don't even have the benefit of having interesting character arcs, they're just boring and mean.

[leonardhoee]

A Rant About Ikesen’s Treatment of Motonari

I’ve been away from tumblr for a while but I had to come back for this.

So something I’ve noticed throughout playing Ikesen is the way that the game is very biased agains Motonari and I think it needs to be addressed because he is the only brown character and his portrayal is full of harmful stereotypes against brown men. I love this game but I haven't seen a single person acknowledge how badly Motonari is treated by the creators and the fandom as a result of that.

Also any racist comments will be blocked.

Possible route spoilers under the cut…

So lets start with the obvious, he is the only dark skinned character in Ikesen and when I first started playing I was so happy about that because finally (regardless of his ethnicity which honestly in this portrayal of him can be up for debate, I HC him as south East Asian) we are getting some representation. Throughout the game though I started noticing a lot of harmful stereotypes being thrown onto him that none of the other characters face.

Both him and Nobunaga are relatively misogynistic, I’m not denying that at all. However the way it is portrayed in their routes is very different. Nobunaga should in fact have sexual harassment charges, yet its romanticized repeatedly throughout his route. Motonari on the other hand treated MC as a possession the same way Nobunaga did, however he is shown as aggressive and scary as opposed to Nobunaga being shown as sexy and romantic.

There is also a difference in their respective CG’s 

Motonari’s CG is shown much more threatening and aggressive than Nobunaga’s

That brings me to my next point. Every other antagonist so far is shown to have a gentle and redeemable side. Kenshin threatened to wage war on the whole country while keeping MC locked in a cell yet he is still shown to be gentle and romantic. Kennyo repeatedly kidnaps and threatens MC’s life in other routes yet he is shown as a gentle monk who just wants revenge for his fallen brethren. Why doesn't Motonari get that level of consideration and empathy? Why is he, the only brown man, shown as an aggressive two-dimensional brute in every single route that isn’t his own? And this is a harmful stereotype that shows itself in all kinds of media. Brown men are depicted as predatory and aggressive both in fiction and real life.

This leads me to his ethnicity (I’m only talking about Ikesen’s portrayal of Motonari, I am well aware he was a Japanese warlord irl). In his route there is a part where he is talking about slavery and colonialism. As a South Asian woman I completely understand his perspective and its what got me thinking about this subject in the first place.

This subject is clearly personal to him. These lines, the way he looks as opposed to the other characters, and the fact that he speaks Spanish (around this time period the Philippines were being colonized by Spain), leads me to head cannon him as South East Asian, specifically Filipino. However, historically, Motonari comes from a region of Southern Japan, which is known as Hiroshima today. Cybird meant to market him as Okinawan. A large part of the reason Motonari is being treated this way by Cybird stems from the fact that people from Okinawa face racism from mainland Japan. Considering the fact that this game was made in Japan, and knowing what we know about their history of colonization, racism, and east asian beauty standards revolving around colorism, I am honestly not surprised that Motonari is being portrayed like this.

Until now they just showed his reason for fighting the Oda to be “oh I just want to watch the world burn for no reason”. But no that’s not the reason. These lines. That’s the reason. A lot of the context behind those lines comes from the fact that comes from because people from mainland Japan treated Okinawan people as slaves. He doesn’t want to see another colonizer come into power. Sure he’s a bit of an extremist but historically people who have this ideology have always been portrayed as savage and barbaric and “against the betterment of society” (think Jet from atla or even Malcom x). It’s no different in ikesen. The devs are clearly villainizing this ideology. Let’s not forget the fact that irl Hideyoshi invaded Korea. And the fact that anime and otome games are part of Japan’s way of erasing their war crimes and rebranding themselves to the rest of the world. It’s blatantly obvious here with the way they’re villainizing Motonari for having a perfectly valid reason to fight the Oda. If Japan stays divided they can’t invade and colonize other countries like the Philippines can they? Anti-colonialism = bad. 

Lastly I want to talk about how they downplayed his abilities as a leader and a warlord in his own right. In all the other routes he is depicted as less educated and frankly “dumb”, and it shows itself in his speech patterns too. Compared to Nobunaga and Mitsuhide, Motonari’s speech is stereotypically “less educated” and “lower class”. Yet he is just as much of a leader as any of the other warlords. However instead of acknowledging that, the game chooses to focus on his crimes and behavior as a pirate, instead of his role as the head of the Mouri clan.

At one point Kicho even compares his intelligence to a fifth grader which just rubs me the wrong way because lets take a moment to actually look at Motonari’s abilities. He is multilingual, has knowledge of global politics and economics, is an amazing businessman, and extremely analytical. He is literally known as the God of Decit, yet I did not hear that name once until his route came out. His strategies are good enough to be called a god, yet that is completely buried in the other routes in order to simplify his character into a trigger happy psychopath and a violent brute. He is just as smart as Nobunaga yet he is not given the credit he deserves.

Both Motonari and Nobunaga are extremely similar yet because of the horribly biased portrayals, Motonari is one of the least popular characters whereas Nobunaga is the second most popular. It makes me angry to see people in the fandom choosing to blindly hate Motonari without recognizing the fact that this stems from a frankly racist portrayal of an extremely intelligent and powerful character. Although truthfully, I blame the devs because if they had given his character even half the consideration and depth the others got, this would not be the case. 

You can disagree with me if you want. I am simply bringing attention to something I haven’t seen being addressed.

I hope in future routes, events, and sequels he is treated better by the devs and and the fandom. Please stop projecting racist stereotypes onto brown men.

[giorno-plays-piano]

No Mercy

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x thief!Reader

Warnings: non-con, yandere, sex pollen, minor depiction of violence, threats, stalking, allusion to kidnapping, both Bakugo and reader are adults!

Words: 2388.

Summary: Obviously, you have chosen a wrong night to rob that electronics store.

P.S. Yay, this is my first BNHA story! 

By the way, there is absolutely no real science in this fic, please don’t bully me for it ahahahah

_________________________

Oh dear, it was getting worse.

That morning you had a feeling you better stay home tonight, but your rent wasn't going to pay itself, so you still went out to rob that ugly little electronics store you stumbled upon a few days ago. Now you were being chased by one of the most popular pros, Ground Zero, and saints, you really hoped to keep all your limbs attached to your body: the guy was mad.

Really, you weren't such a villain he had probably pictured you to be. Your job in the cafe wasn't paying well, but with no education whatsoever it was hard to find something else, especially since that big makeup store you finally got yourself in went bankrupt after a villain attack. Your dad wasn't the one to help you stay afloat either, so, with that odd Quirk of yours, there was just one thing left to do.

With a loud sound of something exploding to your right, you jumped in the narrow back alley on the left and prayed Bakugo to at least bring you to a police station instead of finishing you off here. Seriously, who he thought you were? Someone from the League of Villains, huh? You were miserable enough trying to evade his punches, and your knees were already trembling as you were reaching your limit.

Shit, now you'd have to use that embarrassing Quirk of yours and hope it will do something decent.

Despite your Quirk manifesting itself when you were 4 just like everybody else, you were so ashamed of it you did all you could to never bring it up or use it. How embarrassing was it to have an ability to produce animal secretion right out of your hands? One time you had literally sprayed skunk defensive secretion in the class, and after that you had been called a Stinky Girl for the rest of your school days. Damn, even remembering it now was making you ashamed of yourself.

Of course, your control over your Quirk was miserable. You struggled to predict which secretion it would produce, hoping it would be something distracting enough for a hero to let you go, but oh boy Ground Zero didn't seem like the type to be scared of skunk's spray.

Staring at the dead end, you were ready to laugh hysterically - that is, if you had any time left, but Bakugo had already grabbed you by the shoulder and yelled something offensive in your ear, ready to put you down to the ground. Well, it was now or never.

Within a second you took off your black glove you'd always worn on your missions and slapped hero's cheek, leaving an angry red mark on his pale skin. The next moment you were on the ground with a very, very mad Bakugo hovering over you with such expression as if he was going to murder you in cold blood right now.

Apparently, your Quirk was useless, after all. Preparing for the worst, you stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling like a leaf, your hands up defensively to prevent him from harming you. In the end, you didn’t even steal anything as Ground Zero stormed off in the store.

But he didn't hit you. Actually, he didn't do anything at all as you stared at him nervously. He just... stood there with a grimace on his face and did nothing at all.

Oh, was it something new? Did you Quirk finally prove itself useful for once? It was a damn miracle.

"What did you do to me, bitch?" He suddenly barked, and you saw his cheeks slowly getting red as if the temperature went up all of a sudden. "What the fuck is this?!"

Shit. Civet oil. Of course, you couldn't even make some decent quantity to make him repulsed, so now all you got was a completely opposite effect.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

Hiccupping, you got up just as he seemed to lean closer to you, so you ended up smashing your forehead against his, and both of your groaned. Although you fell back again, in a couple of seconds you were running for your life with Ground Zero being unusually slow somewhere behind you. Oh shit, now he was going to fuck and kill you. What a nice day you were having.

Struggling to keep running - you didn’t even understand at what part of the city you were now - you were getting out of breath, but you no longer heard Bakugo behind your back, and it was certainly calming. Did civet oil make him slow? You weren't sure what exact effects it had except for the most obvious one. Maybe you got lucky, for once. Maybe he'd let you go just this time, and you'd do your absolute best to find a decent job and stop robbing people. Well, you weren't even robbing regular people, just snobby store owners who'd get their money back with an insurance, anyway. You had never hurt anyone physically! Why treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal?

Whatever. Ground Zero was nowhere to be seen, so you simply landed on the ground in one of small filthy backyards in a shady part of the city. Oh boy, what a run. You thought the guy was literally ready to kill you.

The cold wall you leaned on didn't feel pleasant, but it was better than staying on your feet with your knees trembling and heart beating so fast as if you ran a marathon. Yeah, to think of it, you definitely could call it a marathon.

As you finally took off your mask and wiped your face with your palm, you heard a low growl somewhere to your left, "I'm gonna fucking break you, woman."

Shit.

Scrambling to your feet, you tried dodging him but you were no match to a real pro, especially someone as good at combat as Ground Zero: you ended beneath him within a second, painfully slammed to the ground as he cursed at you, pulling your hair. Apparently, this was the end of you. The civet oil only made the hero more enraged instead of distracting him.

"Ah! It hurts!" You whined at the hair pulling and heard a dangerous hiss above you.

"Do you think this doesn't fucking hurt?"

It was impossible not to feel his obvious arousal, his painfully hard cock pressing against your lower back as the hero suddenly sniffed your hair, then making some weird noises while trying to undo his pants. Nononono, you weren't having this, you'd gladly accompany the hero to the police station where they'd cuff you and put you in prison but not let Ground Zero have his way with you.

"Get off! GET OFF!"

Your attempts to throw him off were futile, and soon he was pulling down your own pants, "You did this to me, didn't you?! So be a good girl and maybe I won't fucking kill you."

You bit down on your lower lip, your hands bound together with his belt.

Huh, there was no other way.

______________

You came back home around 3 am completely exhausted, dirty and hurt, but it was still better than being thrown in prison after a long Interrogation in a police station. Ground Zero had finally taken some pity on you after all he'd done - oh it hurt, it hurt so bad in between your thighs because you hadn't been in relationship for long, but the hero was neither patient nor gentle with you. It was a miracle he actually let you go after this miserable incident somewhere in the outskirts of the city. Was he at least a little ashamed at what he did? Did he feel any remorse? Although it certainly didn't seem like, maybe he let you go because of it.

"Or he was just afraid to deliver me to police in such state," you chuckled grimly at yourself, grabbing first-aid kit and trying to do something with all these bruises and bites. You still had to take your 10-hour shift in the cafe today, and you could barely imagine how you were going to survive.

Of course, you only slept for a couple of hours before you had to get up: that morning you put so much makeup your boss would definitely scold you, but it was better than showing up with a face of a zombie. Of course, everyone managed to see how you winced while walking. Thank god you were able to convince them of your fall yesterday's evening: you actually only worked half a day as your boss took pity on you and let you go home.

Shit, it was time to put an end to your night adventures. You'd better find one more job and work a whole night long than live through this one more time, humiliated and hurt.

By the time you got home with a grocery bag in your hand, you felt like all you were going to do today was falling down on your bed and staring into the ceiling for hours. It still hurt. It was still embarrassing to remember what he did to you. You still wanted to slap him real hard and then yell at him at the top of your voice.

Funny enough, you actually had a chance to do all that since you found Ground Zero dressed as civilian sitting on your couch.

For a couple of seconds you froze on your place, unable to believe your eyes. What the hell was he doing here? What, yesterday's wasn't enough for this bastard, was it? Did he come to make you even more miserable?

Despite fear rising in your chest, it was soon replaced by fury mixed with disgust: who did he think he were to just break into your apartment like this? You might be a thief, but even you had the right to be delivered to police and then wait till the court decided upon your punishment. Nobody had given Ground Zero permission to rape you or follow you like some sick stalker!

"You live in some fucking hole." He grumbled as he saw you walking much slower than your usual pace, and you thought it was guilt you saw on his face for a mere second.

"Welcome to a fucking hole, then." You hissed at him in return and put your bag on the floor while taking your shoes off and wincing from pain. "If you came to finally take me to a police station, let me put food in the fridge, at least."

Not that you'd need it after your arrest, but the thought of leaving the grocery bag on the floor and let the food rot made you nauseated. You detested throwing away food with all your heart.

"Food? You call this food, huh?" He was already peeking inside the bag and scrunching his face at the sight of cheep noodles and gyoza.

"Yeah, we call it food here, rich boy." You let out a growl, mad at his attempts to make you feel humiliated even more than you already did.

He clearly didn't expect such treatment from someone whom he had taken advantage of so easily, and for several moment the man had a perplexed expression, unable to believe you were so brave despite the fact your knees were trembling. He probably thought it was a facade, but you didn't care. All this wouldn't end well for you, anyway.

"I'm not rich." He sent you a glare, and you felt like laughing in his face.

"If you don't have to steal to pay your rent, you're rich."

He grimaced but said nothing at all as you went to the kitchen, dragging the bag with you. You wondered if he felt sorry for you, but you didn't want his pity. Not from the one who did this to you. In fact, the only thing you wanted from him was leaving you alone.

Besides, you kept thinking why on Earth wasn't he dressed as a hero if he came explicitly to take you to a police station? Heroes like him loved showing off, you were sure. Why did he come like this? If he thought of repeating yesterday's night, you'd fucking stab him in the groin with a kitchen knife.

"So, how many heroes have you fucked like that?"

You felt a sudden urge to stab him right now and barely kept yourself away from a box where you kept cutlery. "I do three heroes a day and three villains at night," you growled at him, disgusted with his attitude, "what, didn't you feel it when you were raping me?"

Your reply took him aback, but he recovered quickly, "Who was raping you, silly woman? You did it to yourself!"

"Yeah, I've always dreamed of being taken by some sickening, primitive hero in a dirty alley, that's more than any girl could ask for."

Huh, apparently, cat got his tongue: Ground Zero stared at you, unable to believe your words. What, did he really think you loved being treated like this? Did he have any idea what making love was? Anything about normal, adequate relationship between a man and a woman? Maybe you weren't the most law-abiding woman in the city, but you were still a decent person, and the fact that Ground Zero expected you to manipulate him into raping you was repulsive.

"Listen, just hand me over to police already. What are you waiting for, Ground Zero?"

All the food was long put in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Staring intensely at the man who shouldn't even be here, you crossed your arms over your chest, expecting him to drag you out of the house, but when he stepped closer to you it felt suffocating. Shit, the fear was coming back when you saw his expression darkened, his red pupils dilating when he grabbed your arm above the elbow and pulled you to him. Was he really going to do this to you?

You expected him to snap at you, but when he spoke he sounded strangely cold and collected.

"First, you will call me Bakugo from now on," he voice was dangerously low, "Second, I haven't come all the way here to bring to a fucking police station. You will come with me, do you understand?"

_______________

I didn’t put my regular taglist here since it was only made for Marvel fics, but please let me know if your want to be on my BNHA taglist, too!

[starrywhump]

Could you continue the story about hero and villain being captured by the anti super power organization? I really enjoyed and i want more of it

I was actually about to post this story when I got this ask, so perfect timing!  I hope y’all enjoy this next part.  It is a bit long and it’s late so I’m not proofreading super well so I apologize for any typos.  Thanks for reading!

TW: Drugging

Part 1 

“Unit 13, log it as a class B, regular holding will be sufficient,”

“What are you talking about!?” The Hero yelled at the man beside them.

They were restrained on a cold metal table, strapped down with leather at their ankles, wrists, chest, and neck. Various people in lab coats milled around the room around them, ignoring them completely. It was infuriating, even the Villain talked back to them. 

The man next to them seemed to be in charge, they calmly spoke orders to the others.

“Take a blood sample to be sure, we don’t want any surprises,” the man in charge called across the room.

The Hero couldn’t move their head more than a few inches, so they could only see the people right next to them. They felt much too vulnerable locked down without any use of their powers.

If this was a normal situation the Hero would just break out of the ties around them, but there was something in the air that made the Hero feel weak. It was like someone had put gauze between the Hero and their powers. They were still there, they could see them faintly, but they couldn’t get to them.

The Hero’s powers weren’t something that was always with them, but it was always there for them to access. It was a part of them but now it was blocked off. The Hero wasn’t helpless without them, they still knew how to fight. But that added strength was something they couldn’t count on anymore. 

Usually, when they used their powers their regular abilities became enhanced, they were stronger, faster, more agile. If they really focused they could harden their skin, creating their very own armor.

They were almost unstoppable until they met the Villain no one had been a match for them. Now this place easily neutralized them. It was unnerving.

Footsteps by the Hero’s left side broke them out of their thoughts. A woman stood over them with a needle, attached with tubing to a small vial.

“Hey! Get away from me!” The Hero jerked in their binds.

“Sedate it for transport once you’re done with that,” the man in charge didn’t even look up, they were focused on writing something on the clipboard they held.

“Will do,” the woman nodded. She pinched up the skin on the Hero’s inner elbow, inserting the needle.

The Hero paused their struggling as they watched the vial fill up with their blood. The woman pulled the vial from the tube, securing the lid and handing it over to the Hero the man on the other side. She then pulled the needle out of the Hero’s arm, placing a bandaid there to stop any bleeding.

It was all very confusing. They hadn’t done anything to hurt them, not since the guards had shocked them to get them out of their cell. No one had talked to them, or even looked them in the eye, it was like they were some inanimate object to be observed.

The woman was looming over him again, this time holding a syringe filled with a white liquid.

“Hey! Stop! What is that? Get away from me! Didn’t you hear me I said GET AWAY!” The Hero yelled as the woman pushed their head to the side, injecting whatever was in the syringe into their neck.

“What was that! Hey, listen to me what was that!” The Hero yelled as the woman removed the syringe.

“Ok, you can move it back to holding,” with that the man walked out, followed shortly after by the woman.

The Hero felt a wave of cold, numbness sweep through them.

The guards from before appeared at the Hero’s sides, they began to undo their restraints.

As soon as their wrist was free the Hero tried to punch up at the nearest guard. All they could do was move it about an inch off the table before it fell back down. 

The guards looked at each other and laughed.

The Hero’s brain felt like putty, unable to fully understand what was going on.

An overwhelming sense of fear overtook them. They suddenly missed the cold indifference of the lab coats. It was better than the cruel hunger that shone in the eyes of the guards above them.

The Hero was pulled up off the table, and set on their feet. They blinked sluggishly, the room spun around them.

Invasive hands held them up and began to push them forward.

“Stop-” the Hero slurred.

The guards ignored them.

The Hero’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Time seemed to jump forward every time they blinked.

It felt like no time had passed before one of the guards was unlocking the bar door to their cell. 

The Hero was shoved unceremoniously into their cell, they stumbled and tripped over their own feet, falling to the ground.

They tried to get their hands under them, to push back up to a standing, or at least sitting position. Before they could a kick from one of the guards stomped down on their back. They laughed as the Hero’s face slammed into the concrete floor.

********

The Villain closed their eyes, silently thinking, plotting. Since they first got here they never yelled or screamed, they simply sat and thought, waiting for the right moment or opportunity to escape and kill everyone in this godforsaken place.

It was a bit hard to think when you have to listen to two idiots beating the shit out of your nemesis next door. While they were gone it had been a few hours of blissful peace, but as soon as the Hero was dragged back into their cell that was over. 

From the way they had walked in the Villain could tell the Hero had been drugged, they were being too complacent not to be.

If the Hero had just been left to lay quietly in a drug-induced stupa everything would have been fine.

But of course, the assholes who run this place wouldn’t be happy with just kidnapping and drugging people.

They had to have their fun messing with the powerful beings rendered powerless. It probably was an ego thing, these grunt workers, clearly lower in the chain of command than the scientists around here, would get a rush from beating up Heros.

“Get ‘ff...me,” a slurred complaint from the Hero next door distracted the Villain momentarily.

The Villain couldn’t see what was going on due to a concrete wall between their cells. But they could clearly hear fists connecting with a body. Occasionally this was followed by the Hero’s pitiful attempts to fight back, usually entailing a threat spoken in a weak voice, almost too quiet to hear. It didn’t exactly inspire fear.

“ st-” the Hero cut themselves off with a groan of pain.

The Villain rolled their eyes, this was getting really boring. They rolled off their cot and walked over to the front of their cell. They grabbed the bars as looked over to the Hero’s cell, they could only see a small sliver of it.

“Are you quite finished in there?” The Villain spoke loud enough to be heard in the Hero’s cell. 

The sounds of the fighting stopped.

“Why do you care?” One of the guards exited the Hero’s cell to stand outside the bars of the Villain’s.

“Because it's loud. It’s getting on my nerves.”

“And why would I care about what you want?” The guard sneered.

“I don’t care what you care about. Just try to finish proving your machoness by beating up someone who can’t fight back, and go away so I can have some peace,” The Villain deadpanned, gazing at the guard with a bored look.

The guard reddened, whether with anger or embarrassment it was unclear.

They reached through the bars grabbing the Villain’s shirt and jerked them forward against the bars, “You think you’re so fucking funny!”

The Villain’s expression didn’t change, they left their hands hanging limply at their sides. Their lack of a reaction seemed to only make the guard angrier.

“Well if it’s such a problem for you, you can deal with it,” the guard growled.

They released the Villain, moving to unlock their cell. Before the Villain could make a move the guard grabbed the Villain by their shirt, pulling them out into the hall.

The Villain scowled, trying to stay upright as the guard moved and shoved them into the Hero’s cell.

Looking down they saw the Hero laying on their side. There was a small puddle of blood next to their face, coming from their nose and a few cuts littered around their face. They had their arms up around their head, hands on the back of their neck, trying to shield themselves.

The Villain turned back to the guard in the hall, “what do you expect me to do with that?” they gestured at the Hero, “I mean I would be happy to kill them for you but do you really need my help to do that?” The Villain leaned back against the wall, crossing their arms.

“Clean them up,” The guard in the hall motioned to his partner. The partner walked out of the cell using keys to open a solid gray door between all the bars. They brought out a bucket, bringing it to the Hero’s cell and dropping it inside.

Water sloshed out onto the floor. Next to the bucket, the guard dropped a few rags.

“Boss doesn’t like blood.”

The Vilain looked down at the bucket and laughed, “Yeah, no. Sorry, I’m not a nurse. You made the mess clean it up yourself.”

The guard ignored them, sliding the bar door into place, “Clean them and the floors. If when I get back it’s not clean, I will kill you. And don’t kill them, boss doesn’t like it when the new ones die, if they end up dead so are you.”

With that the guards walked away, leaving the Villain alone with the Hero.

The Villain rolled their eyes.

Fucking hell.

“Get up,” the Villain stayed where they were against the wall, yelling over to the Hero.

The Hero didn’t move.

The Villain pushed off the wall, trudging reluctantly to the Hero’s side. There was no fun in being around the Hero if they couldn’t try to kill them.

The Villain nudged the Hero’s leg with their foot. 

They curled in on themselves more, pulling their arms around their head.

“Move, I need to clean underneath you,” The Villain spoke in an annoyed monotone. 

“If... ‘f your gon-gonna kill me... get on ‘th it,” The Hero’s speech was slurred and broken. Whatever drugs they were on weren’t enough to completely knock them out, but they were very close. 

“I really wish I could. Really I do, but killing you will have to wait. Now move or I’m going to kick you,”

The Hero looked confused.

They weren’t the brightest in the first place but these drugs make them idiotic.

The Villain rolled their eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Well, I told you,” the Villain aimed a kick at the Hero’s side. It was a relatively soft blow, but the Hero yelped loudly.

“Move. I don’t wanna get my hands dirty dragging you, you’re all bloody.”

The Hero pushed their hands against the floor, trying to pick themselves up off the ground. They got a few inches off the ground before one of their arms gave out. The other slipped on the blood-slick concrete. The Hero fell on their face, groaning in pain.

“Jesus Christ fine,” the Villain stepped over the Hero, moving above their head to grab their under their arms.  The Hero jumped at their touch but didn’t have the strength to fight them, even if they wanted to.

The Villain dragged the Hero over to the wall, resting them against it. 

A pool of blood had collected beside the Hero from their nose. The Villain took one of the rags and began to sop up the puddle.

They glanced back over to the Hero, “Stop bleeding so much, I don’t want another puddle to clean up.”

The Villain chucked the blood-soaked rag next to the bucket. There wasn’t that much blood on the ground, and it cleaned up pretty easily. What the Villain didn’t want to do was clean up their drugged up nemesis over there, but they didn’t want to die more, so they grabbed another rag. They dipped the rag in the water, ringing it out before moving over to the Hero.

There wasn’t too much blood on the Hero’s shirt, most of it had run onto the floor.  

The Villain ran the cloth over the Hero’s chin, stopping the latest wave of red from dripping down onto their chest. 

The Hero looked... afraid. An emotion the Villain hadn’t seen on the Hero before. At least not naturally. 

Perhaps the drugs stripped away the Hero’s ability to hide their true feelings, or maybe the vulnerability of their current state was getting to them.

The Villain’s mouth twitched with a small smile. The Hero would have never let the Villain get this close usually, because they knew what the Villain could do when they got close to someone.

Not in this place, where their powers were blocked, but out in the real world, the Villain could inflict pain with just a touch.

It worked from far away on the weaker-minded part of the population, but up close, touching, it was easy for the Villain’s power to cause its victim immense pain.  

Depending on what the Villain wanted and how hard they were focusing they could make the Hero relive their most painful memories, access their deepest insecurities and worries, or they could simply light every nerve in the Hero’s body up with pain.

The Hero must logically know that the Villain can’t do that here, but the memory must still be scaring them.

The Hero had never been vulnerable before they met the Villain. No one had been able to stand a chance against them with their enhanced abilities. 

But the Villain didn’t fight physically, or at least they didn’t need to. The Villain was actually quite skilled at martial arts but often used their powers instead to destroy their opponent without lifting a finger. 

“Scared?” The Villain smirked, keeping their hand on the Hero’s chin.

The Hero blinked for a moment before they seemed to register the question.

“no..’m not,” the Hero slurred, tripping over their words. They sluggishly moved their arms up to push at the Villain’s hand holding their face. 

“No, no, leave it. Wouldn’t want me to slip and...” the Villain pushed on the Hero’s broken nose, eliciting a curse from the Hero.

“I can’t kill you but there is a large space between not killing you and treating you nicely. If I were you I wouldn’t give me a reason to explore that space,” The Villain released the Hero’s chin with a jerk to the side.

The Hero looked at the Villain, most likely tried to glare at them, but their face was puffy from bruises and their eyes were unfocused from the sedative, so it didn’t have the intended threatening air.

The Villain pushed their hand into the Hero’s hair, it was ruffled from the guards' onslaught. Also damp, with blood or sweat the Villain didn’t know. They gripped the Hero’s hair to push their head back against the wall. With the other hand, they wiped at the blood on the Hero’s face.  

Their nose was bleeding heavily, but small streams of blood also trickled from the cuts on their left eyebrow and the middle of their forehead. 

The Hero breathed heavily, their eyes were shifted between a glassy confused look and one of anger and fear.  They were clearly fighting hard against what the guards had given them, but it didn’t seem to be doing much. They could barely move their limbs, the Villain would have loved this back on the outside. It seemed a waste to only be able to experience it here.

“Alright,” the Villain moved the rag off the Hero’s face, “all done,” They dropped the rag and returned their hand to the Hero’s cheek.

The Hero flinched. 

The Villain traversed the Hero’s face with their hand. Inspecting their enemy at such in such close quarters was fascinating.

The two stared at each other. Silently trying to figure out how their relationship would operate in this new situation.  

The Villain finally pulled away, giving the Hero’s hair a playful tug before they released their grip.  

The Hero breathed a sigh of relief as the Villain stepped away.

The Villain walked to the other side of the Hero’s cell and sat down opposite them. They watched as the Hero slowly succumbed to the drugs, falling to their side. The Hero’s breathing deepened and evened out signifying they had fallen unconscious. 

Still, the Villain watched. 

[warsofasoiaf]

Character Analysis: Jon Irenicus

Irenicus is a fun villain, and I think nailed one interesting element of writing down, that of bringing down the villain’s threat in an interesting and believable way. The hero typically grows in power in any story, not just in a game where your progression is literally your XP, but what the villain does, how they grow, is also interesting. If the villain is more powerful than the hero, and also does things to grow and learn, theoretically the villain should still be wrecking house. BG2 wove this into the story itself, where the more you learned about Irenicus, the less menacing he became, culminating into where he was arguably your lesser at the end: he was powerful but only aping what you were. 

Obviously, spoilers for BG2 abound.

Baldur’s Gate II introduces us to our villain almost as a cold open. Fresh off the high of defeating Sarevok, you leave Baldur’s Gate after being pressured to leave by “dark forces” and by those who suspected that you shared similar heritage to Sarevok. Seems a bit odd, honestly, to oust the Bhaalspawn with suspicion given that during the course of Baldur’s Gate I, you saved two of the Grand Dukes. It’s certainly understandable that folks would fear your heritage and you’d want to move on to greener pastures, but something more than a 3-minute cut scene would have probably set the scene better.

However, this opening, and the ‘cutscene’ that follows gives Irenicus a grand initial reveal to the player. This guy is an ultra-powerful wizard, and he speaks with a clinical detachment as he states: “It’s time for more experiments.” It’s a wonderful opening to illustrate exactly what you’re dealing with. He’s clearly interested in your godly soul, and exploiting it to some unknown purpose. What is unknown, as he gets called away by some unspecified intruders by a golem. In the next scene, magical traps are set off as an unspecified Shadow Thief gets disintegrated. Story-wise, this serves no purpose, it’s purely meant to be a way to show off the new spell effects and other cosmetic changes to the engine from Baldur’s Gate II, with the disintegration dust and the screen shaking. But it does help illustrate the power level that Irenicus is throwing around. Save-or-die spells were relatively rare in the lower level of Baldur’s Gate I, even Semaj, Sarevok’s mage companion, wasn’t firing off disintegration willy-nilly. Throwing around disintegration spells clearly shows that Irenicus is a new high-level baddy. Later we see that he killed characters from Baldur’s Gate I off-screen, Khalid and Dynahier, two of the three sets of paired companions from BG1. This gives their partners reason to join in with the player character, but it also serves to show his power; Irenicus is such a bad dude that he can wipe your party before the game starts, like he was getting coffee. It might be a cruel cut, but that’s its intent, to make the player character mad at the villain, to want to punch his smarmy face in.

Commensurate in the danger of Irenicus is the need to find out what’s going on. Irenicus clearly knows something about your godly soul and so you want to find out what he knows. Even for an upstanding lawful good character, growing in power means finding a way to effect good on a larger scale, and perhaps to overcome the evil in your tainted blood. After all, no matter how good you were in Baldur’s Gate I, you still were an incredibly powerful killer. Sure, most if not all of them were bad dudes, Mulahey the iron ore poisoner, the bandits of Cloakwood, the Iron Throne and their plans to take over the Sword Coast. But chaos and destruction follow in your wake, and that chaos undoubtedly would hurt innocent civilians; Saradush in Throne of Bhaal is clear of that enough. Even just knowing more about what is going on could better prepare you for the next Irenicus or the next Sarevok.

When you go through the starter dungeon (another piece of game design, you are being tutorialized but the pastoral instruction of Candlekeep makes no sense for someone who already had an adventure), pieces of the man start to fall into place. He holds a bunch of captive dryads as concubines to remind him of someone he lost. He keeps an immaculate bedroom for a companion that is never there, with an alarm ready to dispatch the golems to kill any who cross the threshold. There’s a woman that was in his life that is no longer there, and the loss pains him, or at least, it seems that it should. Chatter with Imoen and the dryads show that this mystery man is trying to elicit feelings that he had lost, and that’s an entirely different case of worms than pining over a lost love. There’s some element of almost-unwilling psychopathy to these actions. Other hints in this dungeon illustrate this as well. His servants, discarded in vats and forgotten about entirely, would at first evoke classical evil overlords casually disregarding their own subjects. He’s almost all of the way there, but there’s enough there that the player is suggested that there has to be something more to it than that. He does seem to have some sort of sociopathy to him, where people are objects that he can find fascinating but he has no empathy. We see this later with Wanev, who Irenicus spares solely because he was hit by a spell that left him a lunatic, which Irenicus found funny, the administrator of a jail for the insane now rendered an insane patient himself.

He is powerful though, that much is clear when you break out of the starter dungeon. His display of magic collapsed part of Waukeen’s Promenade, and when the regulatory magical body of the Cowled Wizards comes to shut it down, Irenicus is capable of swatting mages like they were mosquitos. Just like the Shadow Thieves that he had been fighting, Irenicus seems more annoyed at the interruptions than any physical threat posed by his myriad foes. He’s definitely a powerful wizard, and when he finally submits to the Cowled Wizards, he does so clearly as their superior, dragging Imoen along with him. It’s fairly plain from a game design perspective what Irenicus is doing; he’s going to Spellhold so you have to get there. Good characters want to rescue Imoen, evil characters want to interrogate him to unlock the power in your blood. Either way, the player character is given a goal, and Irenicus disappears physically from the story for the moment.

He isn’t absent though. In your dreams, Jon Irenicus waxes philosophical at the player character, evoking thought-provoking questions. He explains the paradox of your existence of being born of murder, given life from the act of taking life. He speaks about accepting the gifts that will be given to you, regardless of whether or not you want them. These dream sequences are clear upgrades in quality and presentation from the spoken-dialogue text boxes from the first game after you beat major milestones. David Warner does a great job here in delivering Irenicus’s lines, he feels like a evil mentor speaking about philosophical topics with the same detachment that he tortured the player character with in the opening. While we find out later that these dreams aren’t sendings from Irenicus but rather parts of your character’s godly subconscious, they suggest to the player going through Chapter 3 that Irenicus does indeed know a hell of a lot more about you and your godly blood, keeping the player interesting in finding out exactly what it is you need to find out. The other quests in Chapter Three don’t have much to do with Irenicus, aside from some random events with the guild war in Athkatla at night, where the player will find out pretty quick that one side is powered by vampires, the level drain and click-dialogue of “your blood is rather inviting” isn’t exactly hiding that there be vampires engaged in a secret war with the Shadow Thieves. Even then, it’s tangential. You knew the Shadow Thieves were attacking Irenicus, which suggests at least some level of camaraderie with the vampires, but as we saw with the deep dwarves in Irenicus’s lair, he doesn’t care about followers, and they might simply be disposable assets if anything at all. If you want to know about Irenicus, you’re going to have to get it from the man himself. 

Of course, as befits a high-level mage, Irenicus breaks out of the prison in a cutscene, kills the Cowled Wizards and goes back to whatever unsavory plans he thought up for Imoen, teleporting into the lobby and chewing the scenery with his “I CANNOT BE CAGED!” speech, reinforcing his position as the central big bad and confirming the Cowled Wizards as mere obstacles. This part of his plan has been made clear. Far from the meddling Shadow Thieves and Cowled Wizards, Irenicus can continue his experiments on Imoen in Spellhold, and it falls on the player character to go there and end it. Irenicus, of course, knows this too, and he makes sure he has contingency plans to deliver you to him. I’m of three minds on this. On one, he’s so powerful it seems that he is so powerful, and Amn so large, that plenty of these isolated areas within the continent would service just as well for Irenicus’s lair. Why waste time with all of this blah-blah-blah and just take what he wants? It’s not like teleport spells are beyond his ken. On the other hand, it’s a good way to break up into the freeform quest design that Chapter Three gives, offers the chance for your characters to level up and get cool gear, lets you rock the stronghold quests which definitely let you feel your class and increase replay value, and the idea of the forbidding wizard in the island lair is an excellent backdrop. On the third, it’s in-character for an immortal mage to have plans within plans, even to the point of complexity addiction, although his conduct afterward sort of torpedoes this idea. 

That is, after he recaptures you, he immediately goes back to work to his experiments, and after another trippy dream sequence with Imoen, you find his plan. His goal is to absorb your divine soul, taking it for his own. He doesn’t explain anything more, but now that he has you, he discards you just as he has so many others. Telling his sister Bodhi to dispose of you is what keeps him from being someone like the Riddler, since he’s actually going for a proper smart villain play and killing the soulless husk he leaves behind just in case he pulls a protagonist move and comes clawing back for his stolen soul. It’s Bodhi’s instability, her desire to hunt you brought on by her vampirism, that keeps you alive. After the player character becomes the Slayer, Bodhi tells Irenicus, but true to his condescending nature, he simply...ignores the PC, writing them off as someone who is going to keel over any second due to their lack of soul, completely oblivious to the fact that Bhaal’s avatar was the Slayer, and it’s clear that something is replacing the void that he left within you. The PC must effectively turn that dismissiveness against him, by releasing the imprisoned mages within Spellhold, from the powerful but mostly harmless Dili to the megalomaniacal Tiax. Yet this hard-fought battle does not end with Irenicus’s death and your victory, instead Irenicus goes to pursue his other, as-yet unknown goals while he sends another band of cutthroats to die at your hand. 

Yoshimo is sort of my feelings on this Irenicus’s Spellhold plot writ small. As powerful as Irenicus is, he really doesn’t need Yoshimo, not if he has Sarmon Havarian and so many others. Yoshimo shows up in the starter dungeon, and is useful if a bit obsequious in a “who me?” sort of fashion. He doesn’t have a really good reason to stay with the party from a story reason that he gives you. He could have said: “Hey, thanks for getting me out. Deuces!” Yoshimo’s geas gets him to want to stay with the party, otherwise he’s dead. In that sense, it makes sense for him to want to be with the group. And as the only thief who gains levels aside from the absolutely annoying Jan Jansen, he’s useful for dealing with annoying traps, because reloading a game because your main PC tripped a trap and got petrified is certainly frustrating. Game mechanics though, interfere with this. You as the player character have control over the six-person party and if you want Yoshimo to be there, he’ll be there, and if you don’t, he’ll sit in the Copper Coronet, geas be damned. He’ll stand right there until you go back in after the Underdark chapter, in which case he flops over dead and hardly anyone cares. That’s a system engine limitation certainly, but it’s remarkably clumsy. What is good though, is Yoshimo’s regret during this. He knows he has to betray you and is forced to do so, and he genuinely likes you. The writing that happens is crisp, Yoshimo truly does apologize and Irenicus backs up his dismissive assholery by telling him to shut up. When Yoshimo confronts you in Spellhold, his writing is crisp. “No redemption, and no second chances. My heart to Ilmater.” He fights you and goes down swinging (which was annoying the first time I played because he had the Celestial Fury +3). And you can actually take that heart to Ilmater, occupying a valuable inventory space through the next chapters until you can reach Waukeen’s Promenade again, where you can choose to forgive him or not, but give the heart to Ilmater either way. It would have been saccharine to restore Yoshimo, but this way, I feel, is more powerful in a world with such powerful enchantments to see the effects on the people whose lives it ruins. So the game can be clunky at parts, and Irenicus can be as well, but there’s true craft and joy in it.

Back to Irenicus though, we get the sense of more to him when we see the intro splash screen for the next Chapter. Making a dark bargain with the drow, we see that they have captured surface elves, one of whom immediately refers to Irenicus as Joneleth, suggesting a backstory far deeper as Irenicus immediately resorts to killing the prisoner after being the one to suggest interrogation instead of immediate execution, a lashing out that seems out of character for the clinically-detached evil villain we’ve been coming to know. The backstory is clear in the Forgotten Realms, the dark elves and surface elves are mortal foes and anyone who is known to the surface elves to ally with the dark elves is a great betrayal. As the PC goes through the Underdark and comes out, they are captured by the surface elves. Through a conversation with Eldoth, it can become evident that the surface elves know more than they are letting on, such as when they are the ones who suggest holy water and stakes to fight Bodhi, despite not knowing anything about either one of them. After you slay Bodhi and restore Imoen’s soul to its rightful place, you can call Eldoth out on it. Irenicus is “the Shattered One,” an exile of the elves, and it’s here that Irenicus’s story becomes apparent.

Irenicus was a powerful wizard and lover of Queen Ellesime named Joneleth. Yet in his heart, Joneleth yearned for more power and sought to take the essence of the Tree of Life, the lifeblood of the city of Suldanesselar, for himself and Bodhi. This dark ritual nearly killed many that existed within Suldanesselar, and so Joneleth and Bodhi were punished, stripping their elven nature and immortality away from them, leaving them with a mortal lifespan, thus Joneleth became Jon Irenicus, the Shattered One. Bodhi sought to become a vampire to transgress the mortal years she had, but Jon had felt that it degraded her to that of a high-functioning beast. Irenicus’s scheme was far more grandiose if also possessing an elegant simplicity: he lost an immortal soul and so he needed to take one for himself. The Bhaalspawn was the perfect choice, powerful enough to defeat Sarevok and awaken the power within, weak enough to be captured and have the divine soul snatched away. With his stolen soul freshly acquired, Irenicus now looked to the second part of himself, to revenge himself on the elves. The dark elf invasion ultimately failed, helped out by the PC butchering the leadership of Ust Natha, but Irenicus is still going with golems and summoned demons to destroy the city, usurp the power of the Tree of Life, and complete his long ago schemes. 

I... I do not remember your love, Ellesime. I have tried. I have tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory, but it is gone... a hollow, dead thing. For years, I clung to the memory of it. Then the memory of the memory. And then nothing. The Seldarine took that from me, too. I look upon you and feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others. Once my thirst for power was everything. And now I hunger only for revenge. And I... WILL... HAVE IT!!

When confronted by Queen Ellesime, she even asks if there was any part of him that remembered the love he had for her, and the PC sees that it’s her that was in his mind for the beautiful bedroom way back in chapter one. It was almost certainly her that Irenicus thought of when he was with his dryad concubines. And when she poses that question, he answers with the above quote, that he feels nothing. While it seems like this is a loss of depth, that he’s just a flat character, I don’t think this is the case. Irenicus had the chance to change, for self-reflection. Instead, he remembers it as all the others turning their back on him, without any recognition that his schemes nearly killed them. It’s the classic abuser mentality, how dare you make me do these things to you. When his victims tried to defend themselves, he lashed out and remembers only their ‘cruelty’ to him. It’s this that makes Irenicus, for all his great arcane might, so small. Where before he was this intimidating figure, now he’s a petty man, and fittingly, it’s here that you can kill him. Temporarily, at least, because there’s still one more dungeon. Irenicus and you are still battling for your divine soul, and after a few self-reflective quests of your own, you duel Irenicus, who dies pitiably, torn to shreds by demons as his power fails him. It fits the heroic and thematic heft of the arc. As you grow in power, Irenicus diminishes in threat. He was your torturer, an inhuman menace, then he became just a man, torn apart by tiny demons that you probably could take down by the truckload. 

There’s good things to learn here. Irenicus isn’t a super-unique villain, although some of the villain tropes are personalized for the sake of the Baldur’s Gate story specifics. But he does his job admirably. David Warner’s voice work, and the special effects (pretty good for when the game came out in 2000) really was able to sell Irenicus as an enjoyable villain. 

Thanks for the suggestions, Anons who were looking forward to this.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[simplybakugou]

The Villain -- Ch. 9: Quirkless

A/N: wow look at me posting a new chapter and not making you guys wait a whole ass year for it

Pairing: villain!bakugou x female!reader

Warnings: swearing; violence

Word Count: 2,381

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

LINKS TO NEW CHAPTERS

✐posted 06.05.2020✐

Short, weak breaths escaped from your lips, panting to regain consciousness and air. A stabbing and piercing sensation hit the back of your head. You moved your arm to touch the damaged area but were pulled back from the restraints refraining you from moving your limbs. Ropes tied around your arms and each finger held you back from moving and your legs were tied to the chair you were sitting on. It was evident that it was used to keep you from using your quirk. The room was dim except for a singular light shining on you as you squinted, trying to see something.

The door swung open, making your gut churn. You could see Kurogiri’s shadowy figure as he stepped behind the bar-like area, watching closely at the second person who had followed him inside.

“It’s been a while, (H/N),” Kurogiri stated simply, nodding at you as the last time you had been near him was back when the League attacked you and the rest of class 1A. “It’s a shame you had to get in the middle of all this.”

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “And let you idiots get away with whatever the hell it is you’re planning?”

The second figure approached you, getting close enough to caress your cheek, sending a disgusted shiver down your spine. The shadow from the light was casted over their face, leaving you unable to decipher who it was. “It’s a shame it had to be this way, I really thought you were worthy.”

You felt your blood run cold, your heart beating rapidly against your chest. That voice… no, it can’t be…

“I really did care for you, Y/N,” Natsuya said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I could’ve convinced you to join us but you just had to snoop around like that old chicken hero.”

“There’s no way,” you whispered. “No, tell me it’s not true…”

Natsuya smirked, looking down at you with glazing golden eyes. “You were always too trusting, Y/N. You made it too easy to deceive you.”

You were speechless, but mostly heartbroken. Your best friend, your boyfriend, the closest person in your life. He had been there for you for everything, he comforted you when no one else could. And yet he was here now stabbing you in the back?

He chuckled, reaching down and holding a lock of your hair in his hands, running his fingers through the strands. “You’re probably thinking ‘why’, am I right? Oh, there’s no point in me asking, I know you too well.”

“Why, Natsuya?” You asked aggressively, your voice raising in sound. “What is the meaning of all of this?!”

He twirled your hair around his finger. “It’s simple really. You know how much I’ve disliked heroes, I’ve tried to make you come to your senses about your job countless times, but you never listened. It was always about ‘wanting to save the innocent’ but we all know that you lousy heroes will take any excuse to abuse your quirks.”

He tugged at your hair, causing you to wince slightly. He smiled. “I was born quirkless. I was born with a handicap and yet I was surrounded by overzealous fools wanting to show off their powers to the weaker ones. And yet so many people lose their lives because of these quirks and yet no one does anything to reduce these deaths.”

You glared up at him as he came closer, bringing the lock of hair right under his nostrils and inhaling deeply. “You smell just like her. Your mother, she was killed because of these quirks.”

You gritted your teeth, angry that he would even think of bringing your mother into this and also creeped out by his odd behavior. “You have no right to punish other people just because you’re jealous of their quirks. You’re the one at fault and you should be held accountable for your actions! No one’s at fault for you being quirkless and you can’t use that as an excuse to hurt innocent lives!”

Natsuya hummed curiously. “Is that so?” He released your hair from his hand, raising it back and slapping you across the face. You grimaced, your cheek stinging from the contact of his palm with your face.

A sinister laugh erupted from him as he stared down at your pained expression with glee. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long!” He reached down and rubbed the skin that he had struck, causing you to cringe in fear and disgust. You had never felt so uncomfortable around someone so dear to you. 

“You look just like her,” Natsuya uttered lowly, running his thumb up and down your cheek. “Your mother was a true hero. But you didn’t deserve her. I did.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. If you thought he was insane before, you had no idea what he was going on about now.

“I’ve loved your mother more than anyone has ever loved a person. And she loved me, I know she did,” Natsuya insisted, his delusions setting in. “And that’s why I killed him, killed that old Shigaraki idiot for killing her. He took her away from me, my lovely woman.”

“And so I infiltrated the League, and killed him.” His golden eyes that once shined so brightly with love looked lifeless as they stared down at you. “But good ole Kurogiri saw me do it, and obviously I couldn’t get caught. I was just appointed Chief of Police, I couldn’t have that blood on my hands! And he offered me the idea to be on the sidelines and let the idiot who’s always throwing temper tantrums to take all the blame for me. It was perfect and here I am still getting away with it!”

You narrowed your eyes up at him with every ounce of hatred you could muster. “My mother loved you like she loved me. She never saw you more than a son! You’re being delusional! You’re insane! And you’ll never get away with this!”

The grin on his face faltered and disappeared completely. He bore his eyes into you with no mercy behind them. “Kurogiri, please leave.”

“As you wish,” Kurogiri stated, walking down the bar and exiting the room.

Natsuya lowered himself so that he was eye level with you. “Now there won’t be any witnesses so I can torture you as much as I like.”

You looked at him hopelessly. This whole situation was crazy, and it was still difficult for you to understand Natsuya’s motive for his actions. “Why do you hate me, Tsuya? Why do you hate innocent civilians who did nothing to you?!”

He cackled, running a hand through your hair. “You want to talk about innocence now? Why don’t we start with that idiot of yours, the one you truly love. The one who went along with all of the attacks I was behind and the one who created his own attacks as an attempt to make sure others believed his fake identity.”

He brought his hand down in front of your stomach, pushing force into his fist as he punched your gut. You choked, your body lurching forward in pain. Natsuya grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head upwards so that you were looking right at him. “You want to talk about innocence? The only innocent person was your mother. And now here you are, having inherited her quirk, one that you’re not worthy of wielding. And that’s why I hate you, (L/N) (F/N). You should be dead, not her!”

You coughed, gasping for air from having been slightly winded by his attack but also wincing as he tugged on your hair. Through your coughs you choked out, “You don’t think that everytime I think about her, that I wish I could’ve been in her shoes. You don’t think I’ve wished for her to be alive instead of me countless times?! She’s my mother and scum like you don’t deserve to even say her name!”

Natsuya chuckled humorlessly and cruelly. “Yes, you deserve to die. So let me make your wishes come true.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, as Natsuya raised his hand up once more, ready to strike at any moment. But a strong grip on his forearm held him back and you opened your eyes, wondering what had gone wrong. A gasp left your lips as you nearly cried out of happiness from the sight before you.

“Like I’d let you touch another hair on her shitty head, fucker,” Bakugou grunted, his fingers curling around Natsuya forearm.

Natsuya scoffed, annoyed and aggravated that Bakugou of all people had interfered. He shook his arm free, throwing a punch towards Bakugou who easily evaded his attack by jumping back. “How’d you get in here?”

Bakugou smirked, glowering at him. “Warp Gate fucker’s easy to follow, you know. You should’ve sided with someone that doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb, dumbass.”

Bakugou got closer to Natsuya swiftly and sent a blast right in front of his face. Natsuya screamed in pain, the impact sending him flying to the wall and landing to the floor with a thud. You coughed as the smoke from the explosion entered your nostrils. In close combat, quirkless Natsuya was no match for Bakugou. 

You felt Bakugou’s arm around you as he leaned over and broke you free from the restraining ropes. You rubbed your wrists and fingers as they ached and Bakugou knelt down at your feet and released them as well. You glanced over at Natsuya, Bakugou reassuring you. “That’s fucker’s not gettin’ up anytime soon. He’s probably out cold right now.”

Regardless of his words, you continued to look cautiously at Natsuya’s body on the floor. You had an inkling that it would be even more difficult for him to recover from Bakugou’s attack as he was quirkless, making his body less prone to these kinds of attacks.

You stood to your feet once Bakugou had completely freed you. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou blankly stared at you for a moment, his cheeks tinting slightly as he was thankful for the poor lighting in the room for you to take notice. “Whatever, let’s just get the fuck outta here.”

You nodded, continuing to watch Natsuya as Bakugou made his way towards the exit. You gasped as you could faintly makeout Natsuya’s arm slyly reach into his pocket, grabbing something in his hand. He sprung up suddenly, rushing over to impale Bakugou in the back with the object.

“Katsuki, look out!” You screamed, deciding to take action before your words could reach him. Everything happened in slow motion as Bakugou turned around, stunned by what was going on and you pushed him to the side. Pain seared through your shoulder and Natsuya stabbed you with the needle in his hand, pressing down on the syringe and filling the liquid into your body.

You winced in pain from the sting of the needle, feeling your heart racing in your chest as Natsuya cackled. Bakugou snarled at him, quickly moving to reprimand him, tackling him to the floor. His foot was stern on Natsuya’s chest, a hand to his neck, ready at any moment to send a blast to the area. “What the fuck did you do?!”

Natsuya chuckled, glaring up at Bakugou. “It’s so funny. My whole life I was mocked for being quirkless, was told that I was better off having a low level job because of it. It always pissed me off how people like you and her were given quirks.”

He lifted his head slightly to peer at you. Your chest felt tight as you placed your hand against it, choking over a strange sensation occurring in your body. “You never deserved your mother’s quirk. It’s only fitting that we’re both quirkless now!”

Bakugou’s hold against Natsuya’s neck tightened, fingers digging into his skin. You were aghast, absolutely horrified. You had heard only stories about the Quirk-Destroying Drug, not hearing much of it before Hawks’ situation. In the past it was believed to have a serum that was a remedy and could return the quirk to the user but those serums were lost, never having been found for years. To make matters worse, the drug was mainly distributed through bullets, and now Natsuya had somehow gotten hold of this terrifying substance through other ways. 

Bakugou refrained from doing much harm to Natsuya no matter how badly he wanted to inflict more damage, only squeezing around Natsuya who was choking profusely to knock him out for good this time. Once confirming that he was passed out, Bakugou rose from his position, not hesitating to go to your side. Your legs gave way underneath you, buckling as you nearly hit the floor if it weren’t for Bakugou who was quick to catch you with his arm around your shoulders.

You stared down at your hands as they shook in shock. Bakugou examined you for a moment, trying to muster the right words in this unbelievable turn of events. “Are you alright?”

You chuckled humorlessly, your eyes glazing over in tears. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.”

Bakugou stood to his feet, propping you up to your own feet in the process. “Call the authorities; we’ve got to turn this fucker in. And while we’re at it… I’m turning myself in.”

You gaped over at him, your hands reaching for his shoulders in confusion. “No, you can’t! There’s no way they’ll let you go!”

Bakugou sighed. “Don’t worry about me, idiot. I’ve got Hawks and the Hero Commission backing me up. First, we’ve gotta get you to a hospital or something. I don’t know what the fuck that drug can do to your body. And you look fucking awful right now.”

You could only watch on as Bakugou moved to grab the rope that was used against you and tie it around Natsuya’s wrists for safe measure. He glanced over at you, realizing that you had no intention of calling the authorities if it meant jeopardizing his freedom and pulled his phone out, deciding to do it himself. 

He didn’t care what the consequences were; his job was finally finished, and he was finally free.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies​ @bokunoheroes-stories​ @iamthe-leaf​ @simplysymphonic​ @mylittlesunshineblog​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @sunflowerchild27​ @geesshoku​ @ghoularaki​ @katsukiwonu​ @kotakingly​ @tyongflight​ @sparkexplosive​ @minniepresents​ @thorohdamnson​ @icy-hot​ @bikinibrattoms​

[bichlordstories]

7: Daddy bento

“(L/n)-san, before you head off to lunch, I need to see you for a moment.” Sekijiro said.

He could briefly see a bit of a scowl you failed to hide before forcing your frown away. From the first week he got to know you from simply teaching the class, he learned that you were terrible at hiding your true feelings, though sometimes it seemed like you weren’t even trying.

He could tell you had a temper, he even seen you getting rough with the other students, especially that silver haired kid, Tetsutetsu. You weren’t directly going after them, in fact, you never really started things. And to make it worse, Tetsutetsu was coming back to you, losing a bit of his temper himself.

Unlike him, however, you were more of a ticking time bomb.

You didn’t go off out of nowhere, and your motives weren’t very predictable. You waited for the person to finish (usually) before striking. You always had a blank but annoyed expression when hurting the ones that mildly inconvenienced you on purpose. And today was worse.

“Yes?” You said in a rather rude tone, earning a raised eyebrow from the teacher.

“...sir.” You corrected.

“I wanted to address your behavior.” The man said simply before pointing to the chair next to his desk.

You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sat down.

“Before you start, Sekijiro-sensei, I just want to note that they started it first.” You said.

Seikijiro sighed and began rubbing his temples.

“Yes. That is true. But that shouldn’t warrant your behavior, (L/n)-san. You need to have better control of yourself, or your actions may lead to dire consequences in the future.” He said in a stern tone.

You looked to the ground, a deep frown evident on your face.

“(L/n)-san... you have a lot of potential. Your physical abilities are outstanding, you take things very seriously in every single test I have given you, and you’ve only been here for a few weeks. I want to help you become one of the greatest heroes of our time, but I need you to work with me here.” He said, this time in a softer tone.

��...ok.” You said.

He leaned back in his chair with a long exhale before continuing.

“If your behavior continues, I will have to have you do counseling, understood?”

“Yes sir.” You said and got up, ready to leave the classroom before the man stopped you.

“Oh, before you go, you’ll have to do some tutoring as well.”

This caught you off guard, to say the least. Before you could ask him what he meant, he spoke once more.

“Although you are passing, you are barely. Out of everyone here, you have the lowest grades, specifically in math. The other subjects have acceptable grades, but I know you can do better.” He said.

“Meet me after school in class, we’ll discuss more.”

And with that, he dismissed you, finally letting you leave the classroom. You opened the door, wanting nothing more than to eat after losing your egg sandwich that morning before walking head first into somebody’s chest.

At first, you thought it was a tall woman, seeing that your face was met with big tits, until you backed away to find two blonde hairs sticking up like rabbit ears.

“All Might.” You said.

The man flashed you a surprised look, smile crooked and nervous.

“Oh, hello there! I’m just passing by, wanted to talk to your teacher!”

You cocked an eyebrow at the blonde before moving to the side to leave.

“Yeah, he’s in there.” You said with a flat tone.

Once again, you left the blonde man to stand awkwardly in a hallway.

“Class 1A is getting a lot of attention lately.”

“Yeah? What’s so good about them anyway?”

“They must have done something so amazing that it got people’s attention.” Someone whispered in a sarcastic tone.

“Like surviving an attack?” You said out loud, drawing the attention of others, including class 1A, who were being blocked by the large group of students.

This whole day wasn’t going your way at all, first you lost your egg sandwich, and then you had to be forced into tutoring by your homeroom teacher. What especially didn’t improve your mood was the rumors of class 1A.

And now look where those rumors led people. In the middle of the hallway, blocking your path in front of class 1A. You had tutoring to go to, and they were not fucking helping.

“They were attacked by villains. They could have died, their teacher had injuries all over him. The fact that they made it out alive without wounds is a miracle.”

A familiar face turned toward you with a mild scowl.

“That doesn’t give them the right to treat the rest of us like garbage.” Shinsou said.

“When did they say anything? What did they do to insinuate that everyone else was trash.” You said.

A student next to you butted in nervously, rubbing his arm.

“W-well that blonde guy-“

“The blonde guy?” You interrupted.

The student looked at you startled, but you continued.

“What about that girl behind him? Did she say something?”

“Uh-“

“And four eyes? He doesn’t look like one to cuss a storm, hell, he looks like he would faint at the word ‘vagina’.”

The said blue haired teen flustered at the word and was about to scold you before Midoriya grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

“Did anyone else say anything.” You said to the crowd.

Everyone else looked toward each other, some looking down while others looked to Shinsou and the class with guilt.

“No? Just the blonde? I mean, wow, if the blonde is an asshole, that must mean everyone else in this goddamn school are stuck up pricks.” You spat their logic back into their faces, earning some grimaces.

“Let me remind you that they could have died. Their parents could have had the bodies of their children sent home to them. Siblings would have lost a brother or sister. A friend would have had to watch their friend be lowered in their grave. They’re still kids. We all are. So get your heads out of your own asses and move.” You said before shoving through the crowd of embarrassed and ashamed students.

After a whole day of missing breakfast and only getting a few bites of lunch, you were starving, cranky, and all around just not having a good day.

You met your homeroom teacher in class 1B. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Although you hid your embarrassment well, you still stood awkwardly in the door. You knew you were the only one getting tutoring out of everyone else.

Why did you have to be so dumb???

“You’re not dumb.”

Shit, you must have said that out loud! Sekijiro-sensei gestured to a seat and stood up from his to approach you.

“People have different ways of learning, and yours isn’t through reading a textbook.” He said.

“I am observant, and I’ve seen you reading textbooks when there’s nothing to do. I’ve seen you struggling to focus as well.”

You looked down at the desk you were sitting in, quietly trying to chip away the edge. Your face twisted into what he could tell was a saddened frown, much different from the usual scowls you gave people. It was obvious that it bothered you to no end that you got almost nothing out of reading. His own expression softened a bit once seeing you crack a bit before sitting down in the seat next to you.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll admit that I struggled with reading when I was your age. Sometimes I still do have problems today.”

You slowly lifted your head and gave him a side glance. He clearly got your attention that time. Knowing that he was able to connect with you further, he began speaking more before something low and guttural resounded within the room.

You froze immediately and turned your head away from him, clearly embarrassed by your organ angrily rumbling at you for food.

The man paused at this before getting up and walking towards his desk. He grabbed a white container and placed it in front of you before sitting back in the desk next to you. You stared at the bento in front of you and then to your teacher.

“Sekijiro-sensei...?”

“Go ahead and eat, kid. You clearly need it after today.” He said before his eyes widened.

“Unless you’re allergic to certain foods...”

You muttered out a no and looked back down at the bento.

“Go ahead, I already ate lunch, that was for later tonight.” He said.

You still hesitated before opening it, being met with a delightful sight. Grilled fish, fried brown rice with vegetables inside, and other greens. You slowly grabbed the chop sticks and looked back to the man, who nodded at you to eat what was in front of you.

And you did just that. At first, you slowly picked at certain foods inside the bento before eating in a more comfortable pace. Sekijiro could see that you were still tense, afraid almost, but he waved it off in his mind.

“...you’re wife did a good job.” You said after finishing.

“I made that myself actually. I don’t have a wife.”

You looked over at the man with surprised look before covering it up and placing the chopsticks across the bento politely.

“Thank you, sir.”

The man flashed you a smile and said that it was no problem before getting up and grabbing a piece of paper, your failed math assignment, and began going over it with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad King is one of the most underrated daddy material in MHA. Seriously. He’s Endeavour if Endeavour was actually a great fucking father (but he ain’t sadly... still love the fire fart, but he excretes small dick energy).

Gotta love blood daddy.

[just-incorrect-bnha]

BnHA Fic Recs (Part 1)

all of these are on ao3. please make sure you read the warnings and check the ratings before you read them. this list was made march 2020 so some of the word counts and dates might not be accurate for long

i broke this up into two parts because it’s kinda long, the second part can be found here

the light is fading (but i'm still here) by IceEckos12

Midoriya centric

Status: One shot/completed

Words: 8.4k

Izuku wakes up under the effects of a strange, dangerous quirk.

With no way to contact his allies or interact with the world around him, he is quickly plunged into a race against the clock to save his own life.

Sink to Swim by cinnabee

Bakugou centric, Midoriya centric, Bakudeku

Status: Completed

Words: 35k

“Kacchan, I think we’re supposed to--”

“Supposed to?” Katsuki whirled. “Supposed to? Will you fucking.. Listen to yourself? Shitty Deku, we just woke up in a dungeon and you want to play some villain’s game? Like it’s a goddamn puzzle we can just solve?”

~

As if there's any other choice.

mouth shut (eyes down) by carolinaa

Midoriya centric, Dadzawa

Status: One shot/completed

Words: 5.8k

Teachers and Izuku don't mesh well. If Izuku speaks up, he gets in trouble. If Izuku gets picked on, he gets in trouble. If Izuku lets his guard down for one second, he gets in trouble.

Izuku isn't stupid. He knows UA isn't going to be any different.

Useless Monster by MuteCrows (Deanassbutts)

Midoriya centric, Monster Midoriya, Quirk Midoriya, Dad Might, Dadzawa

Status: Updated 2020-03-02

Words: 79k+

Izuku had vague memories of how his family used to be. He could remember when he had a home, a warm bed, and steady diet. These memories were muddled, overshadowed by the burden of no longer having a place in society’s unseeing eyes. For where was a monster like himself supposed to fit into a judgmental space like that?

Child's Play by Le0na

Inspired by Useless Monster, Midoriya centric, Monster Midoriya

Status: Completed

Words: 8.9k

Animal control officers are trained to deal with all sorts of creatures, quirk or no quirk. These are the accounts of an officer who encountered something the weren't briefed for.

Izuku wanted to survive. He wanted to help people. That's all he ever wanted. Can't they just let him?

Canary by cloud_nine_and_three_quarters

Midoriya centric, Quirk Midoriya, Midoriya & Shinsou, Midoriya & Present Mic

Status: Completed

Words: 291k

Midoriya Izuku is Quirkless. Well, he thought was. That was until he opened his mouth to sing.

There is more power in Midoriya's singing than he could have ever dreamed of - a power truly worthy of a hero. But will he ever have the confidence to spread his wings and soar?

Follow Canary on his journey to find his voice and become the hero he was always meant to be.

To Bargain With Faust by cricketmilk

Fantasy AU, Midoriya centric, Tododeku, Monster Midoriya

Status: Completed

Words: 42k

Impulsive decisions are what brings them together. A prince, determined to enter forbidden lands to pursue a voice that accompanies the moon. A beast, too eager to fight for everything he wishes to protect. Actions have consequences, and the price of magic might just make everything worse. The Liar Princess and The Blind Prince AU.

Pied Piper by Blackhole_Called_Anime

Midoriya centric, Vigilante Midoriya

Status: Updated 2020-03-05

Words: 113k

If they wouldn’t give him a chance then the solution seemed simple, he’d give himself one. He’d force the world to see him, force them to recognize his hard work. He wasn’t missing a quirk, it was simply that everyone else had been given an advantage. He wasn’t broken, or useless, or incapable, and he’d prove it by outrunning all of them, he who was quirkless, he who had started in last.

release the dogs of war by IceEckos12

Alternate dimensions, Midoriya centric, Tododeku, Dad Might, Dadzawa

Status: First part completed, second part in progress

Words: 44k (first part)

Izuku is a dimension hopper who accidentally breaks his arm after a rough jump, leaving him helpless in this strange new world.

And then he finds out about the superpowers. Well if he wants to get specific, quirks.

If there's one place where a super-powered quasi-immortal technology stealing jerk would be hanging out…

A Dangerous Game by tsukithewolf

Midoriya & Bakugou, Villain Midoriya

Status: Part 1 completed, part 2 updated 2020-03-02

Words: 472k (part 1), 95k+ (part 2)

When Midoriya Izuku is 13 years old, he is kidnapped on his way home from school by a villain. One year later he is found and returned home with some scars, no memories of the events he went through, and a latent fire quirk.

Izuku has to live a double life if he and his loved ones are to survive, even if that means lying to everyone and committing deeds that he’s not sure the heroes would forgive him for. He just needs to come up with a plan to defeat one of the most powerful men in the world, maintain both of his covers in the presence of enemies and allies alike, and hopefully not forget the “real” him.

Bakugou Katsuki is certain that Izuku has been lying to everyone since the day he had been rescued. And he’s going to figure out his secret.

The Last Resort by coldandhotsoba

Shinsou centric, Dadzawa, Erasermic

Status: Updated 2019-11-09

Words: 163k+

“Mommy? Where are we going?” Shinsou asks as he was strapped into his car seat. He looked up quizzically at his mom as she gave him a backpack stuffed with clothes and his favorite plush cat.

“We are just going to a trip to see some of mommy’s friends okay?” She replied, giving him a small sad smile

Or

Shinsou gets sold off to villains when hes a kid. They rent him his quirk out to other villains for a profit.

The Wards of UA by FeckedSpectrum

Shinsou centric, Dadzawa, Erasermic

Status: Updated 2020-03-01

Words: 312k+

27’s throat tightens, as if any words he could have thought to say are trapped there. If it weren’t for Memory’s nails digging into his wrist, he would probably have stood there all night, trying to understand what they wanted him to do.

Use his quirk on a child. A tiny, frightened child.

He kneels down, trying to get her to look him in the eye, to make some kind of connection. Anything to try and make her answer. “D-do you want to go away? Do you want to go somewhere safe?”

Her eyes open, slowly, and the sobbing slows enough that she isn’t shaking with it quite as much. Her hands are lowering from her mouth.

“Uh-huh.”

Her voice, so small and hoarse, is all he needs. He feels the quirk trap around her mind, and her eyes fade from red to white, hands dropping slack by her side.

***

This work is based off of The Last Resort, written by coldandhotsoba. In this AU, after Shinsou Hitoshi is sold to The Miasma, The Miasma sells him to Overhaul to fill the role of "The Mediator" for Eri. Even after the raid on the 8 Precepts, the wards are haunted by their pasts, but the ghosts in Shinsou's mind are anything but dead.

and i'm nothing like you by aloneintherain

Shinsou centric, Shinosu & Midoriya

Status: One shot/completed

Words: 9.3k

Of all the people to have been kidnapped alongside, it had to be this person, this hero, the one person who would never blame him for the things he was forced to do.

“Don’t cry,” Midoriya says.

“Fuck you,” Hitoshi chokes out.

(When Shinsou goes grocery shopping a few weeks after transferring to Class 2A, Midoriya tags along. Because he is, for some reason, determined to be Shinsou’s friend.

Shinsou remains cold and withdrawn in the face of Midoriya’s friendliness—until they’re kidnapped by a woman with a brainwashing quirk who believes Shinsou doesn’t belong in the hero course.)

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner

Midoriya centric, Dad Might, Horror

Status: Updated 2020-03-27

Words: 167k+

The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

a complete list of everything I've ever been afraid of by aloneintherain

Midoriya centric, Dadzawa, Horror

Status: Updated 2019-07-05

Words: 18.5k+

Midoriya is drugged by a villain during a raid, but old and new fears, along with the manufactured anxiety the drug produces, urges him to keep his condition hidden.

He's determined to keep this a secret in the long days ahead - even after the hallucinations start. Even after his worst nightmares are played out around campus, so vividly that he begins to lose track of what is and isn’t real.

when march brings rain by Crocodillia

Todoroki centric, Tododeku, AU, Bodyswap, Kiribaku

Status: Updated 2019-11-24

Words: 54.5k+

“I’m a person who wakes up in a new body every day - always my age, never too far away from the last, and I'm never the same person twice.”

“No - it’s not possible -”

“Remember when Katsuki kissed you on the beach? That was me.”

In which a boy falls in love with someone who switches bodies every day. (Every Day AU).

(may the bridges i have burned) light my way back home by Chrome

Midoriya centric, Bakudeku, Canon compliant

Status: Updated 2019-10-04

Words: 42.1k+

Since Bakugou Katsuki discovered the secret of One for All, he and Midoriya Izuku have been slowly repairing the friendship they once had. They still haven’t talked about it—but Izuku’s certain that it’s only a matter of time before they manage to lay the past to rest.

But when the League of Villains attack the Sports Festival and Bakugou takes a devastating blow meant for Izuku, the whole nation is suddenly paying attention to a relationship the two people involved barely understand. Izuku needs more than ever to figure out who he and Kacchan are to each other—preferably before the internet does.

or,

“Fuck you,” Bakugou said. “I don’t need a whole face to kick your ass.”

in death, at the end of the world by theroyalsavage

Midoriya centric, Tododeku, Ghost hunters AU

Status: Completed

Words: 22.4k

Over the course of what was supposed to be a routine job, Paranormal Investigator Midoriya Izuku uncovers a long-forgotten curse, meets a shadow with the voice and eyes of a boy, and discovers a plot that has the potential to destroy the entire world.

Not necessarily in that order.

The Mystery of Student No.18 by cloud_nine_and_three_quarters

Midoriya centric, Ghost Midoriya

Status: Completed

Words: 85.2k

Getting crushed by falling building whilst shielding a little girl wasn't the worst way to die. Only, Midoriya's not quite dead yet.

He still has so much to prove - to do - to finish! All Might gave him his power, but now look at him... how is Midoriya meant to be the next symbol of peace if he's stuck in a coma?!

Meanwhile, his future classmates are left to wonder...

Who is student 18?

And where is he now?

Beast Among Men by cricketmilk

Todoroki centric, Tododeku, Fantasy AU, Dragon Todoroki

Status: Updated 2019-09-04

Words: 63.4k+

Unsure of specifics, he can’t quite puzzle together what he is; the only information that crowds his brain is that he is not what he’s supposed to be, and his strongest impulsive desire is not his own. And most importantly, the dark haired human he’s found is the key to answering most of his problems.

Or

Todoroki joins the Deku Squad – with a twist. Medieval Fantasy AU.

A deadman's gun by NohaIjiachi

Midoriya centric, Vigilante Midoriya, Quirkless Midoriya, Stain & Midoriya

Status: Completed

Words: 65.1k

“I—“ Izuku hesitated, gaping wordlessly, before admitting softly. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to go home. There’s nothing for me, there.”

“So you filled this hole by playing detective— And how long is that going to last, I wonder?” Stain replied, still massaging his chin. “But you— You have potential.”

Izuku blinked at Stain’s chest, before looking up. “Excuse me?”

“What a waste would it be, to let you become a red splatter on the sidewalk.” Stain continued, almost contemplating. “No. No, kid, what you need is a new purpose. Your old one is gone? Well, time to get off your ass and find something else—“

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

Class 1-A, Canon compliant, Dadzawa

Status: Updated 2020-03-13

Words: 68.5k+

There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh

Dimension travel, Midoriya centric, Villain Midoirya (kinda)

Status: Completed

Words: 42.2k

“Yes,” All for One agreed. “This will be the final resting place of All Might.”

“You,” Midoriya Izuku said and paused, thinking over the words. He sounded taken aback. “You want me to help fight All Might.”

“Of course,” All for One nodded along. “I can offer you double of whatever my counterpart is paying you currently, along with anything your little heart could desire. Of course, you would get to help out drastically—"

“Did you happen to check what world you were pulling me out of when you did this?” Midoriya Izuku interrupted and it was said in such an incredulous tone that had the situation not been as critical as it was, All Might would have laughed.

Also known as: number one hero Deku has been through a lot of things, but being thrust into an alternate reality where he’s All for One’s Successor is a first. He has to navigate this world when his alternate self is a villain dead-set on killing him and all of this version of class 1-A. All the while, his friends search desperately for a way to get him back.

And I Burn by IiIia

Kaminari centric, Traitor Kaminari, Shinkami, Soulmates AU

Status: Completed

Words: 29.8k

He turns the sink handle until hot water spews from the faucet. The heat burns and stings, but he keeps rubbing his hands together trying to wash the blood off. He can’t. Never will.

His hands are stained red. His thigh stings under sharp fingernails, and there’s a small cut just above his jaw.

And he’s eleven the first time he wished he didn’t have a soulmate.

Lying Eyes by kixotical

Kaminari centric, Traitor kaminari

Status: Updated 2020-03-01

Words: 59.1k+

If you asked anyone in class 1-A what they thought of Denki Kaminari, it would most likely be around the same answers: very flirty and outgoing, not being afraid to show his excitement for something. Maybe he's not the brightest bulb in the box and has a bit of a mischievous side to him, but he's still able to make everyone laugh when he shows his brainless side after going over his wattage limit. No matter what, he's one of the closest members of class 1-A.

No one would have guessed that it was all a lie.

No one would have thought that it was all a con, a front to lower everyone's expectations so that he could carry out what he needed to do.

No one would have thought that Denki Kaminari, the loveable idiot from class 1-A, had been working to betray them all.

AU where Kaminari is the U.A. traitor as well as a psychopath.

A Dysfunctional Family but a Family Nonetheless by teaandtumblr

Aizawa centric, Dadzawa

Status: Completed

Words: 47.1k

Aizawa doesn't care about his students. He really, really doesn't.

Except for the part where he very much does.

Engraved in your Mind by Hejter

Bakugou centric, Kiribaku, Face blind Bakugou

Status: Updated 2020-03-20

Words: 234k+

Bakugou Katsuki lost his ability to recognize faces, so he didn’t know any of the people who stared at him, but he knew what dread looks like when he sees it, and as he looked around the crowd, every single person had exactly that written all over their face.

He looked down at the guy who was still on the ground, part of his uniform’s shirt burnt, his wounded face covered by his hands and his hair smoking slightly.

Katsuki glanced at his hands and finally realized something.

or

Kacchan is still a stubborn prick while suffering from face blindness. Also, quirk discrimination is a thing.

alternatively-

New quirk, who dis

Death Need Not Apply by Salt00

Midoriya centric, Quirk Midoriya, Horror, Crack

Status: Updated 2019-09-06

Words: 50.7k+

No one noticed when Midoriya Izuku manifested his quirk. However, it didn't take long for people to take notice of the effects. It was very hard to ignore, after all. The denizens of Mustafa adapted fast to this change in the laws of reality-- that's the way of quirk society, after all. Still, no one thought the plain-looking boy might be connected.

Izuku's quirk emits a massive no-kill zone around him.

[queenangst]

breathing room

for Aradow | read on AO3 

A tight encounter with a news reporter leaves Izuku struggling to catch his breath.

When U.A.'s gates swam into sight, Izuku's heart sank like a stone through the sea of reporters. A mass of moving people was clumped together; the flash of lights and the ebb and flow made them look like crashing, hungry waves.

Izuku bit his lip. He was running late.

A few students were making their way through the crowd of reporters, and just past them Izuku spotted teachers. He shifted his backpack on his shoulders, feeling queasy.

What would All Might do? He'd smile, definitely. In his media appearances, he seemed untouchable. He cut through the crowds easily, but no one ever felt like they were being brushed off. All Might made everything look easy, but now Izuku wondered if he minded the cameras and the lights.

Izuku swallowed. He slipped between the first few reporters, and then suddenly he was in it. A camera clicked in his face. Izuku threw an arm over his eyes and shuffled forward.

Then he remembered they were taking pictures of him, remembered All Might smiling… All Might hadn't hidden. Izuku lowered his arm and tried to smile, though he was sure it was wobbly.

"That's Midoriya Izuku, first-year in Heroics—" someone started to say.

Could they see him shaking? Izuku took a step, then another. U.A. seemed so far away.

"Can you comment on the rise in villains targeting your class?"

"Does U.A. make you feel safe?"

"—run-in with the villain at the helm of the League of Villains…"

Click. Click. Izuku's smile wavered; he tried to speak but couldn't.

"—your Quirk—"

"When All Might retired—"

Izuku choked. His legs felt like they'd turned to jelly. He forced himself forward even as he walked deeper and deeper and deeper.

"Excuse me," a reporter said, and Izuku paused on instinct to be polite.

Fingers closed around Izuku's wrist, the grip tightening but the movement lost in the swelling movement around them. The reporter—a slight woman with glasses—smiled at him, tucking her camera under her free arm.

"Um," Izuku started, "I- I'm sorry, but… but I have to—"

Get to class, his mind supplied. But the reporter had such a firm grasp on his hand. He could probably free himself. Izuku knew he was strong enough, but there was just so many people and he didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Just a question," she said, and he bobbed his head nervously, wanting to run. "Then I'll let you go."

"I guess…" Izuku took a breath. He could answer a question. It was just one.

"I'd just like to know something, Midoriya Izuku." She knew his name. "You are surrounded by heroes, but are you comfortable around them?"

Izuku could only half-think with her hand around his wrist. He rocked back on his heels.

"I… I don't think I understand…"

The reporter's eyes flashed behind her glasses. Izuku's wrist was starting to hurt. A prickling feeling crept up his arm, like it had fallen asleep.

"I don't believe that heroes can simply be… taught," she articulated, glancing in the direction of U.A.'s gates, "or that everyone who walks out of those doors is a hero. How much can you trust the people around you to help when you really need it?"

Izuku's throat tightened. Sweat made the skin under his shirt damp, made the fabric of his uniform stick uncomfortably. When Izuku opened his mouth to answer, he realized he'd begun to breathe rapidly, the air in his chest slipping away.

The reporter kept smiling at him. The prickling feeling spread. The hand around his wrist was as tight as ever. He had to respond or she wouldn't let him go, and Izuku would be late, and he couldn't— quite— get enough air…

"Please let go of my student."

Aizawa-sensei stepped smoothly between them, blocking Izuku's view of the reporter. Izuku couldn't see his face, but, oh, that was Aizawa-sensei's angry-but-controlled voice. The kind he used sometimes in class when they did stupid things, or got too loud, and meant trouble for everyone unless they behaved.

"Sensei…"

Izuku's voice quavered. He hated how pathetic he sounded to his own ears, a little short of breath and in that almost-crying voice.

Aizawa-sensei did not look at him.

"Let my student go," he said, "and do not make me say it again. You are assaulting him and disrupting his time and work. I will use force if you refuse."

The last connection between them—linked hands, a tight grip, nails digging into skin. Izuku shivered when the reporter brushed a finger along the inside of his wrist and then drew away.

"Alright," he heard the reporter say. Izuku lifted his hand to his chest, cradling it. Aizawa-sensei's presence had cleared a few of the reporters out of the way. Izuku tried not to gasp in air, taking in quiet breaths.

Aizawa-sensei had stepped completely between Izuku and the reporter now.

"Don't touch one of my students again," he said, and Izuku heard the threat in his voice. "Midoriya. Let's go."

Izuku lowered his eyes to the ground. Aizawa-sensei waited for Izuku to take the first step before following, acting like a barrier. Izuku wanted to say thank you but couldn't.

"Midoriya—" His name floated through the din. Izuku's heart raced.

"Don't listen," Aizawa-sensei started.

"—I hope you'll find the answer to my question."

They got through the gates. Through the front doors. Aizawa-sensei stopped when Izuku did, his shoulders slumping as he turned to face the wall. He couldn't look at Aizawa-sensei now that the people were gone and the discomfort was beginning to recede.

Izuku rubbed at his wrist. It was still— he could still feel… the lingering touch. He tugged at his shirt collar next, and breathed in. He was fine. There was plenty of air. It was just the crowd, and the fear, but it was over now.

"Are you alright?"

Izuku nodded.

"Did she hurt you? Do anything?"

The prickling sensation returned. He wondered if she had done anything, but… what had felt like eternity to Izuku had only been a minute or two in reality.

"She just. Asked me a question." Izuku blinked rapidly. "That's- that's all. She just asked me a question."

It was only a question.

Why hadn't Izuku been able to answer? Why had the words gotten stuck in his throat?

Aizawa-sensei was quiet for a moment. Izuku swallowed when his teacher stepped closer, close enough to see Aizawa-sensei's gaze clearly. His chest began to hurt. Aizawa-sensei was too— Izuku drew in a breath, then another.

"She put you in a dangerous situation," Aizawa-sensei said, taking two steps back. He was perceptive like that, Izuku thought, the tightness easing. He seemed to always know. "That was unacceptable. She shouldn't have touched you."

"It… it was just…"

But Izuku faltered.

He hadn't done anything to stop her, really, and she'd just wanted to ask Izuku a question. And he suddenly remembered she'd known him by name. She hadn't stopped a U.A. student… she'd stopped him.

"It was not just anything," Aizawa-sensei said, "do you understand? I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster."

"It wasn't your fault," Izuku mumbled, lowering his eyes again, "but thank you. It was just, um, a little overwhelming."

He'd let it happen, anyway.

"It wasn't your fault, either," Izuku's teacher said. "Let's get to class. Do you need to— take a minute?"

Izuku was already shaking his head. He'd woken up this morning jittery, and once he'd seen the numbers on the clock he'd had to run out the door and eat on the way. A bad start to the day that had only gotten worse. The last thing Izuku wanted was to show up even later to class, and have everyone look at him and wonder what was wrong and what had happened.

It was over. He just wanted the rest of the day to be normal. It was over.

So Izuku walked with Aizawa-sensei to class, and put the morning's incident behind him. That lasted a few precious, quiet minutes in the halls. Class had already begun, Izuku realized, and that made the halls empty save for a few others running to the right places.

Aizawa-sensei opened the door, and Izuku clutched his bag and walked in. Noise bombarded him.

"Midoriya!"

"Oh, there's sensei, look."

"We were getting kind of worried, dude."

"Actually—"

Izuku shuffled to his seat as fast as he could, ducking his head to avoid the curious eyes of his classmates. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to talk about it to anyone.

"There was a group of disruptive reporters outside the gates if you may have noticed," Aizawa-sensei said, settling behind his desk. He glanced at Izuku but then gazed out at the entire class. "First lesson of the day: even heroes have boundaries, even as public figures."

Izuku slumped forward in his seat a little, taking out his notebook and resigning himself to a long day.

Homeroom ended after a few short minutes. Aizawa had spent the time doing a quick run-down of dealing with the media. Before he left class, he went to Izuku's desk—Izuku flushed, embarrassed, heart thrumming in his throat and air short in his lungs—and asked if he was alright.

"You kept touching your chest," Aizawa-sensei said, quiet so no curious ears could hear them. Izuku shook his head. It was okay.

"I'm just, stressed, I think. I'm okay."

"Problem child…"

Aizawa-sensei watched him. Izuku's breathing hitched when Aizawa-sensei knocked his knuckles against Izuku's shoulder, but then his teacher left.

Present Mic swung in for English next, but by that time Izuku already felt exhausted.

"Good morning, listeners!"

"Good morning, Mic-sensei," the class chorused. Izuku joined them, but found himself wheezing at the end of the loud greeting. He coughed quietly into his hand; next to him, Sero glanced over and mouthed something that Izuku thought might have been are you okay. Izuku waved him off and smiled weakly. He rubbed at his chest. It felt a bit like his shirt was too tight, and his chest couldn't expand all the way.

Maybe he was getting sick. It was starting to get colder. That sounded right—he'd spent the weekend at home with Mom instead of the dorms, and they'd gone outside quite a bit. He must have caught something. Izuku touched his chest again and then began to follow along as Mic-sensei launched into teaching.

Izuku copied down what Mic-sensei was writing on the board, muttering the words quietly to himself until he realized he couldn't keep going and stopped. He sucked in a breath, pulling his chair forward and gripping his pencil tightly. After seventh period, or maybe during lunch, he'd go sit somewhere quiet. Just long enough to recharge so he could get through the rest of the day.

He blinked. Class had ended in an instant.

Izuku glanced down at his paper, and the end of his pencil snapped against the desk. On it the English sentences he'd lined up neatly had dissolved into the same words over and over again: How much can you trust the people around you to help when you really need it?

How much can you trust the people around you to help?

How much can you trust the people around you?

How much can you trust?

Izuku's hands shook. Again, the prickling sensation; he stood abruptly, and his chair went rolling back to hit Mineta's desk with a loud impact. Izuku tore the sheet from his notebook and crumpled it. His hands were still shaky when he tottered to the front of the classroom to throw it away.

Smudged white paper dropped into the bin. Izuku tucked his hands together, ignoring the feeling along the back of his neck that meant people were watching him. Soft chatter rose between the seats.

Izuku could breathe again. He walked back to his desk and felt his breath shorten when he accidentally met Kacchan's gaze, pausing by his friend's desk.

Kacchan kicked at Izuku's ankles. His ribs constricted, and Izuku scrambled to his seat. The pressure in his chest remained as Kacchan swung around.

"What were you looking at?"

"Kacchan," Izuku sighed, shoving his broken pencil in his desk and retrieving another. Kacchan's eye twitched. He frowned at Izuku, brows furrowing in slight confusion though Izuku had no idea why.

"Deku…"

Kacchan narrowed his eyes, then suddenly spun himself back around to face the front, his shoulders tense. Izuku bit his lip. Had he done something? What had Kacchan seen?

There wasn't any time to dwell on it, because math class started after that. Izuku stared at Kacchan's back the entire time, but didn't dare lean forward or get too close. He felt uncomfortable, loosening his tie and watching Kacchan shift in front of him. It was nothing. Kacchan didn't— he and Kacchan were fine. They'd been joking around yesterday during homeroom, even. Izuku would just ask him later if he could work up the nerve to.

Kacchan was just beginning to— figure things out lately. They'd talked a little. Living together in the same dorms, even though they were practically neighbors at home anyway, had still opened up spaces for them to just… exist. Together. Izuku wasn't going to ruin it.

When Heroics rolled around, Izuku had worked himself into a better mood. All Might was teaching today, and that always made Izuku grin. The locker room mood was light today, almost cheerful.

"I'm ready to get back to work!" Kirishima cheered, vaulting in and immediately wiggling out of his shirt. He cracked his knuckles. "Mondays we just sit all day. But today we get to show off our stuff!"

Kacchan knocked Kirishima over the head on his way to his own locker.

"Don't get cocky," he warned.

"Wonder what we're doing today…"

"Hurry up," Iida called over all of them. "Everyone into their training clothes. All Might's instructions."

No costumes today, Izuku mused. Sometimes that meant they were focusing less on running simulations and more on other things. Sometimes Aizawa-sensei had them come in their training uniforms for 'resourcefulness,' like situations where they lacked access to their equipment. Oh, maybe they were training as— as civilians, or—

"Midoriya," Iida said, materializing next to him. Izuku's breath seized, and he stumbled back, then tripped into a heap on the ground. "Ah— are you alright? I apologize for surprising… Midoriya?"

Izuku blinked up at him. Iida offered Izuku a hand up, and Izuku took it. Their hands touched, Iida's clasping around— suddenly Izuku was suffocating. He choked. There wasn't. He couldn't. Breathe.

He shoved Iida's hand away blindly and backed away. Distantly Izuku felt his chest rising and falling but couldn't feel the air in his lungs; his back hit the lockers and his vision cleared. Iida was watching with wide, worried eyes. He'd taken a few steps back; so had Izuku, and there was distance between them now.

"So- sorry—" Izuku stammered between breaths. His head was spinning.

"Are you… alright?" Iida asked, slower this time. Blue eyes watched him from—

—behind a set of glasses—

"Fine," Izuku blurted. Behind Iida he saw that over half of the boys had already finished changing and were gone; the others had turned at the commotion. "I'm fine. Thank you. I'm fine."

He quickly tossed on his clothes, shutting his locker and rushing out the door. Izuku didn't want to be late again. And he wanted everyone to stop looking at him like that.

"Hey, Midoriya," Uraraka called, waving. She was standing with Todoroki, smiling, and he smiled uneasily back. A couple of the others were standing around All Might, and Izuku spotted Aizawa-sensei, too.

"Um, hey," Izuku said. Todoroki nodded at him. "What's- what's up?"

Uraraka shrugged. "I think we're— doing pair exercises today or something." Her eyes crinkled. "I hope I- um, we get to work together. Oh, you, too, Todoroki— oh, hi, Iida!"

"What's this about pair work?" Iida asked, adjusting his glasses. Izuku shrank back a little when he felt his lungs protest at how close everyone was.

"I think we're doing pair exercises!" Uraraka's hair swung as she turned to glance at All Might and Aizawa-sensei. "Or maybe, hmm, team-building or something? It feels a bit weird without our costumes, huh?"

Todoroki huffed lightly.

"Yeah," Izuku agreed. He felt a bit bare, and rubbed at his exposed arms. "Maybe... I don't know."

"This isn't P.E.," Todoroki pointed out, tilting his head in thought. "The curriculum is different from Heroics. So this exercise shouldn't be simple, either."

All Might grinned at all of them. Even now, without his 'hero' form he never failed to fill the space with his presence and his smile. Izuku felt his mouth stretch into a smile in response, feeling lighter.

Aizawa-sensei lowered his goggles over his eyes.

"In a fight," he began, "you may not be able to use your Quirks at all times."

All Might nodded. "In some cases, using your Quirk is inefficient or even harmful — you might be putting yourself, your fellow heroes, or civilians in danger. At other times you might find your Quirk limited."

"We're going to be sparring today," Aizawa-sensei announced. "For the first block, we're going to go through different techniques to make sure you know how to fight and how to defend yourself. In the second block, each of you will be paired off and will practice hand-to-hand combat without Quirks."

Uraraka clapped in excitement. Todoroki looked calm. Izuku had gotten better at reading him, but this time as far as Izuku could tell, Todoroki seemed self-confident. He must have trained a lot in fighting as well, Izuku thought.

They'd done some exercises in fighting a few times, so everyone knew at least some basics. Izuku could throw a few punches, but this was a good idea. There was always room for improvement.

All Might slipped off his jacket. He was— almost Quirkless now, but there was still a roiling power behind his movements. Still strong. He couldn't do anything like he used to, but… he was still a hero. Izuku watched him carefully even as the class was split and given mats, set apart from each other so they could work on drills.

Aizawa-sensei demonstrated. They practiced. After a few times All Might went around, student to student, talking quietly and gesturing.

Izuku threw a punch against an invisible opponent, careful of where his weight was resting. He struck forward again, faster this time but less steady. All Might came to him next, watching from the edge of the mat as Izuku tried again.

"Move your foot a little," All Might said, stepping forward onto the mat. Izuku dropped his arms slightly, feeling out of breath though they'd just started the period. "And your chest, here— may I?"

Izuku was nodding before he even knew what All Might meant. Then All Might took a step closer, hand touching Izuku's chest and adjusting how Izuku was carrying himself.

The air vanished.

I can't breathe.

The crushing feeling in his lungs stopped when All Might lifted his hand again, then gestured for Izuku to move his leg back. And lightened again when All Might stepped off the mat completely, breathing returning to normal as Izuku tried again.

"Better," All Might said. "Now…"

He stepped back onto the mat, and Izuku felt his ribs lock like the bars of a cage. Something wiggled in the back of Izuku's mind, some distant thought about— about— space, but—

"I heard from Aizawa about what happened this morning," All Might continued in a low voice. He tapped Izuku's arm, brought it up higher, and Izuku's lungs burst into flames. Izuku gasped, trying to listen over the feeling of suffocating. "I'm sorry about what happ—"

"Can we," Izuku rasped. He hurriedly took a step backward, drawing his arms back up to position and— he was blocking All Might, he thought, he was— because he couldn't breathe.

All Might gave him a concerned, surprised look as Izuku struggled to catch his breath. It had happened so fast. The moment All Might had stepped in close Izuku had just forgotten what it felt like to take air in.

"I'll talk to you later," All Might told him, quietly. Just for the two of them. "I know it's difficult, my boy."

And now Izuku felt guilty. He'd pushed All Might away, and now All Might was drawing back. Izuku hadn't meant to. He'd just needed the space.

"You're doing well. Keep going, young Midoriya. Tell me if you're not feeling up to anything, okay?"

Izuku bowed his head. He felt suddenly ashamed that he wasn't doing well at all. That- that- that the reporter had shaken him up this morning and Izuku hadn't recovered. And All Might was asking him if he wasn't feeling up to anything.

Twenty minutes left, the clock on the wall said.

All Might was still watching, like he was waiting for a response or something.

"Um. Yeah." Terrible. "Yeah. Sure. I'm okay."

"Alright," All Might said slowly, like he was still waiting. But Izuku trained his gaze forward again, watching the students in front of him and mechanically going through the movements again.

And that was that.

Everyone was sweaty and tired as they were let out for lunch.

"That was harder than I thought," Kaminari complained. "I'm starving."

"Oh, dude, Bakugou brought more of those snacks you liked," Kirishima said, slugging Kaminari's arm. "I peeked—"

"Oi," Kacchan yelled. He jabbed a finger in Kirishima's face. Kirishima didn't even flinch. "No one's getting anything unless you can beat me when we spar."

Kaminari slumped to the locker room floor. "Dreaming will get me closer to snacking than fighting will."

"Or you could get changed and go to lunch," Sero called. "You know that's an option."

Izuku walked in quietly behind them, mind churning. He'd been left alone for the rest of the period to practice. It'd given him time to think, and in the fluorescent lighting of the gym he'd caught sight of the wrist where he'd been grabbed. Nothing remained there, not even pale crescent marks where her nails had dug in.

But Izuku had still felt it. Her hand. Even when he couldn't see her, even when she was gone, even when Aizawa-sensei became a soothing pillar of black between them—Izuku's wrist, still caught in hers. Still connected.

He changed as fast as he could. No one noticed as Izuku slipped out, making his way to the lunchroom. Izuku wasn't hungry. In line, he gasped for air silently.

"Midoriya," Todoroki said, sitting down next to Izuku. "How are you?"

Izuku felt his chest constrict, and shoved his rice away. He focused on breathing. In. Out. Todoroki wasn't that close, but he was close enough so that if Izuku moved they could bump shoulders.

"Okay," Izuku said. In. Out.

It wasn't working. Telling himself to breathe— it wasn't working. He sucked in another breath as slowly as he could, but his lungs stuttered halfway through the attempt.

Todoroki didn't say anything else, and that made Izuku grateful. He smiled, and it felt genuine this time even though his chest was aching.

"If you need anything," Todoroki offered, lifting a shoulder. Then he ate, and Izuku shut his eyes for a moment.

"Thank you."

Uraraka plopped down across from Izuku a moment later. She was all breathless and laughing, and Izuku looked up. She looked happy. Iida followed, frowning.

"You shouldn't run," he started.

"I hear class president voice," someone shouted from a table over, and everyone who'd heard laughed.

"Alright, well," Iida said, going a bit pink. But he smiled.

Under the table Uraraka's knees brushed against his. Izuku jerked back. An invisible lance slotted between his ribs. He breathed in tightly. Todoroki's shoulder—a pass, but Izuku felt the touch ignite something. His hand began to shake.

"Quirks," Izuku blurted out. Iida blinked curiously at them. Izuku was running out of air, but he needed them— he needed to distract himself— he— "What do you guys think… about… Quirks with, um."

Breathe, breathe.

"I don't know…" He shifted towards the edge of the seat. "Um, like, fluctuating."

"Hmm," Uraraka said, "like, in strength? Or effectiveness?"

She tapped the top of her spoon against her mouth.

"Er, yeah. Quirks that interact with… I mean, um, do you guys think… it's like the influence of a Quirk that might break with, um, more exposure, or if it's affecting more- more- more—"

"People?" Todoroki asked. He blinked once, slowly, and Izuku thought, ah. Like Stain. "You could think about it like a zone."

He forgot about breathing. "A zone?"

Space. Izuku narrowed his eyes. Space—

"I was reading an article the other day," Todoroki explained, "some Quirks work with, say, an effective radius."

He put down a grain of rice on the table, then used his finger to draw an invisible circle around it. Izuku inched closer so he could see better, and his lungs began screaming for air.

"Sometimes a person's Quirk can only influence the people in this radius, see," Todoroki said, "remember, we were talking the other day when everyone finished their work in Computer Tech. A drawback. And out here, near the edge of the zone, the effects of the Quirk are weaker, and the closer you get to the person—this grain of rice—"

"The stronger…"

Izuku's hand knocked against Todoroki's arm. A second of contact. He choked on nothing, then began to cough. He reached up for his shirt, tried to, moved back, tried, breathed, stood.

"Midoriya?"

"I—"

Uraraka touched his arm in concern. Todoroki moved closer. Iida's brows were creased in worry. His glasses glinted. Izuku coughed, and coughed. It hurt. His insides seized. He grabbed his tray, the plates sliding, and bolted. The plates and his lungs rattled with each breath.

His body took him through the motions. He dumped his trash, returned his tray. Then Izuku was bolting out of the lunchroom, away from people, away from everyone. Empty space. Open air.

Empty space. Open air.

A zone.

His heart was racing. He'd run too fast; Izuku straightened and— he was outside. He didn't remember coming here.

Are you comfortable around them?

He'd panicked. Ran.

The breathing now was just— just Izuku, just fear. He'd stopped being able to think once the others had gotten close. He'd stopped being able to breathe. He'd seen the looks on their faces.

Izuku was— Izuku had—

Suddenly it began to make sense. The crowd of reporters. The discomfort all morning seated in class. Aizawa-sensei. Iida helping him up. All Might touching his chest. The feeling of too close, the feeling of can't breathe, what Izuku had chalked down to stress and nerves and- and-

He shoved his face in his hands. Izuku didn't cry. He felt like it, but instead Izuku counted down from ten. Too close, and Izuku would suffocate. Far enough, and he could breathe. There was no one here to hinder him… there was no Quirk here to hinder him.

I hope you find the answer to my question.

That reporter… her Quirk. How could—

Izuku trembled. How could he feel comfortable around them if he couldn't breathe? How could anyone help him if reaching out made Izuku choke?

But now it made sense, Izuku could solve it. He was good with Quirks; he just hadn't realized he'd been… under the influence of one. Contact-based. A mental effect—or physical, or both. Usually these things had a time limit.

He straightened.

Izuku just had to tough it out. He wasn't going to die or anything. Based on what Izuku remembered feeling, it was just worse when other people were in his personal space, or touching him. Even in class, the students around him made him— uncomfortable, but it was tolerable. Izuku just had to keep everyone at arm's length for a while until the Quirk's effects passed.

After class he'd decline from joining the usual study session; then he'd just go to his room. If anyone asked, he wasn't feeling well.

Which he wasn't.

And then… maybe tomorrow Izuku would wake up and find himself able to breathe. At its worst, the effect would take a few days to pass, but Izuku hadn't heard of anything that lasted beyond that.

But—

He'd have to be careful. Izuku couldn't tell anyone. His friends were worried. And then they would ask too many questions, and get too close. And the teachers would notice. And then Izuku would get in trouble, and someone would ask what was wrong, and— how could Izuku admit that he'd been vulnerable? That he was a hero-in-training but a reporter had found a weakness in his armor? That he'd let her catch him, let her stay long enough to use her Quirk on him?

Everyone already thought Izuku was a problem.

While everyone was training to be a hero he'd had to run twice as fast in a desperate bid to catch up, to learn how to control his Quirk. He couldn't handle his own Quirk. He couldn't handle villains. He couldn't handle a simple reporter.

Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. She was just— she was just a reporter.

"Young Midoriya?"

Izuku started. "All- All Might!"

"I hope I'm not intruding," All Might said, and Izuku shook his head, though he was already watching warily. All Might stopped about an arm's length away, and Izuku quietly noted how the end of his breaths seemed to trail.

"No, you're- it's okay."

All Might smiled, and that alone made Izuku feel better.

"You weren't in the lunchroom."

Izuku ducked his head. "I ate, um, and then I thought I'd come outside for a little bit. Before class starts. Again."

"Nice weather, hm?" All Might tipped his head back and scanned the sky. He was quiet for a moment as he collected his thoughts, then continued. "Now that we can talk— I'm sorry. I heard what happened this morning."

But he didn't know. Aizawa-sensei didn't know, either.

"I should have stopped her," Izuku said, before he could think.

"You couldn't have expected it," All Might responded. His voice was kind. "Young Midoriya, you know the press—the media is not always… as respectful as they should be. To heroes, or otherwise."

"It won't happen again," Izuku said firmly. All Might turned. Izuku only realized he'd moved when his breathing turned shallow.

"It could," All Might said. "It might. Some things you can't control. And some reporters have no sense of, ah…"

"My comfort zone?" Izuku suggested. He laughed lightly, but it made his chest ache.

"Mmm. Yes, that's a good phrase for it." All Might sighed. "I know you might think her grabbing onto you is innocuous enough, or perhaps you got out of the incident with little harm."

Izuku almost laughed. He turned it into a cough, and then felt his chest catch on it, and coughed harder. It echoed through his chest. Pain shot upwards from his lungs.

All Might reached over and patted Izuku on the back, stepping closer, and Izuku grasped the front of his shirt. He coughed. It seemed to well from deep inside of him; in between Izuku tried to draw air through his lungs, but it didn't work. His body began to shake.

"Mi- Midoriya?"

"Wait," Izuku wheezed. He had to get it under control—it was so hard—and his chest rattled, and rattled. Finally Izuku drew in a breath long enough to stop coughing even though it burned in the back of his throat. All Might's hand on his back was both painful and warm, running down his spine then back up. It was gentle. It hurt. It was so gentle. And Izuku thought, I'd suffer for this.

"Are you sick?" All Might was frowning; no, Izuku didn't want him to look like that. "Do you need to go see Recovery Girl? I can write you a note…"

"No!" The word burst from his mouth even as it drained him of breath. He shook from the effort. All Might's hand stayed where it was. "No, no, I'm just having an off day but I really want to go to class and-"

He'd run out of air, but All Might seemed to understand.

"I meant what I said, you know," All Might murmured. Izuku blinked at the ground, his eyes watering—he didn't know why, maybe it was because his chest was hurting, his lungs collapsing in on themselves, like they were filling with water and being crushed at the same time. "I'm here. If you need me to be. If you want me to be."

"I-" Breathe. Breathe. "I want…"

All Might wrapped his arms around Izuku, and Izuku squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the air catching in his chest, and then he couldn't feel air at all. He screwed his eyes shut tighter as dizziness swooped in and the weight of a thousand stones weighed on his chest, but—

—but over it he could still feel All Might, arms around him, and Izuku hurt so much he couldn't bear to let go for just a moment later.

"Class is starting soon," All Might rumbled, and Izuku felt his voice reverberate through his chest. "We should go, if you still want to attend."

Izuku couldn't speak. He could hardly feel air pass his lips as All Might let go, and Izuku swayed.

All Might began to stride away. Izuku's legs were weak, but he managed not to pass out. It was easier now there was distance. As they walked, Izuku made sure to keep the distance between them.

There was just one problem with Izuku's plan.

He realized it as he walked into class and remembered they were having sparring practice, and wondered if it was too late to ask to go see Recovery Girl. But Aizawa-sensei was already pairing off students, and Izuku couldn't just back out because it would be weird. And everyone would think he was just trying to get out of class.

Sparring. Hand-to-hand combat. Like developing fighting skills in a close-range situation.

"Midoriya," and across the room Izuku's gaze snapped over to meet Kacchan's eyes, like they both knew— "Bakugou."

"Fucking great," Kacchan grumbled, marching over. He raked his eyes up and down Izuku's figure, then sank back, ready. "Don't we spar enough?"

Izuku snorted. "That's probably why."

They'd taken to sparring together to train. Not very often, maybe once or twice a week when they could fit it in—Izuku had annoyed Kacchan until he'd given in. Sometimes with Quirks, sometimes without, and with whichever teacher was available to supervise. But this class… maybe it was to see how much they'd grown, and changed.

They were good at reading each other, but it made sparring a challenge now. Izuku watched carefully, forgetting about everything but the feeling of the mat under his feet and the slight shift of Kacchan's left foot. Back. Izuku twisted out of the way of two quick, short punches.

He couldn't let Kacchan touch him. Already his body was straining to keep up as Kacchan moved mercilessly. Defense, not offense.

Izuku spent moment after moment tracking Kacchan's movements and moving out of the way. Kacchan's fist glanced off of Izuku's shoulder, and his chest constricted. Sweat ran down Izuku's back.

"Stop—" Kacchan moved faster. More erraticly. A trickle of fear shot up his spine. "Deku, what the hell is wrong with you today—"

Izuku dove forward, under Kacchan's arms, and twisted around to face him. He was gasping.

"Why aren't you— fighting!"

Izuku saw it coming. He couldn't move; something awful slowed his response. He took one step back, but it wasn't enough to stop Kacchan from tackling him. They went down in a mass of flying color. Izuku saw the flash of blue uniform as a fist came down. He rolled. Kacchan grabbed his arm, and Izuku's vision fizzled.

They grappled. The weight on Izuku's chest grew heavier, and heavier. He wheezed in a breath. The pressure on Izuku's arm. He stopped thinking and lashed out, knee ramming upwards. There was a shout, a slight release—Izuku gasped for air. There wasn't any. There wasn't any air.

His ribs were hurting. His chest was. He couldn't. He couldn't breathe. He forced air into his lungs. He couldn't feel it.

He needed to breathe. Izuku could see Kacchan's face—

—Kacchan saw something, Kacchan pulling away as Izuku thrashed. Breathe. Breathe.

"...Deku?"

His name, like sinking through water. He breathed in. Couldn't keep up. Fire burst in his chest, hot coals tumbling down, ash coating his insides. A feeling like his chest was being pierced. Something wet trickled down the side of his face.

Izuku gasped. "Plea-"

"Deku!"

He gasped again, and then pain lanced through him as he began to choke. Izuku curled inwards, blocking his chest— please he just wanted to breathe, he just wanted air, he just needed. Coughing ravaged him, tearing through his entire body like a shaking storm.

"Is he—"

"—choking—"

Air. Please. Air.

"Ge-" he rasped, and the attempt made his chest cave inwards. He shook. Someone laid a hand on his arm, and Izuku made a sound of pain, and they kept touching him, and he flung his arm out blindly, pleading—

He couldn't… he stopped feeling—

Air. Air. Air.

He was going to die. Air, he was dying, please, please help, please, air…

"Get away from him! Everyone out!"

Something cleared. Izuku shook and trembled and curled a hand towards himself. His chest cramped; he gasped when he was moved, like a knife slipping through his back. But there was air. He was breathing.

Izuku could still feel himself shaking and gasping. His legs jerked.

"Midoriya."

A voice, cool and calm. Izuku latched onto it. His body moved without him telling it; he took in a short breath, followed by another.

"Midoriya, can you hear me."

He panted. A noise passed briefly through his lips.

"Easy… just take a breath. In… and out."

Izuku pulled his knees up. He breathed. He felt the rhythm and struggled to catch up. He couldn't do it. But Aizawa-sensei's voice rocked over him—in, out, in, out. When he could breathe again he started to cry, hiccuping until he lost his breath to the sobs that wracked him. Izuku had felt like he was dying. His chest had been carved into. He felt his arm move until he could cry into it, sleeve going damp.

"Midoriya, can you hear me?" Again.

His shoulders shook. It made his body ache.

"Ye-"

Izuku shuddered, wheezing. Aizawa-sensei—Izuku felt him move closer, felt it in the way a stabbing pain made itself known. He threw an arm out, crying again, and through his blurry vision he saw Aizawa-sensei stop.

"Ple- please," he croaked. "No- no…"

Aizawa-sensei shifted back in one fluid, quick movement. The look on his face was stricken.

But Izuku wanted…

"Sensei," Izuku whimpered. He heaved in a breath. And before Izuku could stop, he felt himself unfurl like a plant towards the sun, and reached his arm across the cold floor.

Aizawa-sensei carefully took Izuku's hand, and contact made pain reared its head. Izuku took in an unsteady breath— he choked out a sob, and felt his body shudder fully.

"Sen- sensei…"

"Midoriya," Aizawa-sensei said, voice soft, "can I come closer?"

He flinched. Aizawa-sensei let go of his hand and drew back, but Izuku thought it made everything worse even if it hurt less. He whined, too tired to be embarrassed, and Aizawa-sensei took his hand again. Izuku shut his eyes and tried to disconnect the feeling of the hand in his from the feeling of invisible rope around him pulling tight.

He blinked, swallowing against a dry throat. "It hurts…"

"I know." He felt confused. "I know, Midoriya. I'm going to take you to Recovery Girl in a moment. Do you think you can handle that?"

Izuku groaned. He slid his fingers along his ribs. The pressure built. How long had Aizawa-sensei been there, kneeling, holding his hand? Light bloomed behind his eyes.

"It hurts," he said again. He wanted someone to hold him. No one could. Izuku stopped being able to breathe again, but words slid out between his attempts. "Sensei, it hurts."

He pulled his own hand away, curling away from Aizawa-sensei. Pulled in a deeper, more even breath.

Aizawa-sensei was silent, but Izuku was afraid of looking. He didn't know what he would see. Or if it would hurt.

"Am I," Aizawa-sensei began, "hurting you?"

Izuku didn't know if it counted. In. Out.

"No," the word came out in a whisper. Then, even quieter, "yes."

He heard Aizawa-sensei take in a sharp breath. Izuku followed, slower.

"Does it hurt now?"

"No." His chest throbbed. He whined. "Yes. Yes. But- less."

"Can you move?"

Izuku tried. He shoved a hand under his chest and pushed up, struggling. His arm shook. Aizawa-sensei went to help him but stopped short when Izuku made a strangled noise. It took him achingly long, but Izuku sat up. He was shaking and sweaty.

"I thought I- I thought…"

Flashes of memory and light. A stabbing pain like it had been killing him. And a choking fear that was worse than any Quirk could do to him.

"Do you think you can walk?"

The thought of standing alone made him lightheaded. He shook his head.

Aizawa-sensei was careful. "Can you handle being cared?"

"I don't know," Izuku mumbled. "Not… not good…"

"Let's try standing," Aizawa-sensei said, and Izuku paled but nodded shakily. Out of range, he felt— better. Not great, but maybe it would be enough for him to get up.

It took an eternity. He got to his feet and almost fell over. Aizawa-sensei caught him, and then Izuku did fall, doubling over himself as his vision tunneled and the air left his lungs. He heard himself saying something but didn't know what until the only thought was left was that he wanted to breathe.

He went weightless. Something warm enveloped him, but then the pain started again. Izuku sucked in air. He coughed, clawing at his chest. Fabric gave way under his fingers but he still couldn't get enough air.

Air.

Blood roared in his ears. Izuku thrashed. He gasped desperately, searching. And then his lungs opened, the pain just beginning to recede. The tightness in his chest loosened, and when he could he sobbed in relief.

"Is he—"

Izuku coiled his limbs inward. Please. Please.

"You can't… you're going to hurt him if you move closer."

He placed All Might's voice next to Aizawa-sensei's.

"What happened?"

Recovery Girl. Izuku forced his eyes open, alarmed when he heard her footsteps, and shrank back into the bed when he saw her approach. If she came closer it would hurt again. He didn't want to hurt again.

"I have a suspicion, but…"

Recovery Girl bent a little so she could peer at his eyes. He blinked back at her.

"I can't come closer," she said, standing near the next bed in the infirmary, and Izuku shook his head. "Can you breathe?"

"Yeah," he whispered. And to reassure himself he took in a breath. Let it out. And again. And again. Uneven, but there.

"Alright, then," Recovery Girl said, straightening. She crossed her arms. "Let me know if you need anything, or if you start hurting again. Usually I'd like to check you over, but if it's going to hurt you more… at least for now…"

Izuku shifted his gaze. He turned his head so he was partly hidden by the pillow, pressing his cheek into the soft material.

"There's nothing we could do?"

Izuku could feel his body relaxing. Everyone was far enough away that he was beginning to breathe fine, the echoes of pain becoming more and more faint and faraway.

"I'm not sure this is a… health problem," Aizawa-sensei said. He crouched next to the bed, keeping his distance. "Midoriya?"

Izuku hummed.

"Do you know what caused this?"

His mouth trembled. Izuku didn't want to say, shame pooling in his gut. But Aizawa-sensei didn't look angry or upset. Just patient. Waiting. He opened his mouth, and then closed it.

Receding footsteps, and then it was just the two of them again.

"Will you tell me?"

Izuku cracked. He was tired. He remembered the feeling of his lungs caving, and said, "A… Quirk."

"Not yours."

He didn't respond.

"How long?"

Izuku covered his face, and said, "This morning."

Aizawa-sensei was silent. Izuku shivered. It wasn't a good sign. It made Izuku feel like he'd done something wrong—

"Was it the reporter?"

His hand found his chest. In. Out. "Yes…"

"Thank you for telling me."

"But… sensei…"

Aizawa-sensei was looking at him when Izuku finally dared to uncover his face.

"Do you think this is your fault, Midoriya?"

"I let her," Izuku said. His wrist prickled. Something wet—a tear—slipped down his cheek. "I let her. I let her."

"You didn't," Aizawa-sensei said, voice firm. But he was still talking in that sort of low, gentle voice that made Izuku feel safer. Better. "She stopped you. She used her Quirk against you. And she hurt you, and made us hurt you. Do you understand? It's not your fault that you're hurting."

Izuku pressed his lips together.

"Alright, Midoriya?"

"I just wanted to breathe," Izuku said brokenly, and Aizawa-sensei's face softened a fraction. "I couldn't. I couldn't."

"You're alright," Aizawa-sensei said, "you're safe. You can breathe."

He nodded, trying to believe it.

"I'll find her."

"What if she hurts you?"

Aizawa-sensei smiled. "She won't be able to." Then he paused, and said somberly, "She already has."

He must have looked confused, because Aizawa-sensei sighed. "She put one of my students in danger and in pain, and when I want to help, things get worse."

"Oh," Izuku mumbled.

"Rest."

He blinked slowly. Rest sounded— nice. But…

"Don't—" Izuku's voice cracked. "Please don't leave. Sensei."

Aizawa-sensei shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not leaving."

Sleep evaded him. In his dreams he was in the water, drowning, clawing at the surface. Fire pulsed in his chest. And then he was under a bridge, and something thick and viscous was forcing itself around him, closing around him, a soft voice in his ear—

"Midoriya!"

He woke up coughing. Izuku wheezed. Fear shot through his veins like ice.

"Midoriya, you're fine, you're safe, there's air… do you hear me?" His chest constricted, but it was just him. Izuku looked up and saw Aizawa-sensei standing away from him, arm outstretched. Their eyes met.

"You're alright. You can breathe."

He could. And then he couldn't, and Izuku wrapped his arms around himself and heaved air in and out.

"Am I too close?"

"I don't know."

Aizawa-sensei moved a little further away. Some of it had been him. The rest had been Izuku himself.

"I want," Izuku muttered, "this to be over."

"Soon," Aizawa-sensei said, "I promise, Midoriya. It'll be over soon."

"Will… will you stay?"

"As long as you need me to," Aizawa-sensei told him. "And I will be whatever you need me to be."

Izuku licked his lips and smiled tentatively. "Do I have to do the homework?"

Aizawa-sensei rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched in amusement. "Do you want me to answer that, brat?"

Izuku laughed, and he found this time it didn't hurt.

"You're touching your chest again," Aizawa-sensei noted. Izuku blinked. He hadn't realized.

"She… she asked me…" He didn't have to say who she was, "if I was… um, comfortable. If I could trust… if I could trust the people around me to help me if I- I- when I needed it."

Izuku swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I think I know the answer." He glanced sideways at Aizawa-sensei and thought of the reporter taking his wrist, Aizawa-sensei taking his hand. Even though it hurt. "Tha- thank you, sensei. For staying."

Aizawa-sensei nodded. The light from the window shifted and became softer.

"As long as you need," he said again, and lapsed into a quiet. In it Izuku could hear himself breathing slowly and steadily, and unafraid. And Aizawa-sensei did stay—a long, long time—until Izuku's hand lowered from his chest, and he could take a full breath, and the fear and hurt following him had subsided and gone as easy as disappearing air.

[numbjaw]

Suspicious Minds

Prompt: Erasermic. I see you specialize in angst. Hizashi saves a woman and she ends up kissing Hizashi (who is with Shouta and he didn't kiss back) and it gets photographed. It circulates around UA before Hizashi finds out. Shouta finds out and breaks it off with Hizashi thinking he's cheating but doesn't say way to him. Class A is protective of Shouta and refuse to let Hizashi near him. Todoroki is the one who figured it out and they decide to help Hizashi win back Shouta. And it works. - phoenixtodoroki

Shoto Todoroki was too buried in his studies to get involved in the gossip huddle taking place towards the front of the classroom; it wasn’t that he didn’t notice, he just didn’t care. Through hushed tones and electrified whispers, he put together some clues: something about a photo and someone of notoriety ‘cheating’. Based on Tenya’s quietness, it probably wasn’t cheating of the academic kind.

With the League of Villains currently in retreat again, things in Musutafu had been pretty mundane and quiet lately - a so-called “purse-snatcher” week. It was really no wonder some celebrity scandal was fueling the interests of his classmates this morning; there simply wasn’t anything else to talk about.

Shoto continued to look through his notes, even as Aizawa came in and sent the rest of 1-A into a clumsy scramble back to their seats. Aizawa, of course, punished them for not being seated with one of his newest challenges: an entire hour of complete silence. And by silent, he meant silent. Anyone who made so much as an involuntary sneeze would have a lap added to gym class the following week, and more laps added for anything remotely resembling noise after that - absent-minded pencil-tapping and skipped-breakfast-stomach-growling included.

Personally, Shoto enjoyed Aizawa’s silence tests, priding himself a little on being the only student who hadn’t been given an extra lap so far. Even straight and narrow Tenya, Class Rep, had fallen victim to Aizawa’s strict practice when one of his pencils had accidentally rolled off of his desk and clattered to the floor. It must’ve haunted him quite a lot, because Shoto noticed that Tenya had now attached grips to his pencils - something they hadn’t seen since elementary school - to prevent them from rolling around.

This hour was different, though. Not a single student made a sound, but Shoto had a strange feeling that it wasn’t because they were seriously trying their best to avoid running laps. There was particular tension within the classroom, and only himself and Aizawa seemed to be outside of it. Had whatever gossip his classmates been on about that morning been that captivating? Man, it really was a boring week...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nemuri Kayama watched as Hizashi yawned into the corner of the teacher’s lounge, one of his gloved hands clutching what had become his third cup of coffee that morning. It was a little more than his usual two, but nothing too out-of-the ordinary she supposed. Still, something about her fellow instructor seemed off lately.

Literally the loudest person in the entire school, maybe even the world, Hizashi had been a little less obnoxious lately. Tired, even. She wondered if this was the effect of dating Shouta Aizawa, a man who literally kept a sleeping bag folded under his desk.

“Long patrol last night?” She asked, to which Hizashi glanced wearily over his shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, something like that,” He answered with a little grin, despite his visible exhaustion that his sunglasses did little to conceal, “Nothin' too exciting though. How about you?”

“Oh, you know my nights are always exciting…” Nemuri winked, almost causing Hizashi to choke on his coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the hour, Shoto was fairly sure he had every word in his notebook memorized. As long as Aizawa didn’t pull any “logical ruses” about what would be on the exam next week, Shoto was fairly confident that he had nothing to worry about.

Upon being excused, the silent treatment ignited 1-A into simultaneous, unintelligible blabbering, which made Shoto sincerely miss the quiet. But a few words overheard from Izuku and Ochaco caught his attention.

“Mr. Aizawa doesn’t know yet,” Izuku said.

“Deku! Are you sure?” Ochaco exclaimed, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, several things,” Izuku began, clutching his chin thoughtfully, “He acted completely normal, for starters. I know he’s really professional and calm no matter what’s happening, but this is something really personal to him. I really don’t think he would have punished us into a silent hour if he knew - that would have been the last thing he would have wanted. Instead, he would have wanted to be engaging with us, talking to us, keeping his mind off it…”

“That makes sense…” Ochaco said, “What do you think he’ll do when he does find out?”

Izuku sighed and looked down sadly. “That I don’t know…”

“Hey,” Shoto greeted, finally took an opportunity to step into their conversation, “Not trying to be rude, but what are you two talking about?”

Izuku looked up and Ochaco tilted her head.

“You don’t know?” She asked, to which Shoto shrugged.

“I wasn’t part of the class huddle this morning," He said matter-of-factly.

“That’s right…” Izuku remembered, before looking around carefully, “It’s about Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada.”

“What about them?” Shoto asked, though he felt he already had enough clues to guess. He just needed to confirm it.

“We think Mr. Yamada might be cheating on Mr. Aizawa,” Ochaco whispered, her tone as serious as it was concerned.

Shoto had to lean back slightly. So, his hunch had been right, the cheating scandal involved… their teachers? Oh man. Boring week aside, it was no wonder everyone had been so invested.

“Seriously?” was all Shoto could say as Ochaco handed him her phone.

On the screen was an image of Present Mic in his street clothes, lip-to-lip with a slender brunette in a pencil skirt, the blurred lights of the city outlining their features in what would have honestly been a beautiful photograph of a couple locked in an romantic, late-night embrace if it weren’t for the simple fact Yamada was supposed to be with Aizawa.

“No way,” Shoto breathed as he took in the photo, “Who took this?”

“Not sure. Mineta said he got it from a friend of his who was working downtown last Friday.”

Shoto’s brows lowered in suspicion. “How do we know it isn’t a lie? What if this was taken years ago?”

“Yeah, I thought that, too,” Izuku said quietly, “But look right here…”

Izuku pointed to the edge of a billboard in the photo, that, though a little out-of-focus, had an advertisement for a movie. Shoto squinted, unable to make out a date, only two characters, pointing up at a shooting star. It seemed familiar enough...

“That movie is in theaters right now,” Izuku said.

“Meaning this picture is definitely recent,” finished Ochaco.

Shoto felt a sudden pang of remorse for his homeroom teacher. Suddenly, it all made sense… but at the same time, it didn’t. At all.

Only students and staff at UA knew, but Aizawa and Yamada had been together for close to a year, having only gone public about it a few months ago. Obviously, no one within UA was surprised about it, but the tale of two opposite Pro-Heroes finding love sparked a tabloid firestorm for the first few weeks after they came out about it. Reception was positive, but mostly in that purposely-supportive-therefore-grossly-insincere kind of way, where more conservative sources questioned both the hook-up itself and the school; they were both UA teachers, after all. Though sparse, it was still enough for Principal Nezu to make a statement, quickly shutting down any claims of unprofessionalism in regards to staff relations at the school. After that, most of Japan generally didn’t care, other than Yamada’s radio fangirls and maybe Ms. Joke, who had finally figured out why Aizawa had always been so quick to shut down her not-always-joking advances. Still, she seemed to be their most genuine supporter of all, not shying away from teasing Yamada for ‘beating her to the punch’. Well, apparently Yamada had beaten her to the punch from the time they had both been students themselves at UA: half of their lifetimes together.

That’s why Yamada suddenly cheating on Aizawa didn’t make sense.

Shoto worriedly looked up to Izuku and Ochaco. “How many people did Mineta send this to?”

“Well, first he sent it to Ashido, who sent it to Aoyama, who then sent it to…” ブツブツブツブツブツブツブツブツ

Shoto spaced off as Izuku recited the entire order of recipients, who thankfully only seemed to be from Class 1-A. So far, anyway...

“We can’t let this get outside of our class,” Shoto said, “Not until we know the truth about it. I need you guys to help me contact everyone and find out where else this picture was sent.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouta Aizawa could tell something strange was going on with his students. Not only did they, for the first time ever, all succeed in not making a sound, they had seemed to be mutually preoccupied with some kind of knowledge that he was unaware of. He threw out the idea of it being a possible seven-month early surprise birthday party right away. Thoughts of any anniversaries as a teacher or a Pro-Hero were also scrapped. There was literally nothing significant in April other than his upcoming anniversary with Hizashi, which he was certain his students had no knowledge of… unless Hizashi had said something.

Shouta felt himself smile as he sifted through the paperwork on his desk, a daydream of Hizashi sneakily getting their students in on some kind of surprise anniversary gift. It wasn’t completely irrational, Shouta figured.

But then again, when was love ever truly rational? If at all? He certainly had it bad for the Voice Hero...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hizashi was trying his absolute best to avoid his fourth cup of coffee that day as he walked to his classroom, where 1-A would be gathering shortly. Shouta had already texted him a heads-up about how unusually they were behaving by actually… behaving. Hizashi joked about being a little grateful, considering the absolute lack of sleep he’d had the night before. Shouta had replied with something along the lines of knowing a good remedy for sleep, combined with a winking emoji, which made Hizashi forget all about his need for more coffee.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Don’t tease me at work like this

Read at 11:36 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

Or what?

Yamada, Hizashi:

I might just need to have a private meeting with you

Read at 11:36 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

I really enjoy meetings. ;-)

‘Again with the winky face?!’

Yamada, Hizashi:

Class is starting soon. 

I’ll deal with you later.

Read at 11:38 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

You better.

Tenya Iida was one of the first students in, as usual. But as Hizashi greeted him, he was met with a not-so-usual response: a very reserved “Morning” in lieu of his usually pitch-perfect “Good morning, Mr. Yamada!”

It only continued as more students almost seemed to cautiously shuffle into the room. Some of them neglected to even greet him at all, and probably most striking was how every single one of them sat at their desk and said absolutely nothing to each other.

“Sheesh, Shouta wasn’t kidding…” Hizashi thought. He hadn’t seen them like this since their first day at UA.

Hizashi cleared his throat and looked over the students thoughtfully. He was never one to break under a tough crowd. Whatever prank, scheme, or demonstration Class 1-A was on about today wouldn’t phase him. Clearly, they were all dead-set on silence today,maybe out of protest for Shouta’s continued push for it, so Hizashi would have to assure the next fifty minutes went exactly the opposite of quiet. His specialty.

Thinking quickly, he targeted Tenya first. No matter what was going on, he was certain the Class Rep would always have an opinion to declare - especially when it regarded ethics. Seeing as all of the instructors were collaborating on the exam, his lessons were crossing into Shouta’s, and vice-versa.

“Iida,” Hizashi started, “Can you tell the class the definition of a ‘vigilante’?”

Tenya stood up, though some hesitation was clear. “Vigilantes... are groups or individuals who act independently, usually attempting to perform the duties of Pro-Heroes, but outside of the law and without licenses. Despite acting in good faith… vigilantism is considered illegal.”

“That it is! Don’t let the Good Samaritan act fool ya,” Hizashi praised, as Tenya sat back down. He then noticed Tenya bowed his head, as if ashamed - but why? He’d answered perfectly. Was it because he answered anything at all? Was 1-A really attempting a silent protest? Not in Present Mic’s class. “Righty-o. So! Can any of you tell me what you should do if you encounter a vigilante out in the field?”

Silence and stillness. It was a hard-ball question, Hizashi supposed. Shouta’s so-called “problem child” Izuku Midoriya would probably be a good student to call on, Hizashi figured. The kid wasn’t so much as a goodie-two-shoes as he just genuinely wanted to excel whenever he could, even if it meant going against the grain from time to time. The perfect student, as far as Hizashi was concerned.

“Nothin’, huh? How about… Midoriya. Tell the crowd what you think you should do if you encounter a vigilante.”

Izuku mirrored Tenya’s hesitation, but eventually stood none-the-less. “They’re considered criminals… so maybe apprehend them, but...” Izuku said, before his eyes swept up at Hizashi, “It depends on the situation…”

Hizashi tilted his head. Why had Izuku said that so… directly? “Go on...?”

“Right,” Izuku murmured, then looked back down, “If a vigilante is encountered during an incident with a villain, you’d have to prioritize the villain over the vigilante. But, if a vigilante is assisting a citizen, it’s best to help, or at least take over if possible. And, I suppose if a vigilante is encountered alone, you should attempt to apprehend them, but no matter what the circumstance, you must contact the police as soon as possible.”

“Nailed it! That was a mouthful, though - y’all catch all that? I hope you did!” Hizashi sang, shifting through Aizawa’s notes. He really did hope the rest of 1-A had paid close attention, as Izuku had just supplied the exact correct answer to one of their upcoming exam questions. It was hard to tell, though. No one was asking questions about it. No one was asking for it to be repeated. No one was speaking unless called on. No one was even taking notes. Hizashi’s smile faded slightly.

“Can anyone name which statute that affected vigilantism?” He asked.

The weird tension in the room only seemed to thicken like humidity when Hizashi called on Momo Yaoyorozu, who wasn’t so much distressed, but rather… angry. Towards who or what, Hizashi had no idea, but it certainly wasn’t him… right?

“The Rhode Island New State Statute,” She said effortlessly, without even looking at Hizashi.

“How many vigilantes were affected?” Hizashi challenged, to which Momo met him with a glare.

“Over a hundred.”

Hizashi waved a finger at her. “Ah-ah. How many exactly?”

“You know, maybe you should answer that… how many others?” Momo said, “Or was it just the one?”

Hizashi tilted his head as the rest of 1-A looked to Momo in shock.

“Do you… not know?” Hizashi asked, looking over his sunglasses at Yaoyorozu.

“Oh, I know. We all know,” Momo muttered, before sitting down, looking as though she was close to crying. The rest of the class seemed to have absorbed her words, which seemed to affect Mineta the most as he down-right sunk into his seat.

On second thought, maybe 1-A was better off staying silent after all. Honestly, Hizashi hadn’t been so relieved for a class dismissal since he’d been a student himself. As soon as 1-A had finished filing outside, he texted Shouta immediately.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Yooooooooooooooooooooooooo 

you were right! 1-A was OFF AF

Hizashi, mostly confused, tried not to think about why Shouta didn’t respond to him right away. What had Momo meant when she said ‘how many others’?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shoto managed to catch Momo out in the hallway while Izuku and Ochaco got stuck behind a wall of students departing for lunch. She was still flustered, he noticed.

“That was a little harsh back there, don’t you think?”

“How was it harsh?” She shot back, “The guy’s a total sleazebag, cheating on Mr. Aizawa like that!”

“Keep your voice down,” Shoto warned, “This’ll only get worse if it spreads.”

“Well, maybe it should,” Momo argued, “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.”

Shoto looked over his classmate sympathetically. He understood her pain well, as they had both developed a special bond with Aizawa after the final exams; just the idea of someone trying to hurt their teacher made his left side want to ignite.

“Look, I’m not disagreeing, but whether it’s true or not, we owe Mr. Aizawa his privacy. Can you imagine the media circus if that picture gets outside of our school?”

Finally, Momo’s dark eyes softened with the realization of the matter; she couldn’t imagine how downright embarrassed, ashamed, and angry Shouta would feel if that image of his boyfriend got plastered over every tabloid imaginable, along with pictures of him, and maybe even UA...

“You’re absolutely right, Todoroki… I’m so sorry,” She sighed, and calmed herself, a familiar confidence returning to her eyes. “What do we do?”

“First, we need to convince everyone else to delete the picture off their phones. Deku and Uraraka are already working on that part. I was thinking about tracking down Mineta’s friend, the one who took it in the first place, and find out if they sent it to anyone else other than Mineta. Maybe even get a little more context behind it, too.”

“Todoroki…” Momo realized, “You... really don’t think Mr. Yamada cheated, do you?”

“I just don’t want to believe that he actually did,” Shoto sighed, “So, will you help us out?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yamada, Hizashi:

Yooooooooooooooooooooooooo 

you were right! 1-A was OFF AF

Read at 12:08 PM

It was late in the evening. Hizashi’s once-mild concern over being left on read had graduated to a storming panic. It was absolutely unlike Shouta not to text him back unless something bad had happened; their status as both Pro Heroes and teachers at UA doubled this chance, and, of the two of them, it was usually Shouta who wound up hurt. Hizashi personally wasn’t sure if his heart could handle another hospital visit. Stomach continuing to knot, Hizashi attempted another text.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Getting kinda worried. You ok?

Shouta didn’t make him wait any longer, which normally would have been a relief if it weren’t for the single word that he replied with.

Sho 🐱❤️:

No.

Yamada, Hizashi:

What’s wrong?

Sho 🐱❤️:

You should know.

Hizashi swallowed a growing lump in his throat as his exchange with Momo Yaoyorozu that morning rang out in his head.

“Do you… not know?”

“Oh, I know. We all know.”

Yamada, Hizashi:

???

I have no idea

Did I forget something again?

Sho 🐱❤️:

It would seem.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Can’t be our anniversary, that’s next week... :)

Can I have a hint?

Read at 8:40 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

Sho?

Read at 8:47 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

talk to me!

Read at 8:52 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

I honestly have no idea what’s wrong. But I’ll make it right, whatever it is. Don’t leave me in the dark, Sho. Please?

Hizashi’s thumb hesitantly hovered over the call option on the phone screen, but he refrained, chalking it up to a really weird day. Maybe Shouta just needed to sleep off whatever it was, Hizashi thought, as he went on to wonder what exactly he had forgotten about that had made Shouta react as he did.

What had he forgotten? Shouta’s birthday was November 8th… right?

Suddenly, Hizashi wasn’t really sure about anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Touma Okamura was the childhood friend of Mineta and also the spark of what was becoming a wildly-growing forest fire for UA. Despite the best efforts of Shoto, Izuku, Ochaco, and Momo, it had seemed news of Present Mic’s after-school activities had already leaked outside of their class, and possibly UA. It was only a matter of time before Aizawa found out, if he hadn’t found out already. For Shoto, it was more important than ever to get the context behind the damn picture, which would hopefully stomp out the flames before the smoke was noticed by the press.

Shoto was pleased that Momo had decided to join himself, Izuku, and Ochaco on the trip into the city. The location of the photo was right outside of a gaudy souvenir store in Downtown Musutafu. It was a constantly-busy, loud area of town that never seemed to sleep or be without traffic. Shoto felt his stomach turn a little when he saw the movie billboard from the photo, “Lost Stars”, prominently displayed on a nearby rooftop. And just below, Touma, wearing a work apron.

Touma was similar to Mineta in nature: immature, rather small and squirrely, but with a Quirk that was similar to Ojiro’s - a large tail, but more lizard-like, striped with green and brown scales.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Izuku said, as Touma just nodded, looking more bored if anything.

“No biggie,” Touma said, “Mineta gave me a heads-up about you. But just so you know, I only have five minutes before I have to get back, so I gotta make this quick. What’d you wanna know?”

“For starters… just what was going on before and after you took that picture of Present Mic,” Shoto said, crossing his arms.

Touma looked up at the sky as he recalled back. “I had a late shift that night. Got out around 9PM. I was on my way out and when I saw Present Mic and that lady. Actually took me a second to recognize it was him, and once I did I wanted to get a picture… and that’s pretty much when they kissed.”

“When you say they kissed… did it seem… mutual?” Momo asked carefully.

Touma shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, he didn’t exactly stop her.”

“How long did it last?” Ochaco asked, and Shoto took notice of Izuku beginning to blush slightly.

“Eh, not long. Maybe only a second and she went on her way. He kinda stood there a minute watching her before walking the other way. It was pretty weird now that I think about it.”

“Did Mic seem… okay?” Shoto pressed, knowing they were running low on time.

“I don’t know. He seemed fine to me. Maybe a little confused, but fine.”

“Okamura. Why did you send the picture to Mineta?” asked Izuku.

“Because it was funny,” Touma explained, grinning in a way that definitely explained his friendship with Mineta, “I knew Present Mic was one of his teachers, and come on, that lady was super hot. I knew Mineta would get a kick out of it!”

“He’s going to get a kick out of it, alright,��� Shoto muttered, as Momo glanced at him worriedly.

“Did you send the picture to anyone else?” Ochacho asked, to which Touma shook his head.

“Nope,” Touma started, “I mean, I posted it on my feed, but I didn’t tag Present Mic in it or anything.”

“Wait. You… posted it… online?” Shoto asked slowly.

“Yeah. Like, I only have maybe a hundred followers? That’s not many at all. Practically nobody else saw it. I’m kinda underground, you know?”

Shoto had to step away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hizashi awoke to a loud knocking at the door. He blinked wearily in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, unsure as to when he had managed to fall asleep or, more so, how. Before Hizashi could check his phone, he answered the door, somewhat surprised to see Shouta standing there.

“Hey,” He smiled at first, until realizing Shouta didn’t look too pleased and was cradling a cardboard box.

“You said you wanted a hint,” Shouta said coldly, shoving the box into Hizashi’s arms, “Hopefully this will suffice.”

With great alarm, Hizashi realized all the contents inside the box were things of his that he had either gifted to Shouta or things of his that he had left at Shouta’s apartment, and Shouta was now walking away.

“Shouta, wait, I don’t understand what I did!” Hizashi called after him, setting the box down at the doorstep and running after the fellow instructor, who was making a beeline for the nearest stairwell, “Shouta!”

“Stop,” Shouta said, pausing halfway down the stairs, “Stop treating me like a fool. It won’t work.”

“I’m… not…” Hizashi trailed off, “Shouta -”

“Stop calling me that,” said Shouta, “We’re done.”

“I…” Hizashi said quietly, “Hold up a second, would ya…? I seriously don’t understand what I did…”

“If that’s really true,” Shouta said, “Then we really have nothing else to talk about.”

“Sh - Aizawa…” Hizashi tried, but it was as if he had suddenly swallowed a razor blade. Was Shouta using his Quirk on him? No, his eyes weren’t red. They were hurt.

“Going forward, I’ll maintain a professional relationship with you - but only for the sake of our students. I’ll expect you to do the same. Goodnight, Yamada.”

“Aiz…”

Shouta was already gone, leaving only the echoes of his quickened footsteps behind. Hizashi lost track of time again, standing at the top of the stairwell until the sun left the sky. Was this a nightmare? It certainly felt like one. Actually, no. Nightmares felt real. This didn’t feel real. Only the ache of his legs and the cold breeze felt real.

Hizashi walked very slowly back to his apartment, unable to stop thinking about the way Shouta had looked at him. The box was still on his porch, and within it was everything that apparently reminded Shouta of him. Hizashi heavily debated whether or not to take it inside or just throw it off the balcony, eventually deciding to take it in, hoping it was all a nightmare, or that it was some kind of cruel prank, or some strange spell Shouta and their students had fallen under… 

Strange spell...

Hizashi found his phone, not surprised to find a text from Shouta telling him he was on his way to drop off his stuff. He swiped past it, then opened a search engine instead.

“Quirks that make someone break up with you for no reason”

A definition of Quirks popped up, followed by several Cosmopolitan articles.

“Break up quirks”

Several ‘breakdown’ lists of quirks, missing the phrase ‘up’.

“Quirks that erase love”

Hizashi should have known better, as the keywords ‘quirk’ and ‘erase’ brought up a slew of Eraserhead results, including his favorite picture of Shouta - a press shot of him in his Hero gear, demonstrating his capture weapon. Shouta hated the picture, just as he hated every picture of himself, but Hizashi loved it.

He loved Shouta.

Just what the hell had he done?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Present Mic’s Newest Gig - Has Eraserhead Been Erased?” 

The headline and accompanying picture was inescapable. It was on every social media feed, television, jumbo-tron, and grocery store newsstand in Japan.

Despite this, Aizawa still showed up to school, on time and on schedule, looking as he often did - disheveled and tired. It was a little comforting, Shoto thought at first, though the toll of the breakup going viral made itself known in other ways, such as Aizawa acting far more apathetic than usual. He called on literally anyone who raised their hand, even if it was the same students over and over. When provided a wrong answer, he didn’t probe too hard for the correct one like he usually did, simply stating the correct answer himself before moving on, voice monotone and passionless. Well, more monotone and passionless. He allowed Katsuki to doodle something that remotely resembled Deku with his hair on fire, while Denki and Eijiro passed notes (as if they didn’t have cell phones) and, probably most profoundly, allowed Rikido to sleep in class.

Shoto exchanged worried looks with Momo, who also seemed to have noticed their teacher’s unusual lack of spirit as well. Shouta Aizawa was running on auto-pilot, pushing himself to teach while his personal life was being put on blast by every seedy media corporation in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class 1-A, with the exception of Shoto, Izuku, Ochaco, and Momo, seemed pleasantly surprised to find Midnight standing at the podium in English class. Unlike Aizawa, news of the picture had apparently sent Yamada into hiding.

“Mr. Yamada is home sick today, so I’ll be taking over for him,” Kayama explained, careful not to give away too much, “After lunch, you’re all to return back here for Art History. I’d rather not have to shuffle my things between two classrooms if I don’t have to, so I’ll shuffle all of you instead. Work smarter, not harder… depending on what you’re doing, anyways.”

Minoru Mineta made a semblance of a wheeze, one of his first signs of life since the scandal had begun. He’d been unusually quiet otherwise, probably sensing he’d made a mistake by carelessly circulating the photo throughout the school and not having the foresight to stop Touma from posting it to social media before it was too late.

Kayama did her best to get through Yamada’s “ineligible” notes, mostly sticking to having them read from a book written entirely in English. But just like Aizawa, they could sense she was somewhat unfocused and troubled, checking her phone far more than usual.

Once 1-A was dismissed for lunch, however, all Hell broke loose.

Shoto wasn’t sure who had spotted Mr. Yamada first, but a majority of the students had already cornered him in a hallway near the entrance. For being a Pro, Yamada looked positively startled and broken, his usual spike of hair hanging in uneven locks around his face.

“You know, if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be here,” said Katsuki, arms crossed as he stared at his teacher defiantly.

Shoto knew that tone of voice and his heart leapt; sometimes Katsuki was an even bigger hothead than his damn father was, but he wasn’t dumb enough to go head-to-head with a teacher on school grounds, was he? It seemed as though Izuku picked up on this as well, as Shoto spotted him trying to rush up to the front of the stand-off where Katsuki was.

“Yeah. Go home, Mr. Yamada,” agreed Eijiro, stirring up the other students, some of whom were outside of 1-A.

Before Shoto and Izuku could attempt to break up the line and share what they had learned from Touma, a very loud and very obvious voice, second only to Mic himself, broke out over the crowd.

All Might, dressed in his sunflower-yellow pinstripe suit, rushed beside Yamada in a cloud of smoke that generated solely from how fast he’d appeared, and looked out over the student body, smiling like usual, like there wasn’t a single thing wrong in the entire world.

“Mr. Yamada, a quick word?” All Might said, knowingly stepping between Yamada and the students, before a rush of wind shot out over their heads.

Just like that, All Might had swept Yamada out of the scene. In his wake, a small form appeared - Principle Nezu.

The atmosphere changed immediately as he looked over them, usual tea cup in hand.

“Students, shouldn’t you all be in the cafeteria?”

No arguing with that.

As they re-routed to the cafeteria, Shoto couldn’t help but think of how calculated the teacher’s rescue operation had been. Geez, what had Yamada been thinking, coming on property at a time like that? There was no way he’d get anywhere near Mr. Aizawa, not if Class 1-A had anything to do about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The teacher’s lounge was thankfully empty as Toshinori escorted a very distraught Hizashi inside.

“Would you like a coffee, or tea?” Toshinori asked, to which the other blonde simply shook his head ‘no’.

Toshinori took to the couch across from Hizashi, whom he hadn’t seen look this bad since an incident during his Bronze Age days. But at least those had been the kind of wounds that could be healed by Recovery Girl.

“I thought it was all bad enough,” Hizashi said after a while, “but now the entire school seems to hate me, too…”

“They don’t hate you,” Toshinori said, though he knew his words weren’t exactly convincing, “They’re simply suffering from the same amount of ignorance as Mr. Aizawa is.”

Hizashi forced a small laugh, but returned to leaning on his knees and staring at the floor. “I just can’t believe they’d believe it so easily. Well, no. That’s not true. I get the kids. But Shouta…? Smartest guy I know… how could he doubt me so much, y’know?”

“Haven’t you talked to him?”

“I’ve tried to. Several times. But he’s blocked me on just about everything you can be blocked on. Even our work email, somehow. That’s why I was going to try to catch him today, during lunch. Didn’t expect the entire student body to tell me otherwise, but yeah, here we are... I just want him to hear me out, for five minutes. That’s all it would take to explain to him that I have no idea who that girl even was and that she kissed me because I’d got her purse back from some crook! It all happened so fast that I wasn’t even sure it happened at all. I seriously didn’t even remember it until the tabloids came out… ughh, I can’t believe this…”

Toshinori watched as Hizashi ran his hands through his hair, yanking the strands up in frustration.

“Well, maybe I can have a word with Mr. Aizawa?” Toshinori offered.

“Ha,” laughed Hizashi, “Good luck. He won’t hear anyone out. Not me, not Ken, not even Midnight… they’ve all tried but he just gives them this generic ‘please don’t talk to me about personal matters at work’ crap!”

The door opened, signaling the arrival of Principal Nezu, who seemed a little less-than-enthused, to say the least. Hizashi and Yagi greeted him, but he strode past them to look out the window quietly.

“It seems that even our students are buying into what the press is selling…” Nezu pondered aloud, “And if our students believe it, then that’s the only truth that will matter.”

Hizashi watched as Principal Nezu turned to look at him. “Mr. Yamada, I understand this is a personal matter for yourself and Mr. Aizawa, but if it’s going to affect UA in this way then I must ask you both to come to a clear resolution immediately.”

“Tell Aizawa that.” Hizashi remarked, folding his arms.

“I already have, and he says he’s already requested professionalism from you. I’m sorry for how things are, truly, but you’re going to have to abide by this request or I’ll be forced to… restructure.”

“You mean you’ll fire me?”

“That’s not what he said, Yamada.” Toshinori cut in.

“All Might - please…” Principal Nezu took the last sip of his tea, then cleared his throat, “Mr. Yamada, there are many other schools who could… appreciate what you have to offer.”

“Tch…” Hizashi just nodded his head, mostly in disbelief.

“Have a good rest of your day, both of you,” Nezu said.

No sooner than the door closed, Hizashi stood up slowly. “I think… I’m gonna head home. Think about things. Say, Yagi. If you do happen to chat with Aizawa… ask him if there’s anything of his he wants back. Catch ya later, I guess...”

Toshinori could only watch on as Hizashi sauntered towards the door. He grit his teeth.

‘I’m sorry, Mr. Yamada, but I’m not going to ask him that.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku felt as though he was underwater, too lost in thought over the situation with his teachers to really hear any of the talking going on around him. Eventually, a concerned voice caught his attention - Ochaco’s.

“Deku, aren’t you going to eat?”

Izuku looked down at his plate, finally realizing that he hadn’t touched it yet.

“I… don’t really feel hungry…” Izuku answered slowly, before looking up suddenly. “I need to go. I’m sorry. I’ll catch you in class, alright?”

“Deku, wait!”

Izuku left behind his tray, Ochaco, and the cafeteria. Maybe it wasn’t too late to catch Present Mic and ask him for his truth himself, like Shoto had suggested. Without thinking, Izuku burst into the teacher’s lounge, only finding a startled Toshinori Yagi.

“Young Midoriya!” He exclaimed, smoke puffing around him as he took his Hero form, “Students are not allowed in the faculty lounge, you know!”

“All Might - where is Mr. Yamada?” Izuku asked, though even he had to admit it sounded more like a demand, “I need to talk to him about something.”

“And what would that be?”

“The picture!” Izuku said, “Todoroki, me, and few others… we don’t think it’s what everyone is hyping it up to be. We just want to hear Mr. Yamada out.”

All Might paused, reverting back to his true form, then turned to Izuku.

“I think I may be able to help...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, Toshinori watched uneasily as Shouta poured himself shot after shot of whiskey; what had once been a brand new bottle was steadily falling under the halfway-mark, and Toshinori had yet to pour any for himself. He knew Shouta needed this, though. Not the alcohol, but what it provided: an escape from the situation. If it weren’t for his duty to Class 1-A, Toshinori was pretty sure that Shouta would have left the country by now. So Toshinori merely allowed his friend to imbibe, but only within reason... reason that was quickly reaching a limit.

Shouta was dead-set on gaining the Don’t-Give-A-Fuck Quirk that alcohol so easily provided. He’d repay Toshinori for the bottle later and do penance for his sins with what would surely be the worst hangover on record the next day. Just so long as he could forget how to feel for a while. Forget the picture. Forget Hizashi. Forget the world.

Shouta reached for the bottle again, but found a large hand suddenly placed over his own. He stared at it, struggling to focus, then realized it was Toshinori’s. He glanced up at the other man, confused.

“You might want to slow down between shots,” Toshinori advised, with a polite smile that Shouta suddenly felt drawn to.

Wouldn’t that be something, Shouta thought drunkenly as he took in the rest of Toshinori, sitting so closely beside him. Wouldn’t that be just the thing to end the tale of him and Present Mic - for him to instead be with All Might. Toshinori wouldn’t cheat on him. He was too valiant, too kind, too...

Toshinori recognized the shift in Shouta’s eyes way too late; it was only a second, but Shouta had already moved in for a kiss. It took a lot for Toshinori to turn away from him. Aside from looking like an absolute hermit, Shouta had always been really beautiful to him, with a heart too big than he let on. But that heart was shattered right now and Shouta was drunk on half a bottle of whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” Toshinori breathed as he clenched his fists.

Shouta didn’t ask why. He just turned away and fell quiet again, his long dark hair falling over his face like a curtain. After a moment, Toshinori heard the sound of the bottle scraping off the coffee table and the sound of liquid being poured into a glass again.

“I think you should stop, now…” Toshinori said hesitantly.

“You won’t let me kiss you and now you won’t let me drink,” said Shouta, and Toshinori wasn’t sure if he had meant to say it out loud.

“Because I think you’ve had enough, Aizawa.”

“Aizawa…” Shouta repeated mockingly, chuckling to himself. He’d had enough, alright.

“Shouta,” Toshinori corrected, his voice settling back down to it’s more natural state, “I know things are stressful for you right now. As someone who was in the media spotlight nearly their whole career, I know how... intrusive it can be. But I promise it’s temporary. It’ll blow over as soon as the next thing happens. You just need to ride out the storm.”

“I’ve been riding it out,” Shouta argued, “And when it blows over - what then? I’ve still lost my best friend. Hm. Figures. It’s all I ever seem to do...”

Toshinori swallowed hard, understanding that Shouta was referencing Oboro Shirakumo, whom he had lost in an accident back in their high school days. Before Toshinori could even articulate how to respond to that, Shouta rose up from the couch suddenly.

“We never should have done it,” Shouta began, “I knew it would ruin our friendship. I told him it would. But he said he loved me, Toshinori. And I believed him, and we…”

Toshinori watched as Shouta cringed from a memory that he would never know of. He wanted to hug his friend, badly, but he knew Shouta would probably react in a way that wouldn’t be easy to reject. Toshinori wasn’t sure if he’d be able to deny Shouta another kiss. But for the sake of Hizashi, Shouta, and their students, Toshinori kept his distance, allowing Shouta to pace back and forth across his living room instead.

“I was an idiot, you know,” Shouta continued, “I had suspicions about him for months…”

“O-Oh?”

“Lying about where he’d been, constantly tired, smelling like women’s perfume…” Shouta said of Hizashi, “And I never questioned him. Not once. Do you know why? Because love turns you into a completely irrational fucking idiot.”

Toshinori didn’t know how to react to Shouta’s sudden outpouring of information; he knew Shouta wasn’t lying, he had no reason to, but he also knew that Hizashi wasn’t that type of guy. He was eccentric, funny, and loud - God, was he loud - but he wasn’t some heartless playboy. He openly gushed over Shouta every chance he got. He played songs for Shouta over the radio every single night. He was Shouta’s best friend for over a decade before they finally realized there was something a little more than friendship going on, a friendship that Toshinori knew neither of them would throw down the drain for something that hadn’t been substantial.

“I think that may be your problem, my friend,” said Toshinori finally.

Shouta stopped pacing and smirked. “And what’s that, Yagi? That I’m an idiot? You can say it. No need to keep playing shy. Tell me the truth. Tell me I’m an idiot.”

“No, though you are acting like one right now,” Toshinori said, “Your problem is that you never questioned Yamada, one way or the other. You never asked him yourself what was going on. You only assumed as much.”

Shouta suddenly glared, eyes flashing red, his hair rising from off of his shoulders, “Are you suggesting that I should have? He only would’ve denied it. He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about, and now that it’s on every single news site and he hasn’t bothered to say a single word to me in person.”

“That’s because the students haven’t let him get near you,” Toshinori finally revealed.

Shouta’s gaze changed back to normal and his hair fell back into place. “...what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shoto felt exhausted by the scandal that never seemed to end. His fellow classmates seemed to feel the same. Everyone missed how things had been before - before their teachers were estranged and unfocused. The rumor floating around about Present Mic possibly being transferred to another school was met with a strange reception, too: some were happy about it, but despite everything, a good few were upset. It seemed as more time had gone on, more of their classmates had started to feel as he did, that Yamada actually hadn’t done anything wrong and that it was a total misunderstanding.

But how could they prove it, other than the word of Mineta’s idiot friend who had started the entire thing to begin with? Aizawa wasn’t having any of it, plain and simple. Shoto had tried to talk to him and he’d been shut down quicker than the time Aizawa had stopped Izuku from throwing a baseball.

It wasn’t until Izuku pulled him aside and informed him of the first promising news he’d heard since everything had begun: Izuku had gained some information from All Might, who had apparently had a little heart-to-heart with Aizawa after school hours, which revealed much more to the situation.

Aizawa wasn’t reacting based solely on a picture or the ensuing tabloids, as everyone had originally thought. He was reacting to several months-worth of suspicions over Yamada, who apparently had been very secretive over his whereabouts and even smelled like perfume at times. The revelation made Shoto’s stomach tense up. Had he been wrong, then? Had Mr. Yamada really cheated after all?

The only way to truly know was to ask Mr. Yamada himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We came because we wanted to get your side of the story.” Shoto said to Present Mic after the rest of the class had filed out. Only himself and Izuku had stayed behind.

“Why? Gossip well getting empty on you?” Yamada sneered, pretending like the paperwork on his desk was more important; most of the pages were blank, Shoto noticed.

“No, Mr. Yamada. We… sincerely just want to hear you out. We don’t believe all the tabloids or what everyone else is saying. We don’t think you cheated on Mr. Aizawa,” said Izuku.

“Then that makes two people on the entirety of planet Earth,” Yamada huffed, “Honestly, after being drowned in this for a week, I’m starting to think I really did.”

“Well, did you?” Shoto said, voice firm.

“‘Course I didn’t! That picture - that lady - I have no idea who she even was.”

“But… she’s kissing you…”

“Yes, yes, yes, because I was able to stop some jerk from stealing her purse. She was so grateful about it that she decided to jump up and smooch me - pfft, it was so quick that I forgot it even happened.”

“No wonder you were so confused when Mr. Aizawa dumped you…”

“Ya think?! And of course when I saw the picture on the news it finally clicked. But thanks to good ol’ 1-A, I couldn’t get two seconds to explain myself to him. And he’d already blocked me on everything. My only outlet was my radio show, but my producers put me on a leave of absence so I couldn’t get the word out that way either. I was really tempted to just start screaming about it from a rooftop, loud enough for him and all of Japan to hear me, buuuut that’d probably lose me my license… then again, I’ve pretty much lost everything anyways, so what would it matter? I’m kidding! Sort of.”

Shoto and Izuku glanced towards the door, where they saw Toshinori give them a thumbs-up.

Shoto cleared his throat. Stay focused. “What were you doing downtown that night, anyways? You weren’t in costume, so it definitely wasn’t Patrol, and it was too early for your radio show… and far.”

Yamada removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You won’t believe me… ah, but what’s new? That was because of a side-gig I picked up about two months ago.”

“Side-gig?”

“I was washing dishes, alright?!”

“Is that code for -”

“Midoriya. No, it’s not code for anything. I was li-ter-ally washing dishes at Tonkatsu.”

“Tonkatsu? The ramen shop? Why?” Izuku asked the obvious.

“Because it’s my favorite hobby, on top of teaching you little annoyances, screaming at would-be villains, and running a radio show every night until 5am,” Hizashi said sarcastically, “To earn extra cash, duh.”

“Extra cash? For what?” asked Izuku.

“Sheesh. You kids really ought to stick to Hero work instead of detective work...” Yamada said as he fished out a small box from his jacket pocket.

“Mic -”

“This,” Yamada said, flipping open the ring box to reveal a sleek, tungsten engagement ring.

“You were going to propose to Mr. Aizawa…!” Izuku marveled, before clasping a hand over his mouth. Crap. Aizawa was right outside the door with Toshinori. Had he overheard that?

“Glad I didn’t have to explain that part, too,” Yamada teased, before sighing and tucking the box away.

“I don’t understand, why didn’t you just tell Mr. Aizawa that you picked up another job instead?” Shoto asked.

“Because he would’ve figured it out! Just like he figured out every single other thing I tried to surprise him with! When I got the idea to propose, I knew I had to be sneaky about it or he’d catch on! I just thought he might be a little smarter and know it wasn’t because I was freaking cheating on him! I guess I gave Eraser too much credit…”

Izuku jabbed Shoto with his elbow suddenly.

“U-Um. What about the perfume?” Shoto asked.

“Perfume?” Yamada repeated.

“Mr. Aizawa said you came home a few times, smelling like women’s perfume…” Shoto asked, feeling awkward as he did so.

“Did he honestly tell you guys that? As a class? Wow, he really does hate me now, doesn’t he?”

“So it’s true?” questioned Izuku, doing well to hide the fact they were the only two students from 1-A who knew, and only due to All Might letting Aizawa drink himself into a practical coma.

“Ugh. Yes, okay? But it wasn’t because I was cuddling up to some no-name lady during my dishwashing gig. It was a… personal thing…”

Shoto looked to Izuku unsurely, then back to Yamada. No way Izuku was going to ask the weird questions. Shoto cleared his throat, biting the bullet. “Do you... like smelling like a woman?”

“NO!” Hizashi boomed, his Quirk slightly blowing both Izuku and Shoto’s hair back.

“I’m gonna spit this out as quick as I can and then I’m done playing Sherlock with you two, ya dig? One time Aizawa and I planned a sort’ve - I don’t know - picnic-y thing…”

“That’s ah... cute…” tried Izuku, voice cracking. Shoto wanted to smack his own head.

“Shuddap! It was very impromptu,” Yamada said, crossing his legs, “So much so, that we didn’t realize a freak storm was rolling in and wheeeew - before we knew it, we were being doused in rain. It was so heavy that we had to stay underneath a tree for almost two whole hours until it finally let up enough for us to bounce. By the time we got home, we both had this… I dunno, earthy, rainy smell going on? Then Shouta made fun of my hair, which was totally ruined. He said I looked like a ‘sad daffodil’, so I told him he looked like a komondor. You know - that dog that looks like a literal mop? And then… he just started laughing.”

‘Mr. Aizawa laughing…? Why is that such an unsettling thought?’ Both Izuku and Shoto thought.

“I mean, I could’ve sworn I swapped Quirks with Ms. Joke for a second because I’d never made him laugh that much in my life… and ever since, I started checkin’ this perfume store next door to Tonkatsu for something resembling the rainy smell from that day.”

“The day you made him laugh,” Izuku echoed.

“Yeah. Never did find that smell again, not that it really matters that much anymore…” Hizashi sighed, before standing, “So, are we done here or -”

He trailed off, as he noticed Shouta standing at the door, mouth parted slightly in shock.

“Hizashi… is all of that true?” Shouta asked.

After a moment of shock, Hizashi fought back a sad smile. “‘Course it is, dummy. You really think I’d throw us away for anyone else?”

Shouta looked down, and Shoto noticed a slight trembling on his teacher’s shoulders that didn’t seem to be from his capture weapon.

“I’m… sorry,” Shouta murmured, “I acted completely irrationally. I should have spoken with you about it, instead of...”

Izuku watched a shift in Hizashi’s face and he glanced at Shoto worriedly. Shoto looked back, equally unsure if they were being rude by staying. Just when they got the thought to sprint to All Might and leave the two instructors in peace, Hizashi suddenly got down on his knee before Shouta and withdrew the box from his jacket once again.

“You said it yourself once,” Hizashi said as he gently opened the box, “Love isn’t rational. Makes even the smartest people stupid. Surprise, by the way.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gym class was brutal.

Well, at least for everyone except for Izuku, Ochaco, Shoto, and Momo.

It was especially brutal for Mineta, who had… somehow… earned an extra 20 laps around the track that he was expected to finish within the period.

As most of 1-A jogged along the track, Shoto glanced down from the bleachers at Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada, who stood side-by-side, observing, smiling, and sometimes even laughing - about what was anyone’s guess - but it was nice to see them somehow closer than they were before, and that UA was back to normal.

Shoto looked to Izuku, who was looking worriedly at the track.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Shoto asked him, “Do you feel guilty or something?”

“Yes,” Izuku admitted, “It feels weird just sitting here while everyone else has to run.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Midoriya,” Momo said, sunglasses on and feet propped up on the bench beside them. Ochaco mirrored her.

Shoto smirked at the girls and looked back at the track, where Mineta was visibly wearing down and practically sobbing as he struggled to keep running.

“Only 14 more to go, Mineta!” Cheered Present Mic, which was replied to with an audible groan.

“Thanks for everything, guys,” Shoto said suddenly.

“Hey, no problem. We should really be thanking you, you know,” Izuku said.

“Yeah, if it hadn’t been for you, we probably would have believed it like everybody else,” Ochaco stated, causing Shoto’s chest to stir.

“Seriously,” Momo chuckled, tilting her sunglasses up, “I was about to take Mr. Yamada out before you talked to me… thank you, Shoto.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Ochaco added.

“No problem,” Shoto sighed, mostly from relief, then looked up at the sky as a few clouds drifted over the sun.

He wondered if it might rain. He thought about the story Mr. Yamada had told them about the picnic, and Mr. Yamada and Mr. Aizawa themselves, dressed in gym clothes, running the same track when they were his age. Would he go on to know someone from 1-A for that long? Would he develop some kind of relationship like that, with someone he already knew from here?

Shoto had never really thought about it before that moment, but as the clouds moved and the sun returned, he found that he liked the idea of it.

The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for this prompt, phoenixtodoroki! I really enjoyed writing it. First attempt at erasermic. Still feeling out all the characters and things. If you liked this, please drop me an ask for anything you’d like me to fill relating to this ship - I’d like to keep my spark going. Thank you for reading. I’ll put this on my ao3 soon.

Also, I was thinking of writing a bonus companion fic to this one regarding the disaster picnic - let me know if you’d like that sort of thing! ^^ - numby

[tessatechaitea]

Justice Society of America #6 (1993)

Weak as an asthmatic kitten in light!

Do cats get asthma? I'd hate for somebody to fact check and discover I once said an incorrect thing! My reputation as a staunch teller of ultimate truths is on the line here. Anyway, if it turns out cats can't get asthma, I was speaking euphemistically and you were too dumb to understand that. Dumby. I don't want to call my readers "dumby" but you remember that part about me being a staunch teller of ultimate truths? Well, sorry to reveal something your parents were too cowardly to confide to you. I was too busy contemplating how incredibly fucking cute and sweet a little coughing asthmatic kitten would be pay attention to the cover of JSA #6. But now that I've really looked at it, I'm confused as to why Doctor Mid-Nite is beating up zookeepers. I hesitate to assume the reason is that he's blind because that would probably be ableist. Maybe he was just molested by zookeepers as a young man. An aside: the family member I admire most on Facebook is the one who posts absolutely nothing about anything but every now and then unlocks a badge from Untappd.

Is this an historically accurate Nazi uniform? It looks like she's trying to make the shape of a swastika.

Ugh. I can't believe I just became one of those people who put "an" in front of "historically." It's weird how a little bit of side-boob can make me start thinking, "Were the Nazis really so terrible?" But this is a fictional world where they actually weren't that terrible! They even had a giant war Ferris wheel that would roll around ravaging the world and genociding people. Kind of exactly like a carnival, really. In the real world, Nazis were super bad and they are the villains of every action movie ever set from 1938 to, I'm assuming, 2021. I'm sure we're right around the corner from a Wicked-style Broadway musical from the perspective of Adolf Hitler where the audience learns that he wasn't really the bad guy the earlier protagonists made him out to be. If you don't want that to happen, you'll probably need to go back in time to murder John Gardner before he writes Grendel because I'm pretty sure that's where this whole "let's examine the life and motivations of the bad guy outside of the light of the previous protagonist's propaganda!"

I was thoroughly anti-Nazi when I began reading this comic book but these side-boob arguments are really winning me over.

How are the JSA going to win me back to their side?! They only have one woman on the team and Hawkgirl doesn't ever show any side-boob! I'm afraid America is about to fall and all I can think is, "Hee hee hee. Hee hee hee. Boobies." The Justice Society flies in to spout some patriotic garbage about liberty while The Flash beats up all the Nazis during the first third of the speech. I wonder if The Flash ever gets emotionally exhausted having to bear so much of the load of battling the bad guys. It's a good thing he's not one of those jerks you always wind up working with who never wants to do more work than the next guy so he always works as slowly as possible. But the problem in blue collar work is that most of the people you wind up working with are that guy! So their work output winds up being that of the lowest common denominator. Imagine if The Flash was one of those guys! He'd have to wait for Doctor Mid-Nite to throw a smoke bomb and fist fight a guy for five minutes before The Flash would take out his man in one second (after standing around for four minutes and fifty-nine seconds). The battle goes poorly for the Nazis which I'm elated to see because, you know, proud patriot here and all. Boo Nazis! Boo? Boob! Nazi side-boobs! Go Nazis! As the Nazis nearly defeated, they launch a huge bomb at the White House (which is where this fight is taking place because the Nazis are trying to kill Roosevelt).

"Look! Up in the sky! A noise!"

Yes, you perverts. That's the leg of the side-boob Nazi on the left and if I'd scanned a little bit more, you would have had a nice crotch shot. Sorry to disappoint you, horny nerds. Green Lantern lets the bomb explode on a big green patriotic shield because the Nazi's were too dumb to make the bomb out of two by fours. Wildcat says, "Yay!", as Roosevelt watches through a nearby window. His nurse, Nancy, approaches him slowly from behind. She pulls a Nazi pistol on him, full of Nazi bullets! It looks like the end! But then a bag of sand hits her in the side of the face and she forgets to pull the trigger as she says, "Gast! I'll...ooooh!" Then she dies, I guess? The Nazi story was being told to Jesse Quick by Alan and Jay. It was never reported because the American populace is too weak to hear certain news items. Why when we think about a population as a whole, we attribute all of the worst attributes to them? Cowardly, stupid, irrational. Why don't we think, "I would react fine to that news so I'm assuming everybody else would too." Instead, we simply assume everybody is a bigger and weaker jerk than we are. Weird that I'm as cynical as you can get but I'm somehow not as cynical as the average person? No, no! I'm more cynical! I just use my cynicism for good!

He didn't say that, Jesse. What he might be trying to express though is that coming down hard on criminals when much of the crime is driven by systemic problems resulting in an abundance of poverty for which the government takes no action to mitigate might be a bigger evil than the crime itself. Much of crime is a symptom of a bigger problem that is harder to fix so people ignore it and try to just hide the symptoms by putting them in jail.

Alan just doesn't quite have the words (or the real world experience of the 60s, 70s, and 80s because he was in Valhalla) to express how the constant lowering of taxes on the upper brackets of income have caused the slow destruction of the middle class by allowing CEOs and upper management to keep more of their money instead of reinvesting it into the business because they'd rather improve their business than give away 99% of their income after a certain point to the government. And by allowing them to keep that money, they stopped putting it into the business which meant salaries stagnated, pensions disappeared, and health care was no longer an automatic company benefit. I'm sure that's what he was getting at though. Jay's wife interrupts so we can finally see she exists six issues into the series. Alan's beard, Molly, also arrives. You might be wondering why "Jay's wife" is only "Jay's wife" but you shouldn't ask me that question. Ask the comic book who thinks I'm supposed to remember her name from whenever it was last mentioned, if at all. Maybe Linda? Let's just go with Linda. The Justice Society is on a ship because they're headed to Bahdnesia which doesn't allow plane travel in and out of its country. That's probably because air traffic control would be a nightmare with all the genies flying around. That was a joke but I bet it's the actual reason as well. Oh! It's Joan! Ted mentions it to Al after he gets tangled up in his deck chair while wearing an ice bucket on his head. I think Al might be having some old person cognition problems.

Nothing suspicious about a country run like a well-armed Applebee's.

Doctor Mid-Nite decides to check behind the scenes to see what's going on. The place is run like Disneyland so he enters the employee only backstage section to investigate. He's eventually attacked by some guards (see the cover!) and his story ends mid-fight. Meanwhile, Ted winds up climbing into a boxing ring to stop a fight that he believes is a huge mismatch. He knocks out the big guy even though the big guy doesn't necessarily mean he's the bad guy. Ted is basically interfering in a business transaction or, even worse, a staged event! Which means he climbs in the ring and begins beating up one of the actors. Guards also swarm him and he thinks, "What are these guys doing here?!" As if what he's doing is just fine and dandy. Didn't he hear the announcement about how nobody breaks the rules here? This is why! They get swarmed with violent guards! Justice Society of America #6 Rating: B-. Nothing says "The titular team's best days are behind them!" like a story where the only interesting thing that happens happens in a flashback. The whole cruise and island exploration part of the story was a big snooze. And it only ends in two members battling guards who are only doing their jobs to keep the JSA members from breaking the rules. Poor guards are going to get their asses whooped when they're only doing their job! I'm totally into the whole "I was just following orders" excuse thanks to the unbeatable side-boob argument.

[talpup]

Erase the Shadow: Chapter 7

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/53989750

7.1

Tsukauchi escorted Shouta out into the precincts main hall.  “When I called you about this, I didn’t expect you to show up.”

“I was nearby.”  Shouta said, stretching the truth.

His apartment could arguably be considered nearby depending on what level of distance they were talking about.

Reaching a deserted section of hallway, Tsukauchi held out a staying hand and stopped walking.

Shouta’s eyebrows pulled together as he came to a stop beside the Detective.

Tsukauchi looked around wanting to be sure no one else was close enough to hear them.  “Care to tell me what’s going on here, Eraser?”

Playing dumb wasn’t Shouta’s style, so instead he remained silent despite knowing Tsukauchi would press.  He almost turned and resumed walking, but that felt too much like running away.

“When you asked me if I ever heard mention of the Void, and to please inform if I did, I figured it was for a case you were working on and didn’t ask too many questions.  But now a villain’s tried to blow up a power plant in the name of this Void and killed himself rather than be apprehended by Ingenium.  So case or not.  I need to know. What’s going on?  Who or what is this Void?”

“I have nothing of use.”  Shouta said.

Not giving up, Tsukauchi countered.  “Well considering we have nothing. Anything would be of use.  Is the Void a person or a group?  What do they want?”

Shouta rubbed his forehead.

What could he to say?  That the Void was a dark, shadowy figure that occasionally came to haunt him and Teris in their shared dreams. That it had been doing so since they were children; but only recently had became solid enough to touch them.  That it could touch them but neither of them could touch it.  That when the Void had gotten a hold of Teris he hadn’t been able to help cause they couldn’t touch either.  And that no, Tsukauchi couldn't even verify this crazy story with Teris; because she didn’t remember any of it upon waking.

“I have nothing, Tsukauchi.”  Shouta said.  “Truly.  I don’t.”

Shouta wished he did.  He wished he understood why Teris didn’t remember their dreams, or why the Void was occasionally there and growing more powerful.  But he didn’t.

“You’ve got to know something.”  Tsukauchi pressed.  “You came to me with the name before I or anyone else had ever heard of it.”

I only came to you because of something the Void had said the last time it had shown up, Shouta thought.  The fact that the Void now had a voice was a recent and disturbing thing.

Shouta opened his mouth to respond, but a voice cut in before he could speak.

“Aizawa?” Tensei’s smiled widened as he drew closer.  He clasped his friend's shoulder in greeting and spoke to Tsukauchi.  “Sansa told me you have everything you need.  But don’t hesitate to call if you have any more questions.”

Tsukauchi inclined his head.  “Thank you, Ingenium.  Eraser.”  His eyes briefly pierced Shouta’s.  “Feel free to call me if anything comes to mind.”

“I will.”  Tensei said.

Shouta gave Tsukauchi a curt nod and made for the exit.

He hated not telling the Detective what little he knew.  Tsukauchi wasn’t what Shouta would call a friend; but they had worked together enough times that he felt he could count on him.  Contacts like those were rare and hard to come by.  But if his own soulmate didn’t even believe him when he had told her the truth, Tsukauchi would surely think he was crazy.

Tensei’s phone dinged.  “Awesome!”

He replied to the text glad that he had been able to change out of his costume before coming to the precinct and pocketed the phone.

Shouta was almost to the exit when Tensei caught up to him.

“So, are you coming?”

Shouta almost said no; but it would be illogical without knowing what he was saying no to, even if he had a pretty good idea.  “Where?”

Tensei pushed opened the door, holding it for Shouta.  “Not sure yet.”

Shouta stepped out into the night and halted.  “Yamada.”

What was Hizashi doing here?  Much to Shouta’s heartache and annoyance, he was well aware that his friend would be spending the week at Teris’.  Maybe the two had broken up?  A twisted relief washed over him at that thought.

“Forget you have a phone or just ignoring my texts, Shou?”  Hizashi questioned, giving Tensei a smile.

“Where’s Teris?”  Tensei asked.

“What?” Shouta blinked.

Teris. Was she here?  Shouta’s eyes scanned the sidewalk.

“I sent you several texts.”  Hizashi told, then turned to Tensei. “She’s with Nemuri.  They needed some girl time.”

Hizashi had made Teris tell Nemuri about Endeavor’s visits.  Suffice it to say, girl time was going to involve a lot of chastising on Nemuri's part.

Shouta pouted into his capture weapon.  He had received Hizashi's texts.  He just hadn’t read them.  Of course he would’ve skimmed them eventually.  He simply hadn’t been in the mood to look them over at the time.  Not when Hizashi was spending the week with the woman that he was meant to be with.

“Well, not that I don’t already know the answer.”  Hizashi went on talking to Shouta.  “But, do you wanna go out and party with us tonight?”

Shouta almost said no.  It was instinctual.  He didn’t like going out. And partying was the worst.  On top of that, it was the night of the new moon.  The night he got to see and spend time with Teris in their dreams.

But, Teris was here.  And if Hizashi was going, then logic unfortunately dictated that Teris would be meeting him.

The thought of seeing Teris in person made Shouta's heart race.  To spend time with her.  Real world time, where they might touch…

“Alright.” Shouta answered.

“Really?” Tensei beamed.  “Alright!”

Hizashi's smile tightened a fraction.  “That’s great man.  You never say yes.”

Tensei threw his arms around the two.  “And Kan said he was good to meet too.  This is gonna be like the good old days.”

7.2

Kan was already at the bar munching on snacks.  “You’re late.”

“Nah! You’re early.”  Hizashi shot back.

“Where are Nemuri and Teris?”  Tensei asked.

“They’re the ones that ’re late.”  Hizashi said.  “Girls.  Am I right?”

“What does that make you?”  Shouta muttered, taking a seat.

“What’s that suppose to mean!”

“Aizawa’s right Yamada.”  Tensei said, moving around the table.  “You always took longer than the girls.”

“Everyone was always left waiting for you to shower and get ready after special training.”  Kan agreed.

“Hey! You think this just happens?”  Hizashi asked, pointing to his loose, luminescence hair.  “I mean I know I’m hot, but even I gotta put some effort in if I wanna catch eyes.”

“And why would you want to do that?”  Teris questioned from behind.

“Baby!” Hizashi spun around and hugged her.

Sliding around the kissing couple, Nemuri sat between Shouta and Kan.

“Answer the question, Zashi.  Why would you want to catch someone's eye?” Nemuri teased.

“I didn’t get to finish.”  Hizashi said, still holding Teris close.

“There was more?”  Teris questioned.

“This should be good.”  Nemuri smirked.

“Totally!” Hizashi answered Teris, hands gliding up at down her arms.  “What I was gonna say was, even I gotta put in some effort if I wanna catch eyes or keep the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Nice save.”  Teris chuckled.

“Save? Ris!  Baby!  I meant every word of it.  You’re the most drop dead gorgeous girl there is, Ris Wren.”

“You sure you’re wearing the right prescription?”  Teris teased, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Aren’t they adorable!”  Nemuri gushed.

Kan scowled at her as she picked food off his plate.  “There’s a menu on the table, Nemuri.”

Shouta stared at the tabletop.  He didn’t want to see the woman he loved in another mans arms.

“Do I have to show you just how amazing you are again?”  Hizashi asked, voice lowering.

Teris trembled at the deeper timber and memory of Hizashi worshiping her body.

“I missed you, Ris.”  Hizashi whispered, once again leaning in to kiss her.

Teris pulled back from his encroaching face.  “It’s been what?  Two hours?”

“So? I still missed you, Babe.  These two weeks were meant to be just you and me.  And now I gotta share you for the night.”

Teris began to squirm in Hizashi's arms.  People were starting to stare and it was making her uncomfortable.

“Share. What did you have planned for us next week?”

Hizashi grinned down at her.  “How ‘bout I show you when we get back to my place.”

Tensei cleared his throat loudly.

Hizashi turned to him, hold loosening and Teris stepped back.

“Hey, Tensei.”  Teris greeted, her gaze flicking from him to the man she could see over his shoulder.

Shouta. He looked good.  Better than good.  Tired.  But just as handsome as she remembered.  She shook her head, focusing her gaze back on Tensei.  She was with Hizashi.  She shouldn’t be checking out Shouta.  The two were best friends for goodness sake.

True to self, Shouta spoke little as the night progressed.  He had trouble taking his eyes off Teris though; and was sure Hizashi caught him staring a number of times.

Hizashi's arm hung over the back of Teris’ chair as he drank and laughed with his friends.  He had caught Shouta watching Teris several times throughout the night, but that didn’t bother him much.  If anything having Shouta sit across the table while he sat beside his girl filled him with a sense of wicked pride.

Sure Shouta was his best friend, but being in the same class at UA had seen them compete against each other quite often.  In most of their face offs Shouta had won.  Hizashi might've been taller, but Shouta was wider, stronger.  Shouta was also faster and far better trained at hand to hand combat.  And since Shouta could erase his quirk, their matches had always seemed to come down to a physical fight.

Suffice it to say, it felt good to beat his friend at something.  Especially something that they both had wanted for years.

He caught Teris gazing at Shouta again and shifted in his seat.

As much as he liked Shouta watching him with the Teris.  Hizashi didn’t like Teris watching Shouta.

Shouta's eyes meet Teris’ from across the table.  Despite it happening several times already, he breath still caught.  Was she looking at him because she felt him staring?  Was that way she looked so shy and nervous when their eyes meet?  He was acting like a total creeper and needed to stop.  But try as he might, he couldn’t.

“So when and how did this happen?”  Tensei asked, leaning forward and wagging a finger at Hizashi and Teris.

Kan signaled the waitress.  Working with Hizashi at UA, he had heard the tale too many times to count and was tired of it.

“Well...” Hizashi pulled his arm off Teris’ chair and began to tell the story in great detail.

Tuning Hizashi out, Shouta ordered another drink as well.

By the time Hizashi finished Kan and Shouta's drinks had long since been delivered.

“Well I’m happy for the two of you.”  Tensei said.  Sitting beside Hizashi, he clasped him on the shoulder.  “Especially you, Yamada. You’ve had a thing for Teris ever since UA.”

“So did, Aizawa.”  Kan put in, red eyes looking across Kayama to Shouta.

Hizashi's smile faltered.

Teris’ breath caught.

Shouta tensed.

It was a struggle not to give into the urge to duck into his capture weapon.  Instead Shouta bit his tongue and met Kan’s gaze with a steely one of his own.

I had a thing for her way before Hizashi ever met her, Shouta thought. She’s my soulmate, you over muscled idiot.

“That’s right!”  Tensei said, oblivious of the tension.

“You even tried to kiss her, didn’t you, Eraser?  Fed her some line about shared dreams and being soulmates.”  Kan jerked.

Nemuri slammed her heel into the top of Kan’s boot, grinding it in.

If Shouta had been frozen still, he would have ducked into his weapon that time.

Teris stood up.  “Excuse me.”

Hizashi reached after her, mouth open, but she was already gone.

“Leave her.”  Nemuri told Hizashi when he rose from his seat.

Hizashi wanted to argue; but Nemuri knew Teris better than him, and so he sat back down.

Tensei looked around the table.  He felt bad.  It was his question and comment that had started it all.

Nemuri glared at Kan.  “It’s bad enough you were the one who spread the story back then, Vlad.  There was no need to bring it up now.  The only reason you even knew what happened, is because you were lurking around the girls locker room.”

Kan sat to his full height.  “I wasn’t lurking.  And I didn’t spread anything.  I told one person and--”

“It was a private conversation, Vlad.  You shouldn’t have told anyone.” She took Kan’s drink as her own.  “I suppose we should be glad that the only private thing your creep session got you was--”

Kan’s hand hit the table.  “I told you!  I wasn’t...”

But Shouta didn’t hear anything else.  He was too stunned.  All this time he had thought that Teris had spread the tale of his failed confession, while privately laughing at him along with everyone else. To now learn that she had only been confiding in her best friend and Kan had overheard…

He felt so stupid!  He should have known better.

Nemuri could practically see Shouta's mind spinning.

Had the poor guy really thought that the girl he loved had told the entire hero course of his sweet but cheesy line and attempt to kiss her?  Well that explained why Aizawa had never made another move.  He more than Hizashi had had a chance at Teris during the first few months after graduation, before Teris had moved away.

Nemuri's heart went out to him.

Eyeing Shouta's drink, she elbowed it, knocking it over.

“Oh my goodness!  Aizawa, I’m so sorry.  Here.”  Nemuri took a few napkins and patted the damp spot in his pants.

“I got it.”  Shouta gritted, taking the napkins from her.

This was one of the many reasons he didn’t go out.  Too many people. People who spilled things and touched him.

“You should go try and clean that up a bit.”  Nemuri instructed.

Shouta shot her a glaring ‘you think’ and pushed out of his chair.

“Sorry. I’ll buy you another.”  Nemuri called after him.

Shouta stepped out of the bathroom feeling as if he had made a bigger mess. It seemed to be the story of his life.

He sighed looking down a the wet spot in his pants.  Thankfully the black made it nearly impossible to see in the low lighting.

His dark eyes lifted to the table his friends sat.  Teris’ chair was still empty.

His gaze panned the bar looking for her.

7.3

Teris pressed her forehead against to cool brick of the building.  Her breath and anger at Kan had steadied, but she still couldn’t find it in herself to want to go back inside.

Shouta still hated her.  She could tell.  And why wouldn’t he?

He had told her the stupidest, sweetest, most heartfelt tale about being soulmates and sharing dreams, and she had yelled at him and thrown him out.  Then Kan had overheard her asking Nemuri if she thought she could make a relationship work with Shouta given her school and work schedule, and any chance between them had been ruined.  The tale of what had happened that night between Shouta and her had been spread. And Shouta thought she was the one who had spread it.

“If you’re cold you should go inside.”

Teris jumped at the sound of a low, rough voice behind her.  “Shou—Damn it.  Give a girl some warning, would ya.”

“And you call yourself a pro hero.”  Shouta played, smirking lightly.

“All the more reason you shouldn’t go sneaking up on me.  Who knows what I’d do to you.”

“I trust you.”

The light in Teris’ eyes dimmed.

“You’re shivering.”  He noted.

“And you smell like a distillery.”

“You can blame Nemuri for that.  Here.”  He unzipped his black jacket and pulled it off.

“Wha—what are you doing?”

“You’re clearly not ready to go back inside.”  Shouta commented, placing the jacket around her shoulders.  “What kind of hero would I be if I let you freeze?”

“It’s hardly freezing, Shouta.”  Teris said, even as she pulled the jacket tighter around her.

It carried his warmth and scent, and she instantly felt the tension in her neck ease.

“Some friends we have.  Sometimes I wonder why I bother keeping them.” Shouta said, hands sliding into his pockets.

Teris’ head fell, if felt as if he were remarking on her.  Then again, Shouta would have to consider her a friend to wonder why he still kept her as one.

Shouta looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  Here is was trying to bridge the rift between them that had been made all those years ago, yet somehow it felt as if it only grew wider.

It pained him that the easy relationship and tender understanding he and Teris had in their dreams didn’t exist in the real world.  He wanted nothing more than to fix whatever was broken between them but he didn’t know how.

He had already tried telling her the truth once.  And…

“There you are, Baby!”

Shouta's eyes closed at the sound of Hizashi's voice.  He had finally had his long sought moment alone with the woman that he loved, and he had spent it standing around thinking about to say like an idiot.

Hizashi made his way to Teris, standing between her and Shouta.  In one smooth move, he pulled Shouta’s jacket off her and draped his other arm over Teris’ shoulders.

“You’re shivering, Ris.”  Hizashi said, holding Shouta's jacket out for him to take as he led Teris to the door.  “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm, Babe.”

Shouta took back his jacket.

He seriously debated on whether he should just go home.  Hizashi or Nemuri would take care of his bill.  They’d probably even refuse his attempts to pay them back.

But the thought of not sharing a dream with Teris because she was out partying all night with friends made him sick to his stomach. Especially since he could be a part of that group of friends if he stuck around.

His gaze lifted to see Hizashi holding the door open for Teris.

Teris looked back at Shouta, their eyes locking for a moment before Hizashi stepped in the way, following her inside.

“You coming, Shou?”  Hizashi called over his shoulder.

That one shared look with Teris had Shouta’s feet moving after her before he even told them to.

7.4

It was late, or more correctly very early morning.

Shouta sunk into the booth seat across from Hizashi with a long, tired sigh.

“When’s the last time you stayed out all night partying, Man?”

Shouta cracked an eye open and looked at his friend.

“Three coffees, please.  That’s all.”  Hizashi told the cafe’s waitress.

“Does your last garden party count?”  Shouta murmured as the waitress walked away.

“Oh, Man!”  Hizashi sniggered.  “That party was amazing!”

Leaning his head back, Shouta smirked.  “It was some pretty good stuff.”

“Remember Tensei?”

Shouta crossed his arms and sunk deeper into his seat.  “Didn’t he use his turbo against in a race against a paper airplane Kan made?

“Thanks!” Hizashi told the waitress.  “What you you mean, didn’t he?” He stressed, opening several packets of sugar.

“Well it wasn’t my window he crashed through.”  Shouta remarked.

Hizashi laughed at that.  “I think that ruined everyone’s buzz but yours.”

“I was pretty far gone by then.”  Shouta admitted.

Hizashi stirred in four containers of creamer and grinned.  “Yeah.  You were.  We were left tripping around you for the rest of the night.”

“It was a good place to sleep.”

“It was the middle of my living room floor.”

Shouta gave a toothy smile and shrugged.  “Weed makes me sleepy.”

“It also makes you super chill.  You slayed Kan in the karaoke contest earlier that night.”

Shouta exhaled thinking of how he wanted to slay Kan Sekijiro now.

He still couldn’t believe he had ever thought Teris had told everyone. A part of him wondered how things would have turned out between them if he had known back then.

Would she and Hizashi be together now?  Or would he be with her?

He certainly would have made another move after graduation when they had worked uncover on that case shortly before she moved away.

Wanting Shouta’s opinion, Hizashi called.  “Hey.”

Shouta opened an eye.  He saw Teris headed their way and sat up.

Hizashi turned and smiled at his girl.  “Hey there, Baby!  Everything back home alright?”

“Yeah.” Teris said, sitting in the booth beside Hizashi.  “You just turned my life upside down is all.”

“Love 'll do that to you, Sweetheart.”

Shouta stared at the table waiting for Teris to laugh Hizashi off and deny it, but she didn’t.  His heart twisted.  Did she love Hizashi?  The two had only been together eight weeks.  He tried to tell himself that she figured Hizashi was joking.  But the fact that she didn’t refute it still sat uneasy with him.

Seeing her pout, Hizashi put an arm around her.  “I know you’re awesome, Babe.  But they’ll get by without you for two weeks.  Heck!  I bet the case is closed by the time you get back.”

“As if you’d say that if the situation were reversed.  I can’t believe you talked me into coming here early.”

“Whoa! Babe.  You’re making Shouta feel bad.  And I didn’t talk you into anything.  I convinced you.  Which I did a helluva job at, if I may say so myself.”

Teris felt her cheeks warm as she turned to Shouta.  The last thing she wanted was Shouta thinking she didn’t want to be here because of him.

“Sorry.” She apologized.  “It’s not you.  Really.  I’m—I’m actually really glad we got to hang out.  I missed this.”  I missed you, she thought.  She shook her head clear.  “It’s just work--”

“No need to explain.”  Shouta said, glad that she had.  A part of him had already begun to think that she didn’t want to be there because of him.  “I understand.”

“You won’t believe the case she’s working on, Shou.  My girl’s gotta be the best underground hero there is.”

“You’ve always been smart.”  Shouta told her, thinking that he agreed with Hizashi wholeheartedly.

He might not have seen her since Nemuri's twenty-first birthday party, but that didn’t mean he didn’t track her career.  Even if he didn’t love her, Shouta would've loved to work with her.

“Both of you stop it.”  Teris blushed.  “Hizashi’s the Valedictorian here.”

“How he managed that when seventy-five percent of UA’s hero course GPA is decided by practical exams still makes me wonder.”  Shouta huffed giving his friend a toying look.

“It’s called being easy to get along with, Shou. You should try it some time.”  Hizashi said only half playing.  “I mean I know my quirk is distance ranged and deadly.  So even if I wasn’t able to deal with the problem by myself, I was always able to pull everyone together and convince them to do what was needed.”

“What you decided was needed.”  Shouta clarified.

“Same difference.”  Hizashi said.  “I hate to brag--”

“You love to brag.”  Shouta interjected.

“--but we’re the three smartest ones from our graduating class and I got both of you beat by several IQ points.”

Smiling, Teris made a derisive noise.

“Plus, like I said, my quirk is crazy powerful, yo!”

Teris rubbed her ear and joked.  “Even when you’re not using it.”

Hizashi turned to her and smiled.

“Aw, I know you love it when I use my quirk, Babe.  In fact,” Hizashi moved closer and whispered in her ear, “I might just use it on you again when we get to my place.”

The corners of Shouta's lips turned down.

It was stupid and petty to be angry at Hizashi, but he was.  Shouta didn’t want see his best friend whispering to and kissing the woman that he loved; yet for some sick reason, he couldn't help but watch out of the corner of his eye.

Teris shyly accepted Hizashi's nuzzling kiss to her neck and ear.

She wasn’t completely comfortable with such public displays; but had learned to give into Hizashi's affections least she hurt his feelings.  It was actually nice most of the time.  But as it seemed to be with everything about Hizashi, he had to take things to the extreme.

“Control yourself.”  She told, turning to give him a chaste kiss in return.

Hizashi smiled at her light scolding.  “I’m trying, Ris.”

“Try harder.”

Hizashi took her hand and led it under the table.  “I got your harder right here, Babe.”

Teris sucked in a breath at the feel of his semi-hard cock.  She couldn’t help but give it a squeeze.

Hizashi emerald eyes positively smoldered.  “Do that again and I’m taking you out back, Beautiful.”

“Zashi, stop.”  The words came out somewhere between a hiss and a cracked plea.

Grinning widely, Hizashi relented.  His hand lifted off hers as he sat back, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

“Hey, Shou.  You wanna scold my girl for me?”

Teris stiffened under Hizashi's arm.

Shouta’s lifted his head, eyes moving from Teris to Hizashi.

Hizashi’s smile widened.  It really did give him a sick sort of pleasure watching his friend look so uncertain.  And the ache in Shouta's eyes…  Why did he enjoy seeing that hurt so much?

“Zashi.” Teris warned.

“What? You think he won’t hear about it from Nemuri and me?  One of us is bound to tell him, Babe.  Especially since he asks Kayama about you all the time.”

He saw the slight widening of shock in Shouta’s eyes.

That’s right, Hizashi thought his own eyes boring into his friend's.  I know.  Did you really think I didn’t?  You should have quit asking Nemuri about my girl the moment you learned we got together.

It took Shouta half a second to recover enough to form a reply. “Scolding is for children and unruly students.  Teris is an adult.”

“Thank you, Shouta.”  Teris gave Hizashi an ill tempered sideways glance.

Hizashi told Shouta about Endeavor’s visits to Teris’ apartment, and the threats he had made.

“And you didn’t immediately go to the Hero Commission the moment he left the first time?”  Shouta censured.

“What happened to scolding is for kids and me being an adult!”  Teris complained.

“If you had acted like a responsible adult and gone to the Commission then--”

“Acted like a responsible adult!”  Teris cut in over Shouta's words.  “Do you even hear yourself?  You.  The guy who forgets to eat and barely sleeps cause he’s too focused on hero work and his students, is chastising me about being irresponsible.”

Shouta blinked.  He felt a small thrill wondering how she knew about his life style, then realized Hizashi must have told her.

Hizashi turned to her.  With their time together before now being regulated to the weekend, he had rarely talked about anyone, especially Shouta. And when she asked about Shouta, he had done his best to steer the conversation away from him as quickly as possible.

He certainly hadn’t talked about Shouta's minimal self care that had continued over from their days at UA.

So how did she know about Shouta's sleeping and eating habits?  Had his girl been asking Nemuri about Shouta in the same way that Shouta had been asking about her?

Hizashi ground his teeth, smile never wavering.  He was definitely going to have to talk to Nemuri.

“Get a decent meal and few winks of sleep before you try to tell me I’m the irresponsible one, Shou.”  Teris finished.

“Can we just agree that we’re all irresponsible in our own way.” Hizashi said, feigning a banner of peace.

“You at least have it taken care of now, don’t you?”  Shouta pressed, gaze fixed on Teris.

Teris rolled her eyes.  “Yes.”

“You went to the Hero Commission and filed a report.”  Shouta elaborated, needing to be sure.

“Yes!” Teris stressed.

“Who did you file it with?”  Shouta asked, thinking that he would call and check in on the matter.

He wanted to make sure this didn’t get swept under the rug like things often did with top heroes.

“It’s taken care of Shou.  I went with her.  You don’t need to worry.  I know how to take care of my girl.”

Shouta exhaled.  Hizashi's words made him feel both relieved and agitated.

“I can take care of myself.  Thank you very much!”  Teris bristled.

“Clearly you can’t.”  Shouta remarked.

“If you could you would've reported the first visit straight away, Babe.”

Shouta nodded in agreement.

Teris looked between the two.  Were they really teaming up against her?

It wasn’t as if she had much of a leg to stand on, so she prompted. “Well it’s over and done now so can we move on?”

Looking at Shouta, Hizashi asked.  “You don’t think Todoroki will bug her again?  Do you?  I mean he’s got some pretty high connections and I doubt the guy’s use to being told no.”

Shouta scoffed.  “Todoroki Enji’s a nobody.”

“Wow! Shouta. I’ve never heard you be so snobbish before.”  Hizashi commented.

He would've thought his friend was talking that way to impress Teris, but both of them knew Teris better.  If anything, Shouta's words would have vexed her.

“It’s true.”  Shouta told.  “He might be the number two hero; but outside of heroing his name and status mean nothing. Like it or not, it’s those above and beyond the hero spotlight that hold the true power.”

It was why private instructors of the hero course had never been presented as a good thing to the public; because those in power had difficultly controlling solitary teachers who weren’t beholden to them.  Unlike large schools like UA which received a major part of their funding from shadowed elites.

Shouta fixed his gaze on Teris.  The Aizawa's were hardly as powerful as the family she had come from, but she was no longer part of that family.

“I could speak to some friends of my parents--”

“No!” Teris interrupted.

“Are you sure?”  Shouta asked, tamping down his need to protect her.

He told himself that he would do as she wished, even if it her response wasn’t the one he wanted.

“It fine, Shouta. Really.  I appreciate the offer but it’s been reported.  I just want to move on.  Please. Any other attention it gets will only make things more difficult on me.”

That wasn’t necessarily true, but Shouta thought he understood her real fear and it warmed his heart.

Just because he would have been going to friends of his parents didn’t mean that whatever he asked wouldn’t be without a cost. It was one of the many reasons he stayed away from those circles.  He didn’t care for that life any more than Teris did.

While he liked to think that his parents were different, he really couldn’t say.  After he had scared off his ninth nanny, the Musutafu house butler had taken over looking after him while his parents where away.  With the man busy and Shouta being an only child, he had spent his time studying, waiting for night to fall so he could go to sleep and see his only friend.

“If you’re sure.”  Shouta murmured, still wanting to protect her no matter the cost.

“I am.  But thank you, Shouta.  I really do appreciate the offer.”

Teris smiled at him, and for Shouta there was no better sight in the world.

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a VERY special thank you to those who have left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship.  This fic was my personal guilt pleasure, and without them never be getting posted.

[starlightinhumanform]

The Art of Love: Chapter 10

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora 

Summary: It’s chemistry again and Adora is missing, leaving Glimmer to wonder where she is. Glimmer has to face Weaver, Cat, and her feelings by herself. 

Warnings (for this chapter): Some descriptions of mild emotional distress/anxiety, Mild language (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: As always, all notes mean so much to me (especially reblogs). I always love getting feedback and questions so feel free to drop a comment, send an ask, or add something in the tags! Hope you enjoy my dears~  Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3    The Art of Love Masterpost    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

Glimmer’s feet shuffled on the laminate tiles as she dragged herself to fourth period. She could tell by the quickly thinning crowd that the passing period was almost over. She couldn’t bring herself to move faster- or to actually care. She had fallen asleep in her last period and had been forced to scribble down the half an hour of notes she had missed in the last three minutes of class- and then a minute or two of passing after that.

Her mind was a fog and the only lamp that occasionally shone through the dense clouds was a grumble of frustration. Glimmer couldn’t decide if she should blame her sleep deprivation on Ms Weaver or if it was better to somehow twist the situation onto Adora. Her brain suggested the third option of it being her damn fault for being so distracted the whole night and spending so much time on being a drama queen instead of actually doing work.

Glimmer let out a huff as the bell screeched. She glared at the door down the hall, behind which Weaver was almost surely cackling out some Disney villain laugh as she marked Glimmer late.

A large part of her was highly tempted to turn around and spend the entire period lurking in a corner of the art studio. She had dropped off the model that morning (By some miracle, Weaver hadn’t been there) so Adora could still present it and get points for them.

She stopped walking and tapped her fingers against her thigh. It was only a ten foot walk to the class but, god, at what cost?

She was jarred into movement by a security guard speeding past her on a bicycle. He was shouting at the empty hallway- something about, “COME ON PEOPLE, KEEP MOVING,”- as if he were policing Times Square and not just Glimmer as she slouched her way past the empty row of monotonous doors.

Glimmer huffed and sludged forward, pausing to glare at the disappearing guard before wrenching the door open.

“Glimmer you’re-“

“Late, I know,” she grumbled the inevitable end of Weaver’s sentence.

Glimmer could feel Weaver’s raised eyebrow without even looking up.

“Keep doing this and you’ll get-“

“Detention. I know.”

The other students were watching the exchange like they were waiting for a bomb to go off- tick tock tick tock. Glimmer was sure that if it were just her and Weaver, the woman may have actually lost it and begun screaming at her.

She settled into her seat, resolved not to let Weaver bother her today. She was too tired to give a shit.

Weaver paused before conceding to simply shake her head and move towards the middle of the room.

Glimmer hazarded a glance upward only to see Weaver surveying the room with a wicked grin, hands pressed together like a praying mans’; as if she was showing off the wicked red claws of her nails. It made Glimmer sick.

“So class, I have a surprise for you,” Smug, purred, smooth with jagged edges; Weaver reminded Glimmer of obsidian as the woman soaked in the sounds of hopelessness coming from her students, “I’ll be checking your projects today to see what you have done!”

The class groaned in unison and the girl in front of Glimmer began whisper yelling at her partner across the room- as if that could do them any good now. Glimmer would have rolled her eyes if they didn’t feel so heavy.

“I know, it isn’t wonderful?!” Weaver’s shark-toothed grin widened as she acknowledged her doomed class.

Glimmer felt bad for the kids in the room who didn’t have a hyperactive, annoyingly insistent partner who had in on Weaver’s evil plans- so basically everyone else.

Now that Glimmer was thinking about it, she hadn’t seen said ball of energy when she had walked in. She turned and was surprised to see Adora’s seat glaringly empty. Glimmer fought back against the wave of disappointment that hit her. It’s not like this was a completely bad thing- it meant that Glimmer would actually be able to concentrate. And Weaver would be more likely to give Glimmer credit for her work instead of immediately assuming Adora had done all of it. So yeah, it was all good. Except... She said she’d see me at school...

Glimmer internally sighed at her own pathetic foolishness; she was getting way too soft.

She allowed herself another glance back, as if Adora would’ve suddenly appeared there in the three second break between her stares.

Another wave hit her, this time a cascade of apprehension. Adora was not the type to skip class and Glimmer’s mind was quick to fill the fog in her head with worries. What if something happened to her? What if she passed out? What if she passed out because I kept her up all night? What if she got hit by a car? What if I hit her my car?? Wait no... I don’t have a car. But what if she’s trying to avoid me?

Glimmer’s mind slapped its hand down on a proverbial bell- Yep! She’s try to avoid you!

Glimmer could feel the sensation of sickness growing in her stomach and rising to her chest. She wanted to bury her had in her hand as a stupid emotional groan began clawing its way up her vocal cords.

“Hey, Glimmer,”  A snarky voice purred above her.

Glimmer growled as she looked up into Cat’s smirk, “What do you want?”

Cat gave an over the top pout, complete with big eyes and crinkled forehead, “Why, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“I’m fine; leave me the hell alone,” Glimmer spat.

“All right, all right. You just looked a little,” Cat waggled her fingers, which only added to the insult of her airy, pretentious voice, “dazed-out there.”

Glimmer was suddenly aware of the movement around her- nearly everyone was already sat down with their partners or were at least taking a seat as she looked around.

“Also, I kinda need that seat,” Cat wrinkled her nose at Glimmer and pointed at the chair she was in.

Glimmer turned her head and to the side to see Cat’s partner Scylar beaming at her. Scy was a tall-ass wrestler with a loud punk style; if Glimmer’s brain was dazed enough to somehow skip over Scy throwing herself in the seat next to her (the girl never did anything without enthusiasm), then Glimmer had to be really out of it.

She stumbled out of her chair to move out of the way, “Oh right... I’ll just- move to the back then, I guess.”

Cat waggled her fingers in a wave as she slipped gracefully into Glimmer’s chair, “See ya later.”

Glimmer blinked at the girl for a second before realizing she had froze again. She took a step back, just trying to remember how to move. See ya later... see ya. See ya.

The words bounced around in her head like the little metal ball in a pinball machine- dink, dink, dink. Every time they hit the walls of her skull, I knew conspiracy dawned upon her. What if she knows that Adora was with me last night? Dink. What if she’s trying to get revenge? Dink. What if she told Adora not to come to class? Dink. What if Cat knows I, well that I, you know, abut, you know, Adora. The thought made a little ding! sound this time before ricocheting back even stronger. 

“Uh, Glimmer?” The arch in Weaver’s eyebrow was sharp enough to cut a steak with.

She blinked again, bringing her eyes into focus. She had made her way to the back of the classroom but had failed to actually take a seat. Looking around, the seemingly the entire room had eyes on her. Her face burned and she lowered herself into the nearest seat. Adora’s seat.

Adora should have been there; Glimmer needed Adora to be there. Glimmer felt pathetic in every sense of the word. Only a few days ago, she had wanted to keep as much distance between her and Adora as possible. And now she was useless without her. It was strange and it was wrong and it shouldn’t have been happening but there she was, simmering within herself as the class moved forward without her. She needed the assurance that letting Adora in was the right thing to do, that she hadn’t scared Adora off. She needed the simple hope that Adora didn’t hate her. Why shouldn’t she? You hated her for months; you called her a lair and a fake. Why shouldn’t she hate you?

Glimmer resisted the urge to grumble at herself to shut up. Sometimes her brain really did deserve to be yelled at, though.

The class was moving again, sifting through the maze of chairs to grab their projects. Glimmer followed suit as best as she could to meld into the crowd this time after the embarrassing space-out that had happened only a couple minutes before.

Ok but consider this. Glimmer rolled her eyes internally as her mind began rambling again. What if she does hate you- so what? You thought that she hated you for a long-ass time; why does it matter so much if she actually does now? It honestly might be a good thing. It’ll help you get over that stupid crush.

She kept moving forward, trying to ignore the words floating around in her head but it was so much easier just to argue back. Was she just adding to the noise? Yes. Was it satisfying to tell the devil in her ear that it was an idiot? Oh definitely. Consider this- you’re the one that’s so obsessed with Adora and maybe if you stopped worrying about her for a second, I could find something else for you to yell at me about for no good reason.  

It struck Glimmer just how much Adora had taken over her life; she had spent the whole day thinking and worrying about the girl. She was just a crush after all; it was ridiculous. Ok so Glimmer thought she was gorgeous and funny and smart and definitely the weirdest person she had ever met but in the best way possible? It was crazy to get this obsessed. Glimmer took a deep breath as she lifted her model off the counter, resolved to relax and go about this whole situation like a “normal” person. One problem. She had never crushed this hard on someone before. She had no idea how to act.

She settled back into her seat- Yes, it was her seat; Adora wasn’t here right now and that meant her seat rights were revoked. Glimmer snorted at her sleep-deprived mind as it continued to crack into smaller and increasingly hysterical pieces.

Glancing around, it was clear that the rest of the room was occupied. Weaver was stalking from partner to partner, leering over each of her victims with the sadistic joy that only a high school science teacher could possibly possess. The groups that weren’t being judged were either trying to throw together styrofoam balls or were praying. Glimmer was pretty sure that neither of those would help at that point.

Glimmer decided to take advantage of the surrounding chaos and grabbed her phone from the pocket of her backpack. She opened her conversation to Bow, ready to dump all her problems in her messages and hope she wasn’t blowing up his phone in middle of a test. Oh well, that’s a problem she could deal with later-

Hey hey hey. Ok so I’ve a problem

Well more like a question. But it’s questions about a problem

...hi? What’s going on lmao

You haven’t texted me since you sent me that weirdass text at like two in the morning

What were you even doing up then??

Oh good you are here ;)

What do you mean?? You were up too loser??

Oh my god just tell me what your ~problem~ is

Ok um sooooo

Yes?

SOOOOO

YES

WHAT

Glimmer moved a hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles that were escaping. Bow’s dramatics always made her laugh and she happened to be uncharacteristically bashful about this certain topic.

So I kinda have a big fat crush

The giggles disappeared very suddenly and Glimmer dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched the little blinking dots march in their message bubble, waiting for Bow’s response. Fortunately, he didn’t take long to reply. Unfortunately, Glimmer didn’t quite like his answer.

Is it Adora?

Dfydfgdgthkl how??

Look no one hates someone for no reason as much as you hated adora UNLESS you actually love them

Ok so Bow had a point and maybe he was right and she should have realized it earlier, but “love” was taking it several steps too far.

Also that text you sent last night was so lovestruck I could practically see the hearts in your eyes

I literally just said it turned out ok that you gave her my number?? Because YOU were freaking out??

Yes but you said it with love <3 <3 <3

I hate you

And it’s NOT love. I just like her

Sure...

Glimmer very nearly put her phone away with a huff before remembering that she accidentally had a reason for texting Bow to begin with.

Shut up, anyways do you know where Adora is?

Ooo you missing your girlfriend?

Glimmer’s face would burned red even if Bow hadn’t taken the low dig and called Adora her girlfriend. Because that was the dream, right? Because that’s exactly what she wanted but what she could never have. Because Bow didn’t know the ache in her chest, the pain he was causing. Because he was her best friend so he should know what was going on and how much everything had changed. Because she just wanted to tell him everything and ask him what the hell she should do, but there was something keeping her from telling him and maybe if she could just ask for help, she would know how to solve all her problems. And because yes, she missed Adora and the feeling was so much stronger than it should’ve been.

She glanced around herself, positive that someone had seen her face glowing as bright as a stop light. Everyone was preoccupied with their various crises, leaving Glimmer to her own in peace. Unfortunately Weaver was only two rows away and was drawing closer and closer to where Glimmer sat slumped. She would have to finish up her conversation quickly then.

I’m just wondering why she isn’t in class ok? Nothing more

If you don’t know then I’ll find someone else to ask

Jeez ok

Glim I’m sorry for teasing you

But no I don’t know where she is. Sorry :/ 

Yeah ok. Ttyl my dude 

Glimmer let a puff of air escape slowly from her nose as she zipped her phone into its pocket. Her head felt like a bag of bricks tied to the end of her neck, her eyes just as heavy. She was slumped severely in the chair, so low that her shoulder blades were pressing into the middle of the seat and if she scooted forward a couple more inches, she’d probably slip off entirely; the idea of how much her mother would disapprove of her posture almost drew a laugh from Glimmer.

She debated whether or not it was worth it was worth it to fall asleep. Weaver would be standing over her, glaring with disgust in only two minutes or so, and she would therefore be risking whatever humiliation that would come with Weaver’s disgust. But, mmmm, two minutes of sleep? That might be worth it.

Glimmer was just shifting to plant her head on the desk when the classroom door exploded open. In the doorway stood a slightly sweaty Adora beaming, as always, as if she herself were the sun.

All eyes flickered over to her simultaneously, staring with confused and maybe amused expressions. Adora just grinned wider, apparently in response, “Hey everyone!”

Weaver stood up straight, freezing to look Adora up and down. She seemed confused as to what to do next. The girl continued to stand in the doorway for a moment, seemingly completely comfortable in the situation. The edges of her ponytail were frayed with baby hairs sticking up at odd angles that framed her reddened face. Her breathing was heavier than usual and the blades of glass plastered up her legs combined to give the impression that she had come directly from running.

Adora strode forward, “Sorry I was late! Soccer event with all the captains!”

So Cat did know where she was.

“Oh, I guess that’s ok then,” Weaver unfroze but still seemed somewhat unsure as she turned back to what she had been doing before Adora had burst in.

Adora made her way to the back, stopping only to give Cat a small wave, and sat down next to Glimmer. Her eyes were sparkling and the only signs of any sort of sleep deprivation were the dark circles that contrasted sharply with her pale skin tone. Her energy level was no reflection the amount of sleep Glimmer knew she hadn’t gotten

“Hi!”

“...hi?” Glimmer really wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. That was usual. What was unusual was that Adora seemed to be expecting her to say something.

Adora was sitting next to her and just a minute ago, Glimmer would have sworn that’s exactly what she wanted but now she had doubts. Adora was just so loud. Her energy made white noise roar in Glimmer’s head and her voice thundered in the empty space between Glimmer’s thoughts. And her smile, god her smile, it was the brightest thing Glimmer had seen all day and it made her eye smart; it felt like a hand had gripped the bottom of her heart and was pulling it down, stretching out of shape and digging crescent nail marks into the flesh. That smile was all that she wanted and all that couldn’t live up to.

Adora cocked her head to the side and let the smile drop slightly, looking more like a puppy than ever, “Is something wrong?”

Glimmer shook her head and took the easy option, “Nah I’m just tired.”

“Oh ok,” Adora seemed to debate on something for a second before regaining her grin, “Me too honestly.”

It managed to draw a snort from Glimmer, “Really? I could not tell by the way you came bouncing in here.”

“I had like, way too much sugar. Anyways, what’s going on?” She turned her head from side to side to look around the room and causing her long ponytail to whip in either direction with the momentum.

Glimmer sat up from where she had ducked down to avoid Adora’s weaponized hair, “You were right. Weaver’s going around checking all our projects.”

Adora pumped her fist, moving her elbow towards her body and dramatically sweeping her head forward, eyes closed, as she did. It was undeniably dorky and it was undeniably cute.

“And our project is great,” Adora stared down at the pile of wire and clay that was beginning to look to Glimmer more and more like some strange “aesthetic” torture tool used by a Pinterest girl the 15th century. Of course, Adora was looking at it with the same starry-eyed expression that she always wore when looking at Glimmer’s art.

Glimmer shrugged, “It’s ok, I guess.”

Adora feigned offense, “Excuse me, I put my heart and soul into that clay.”

Glimmer couldn’t help but break down into giggles. She was so tired and Adora was so dumb and Glimmer couldn’t exactly explain why but every joke Adora cracked became the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Adora grinned back at her, “But really, you should give yourself more credit. It turned out great and I know that it’s not thanks to me.”

Ugh, of course she had to go and make it all “wholesome.” Glimmer debated if it was worth it to say something back. It would be so much easier just to brush it off; so much safer. She had already crossed too many lines last night, the only solution was to go back to normal today. But she couldn’t even remember what normal was.

Glimmer glanced down at her hands. She had been unconsciously worrying at her nails and now her cuticles were beginning to turn red. She looked back up at Adora, “Look though... I wouldn’t have been able to get it done without you and I’m actually really glad you insisted on coming over.”

Adora smiled with the brightness and warmth of the sun, “I am too.”

Glimmer was in the process of absolutely melting under Adora’s affections when Weaver stalked to a halt in front of them, effectively freezing her back together, “So, Adora how did it turn out?”

Glimmer turned to Adora, watching her eyebrows scrunch together as confusion slowly drew across her face, “Well Glimmer did most of the work...”

Glimmer was beginning to wonder if this ‘innocent curiosity’ was something Adora put on just for Weaver. She wasn’t stupid, she certainly didn’t actually like Weaver and she had to know that there was something going on between her and Glimmer.

“...so why don’t you talk to her about it?”

The end of Adora’s sentence snapped Glimmer sputtering out of her thoughts, “Wait what? No, sorry?”

Weaver pivoted on her heels to face Glimmer, “Well then, what do you have to say?”

Glimmer glanced at Adora with wide eyes trying to convey the message of What the hell? Why would you do this??

Adora gave an encouraging smile and nodded. Very helpful.

“Um well,” Glimmer dragged her eyes from Adora (who was still giving that somewhat infuriating smile) to Weaver, “It’s a model of bismuth. The particles or painted to look like a sample of bismuth. That’s about it.”

“Very well then,” Weaver sniffed and began leering over the mess of purples and grays.

Glimmer could have sworn Weaver hadn’t been that critically focused on other groups but, then again, she hadn’t really paid much attention to what Weaver had been doing until moments ago.

Weaver continued to glare over the project as Glimmer continued to hold her breath. After far too long, Weaver moved away with nothing more than a “humph.”

As the click click of Weaver’s heels moved to the other side of the room, Glimmer deflated into her normal slump, “I swear she hates me.”

Adora squinted in the direction of their teacher, “I still don’t see why she’s such a bitch to you.”

Glimmer’s eyebrows shot up without her consultation, “I was not expecting you to say anything that... strong.”

Adora shrugged without giving a response, still grimacing towards Weaver- whatever that meant. If it meant anything at all. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe Glimmer was just taking a simple stare to mean way too much. After all, Adora was sleep deprived and apparently coming down from a sugar high. It would make perfect sense for her to space out. So that settled it; Glimmer was reading into too much, that’s all-

“I swear one of these days she’s going to say something shitty to you, and I’m just going to lose it.”

Oh. Glimmer could feel her heart rate spike like it was trying to reach the sky. That sounded nice, that sounded like maybe- just maybe- Glimmer wasn’t reading into it too much. It sounded almost protective and normally that would make Glimmer gag, but somehow this wasn’t normal.

But of course her only reply was to let out a nervous wheeze, “Why on Earth would you do that??”

Adora shrugged again, “I don’t like the way she treats you.”

Glimmer didn’t like the strength in Adora’s eyes. It wasn’t the level of contempt that led to bloodshed, but it was certainly more emotion than Glimmer deserved or would ever ask for. It made her uncomfortable; she didn’t understand why Adora would be so angry about something which, in the long run, probably wouldn’t matter.

She gave another awkward giggle, “It really isn’t a big deal.”

Adora opened her mouth to respond and Glimmer was almost grateful when Weaver began speaking from in front of her desk. Something seemed to switch off in Adora, her expression relaxing as she turned to face the front of the room.

“I can’t say I’m surprised but a lot of you really need to get to work,” Weaver hissed out a tsk noise between her teeth, “You only have a few days left to get this project done. You have about fifteen minutes left in this period and I expect you all to be focused that entire time. All right get to work.”

The class dissolved into noise as chairs were scrapped across the floor and notebooks were grabbed with the fevered terror that can only be inspired by a looming due date.

Adora reached across the desk to open one of the class-set laptops. She brought up the presentation she had been working on yesterday, the same pastel rainbows and soft pink theme. It sparked a strange sort of déjà vu in Glimmer, the exact same situation as yesterday but with so much less hostility. The dissonance was enough to make her head spin, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the difference.

Adora turned her head, mirth poorly concealed in her smirk, “Can I help you?”

Glimmer blinked quickly, suddenly aware that she had spaced out staring at at Adora, “Oh, um, sorry, no. I was just- no I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Adora was very obviously struggling to keep her smirk from dissolving into a full smile. People talk a lot about feeling butterflies in their stomachs but to Glimmer it felt more like a hundred tiny grasshoppers jumping out of time with one another.

She swallowed but her mouth had gone dry and she wasn’t sure when that happened. She tried to piece together a sentence that a normal human would say, “Yeah, um, I’m good. But what about you? Ya know, do you need help with the project or, uh, something?”

Adora seemed to pause for a moment, once again having to switch to a different setting. She looked almost disappointed and Glimmer still didn’t have any idea what was going on.

Then Adora’s face did something else Glimmer was not at all expecting. Her expression lost all of the playful cockiness it had held only a second before, shifting into what Glimmer could only describe as timid- maybe even embarrassed, “Um, yeah, actually. Could you draw some more things for me to use in the presentation?”

Glimmer didn’t understand Adora’s apparent discomfort. She flipped open a sketch book and grabbed a pencil, “Sure; what do you need?”

“Just another a sketch of it unprocessed or something like that would be great!”

Glimmer was beginning to learn that Adora’s stupid sunshine smile was somehow even warmer when you knew you were the one that had caused it.

The next few minutes went by quickly. They sat mostly in silence, both content in their own work. Sometimes Glimmer would glance over, catching Adora staring at what she had been drawing. Every time she did, Adora would give her a tiny sheepish grin before ducking her head away. Every time she did, something unfamiliarly soft would fill her up from her toes to her cheeks that she could tell were turning pink.

When the bell rang, Glimmer argued that the main reason she didn’t want to move was because she was just too tired, but she could tell it was a flimsy excuse of a lie and she hardly even cared.

Adora stood up, looking down once she had grabbed her backpack, “See ya!”

Glimmer sighed as she watched Adora bounce away from her. See ya.

[thesffcorner]

You

You is a thriller written by Caroline Kepnes. It follows Joe Goldberg, a man who works at a bookstore, and becomes obsessed with You, or rather Guinevere Beck, a young writing MFA. He starts stalking her in order to prepare himself for their perfect life as a couple, but of course, things don’t go as planned. I labored over my rating for this novel a lot. On the one hand, this book was very well written; Joe was a convincing unreliable narrator and the thriller aspects, though not very prominent did keep me engaged enough to finish it. However, I have to be honest; reading this book was not fun. At 420 pages it’s just too long, and very long stretches are spent with no progress on the plot, and being trapped in Joe’s head was honestly exhausting. So let’s start with the good and then we can talk about the bad. Like I said, the writing of this book was excellent. It’s written in a mix between first and second person, as Joe switches between narrating his life, and talking specifically to you, the reader. I imagine this was done to make the readers more easily involved with the story, because the prospect of this man stalking and being obsessed with you, is way more creepy than just him stalking a random person. However, this didn’t really work for me, because other than living in New York, I have nothing in common with Beck. In fact, Beck was one of the issues I had in this book, because the way she acts and the things she does were so wildly out of the ordinary, that I don’t see how anyone can relate to her. The good thing about being stuck in Joe’s head, is that, at least at first he is very likable. He is cynical, sarcastic and charming; there were many moments where he shit-talks mass media, the publishing industry, consumerism, high ed, etc, that I was genuinely shocked at how relatable I found him. Because I was in his head, I implicitly went along and rooted for what he was doing, because that’s what you’re supposed to do with a protagonist, which I am happy to say achieved exactly the intended effect. Joe is so good at both lying to the readers and himself that what he does is for Beck’s own good, that she really is obsessed with him, that he’s being reasonable, and combined with his sense of humor and good planning, makes the audience side with him, when in fact, he is clearly the villain. I found myself questioning if the characters I hated because Joe hated them were really that bad, or was his unreliable narration what made me dislike them. This was the strongest part of the novel for me, but like I said, it also became exhausting. Obsession is overwhelming, and after the 200th page of Joe incessantly talking about Beck, I was done. Being in his head was at times fun, but for the most part it was unbearable. Especially towards the end, when he really goes off, I found his delusions so annoying, because they were clearly not matching up with what was happening, and I just wanted the book to end. I had long stopped rooting for him at that point. Another thing I liked about the book, was New York. There aren’t many books that I feel capture the duality of New York well, and this one did very well. It’s a city of extremes; extreme wealth and extreme poverty, many opportunities and even more people fighting with you over said opportunities. Since Joe is a native from Bed-Stuy I found this quite entertaining, and I liked that there was a theme of class throughout the book. Joe being incredibly smart and well read for someone who is lower class and never went to college, and thus coming into conflict with Beck, her friends and her lifestyle was very entertaining; again I found myself relating to a lot of Joe’s anxieties, as someone who came from a very different background than most of the students at the private college I went to. Speaking of college, the other thing that definitely didn't help with my enjoyment of this book, were the characters. I don’t necessarily need the characters to be likable, but if they are not, then I at least want them to be interesting. Unfortunately I found most of the characters rather annoying or bland. Chana and Linn were not in the book enough for me to like them, and I probably hated Peach even more than Joe did. Nicky was entertaining in how horrible he was at his job, and I wanted Benji to drown in the club soda he was selling. Which leads me to Beck and Joe. Beck is Joe’s object of fixation, and as such it’s difficult to tell how much of what we know about her personality is real and how much is Joe’s imagination. If we take their dialogue and her actions as truthful, then Beck was probably as bad of a person as Joe, in terms of being vain, self-absorbed and selfish. In some ways I did like this a lot, because it made her a more human character than just a pure innocent woman who gets stalked by a man, and likewise, just because she was self-absorbed or had issues, doesn’t mean that she deserves to have a man stalk and obsess over her (and many other things, but spoilers). However, her life was so much of a drama-fest cliche that I was wondering if I accidentally sat on the remote and turned on Lifetime channel. She has daddy issues, an exhibitionist and narcissistic streak, every man she meets falls in love with her, and she’s constantly in some sort of trouble. This isn’t to say that I don’t know real life people with lives that are that dramatic, but for fuck’s sake, Joe saves her from falling on the subway tracks after she drops her phone. Really?? Joe we already covered, but I do want to point out, that he absolutely didn’t need to do any of this to get Beck. They had chemistry, they had banter and they clearly were physically attracted to each other. He could have just simply asked her out, and he would’ve probably gotten the same result. Obviously, Joe is a horrible human, and he does some truly heinous things in this book, but I think because I was so done with Beck and her BS and all the other characters, I didn’t care when bodies started piling up. I need to stress that I am in no way justifying his actions in this novel, just that because of the characters, I didn’t find the horrible things he did as impactful, since I didn’t care what happened to them.  Overall, if the premise sounds intriguing and you like thrillers, maybe check this out. If you are like me, and any of the things I mentioned bothered you, then skip this one. Maybe watch the show instead; I hear it’s pretty good.

goodreads

[kindabraveandlittlestupid]

Try not to get caught up with the labels: Feminist, Equalist, or Humanist. The tag matters less than the larger goal society should set out to achieve. Equality for all and sometimes Equity to make small tips to the scale where needed. I am not afraid of embracing the concept of being a Male Feminist because my world is saturated by politics and I understand the players. I know the villains who wish to pit Feminist against Equalist or Humanist are doing so not because they believe any of the labels but because they benefit from the distraction between like-minded individuals who seek the same goals. Most men are not in the social position to be “The Patriarchy” but those men of wealth and power through industry, politics, or religion are the Patriarchy. An so long as they can make Men believe Women are a threat to them, that Black Lives Matter is a danger to White Americans or that Immigrants are taking the wealth of the country, these powerful men do very well so long as we keep fighting with the person next to us instead of realizing the real villains are often above us.

This is one reason why I like the idea of the Rise of Matriarchs in American Society. We can rattle these men’s cages and make them aware their power is suspect to change by a greater majority of society. This is not to say women cannot be corrupted by wealth and power as well but societies that have a more representative/diverse governments tend to be LESS corrupt and that is a step towards progress everyone benefits (except the extremely wealthy men who clutch power). 

This post (despite the starter above) is not a political breakdown post though I plan to write on these subjects more in the future. Instead, it's more of clarification of my views and where I stand on various topics related to feminism. I realize there are topics that I might not touch base on and if you want me to add one you can shoot me a note. I also might hold opinions that do not take an absolutist view towards a topic and in today's politics that can be dangerous on the left and right because anyone who isn't falling in line 100% can be labeled a traitor to the cause or party.

Access to Birth Control and Planned Parenthood

I am always bewildered how nonsensical conservatives are in regards to these topics. The very best means of avoiding abortions is education, family planning, and birth control which prevent young women from having to make a difficult choice. Despite this, they believe in abstinence and try to remove birth control basically pushing more young women into the realm of motherhood because of a few minutes of passion that will ultimately decide the next 18+ years of their lives!

I believe Planned Parenthood should be available and welcome in each community to ensure that young women and men are protected, educated, and equipped with the proper means of avoiding unwanted pregnancies. I also believe condoms, IUDs, Birth Control Pills and Plan B’s should be available on the cheap and discreet to further protection. Lastly, Birth Control should be covered by insurance, even business insurance regardless of the employers personal/religious views. In other words, I am pretty damn liberal on this.

Abortion Rights (Link)

There are fewer choices a woman might face more difficult then deciding if she should or should not get an Abortion. I wrote in detail about this topic before so I will give you the short version. I believe NO ONE likes the idea of a abortion but those of us who understand the issue also know that forcing any woman regardless of age, race or social position to give birth also not ok. We in society should make this choice informative and safe. We do that by having comprehensive sexual education and birth control to be the ‘front line’ of avoiding this difficult choice. If she decides to take the next step or explore her options it shouldn't be done by bullshit church clinics attempting to use shame, guilt or false information to change her views but institutions that provide her all the options and information she could need to make the choice that's best for her. Everything should be her choice without influence from the community, the church, her parents or even the male involved. Aftercare programs should also be there to help her no matter what choice she chooses.

I think we should aim for the 20 weeks (Recent science article suggests this is possible when the babies consciousness kicks in. Open to changing if the article ends up being false) and under as the optimal time to make the choice. However, I am open to learning more on this topic and discussing if the “when” should be pushed further back. Lastly, if it comes down the choice between saving the mother or unborn fetus, I believe the mother's life is more important unless she deems otherwise. There are few political topics where I think men should shut up and let women decide... this is one of them.

Paid Family Leave

This isn't just a woman's issue but also a men's issue as well. I would actually argue this is a progressive issue as both the father and mother both deserve to take part in raising a child in those early stages. We need to consider this as a long-standing social program to allow career-oriented adults (both male and female) to continue their careers but also to support their family. We also need to ensure employers don't attempt to punish these women (and men) by skipping over them for promotions or refusing raises because they decided to have a child. 

There is no argument from me that women deserve a longer leave of absence being the one who gave birth and breastfeeds the baby. I think both parents could benefit from this sort of social net and it's important we build it in such a way that it also covers two mothers or two fathers and even adoption.

Girls Education

With a better education for girls in the United States (and for the matter the world) has proven to improve economies, lower crime and even slow overpopulation because academic opportunity provides new options instead of simply being a wife/mother (nothing wrong with those if you choose that as part of your lifestyle). This is still a major issue as there are still countries that place girls education as secondary to boys education. Even if they are far away it is still our responsibility to ensure girls rights to an education is provided for them. Its pretty clear I believe in this topic wholeheartedly, however if you know me then you know there is more often then not a but around the corner. 

The only caveat I can think to note is Female only education programs. An example of this is Girls Who Code that teaches programming to young girls. I love this program and I think its great they are trying to narrow the tech industry gap by pushing for more female coders. However, as someone who worked in a non-profit industry for a few years and created co-ed athletic leagues, there is value in having boys work with girls. These young women won't be working with only females forever, eventually, they will have to work with male coders and gender segregation robs them of that early experience. On a second point (and the real thing the operators of this program are missing out on) it is the fact if they have males in their class/program they can catch/alter/adjust the problematic behavior of male students to make them the new gold standard of how a male coder should act with their female coworkers. I suppose this is all just perception but I always believed its better to have both genders work together so they might view each other as equals rather embrace a gender segregation to achieve some corporate goal of having a bigger female workforce without address the issue of toxic male work environments.

MeToo Movement

I admit I am of mixed feelings about the MeToo Movement. I hesitate to support ANY movement that relies heavily on the court of public opinion. I worry about the history we all have and how sharp this social edge is at cutting down men (and women) who stand accused of any transgression. At the same time, I understand this is the reaction when sexual assault (verbal or physical) is simply swept under the rug for decades. 

It scares me a little making me wonder if I ever pushed something too far. I think of jobs were I work with men and we goof off telling stories but having female coworkers nearby. They participated in the tales but I feel a dreadful concern that one or more of them simply played along trying not to make a fuss. Perhaps I made someone feel uncomfortable online at some point in the past. 

Lord knows I was a victim myself to a young stalker who drove past my work taking pics and texting the line “LOL. I know where you work”. I was only able to make her stop harassment when she texted things like she was gonna lie to the police and send me to jail and I replied back with the screenshots of the whole conversation making her think how they (the police) might react when I share the text logs (clearly she didn't think her grand plan thru). I also endured a few indecent encounters with drunk women (usually on Saint Patricks Day) when I wear my kilt to the bar and they lift the edge to get a peek. I politely laughed it off and brush their hand away trying to ignore the fact they were we attempting to see if I was wearing the kilt authentically. 

When you’re the victim of something like this you know it in your core that people were mistreating you. I know I never groped a woman, physically assaulted anyone or flashed myself but have I made improper jokes and I hope I never made anyone feel uncomfortable.

In the end, the MeTooMovement is a good thing. It needs to evolve into the next stage taking on a political form where it becomes not just a hashtag and social media post but evolve into real-world policy and social change that adjusts how men treat women in society (and the occasional female on male transgression). We can all do a little better and MeToo has the momentum to perhaps create a lasting social change by creating consent and decency program that could be taught both in schools and also in adult careers. 

Women in Politics (Link)

I touched base with this topic before and I am pretty comfortable in my position. We don’t need more women in politics, we need more Smart Women in politics (and for that matter, we could do with some smarter men as well). Women make roughly between 20 to 30% of the leadership positions in government. Champions like Lee, Clinton, Warren, and Collins make up some of the smartest women in politics and bring a character with them that makes not only Washington better but the whole country better.

The reason why I make the distinction between “More Smart Women in Politics” and just “More Women in Politics” because of women like DeVos, Palin, Bachmann, and Sanders exist. Really just stupid stupid people who don’t know nor care about the long-term effect of their policies and their divisive rhetoric. We could do better than the likes of them and I hope this 2018 election brings a wave of strong/smart women who will balance out this government to something more representing of the country... 50/50. 

NOTE: Preferably a BLUE wave of strong women.

Conclusion

I handpicked these topics because they relate to women's issues. By no means are these topics the only thing women care about but they connect deeply with feminism. As I said above if there is something you care for me to add to the list and hear my personal views/beliefs then shoot me a note. If we do not agree 100% on a topic I ask you to reflect on what I write before writing a hot worded post. If you have an opposing or slightly different view on a subject and think I could benefit from hearing a feminine take on a topic, by all means, share your post (and links to information). I am always evolving in my opinions and alternative views with thoughtful insight commonly shift my views. As always thanks for reading.

Regards Michael California

[ladyhawk-s]

Why I Think Momo is Kickass and You should too

So with the emergence of the anime becoming more and more popular, of course the fan base is growing and growing, I would even say to heights like seen in Fairy Tail, Naruto, etc.

 However, with the series getting more popular, you are stuck with more….negative opinions about the characters that in my mind are sometimes just not necessary.

 Now, this blog is normally Ochako and Kacchako and I intend to mostly keep it that way but lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of negative posts towards Momo and frankly, I’m heavily displeased by this, especially since she’s one of the most well portrayed girls in the series and it’s really heartbreaking on my end to see posts that essentially dismiss her for more shallow reasons that don’t need to be here.

 I mean to start this off, are we going to simply forget that she came into UA on a recommendation and was a student that made even All Might shook when asked why Iida was the winner of the exercise

or how, even though the class didn’t know her, she was still voted to be Assistant Class President? 

 or how she was able to act calm and rational during the USJ villain fight?

 or how she still managed to get the top grade in the midterm exams and didn’t get it to her head but actually acted BENEVOTELY and helped her classmates who asked her for help?

or how it was HER plan that got Todoroki and her to win the exam that they were fighting in?

 But ya know, because of her BODY, we’re going to ignore that right? We’re going to ignore how amazing and how smart she is simply because of her body.  

I won’t lie guys, I’ve heard people complaining about her quirk and even saying how bad her quirk is designed when it’s like??? It actually makes a lot of sense why it’s like that since she does create large objects like shields, spears, A FREAKING CANON, like it makes sense for her to need to use fat call throughout her body to be able to achieve that look.

Which brings me to talk about her costume. Oh boy, this is the one that when I first entered the fandom, no one really said anything but now that the series is more popular, everyone has become experts on body proportions and quirk designs and apparently fashion design since her costume isn’t good enough for her.

I mean look at the costume design that Horikoshi put in for her and how he planned that all out for her

At some point, yes I understand, Horikoshi is a pervert, sometimes his intentions aren’t the best, I get that. But consider this, even though he had the ability to make Ochako’s and Tsuyu’s costumes completely perverted, he chose against that. He had the perfect opportunity to indulge in that yet he didn’t. What I love about Horikoshi is that he thinks about the practicality of the quirks and designs the costumes based on that as well taking into consideration the character’s personality and what they would want.

 So guys, at some point, reality check moment: Momo is comfortable with her body enough to wear a costume that she deemed necessary for the usage of her quirk. And she chose that design for that outfit and has not said a word about this entire series. She even had an opportunity to create it to be more closed and she chose not to. MOMO CHOSE HER OUTFIT AND VIEWS IT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER HERO WORK.

 In this moment too, I would like to share what even Midnight said during Episode 34 at the very beginning.

So another reality check: The only people who are saying it’s sexual are the people who are sexualizing her to begin with. Instead of viewing it as more of a practical thing that is designed for her quirk (which involves utilizing her fat cells and creating stuff through her skin), people begin to view as sexual and are condemning her for having a revealing costume. Which, to me personally, I find ironic since tumblr is filled with campaigns of free the nipple and the stopping of sexualization of breasts and female anatomy, yet look what’s happening here. People are taking her costume and saying she’s being sexualized for choosing a design that would give her optimal openness to use her quirk.

 I mean look at how she used it in the Aizawa fight

 Having that navel cavity helped her out immensely during this fight and she was able to create the alloy material in a much faster way with having access to areas where most of her fat is stored.

Which, I also heard people commenting on how Momo’s body doesn’t make sense and how skinny she is in comparison to her boobs (which I’ve seen that in real life, it’s not uncommon), but if you see in this spread

She actually isn’t the skinniest person in the world. Keep in mind that while she does use her fat cells to make stuff, she does also consume A LOT OF FOOD TOO to keep up with the level of activity too so she does get chubby sometimes so it’s a wrong assumption to think she has this INCRDIBLY PERFECT BODY WITH NO FAT when she does! Which only makes it only more natural and real!

Honestly, her entire arc in the beginning of the manga (or at least up into this exam point) has been so powerful, so realistic, and so amazingly well done.

I mean to consider, very similarly to Bakugou, while we haven’t gotten much of her backstory, given how she behaved in Season 1, we can have a somewhat assumption that she came from a great home and was well praised for her quirk. Obviously, her quirk isn’t one with a talent, she had to work immensely for it, but she must have been placed into situations where she was elevated and praised for how powerful her quirk is (like she was put in situations where she was able to be able to use her quirk to the fullest and not have much backfired).

Even Aizawa says this during their fight

Which does imply this isn’t a constant state she’s always been in, it’s one that has been gained since the sports festival (hence why the arguments that she should be shouldn’t be self confident are wrong). 

Yet, with coming to UA and being in a hero course, after participating in the festival, well she starts to crumble and kind of doubt her abilities against the others

 Like it starts off with her not getting a high ranking on the race

 Then she mentioned the issue with the cavalry battle later on but definitely the heavy hitter for Momo was her fight with Tokoyami where she was left in shambles since she wasn’t able to make much on an impact on the fight itself (which this was amplified more in the anime than the manga itself).

Thus really bringing down her confidence. And now a lot of people screamed about how misogynist her hero training was and how demeaning it was which leads to 2 issues that some people forget about.

 1.     That there are multiple sides to being a hero. It’s not always the cookie cutter “fight villains, rescue people, rinse and repeat”. Even famous people in our society, even though their job is to act/sing/etc, they still go out and do publicity work and that’s what they do. It’s a part of being well known and using your abilities outside of the field you are in.

2.     This was all part of Momo developing. This was just another way to bring Momo down a couple more notches. It’s a bit cruel and hard but this was a way for Horikoshi to get her  out of her mindset and be exposed to something where her confidence could be lowered. Guaranteed if she was put into an actual hero training internship, she wouldn’t have been lowered as much as she did.

 Which could lead the argument that it wasn’t necessary to have any of that stuff happen to her but consider, would she have gotten in this state if she didn’t have those things happen and accumulate?

And would she have gotten her confidence back from Todoroki/Aizawa and execute an amazing plan without that encouragement from those moments?

Probably not.

 Ok this post is beginning to get way to long so I’m going to stop here before I go on and on and on about Momo. As much as Ochako is my best girl and I will forever sacrifice myself to her, even I have to admit Momo is utterly amazing and I only talked about what happened in the first 65 chapters. I didn’t even brush on how amazing she was during the invasion of the villains or how she managed to be a huge help in the rescue of Bakugou or even how kickass she was during the license exam (which she helped my princess Ochako and that pleased me so much). Momo is just more than the simple sexual object people are complaining her to be as, she’s an incredibly smart and amazing woman and Horikoshi put so much thought into her, more than what any of us could ever imagine. I am truly excited to see more of what she can do in the future and I hope she gains more fans since she truly deserves it.

 TLDR; MOMO IS AMAZING, SEND HER LOVE YALL