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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 23 days ago

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In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 2 Part 1 here Characters included: Shoto Todoroki, Hanta Sero, Dabi (Touya Todoroki), Izuku Midoriya, Tomura Shigaraki. Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Check out the reverse (When someone tries to flirt with the reader) here

Shoto Todoroki

You weren’t the jealous type.

You didn’t need to be. Shoto was yours, and he made that painfully obvious—to everyone.

But some people? Some people didn’t know when to give up. Enter Reina Kisaragi—U.A.’s very own queen bee, rich girl, and absolute menace.

She was from Class 1B, and she had everything—money, looks, influence. She was the type of girl who broke the rules and got away with it. Shortest skirt in school? Check. Painted nails, expensive perfume, and a cigarette hidden behind the dorms during lunch? Check, check, check.

And lately?

She had her sights set on your boyfriend.

You didn’t know if it was because he was rich, gorgeous, or just the one guy who ignored her. But whatever the reason, Reina had made it her personal mission to get his attention.

She twirled her hair, ignored dress code violations like they didn’t apply to her, and batted her thick, mascara-coated lashes every time she passed him in the hall.

Too bad for her, Shoto didn’t give a single shit. He barely spared her a glance. But Reina? She wasn’t the type to back down.

And today, in the middle of the crowded cafeteria, she decided to push her luck.

You were sitting beside Shoto, enjoying your lunch, when you heard the distinct click-clack of designer heels approaching. You didn’t even have to look up. You already knew who it was.

"Shoto," Reina purred, sliding up beside him. "You look so bored sitting over here. Why don’t you come eat with me instead?"

The entire cafeteria went silent. You leaned back, watching. You wanted to see how he’d handle this.

Shoto barely blinked. “No.”

Reina pouted. "C’mon, don’t be shy. I don’t bite—unless you want me to.” She smirked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

And that’s when you saw it.

The way her manicured fingers trailed down his uniform sleeve—slow, deliberate, claiming.

Oh, hell no.

Shoto sighed, clearly annoyed. He removed her hand from his arm like it was a piece of trash and turned back to his meal.

Reina, however, wasn’t done.

"You sure, Todoroki?" she cooed, leaning closer. "I mean, I could be so much fun for you."

And then she made her biggest mistake. She reached out—and touched his hair. The moment her fingers brushed through his perfect, dual-colored strands, you were out of your seat.

The cafeteria gasped.

Reina barely had time to react before you grabbed a full cup of ice water from the table and dumped it straight over her head.

The silence was deafening.

Water soaked her hair, her uniform, makeup ran down her cheeks, mascara smearing like a raccoon. Her stupidly short skirt was dripping, clinging to her thighs.

She looked like a wet raccoon.

And you? You just smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh nooo,” you drawled. “I hope your cheap-ass extensions don’t fall out.”

The cafeteria erupted.

Reina, still soaked and humiliated, let out an incoherent shriek. “Y-You BITCH—”

"Language," you scolded, tilting your head mockingly. "You should be grateful, really. I figured someone who smells like cigarette smoke and daddy’s money could use a little bath."

Reina looked like she was about to explode.

And then, to really seal the deal, Shoto finally spoke. He stood up beside you, gaze cold, unimpressed. “Don’t touch me again.”

Reina froze.

And then, without another word, Shoto grabbed your hand, pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, and led you out of the cafeteria—like nothing happened.

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

The bar was loud, filled with smoke, alcohol, and the occasional low life looking for trouble.

You were in the center of the room, dancing with Toga, laughing as she twirled you around. The music was booming, your body moving to the rhythm, hips swaying just enough to draw a few lingering stares.

But Dabi? He wasn’t watching them.

He was watching you.

Sitting in a dark booth with Shigaraki, beer bottle in hand, his glowing turquoise eyes never left your form. You could feel his gaze—heavy, possessive, unwavering.

And you loved it. Until someone decided to ruin the moment.

A girl—short dress, high heels, way too much perfume—slid into the seat beside Dabi, pressing her body far too close to his.

You stopped dancing.

Toga followed your gaze, lips twisting into a grin. "Ooooh," she giggled. "Someone's about to die."

You hummed. "Maybe."

The girl leaned in, twirling a strand of her obviously fake hair around her finger. "Hey there," she purred, running her manicured nails down his arm. "You look bored."

Dabi didn't even glance at her. Didn’t move. He just took another sip of his beer, eyes still on you. But the girl? She was persistent. She leaned closer, practically pressing her chest against his arm. "C'mon, you don’t have to sit here all alone—"

That was it. You grabbed a drink from the nearest table—a full glass of whiskey—and marched right over.

Shigaraki, already amused, leaned back. "This should be good."

Dabi finally shifted his gaze to you, watching as you casually approached. The girl barely noticed you.

“Dabi, I was going to-“ you paused, giving her a once over. “Who’s she?” you asked, sipping the shot before placing the glass onto the table, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

She scoffed, keeping close to him. “Does it matter to you?”

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. "It matters because he’s my man." You smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. "So, I’ll give you two choices, sweetheart."

You raised your hand.

And in your palm, a flame flickered to life—black, hungry, swirling violently. The heat radiating from it made the air shimmer.

The girl tensed, staring at the fire as it grew.

You leaned in, voice dropping to something dark and dripping with promise. "Choice one: You stand up, walk away, and pretend you never existed. Choice two?" You tilted your head, eyes gleaming. "I see how fast your skin melts before your screams get boring."

She swallowed. The fire in your palm crackled. "Tick-tock."

Dabi grinned, finally entertained. "You should listen to her, barbie," he murmured lazily. "My girl doesn’t make empty threats." The girl scrambled away, nearly tripping over her heels.

Shigaraki snickered. "Pathetic."

You turned to Dabi, flicking your fingers to snuff out the flame. "You good?"

He leaned back, watching you with approval and amusement. "Yeah," he murmured, eyeing you up. You smirked, sliding into the seat beside him. "I know."

Dabi finally set his beer down, stretching lazily. Then, with a slow smirk, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

His lips brushed your ear.

"You're so fuckin’ hot when you're mad, doll." He tilted your chin up and kissed you—deep, slow, possessive.

“I know.”

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku was too nice for his own good. That was probably why some people thought they had a chance. But they didn’t.

Because he was yours.

The two of you were wandering through a hero merch store, surrounded by shelves of action figures, posters, and memorabilia. Izuku was in his element, eyes practically sparkling as he admired the newest All Might collectibles.

You stood beside him, watching with fond amusement as he excitedly examined a limited-edition figure. "You already have that one," you teased.

"Yeah, but this one has a different paint job!" he defended, holding it up like it was a priceless artifact.

You laughed. "You’re such a nerd." But before he could respond, she appeared.

A girl—long lashes, glossy lips, and a little too confident for her own good—approached.

She eyed Izuku like he was the latest and greatest figurine on sale and she was about to claim the last one.

You immediately picked up on her energy. And just like that, your mood shifted.

"Hey there," she smiled, stepping way too close. Izuku blinked, confused. Oblivious. "Oh, um… hi?”

She giggled, twirling a strand of hair. "You’re Izuku Midoriya, right? U.A.’s top student?"

He scratched the back of his neck, flustered. "I—uh, well, I wouldn’t say I’m the top, but—"

"You're so humble!" She leaned in, smiling way too sweetly. "I was wondering… maybe I could get your number?"

Oh, hell no. You didn’t even let Izuku respond.

Instead, you casually stepped between them, blocking her view.

"Aw, that’s adorable," you cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You actually thought you had a chance."

The girl stiffened. Izuku, finally catching on, glanced between you two, sweating bullets. "Uh—"

You turned fully to her, grinning. "Listen, sweetheart, let me save you some embarrassment." You gestured toward Izuku. "See this guy? He’s mine."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

You smirked. "Really. And you?" You looked her up and down. "You’re irrelevant."

The girl’s jaw dropped. The entire store went silent. Even the cashier was staring.

Izuku? Izuku looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

"U-Uh…" he stammered, cheeks burning. "Y-Yeah, I, um… I already have a girlfriend, so—"

You interlocked your fingers with his and brushed your thumb across his scarred knuckles, eyes locked on hers in silent victory. The girl, utterly humiliated, scoffed. "Whatever. I wasn’t even that interested."

Then she turned and stormed out. The moment she was gone, Izuku let out a breath, eyes wide. "You didn’t have to be so—"

You faced him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "So what, Izu?" He gulped. "N-Never mind."

From behind the counter, the cashier whistled. You shrugged. "She asked for it."

Izuku just sighed, knowing better than to argue. And later, when he still bought the overpriced All Might figure, you let it slide. Because honestly? He deserved a little reward.

Hanta Sero

Dating Sero Hanta was never boring.

Whether it was impromptu skateboarding sessions, late-night rooftop hangouts, or movie marathons that turned into wrestling matches on the couch, he always made sure you were having fun.

And tonight? Tonight was supposed to be a chill, drama-free date. Too bad some people didn’t know when to stay in their lane.

You and him were out at a cute little arcade, battling for dominance in a heated air hockey match.

“Come on, babe, is that all you got?” Hanta grinned, his sharp teeth glinting mischievously.

You narrowed your eyes, gripping the striker. “You talk too much.” You slammed the puck straight past his defense.

6-5.

“Ohhh, shit!” you, using a completely different voice, pretended to be a crowd of people. “She’s kicking your ass, bro!”

Hanta gawked. “No way. That was—That was luck.”

You smirked. “Rematch?”

Before he could answer, a voice interrupted. “Wow, you’re really good at that.”

A girl—long legs, tight crop top, too much makeup—leaned against the side of the table, looking directly at Sero.

You already didn’t like her. “Oh, uh, thanks?” Hanta replied, confused.

She giggled, twirling a strand of hair. “You must have some really strong arms with all that tape quirk stuff you do.” She batted her lashes. “Mind if I feel?”

You raised a brow. Excuse you?

Hanta, bless his oblivious heart, just laughed awkwardly. “Uh, I think my girlfriend would mind.” She pouted. “Oh, c’mon. It’s just a touch.”

Your eye twitched. Hanta noticed, quickly stepping back. “Yeah, nah, I’m good.” But she didn’t back off.

Instead, she grabbed his wrist—actually grabbed him—and giggled. “You’re cute. You sure you don’t wanna—”

You didn’t let her finish. Without a second thought, you reached for Sero’s elbow, gave him a look and took out a set of tape—

—and wrapped her hand straight to the table.

Silence.

She stared at her taped-down wrist, blinking. “W-What the hell?!”

You smiled sweetly. “Oh, my bad! Reflex.”

Hanta just grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, she’s kinda territorial.”

You tilted your head. “It’s not ‘territorial’ if you’re touching something that isn’t yours.”

The girl yanked at the tape, struggling. “Get this off me!”

He hummed, looking at his elbow. “Damn. That’s the extra-strength one, too.” Hanta turned back to you, grinning. “You wanna help her out, babe?”

You crossed your arms, tapping your chin. “Hmm… I dunno. I kinda like her like this.” The girl glared.

Hanta just laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Gosh, I love you.”

Meanwhile, the girl? She struggled for another five minutes before an employee had to cut her loose. And by then?

You and Hanta were long gone, laughing your asses off.

Tomura Shigaraki

Shigaraki wasn’t friendly.

He wasn’t patient, he wasn’t kind, and he sure as hell wasn’t interested in making new recruits feel welcome.

The hideout was buzzing with new blood—fresh recruits eager to prove themselves. Shigaraki was bored. He sat on the couch, legs spread, hoodie slung low over his face, fingers tapping idly against his beer bottle. One tap, two taps—never five.

You were beside him, legs draped over his lap, flipping through a magazine.

It was a quiet night. Until she ruined it. Her name was Aya. Tall, slim but cocky as hell. And, unfortunately, stupid.

You noticed her immediately.

The way she strutted across the room, eyes locked onto your man like he was some prize to be won. You almost felt bad for her.

Almost.

Aya leaned over the back of the couch, pressing in way too close, her fake-sweet perfume choking the air.

"Hey, boss," she grinned mischeviously. "You look tense. Need me to help you relax?"

You didn’t even look up. Shigaraki barely acknowledged her, bored as hell. "I’d rather let my skin decay."

Toga snorted from across the room.

Aya giggled, undeterred. "Oh, come on. Don’t be like that." She reached out to grab his hand.

Wrong move.

You snatched her wrist midair, hard. The room went silent. Aya blinked, looking down at your grip, then back up at you. "Excuse me?"

You finally looked at her, deadpan. "You are."

She frowned. "Jealous much?"

You laughed. "Of what? Poor judgment?" You tilted your head, grip tightening. "You must be new if you think touching him is a good idea."

Aya scoffed, yanking her wrist back. "What, you think you scare me?"

You smiled sweetly. "Oh, honey, I don’t think. I know."

She rolled her eyes. "What are you gonna do? Fight me?"

You snorted, leaning back into Shigaraki’s side. "I’d fight you, but it’d be too easy."

Aya clenched her jaw, pissed. "Bitch—"

"Oh, shhh," you cooed, pressing a finger to her lips mockingly. "You’re embarrassing yourself, and I hate secondhand embarrassment."

Aya slapped your hand away, face burning red. Shigaraki finally turned his head, red eyes sharp with amusement. "You done?"

Aya opened her mouth, but the way he stared through her like she was dust waiting to happen shut her up real fast.

Dabi, watching from the bar, grinned. "Damn. This is better than TV."

Aya’s face twisted in rage, but she wasn’t stupid enough to push further.

She turned and stormed off.

You watched her go, then sighed. "Gosh, that was exhausting. I need a drink."

Shigaraki chuckled, finally relaxing back against the couch. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers lazy but possessive.

"Good girl," he murmured, voice dark with approval.

You smirked, letting your head fall against his shoulder. Victory tasted sweet.

They're a bit out of character, I know... but I'm slowly getting back into the gist of writing, so I'll get better.

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pleathewrites · 10 months ago

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bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 5 excerpt — class 1a resigns + ua traitor reveal read full story here

Out of the Top 100 Heroes in Japan, over half of them resigned in solidarity.

The ones who don’t will be remembered as the ones who failed the oath they had taken when accepting their role in a society that is ready to move on from needing them. The large handful of those Dabi had laid out crimes against in his video reveal and interrogation will sit in their jail cells awaiting their court hearings with the only thoughts of, ‘where did I go wrong?’

To everyone’s surprise, it is Bakugou Katsuki who walks up to take the microphone from the last resigning Pro-Hero.

He scans millions of eyes and takes the plunge.

“Most of you who know me probably only have shit things to say about me,” He starts, and the image of his homeroom teacher pinching the bridge of his nose brings out a snort that reverberates a bit too loudly through the various speakers connected to the microphone, “And to be honest, there’s probably a whole lotta truth in there.”

Katsuki tunes out the questioning murmurs of the crowd and only looks for the one person he’d never answered.

“A really good guy asked me recently if I still wanted to be a hero after a lecture Aizawa-sensei had given about the shitty truth of how criminals are created.”

Eijirou’s wide eyes and ungelled hair give Katsuki the strength he’s been lacking for so long.

“I used to idolize All Might — Yagi-san — because he was the best. I used to believe that being the best meant I had to do everything possible to get that place. I used to believe that being the best meant I could behave in any way I wanted — that I earned it, and thus, I deserved it. The guy we’re all here for saw that.”

Katsuki remembers wanting to murder Dabi at one point, for all the ugly truths patchwork lips had spit at him.

“The memories I have of Dabi — Todoroki Touya — they’re all over the place, honestly,” Katsuki looks at the grieving mother of the man who’d kidnapped him, haunted him for months, and then forgave him. He wonders who he would have been with a mother like that — wonders what kind of man Touya could have become under a woman with so much love held in her eyes, the kind of love Katsuki had craved the minute he was born.

“I think your son might have saved my life, Himura-san,” He tells her honestly, and bows.

When he rises, his eyes catch a poster that stops his heart. Kemuri Hashiga and Nagai Tesaki hold a large smiling picture of Tsubasa flying — dragon wings that contrast brightly against the springtime sky hold his round little body over their middle school playground. Kemuri’s sharp grin rivals Eijirou’s proudest one and Nagai’s eyes shine with a fierce glint Katsuki hasn’t seen on the boy in such a long time.

He nods to them and holds Tsubasa in his heart when he turns back to the warmth of Eijirou’s gaze, “I have my answer for you now. I don’t wanna be a hero, because I don’t like what the idea of it brought out of me. But I wanna do good, and I’m gonna be the best at it,” He grins at the pair of toothy laughter he can only faintly hear from how far he stands from it, “I resign from bein’ a hero, or whatever. But, that doesn’t mean you won’t see me around. Y’here that! To all the villains who came out today,” He raises his hand to point to the crowd and sees Eijirou start to run towards him, “I’m gonna take care of y’all till you bleed!”

“Okay!” Eijirou grabs the microphone out of Katsuki’s hands, eyes wide and frantic before he sends a sheepish grin to the slightly frightened crowd, “He means that in a totally, non-violent, metaphoric–metaphorical? way,” and sends a stern look to Katsuki that says, ‘we’ve talked about this, man,’ but the smile can’t seem to be swiped off his face.

The crowd seems to get it, though, because there’s laughter in the air for the first time. Even their homeroom teacher seems to be suspiciously hiding a fond smile behind his signature scarf.

“Um,” Eijirou starts, his insecurities bubbling up inside his chest as he takes in the waiting eyes of the crowd. He can’t believe the myriad of unique faces he’s seen today — quirks of all kinds, people of all kinds. The gratitude he feels in being able to witness the bravery of such people takes the heat off the moment, simmers the voice in his head that tries to convince him he’s not good enough, and stops it from boiling over.

The scent of caramel tickles his nose before Katsuki’s warm hand settles over his shoulder. When Eijirou turns his head to see Katsuki’s encouraging smile, he holds his hand out and waits for nitrogen palms to wrap around his own.

“Bakugou doesn’t talk very nicely about himself,” He tells the crowd, “but he always makes sure I do. He’s the manliest dude I know — he’s kind, and determined, and he’s definitely the reason half our class is passing,” The crowd laughs and Katsuki squeezes his hand in appreciation, “I trust him with my life, and you can trust him to care about yours.”

“Tell us about yours!” Someone deep in the crowd shouts.

He didn’t expect to be put on the spot like this, he really just wanted to save Katsuki from being misunderstood. However, he cannot deny how fast his heart beats at his friend’s — ‘maybe more, one day.’ — bravery. Katsuki is always so damn inspiring.

“Oh, um, well,” Eijirou laughs nervously, “I, uh… Heh. Well, I used to believe that because I didn’t have a flashy quirk, I wasn’t worthy of having a place in this society. But when my friend saved me from an attack, she inspired me.”

Mina sends him a proud smile from where she’s pushed through the crowd to stand before him. The whole class of 1A has come close to the front.

Eijirou straightens his spine, “I started to research heroes and found out about Crimson Riot, who had a similar quirk to mine. He quickly became my idol. Through my hero identity, I’ve tried to pay tribute to him. I reinvented myself — started dying my hair and even chose a hero name close to his. I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to attend UA and meet some really manly people along the way.”

There are some confused, high-pitched responses of, ‘manly?’

“Tch,” Katsuki leans in to speak into the microphone, “It’s a gender-neutral term of all things good for the idiot,” but his fond smile doesn’t cause any further confusion for the crowd.

“Yeah,” Eijirou giggles, “But, yeah, anyways… I think surrounding myself with so many amazing heroes made me blind to everyone else. Somewhere along the way, I think I convinced myself that being a good hero was equal to being a good person — a good man.

“Crimson Riot said that chivalry is all about living with no regrets. And I don’t want to regret this moment, and so, I don’t think I’ll regret my decision to resign from my dream of being a hero — figuring out who Kirishima Eijirou is, outside of Red Riot. And even though he’s gone, I think Crimson would’ve called this day the manliest moment in history.”

The applause brings a — ‘very manly!’ — tear to Eijrou’s eyes.

One by one, the entire class of 1A resigns their status as hero students with the promise to strive towards social reform.

Yaoyorozu Momo — “I actually wanted to be an engineer when my quirk manifested, but my parents always viewed hero-work to be more rewarding. However, I’m thankful I attended UA because I wouldn’t have met all the wonderful people who put their trust in me to lead them. But I cannot lie — being a female hero under the male-gaze… I hate it. I guess I just never felt like I had the ‘right’ to. I used to be a tom-boy, would you believe that?”

Ojiro Mashirao — “It kinda sucks, bein’ a heteromorph. People always tryin’ to touch my tail and askin’ me what I can do with it. Makes a guy wanna prove somethin’, y’know? So, I guess… When I saw the kinda life heteromorphic heroes led, the respect on their name, I got envious. I still wanna work in rescue, though — natural disasters, I’m hopin’ after today.”

Jirou Kyouka — “Ever since I was a kid, I saw how my family was often ridiculed for pursuing music. We struggled a lot, but they… They would sing me to sleep and, uhm, teach me whatever instrument I wanted to know. I used to hide it, thought it had nothing to do with heroism and so it wasn’t important, but my classmates — Bakugou mostly, if you’d believe it — encouraged me. There’s a lot of power in music. Therapeutic. I think I wanna share that the most with the world.”

Kouda Kouji — “Hi… Is there a deaf-and-mute translator? Ah, thank you! ‘Animals are my favorite creatures to speak with — birds and foxes especially! They have so much to say, I think it’s because they see so much of our lives. Humans, though… They used to run away from me. I think it’s because of how I look. I don’t understand how, in a quirk-society like this, we still have so many biases based on looks alone. I hate violence, and so far, heroism has felt like nothing but. I think… from now on though — witnessing this turn-out — I’d like to start working with humans again. Talking like this, peaceful and honest. I want to live in a world that works with nature instead of domineering over it.’”

Ashido Mina — “I used to think being a hero was all about hiding your anxieties — show no fear and slap on a smile for the cameras, for the kids, for everyone else just as scared as you. I think… When you’re so used to masking your own fears, you forget everyone else’s. I used to believe villains weren’t capable of fear, but now… I think I’m starting to get it — that it’s their ignored fear that creates them, pushes them to that point of villainy. I honestly need to think about what I’m gonna do from now on, but I have a feeling a lot of opportunities are gonna pop up in the next few years, and I don’t see myself picking just one. And to quote Blasty, I’m gonna kick ass doin’ it!”

Kaminari Denki — “Sensei gave us some homework a few days ago to write a reflection about the ways we can work towards villain prevention and, like, rehabilitation. I, uh, heh, think mine might’ve been the shortest paper. Every time I use my quirk into overload, a bit of my brain kinda fwoomps away and… makes things harder and harder to read and concentrate on. I used to think it was worth it, y’know, like — ‘who needs a workin’ brain when you’re riskin’ your life to save people?’ But, uh… obviously, it scares me now to think that was a standard I put on myself.”

Uraraka Ochako — “Admittedly, I wanted to make a lot’a money — guess that’s normal for people who don’t grow up havin’ any. Makin’ money isn’t really gonna help other kids who have none, though. I never thought a girl like me would learn to fight the way I can now, and it kills me to think about all the girls and women who cannot fight for themselves, who work like hell to survive cycles of abuse ‘n poverty… And! That’s where I wanna put my efforts!”

Satou Rikidou — “I’m a baker’s boy at heart. My classmates actually, heh, set ‘round a time each week for me to bake ‘em somethin’ new — call it ‘Sugar Time’. Funny ‘cause I actually need sugar to survive — a lot of it. Parents learned how to bake early on because the store-bought sweets’re too expensive. In class, Aizawa-sensei brought up how the things we need to live ain’t free, ‘n it made me think about what kinda life I would’a had if I didn’t have parents who were able t’bake for me, or didn’t have parents at all… Mama, Baba, I’m real thankful for everythin’ you’ve done for me t’get me here, but I just can’t stop thinkin’ about those kids…”

Asui Tsuyu — “I’m going to miss it, the hero-life. But, honestly, I think that’s for the better. I want a safer world for my siblings. When we were really young — Satsuki-chan, I don’t even know if you remember this, but… A burglar came into our home. I remember I hid you and Samidare-chan under my bed and left to call the police, who called a Hero. And that hero… bulldozed into our house, right through the wall of my bedroom, and all I could think about was that you two — your tiny little bodies — were right there, and by the luck of the universe, my quirk manifested, and when I cried out, my tongue became the hand the hero had no intention of reaching out, and I was able to pull you both out just a second before the ceiling caved in and smashed my bed to pieces. The hero caught the burglar, but I left that night thinking things like, ‘Was all that really necessary?’ and ‘What would have happened if I was quirkless?’”

Aoyama Yuuga — “I was born quirkless, and let me tell you — the French do not take kindly to those who are. I talk like them and I look like them — well, that’s a lie, I am much more gorgeous! But alas, we live in a world where our quirks are as good as currency. I’m still getting the hang of how fast word travels in Japan, but my peers at UA know my parents asked All for One to grant me the quirk I have today, and when my parents refused to let me carry their debt to him, he killed them. I am a hero solely out of revenge, and that’s not very heroic. My Papa used to tell me that I was meant to sparkle, and I can’t do that covered in red.”

Tokoyami Fumikage — “People are not born bad, only make bad decisions. But each bad decision is not held to the same weight for each and every individual — and for our society today, that is bad. I’m quite fond of darkness and prone to all things of the night, but I was lucky enough to be raised by a family that guided me with light. That said, I am… honestly looking forward to getting to know the villains who’ve come out today. There aren’t too many heroes with the Devil in them, and Dark Shadow is practically itching to bond with people more like me — I think he’s getting tired of fighting all the time.”

Hagakure Touru — “My whole life, I’ve not only been invisible but felt so. I think the only times I’ve been given any sort of attention is being the butt of a joke — I’ve heard way too many one-liners over the fact that I have to fight naked, and it doesn’t matter how cleverly you think you twisted it, it’s still not funny to me. However… UA helped me shine, literally. I think it’s really important for kids to feel that — without having to spend a boatload of money or kill your childhood for a scholarship that essentially turns you into a child soldier.”

Shouji Mezou — “I learned to cover my face at a young age because I scare people. It’s not right to say, but whenever I used to see villains, like Dabi-san, show off their unconventional appearances so freely, with so much pride… It somehow equated in my mind that I need to cover up, to show society that I’m not like them — I’m not something to be feared because I display shame in the way I look. Preconceived notions, stereotypes, we all fall prey to them. Late at night, though, I’d think to myself that maybe villains just want to be seen. And now, seeing everyone who’s attended — your wonderful, unique, and brave faces — I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable labeling anyone as a villain ever again. I don’t want to wear this mask anymore, and I don’t want anyone else to ever feel like they have to as well.”

Ida Tenya — “In one of the readings Aizawa-sensei assigned to us, an activist said: ‘Police and heroes are doing what nobody should be doing — enforcing laws that criminalize poverty and addiction, arresting people instead of issuing citations, writing tickets to raise revenue rather than protect the public, and using armored vehicles to evict women and children from a home they have occupied to protest homelessness.’ And I agree! We cannot continue on like this, and I thank all the heroes today who have resigned from participating in this kind of system. You have given me the strength to do so as well!”

Midorya Izuku has the hardest time of it, cries and sniffles through the whole thing, but ends with a wobbly tenacious smile and a promise of “Plus Ultra!” that makes Yagi gather the young boy — and equally tearful mother — into his frail arms.

Only Sero Hanta is left to say his piece.

He feels like he wants to vomit and he knows the crowd can tell, “Someone I care about very much pointed out that I never talk about m’personal life. And, well, that’s because it doesn’t make for a very good story. But that person’s life story has been the highlight of every news station in Japan for the last week, so I figured I might give it a shot.”

Shouto’s reddened eyes widen and practically beg Hanta to shut up, but Hanta remembers the boy making a comment not too long ago about how Hanta doesn’t really know when to do that.

“Five years ago, my home was destroyed by what the police had called, ‘a villain attack’. My parents were killed by the rubble caused by a hero chasin’ after a kid a lil’ older than I am now with a scary quirk for stealin’ a woman’s purse. After that, I was sent to a foster home that looked more like a crackhouse,” Gasps and horrified murmurs ripple across the crowd, “Don’t worry too much ‘bout that though, I wasn’t there fer’long. Sold off for my foster parents' next fix. Managed to get away though.”

The League push their way into the front of the crowd, which fortunately opens right up out of fear, or common decency, Hanta doesn’t really know yet.

It’s actually kind of funny how Tomura looks at Hanta with his hands out and his eyes wide, like, ‘what the fuck’re you doin’?’

Hanta barrels on though, “I was around ten years old when Dabi had found me, half-dead’a hypothermia ‘n starvation. He took me in, and man, was he a mother hen. Makes so much sense now that he grew up an older brother,” He laughs wetly, and from his peripheral vision, it looks like Touya’s mother does the same.

“At this point, I was used t’people kickin’ me outta restaurants ‘n stealin’ my clothes when I wasn’t lookin’. But Dabi — sorry, Touya, my bad, I’ve been callin’ him ‘Dabi’ for so long now, but I wanna use the name his brother calls him. Touya would sneak me into whatever shelter he’d find willin’ to hold a stray. He’d get me all kinda books, most of ‘em interesting but some were complicated as hell.”

Hanta’s voice starts to betray him, threatening to cut off completely as the memories flood through.

“He’d tell me to read while he’s out workin’,” Tears finally start to fall and, for once, Hanta welcomes the burning trails down his cheeks, “He’d come back tired as hell, every day with new scars, ‘n even then, he’d make me somethin’ to eat, even if it meant he wouldn’t for days.

“He always offered to take me to a safehouse — a place for children like me. He’d say things like, ‘You should be playin’ ‘round with other kids yer age,’ and I’d just make fun’a’him for bein’ an old man. But the truth is, I didn’t wanna leave him. He was the only person who made me feel safe in a world that turned me away.”

His eyes roam over and connect with every present member of the League. Himiko is crying into Jin’s chest.

“And around a year ago, he let me come with him to join the League,” Hanta cannot bear to face the betrayal he knows paints every single face of his classmates, so he doesn’t, “I thought I wanted revenge, at first. But lookin’ back, I think I just wanted to help Touya’s dream of a better world come true. Pay ‘im back for everythin’ he’d done f’me. ‘N so, when the League asked me to be their spy, I agreed.

“But,” Hanta starts to shake, “When I got to UA — well, you’ve all seen it, everybody is so fuckin’ good. After my classmate was kidnapped, after I saw what it had done to him, I regretted my decision so much.”

Hanta can’t stop crying.

“Kirishima said he doesn’t wanna live a life with regrets, ‘n I know that’s only possible for me if-if I confess, because I know Touya refused t’give me up when he’d turned himself in, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Hanta covers his shame with his arm and hopes his bulky elbows give him enough cover to break down.

“But I’ll never regret staying with Touya! Because without him, I-I never really would’ve believed society could actually change, until today.”

He doesn’t know when the League had actually run up to him. He only feels the cold metal of Mr. C’s prosthetic catching him before he falls to his knees, only registers the worn cashmere of Himiko’s sweater against his cheek, only hears the thud, whine, and scramble of Tomura picking up the fallen microphone and yelling out, “None’a you get to judge Hanta!”

And through the blubber of Hanta’s wailing sobs, Hanta hears the unimaginable.

“We don’t — ”

“ — Monsieur, were you not listening — ”

“ — ‘re doing the right thing now, we’d never — ”

“ — we’re still your friends Hanta! — ”

“ — I forgive you! — ”

“ — it’s ok, dude, I understand! — ”

“ — confession was totally manly! — ”

“ — et the fuck up, Tape Face, ‘n apologize to my face like a man! Geeze, you were only doin’ what you thought was right, or whatever — ”

In less than a minute, Hanta is engulfed by the arms of his classmates, their tearful smiles and too-empathetic eyes filling his vision and stunning his burning shame to a halt.

Cold and hot hands cup his face, Shouto’s puffy eyes staring at him wondrously.

“Why…?” Hanta doesn’t understand.

“Don’t you see how much we love you, Hanta? Don’t you trust us to see how much pain you’ve been in, and not punish you for it?”

Hanta’s chest aches with something that blooms to life instead of the anticipated shrivel of the death of one he’s grown to love.

He sighs, resting his forehead against Shouto’s, “I’m so sorry, Shou…”

Shouto’s headshake jostles Hanta slightly and he tearfully whispers, “I’m sorry, too. You’ve suffered the same loss I have, and have been going through it alone.”

The students of Class 1A quiet down when their homeroom teacher steps through and pulls Hanta up with an offering hand.

Hanta has always found his sensei so hard to read, “Wha-what’r’you gonna do t’me, Sensei?”

And his teacher only smiles and tips his head to his family — to the League that hadn’t left Hanta’s side under the swarm of — ex — hero students.

“Weren’t you paying attention? There are no punishments for what is said and done today.”

When the League, his teacher, and his classmates walk Hanta away from the area that holds the lone microphone, there is only the noise of respected cheers and applause at the sight of opposing sides holding the boy who’d played both — and it feels like a win.

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