#thank you for the ask hero!!

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[bleach-your-panties]

OH BET! For the smut prompt game and because of reasons, what about Amajiki and “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!”

Thank you for this request, anon-chan!

Prompts here and here. 18+ MDNI.

A shiver ran through your overstimulated body at the feeling of Tamaki’s sharp nose poking at your jugular.

His arms held a tight grip around your waist while his canines grazed over your collarbones.

Your sweat-slickened bodies were so close together, warm and sticky from your multiple combined orgasms.

Pussy spasming around his long, slender cock that was still shoved deep inside of you, already hardening again just from tasting your flesh against his hungry tongue.

“T-Tama..babe..” You tried to wedge yourself out of his hold, but Tamaki was having none of that. He only gripped you tighter and began bouncing you along his cock once again.

You threw your head back against his shoulder with a loud moan and fisted a thick clump of his dark blue locks in your hand.

That only made him whimper and moan louder than you had. He loved when you were rough with him.

One muscular arm loosened from your waist only for two slender fingers to slide down your belly towards your pulsating button.

“So wet for me, bunny. You're such a good, slutty girl. Cumming over my cock and fingers so many times, making a mess of our bed.” 

He circled those expert fingers around your clit in a face-paced circle motion while thrusting harder, making your thighs slap against his. It was so loud, hot, and downright erotic.

“Oh, Tamaki, fuck!” 

He angled his dick right against your spot and before you knew it you were gushing over him again, your eyes seeing nothing but a blanket of black as you slumped down against his chest.

His dick slipped out of your hole and plopped against your thigh with a wet squilch. Tamaki had been stuffing you full for the past two hours at the very least. You didn't even know how you were still conscious at this point.

“Tama…we’ve been at it like rabbits! How are you still horny?!” 

The indigo-eyed male’s cheeks flushed crimson along with the rest of his normally pale, milky skin. 

In apology, he began peppering soft, wet pecks across the expanse of your neck and shoulders.

“P-probably because of the rabbit meat s-stew that you made for dinner…” 

Your pupils blew wide at the realization.

“Oh…oh…You're right…”

[intergalactic-garbage]

same software, different case

klance from voltron: legendary defender // zukka from avatar: the last airbender // valdangelo from the heroes of olympus (art by viria)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The villain shows up at the hero’s apartment to interrogate them, but the hero is absolutely and joyfully wasted. Do whatever you want with this, it’s impossible for you to write anything that isn’t amazing.

Have a lovely day/night 🫶

"I thought you couldn't get drunk."

"That-" the hero let their index finger wave in the air "-was a lie."

"You're capable of that?"

"Getting drunk?"

"Lying." The villain pushed the hero gently to the side and invited themselves into the apartment. Immediately, their eyes scanned every little corner.

"Hey. Woah. Ey." The hero tried to catch up with them but they couldn't even walk properly. Not surprised yet unbothered, the villain took a step aside when the hero tried to grab them. Instincts had told them when to move, even when their back was turned towards their enemy. The hero was a little too loud anyway.

"Don't worry. I just want to have a look," the villain said. They dodged another fruitless "attack."

"Shoo this is my house, shoo," the hero said, as if the villain was an evil spirit they wanted gone. In a sense, the villain could've been just that, the hero was just lucky they weren't in a bad mood.

"Okay, listen." The villain took a step forward and the hero - who was still swaying - looked a little intimidated. It wasn't unusual for the villain to receive such a reaction. However, they felt a little bad that they did now.

Usually, the hero was a strong match for them. Which made them so entertaining to fight with. Brilliance was the hero's strong suit. Incompetence infuriated them.

And now the hero was definitely acting a little too stupid to be considered smart.

"Your entire home has been bugged."

"Spiders aren't bugs," the hero scolded their enemy. Again, the index finger and again, the villain dodged it. "And I have maybe two. Maybe two in each room."

"Bugged as in someone is listening to your drunk speeches," the villain said.

Suddenly alarmed, their eyes widened and they looked a little too terrified.

"You haven't had anyone over, did you? Might be a little embarrassing if I find anything in the bedroom." No other reason why they asked. Obviously.

They looked at the blushing hero and a million thoughts raced through the villain's mind. It was a little insane. Finding out about it at one in the morning and driving to the hero's place immediately.

They shouldn't have cared. They really shouldn't have. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was dumb.

Because after all, the villain would have to listen to those recordings, even if they didn’t want to.

"Uh. No. Just a few friends." The villain exhaled.

It wasn't their plan. It was the supervillain's.

"Good. Now, be quiet for a moment, can you do that?"

I don't even wanna have anything to do with it. I wanna test the devices, that’s all. I'll send you the recordings. A gift from me to you, if you wanna call it that.

The hero nodded and sat down on the couch.

On the other hand, the villain turned and started searching through the living room. Under the coffee table, behind curtains or the TV — they weren't successful until they actually found a listening device under the couch.

As their search continued, they found six of them in total and crushed all of them under their boot.

Surprisingly, the hero had been silent the entire time and as the villain returned from the bedroom, they found the hero laying on the couch.

"Dodged a bullet there," the villain said. "Count yourself lucky I heard about it through the grapevine."

The hero looked up at them.

"You think they heard everything?"

"It’s possible." Yeah, maybe it was selfish. The villain preferred a bullet over hearing the hero with a lover.

"Noo, I talk a lot when I’m alone. Embarrassing." The hero covered their burning face with their hands.

"As long as it's not about work."

"Well, it kinda is because I talk a lot about villains or with villains or I try to come up with things I wanna say to villains or how to manipulate them or how to help villains or how to bargain or how to, you know, defeat them."

The villain raised their eyebrows.

"And obviously, you're talking about me the most," they only joked but when the hero replied with a "…yuh," the villain was, admittedly, blushing a little bit as well.

[nina-scribbles]

~'☁‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ Happy (late) birthday Oboro! ִֶָ☾. ⋆｡°•☁️.`~

[erinwantstowrite]

has lady gotham accepted peter ?

not quite yet, because he hasn't been there long. but she does have a soft spot for heroes, and peter has been so kind to her people so far

[frogaroundandfindout]

For a long time I thought Robin was his son, but now I know he was…chosen.

I don’t know much about their history except for what’s already passed into legend; Batman and Robin, the dynamic duo—mentor and sidekick—family by choice if not blood.

I’ve never caught his civilian name, but I do know that the first Robin has been heroing since he was a little kid—and that he’s friends with almost everyone in the superhero community.

I also know that even though things must have been rough between him and Batman sometimes, he’s wicked loyal…even now, even though he wears a different costume and answers to the name “Nightwing.”

(Batman: The 12-Cent Adventure #1)

[hollowtakami]

Hii! I followed you from an old account that for some reason didn't let me make requests, but now I went back to my hawks era and with it came my obsession with his fics.

Aniwaaays, me and reverse comfort are one, so I was wondering if you could show how reader (s/o) comforts Hawks after suddenly reuniting with his father or just see a photo of him. like, idk brings back a lot of bad memories for him and I would like to see some of it if it's not too much trouble <3

I love You btw, and sorry if i bother u with this

content: mentions/implications of child abuse/trauma, reverse comfort, keigo has c-ptsd, him and reader are both trying their best

a/n: hiya anon! it’s no problem at all, i will always enjoy answering asks and writing for my darling kei<3 and thank you sm, that really makes me smile to know that people genuinely enjoy my work! ^^

Keigo saw so much flash before him every time he blinked.

He remembered the way his teeth would grit when he squawked, spat; the way his hands looked before they came down crashing, a tsunami of scarred skin that would scar him just the same.

Be it physically, or mentally.

Keigo found himself paralysed by the picture, printed in black and white. It might as well have been blood soaked into the newspaper, crumbling in the hero’s faltering grip.

For a moment, the avian wasn’t sat at the table with a breakfast, made with love, laid out like a declaration. But for a second, he was a beaten fledgling who’d been plucked of his autonomy.

Keigo blinked. He was holding a newspaper, he was not there.

The poor baby bird on the floor had dared to get up, the one wing that still flapped crushed under the boot of his father.

He was eating breakfast, the sun was on his skin.

Keigo was not there, physically.

You were surfing some butter around a pan, ready to make some scrambled eggs for you and your boyfriend. Letting the butter melt for a moment, you smiled.

Turning around, you beamed, “I’m using butter for the eggs this time, not oil, just like Fuyumi told me!”

Mentally, Keigo was there.

Noticing the way your partner looked as though he had been turned to stone, your heart grew cold. You switched off the gas hob, almost gliding through the kitchen to the dining table where Keigo sat, paralysed.

“Baby?” You whispered, your words falling on death ears.

The newspaper shook in the avian’s hand, your eyes flicking to the front page. There he was, Keigo’s father; Takami The Thief.

When he was drowning under the surface of his anxiety, you knew better than to startle him. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Your hand gently covered his like unexpected snow. You felt how cold his skin was, be it from the morning breeze or the fear laced in his blood.

“You’re home, birdie,” you said, clearly. “He’s not here, he never will be.”

Your words were firm, and for a moment you swore you felt Keigo’s fingers twitch under the blanket of your hand.

“I- I feel like, like I can’t breathe,” was all Keigo could say.

You inched closer to Keigo, wrapping your arms around him. Careful not to touch his plumage, as to not trigger him further, you squeezed him in your embrace.

“Smell the flowers, spread the pollen,” you gently instructed, “just like the therapist taught you, yeah?”

Keigo inhaled sharply through his nose, a shaky breath leaving his open mouth soon after.

The two of you repeated these steps together, completely forgetting about your cold breakfast waiting for you on the stove.

“I promise you, Keigo,” you lifted up his bangs, kissing his forehead. “I’m not gonna let him get to you.”

[pikahlua]

In regards to your post on Izuku’s self sacrificial traits, how do you think the dark hero arc plays into this? I thought the point of it was to sort of pull his self sacrificial nature back a bit with the whole “you can’t do it on your own” and “don’t kill yourself for the cause” thing. They don’t have to be mutually exclusive, i get that “bakugou looks up to Deku’s self sacrificial nature as a positive trait he doesn’t have” and “Deku should rely on others and not hurt himself” can both coexist. But they also give mixed messages narratively. Is one not condemning it while the other puts it on a pedestal?

THANK YOU!!! For taking the bait.

I've been ranting about this theme a bit because, from what I can tell, it might be the biggest point MHA is trying to make to answer the question "What is a hero?" Because of MHA's length, the points of the argument have been rather spread out. I think people's understanding of the argument has been distorted by the length of time between the points. Overthinking is the enemy here.

But really, why are people coming away from MHA with the message "Heroes shouldn't sacrifice themselves"? The message is coming from somewhere. The problem is it's probably coming from a conflation of concepts. What is self-sacrifice? That's the question that gets at the root of the problem here.

In the west, "sacrifice" has negative connotations. "Something is lost." "Someone suffers for the sake of a goal." "Someone gives up something." The focus is entirely on the pain experienced by the one sacrificing.

But the point MHA is trying to make is that there's a difference between "suffering loss" and the sacrifices a true hero makes. Izuku isn't a remarkable hero because he's willing to destroy himself at the drop of a hat. The focus is not on his drastic behavior but on the recipients of his drastic behavior. The point is, sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice is meaningless, but sacrifice for the sake of others, well, now we're getting somewhere.

It's the "for the sake of others" part that matters here. Izuku is a hero because he cares for others, because he wants to save others, and what he's willing to sacrifice to accomplish that is merely the measure of his conviction, of his heart.

The quality of self-sacrifice is a core trait measured just to gain enrollment at UA, the most prestigious hero school in the country. Self-sacrifice is fundamental to being a hero. Do you really think the point of the MHA story is to demonstrate how self-sacrifice is a bad thing, that heroes shouldn't sacrifice themselves? Do you think the rest of Class 1-A wouldn't be willing to sacrifice themselves should the need arise so long as it's in order to save someone?

The difference between Izuku and the rest of the world, at least at the beginning, is that he is sensitive to calls for help. He is able to perceive those in trouble that others cannot perceive. Others get confused by the context or are not in a constant state of listening for cries for help. Others cannot always tell when is the right time to act or if acting is the correct choice. Izuku never wavers in the face of such questions. He always acts, because he cannot help but act. It is who he is. It's his nature to be this way. And this is the spirit that slowly influences his classmates and the rest of society, this is the spirit Katsuki fears and later comes to emulate, this is the ideal Izuku admires in his hero All Might for which he always strives.

Heroes want to save, but some of them just don't know how--and Izuku teaches them how. Izuku teaches them that, for true heroes, to save others is more important than anything else they could ever want. It is more important than their self-perceived weaknesses, than their egos, than their desires for vengeance, than their small-time dreams, no matter how noble or justified or important any of those things might be. To be called a hero, one must be prepared to risk it all.

These are the traits Hero Killer Stain wishes to promote in society. These are the qualities he exonerates from assassination. A person who lives for the sake of "service to others" is the sort of person who has more right than anyone to "cling desperately to life." Society needs such people, and for that very reason such people need to stay alive. This is the collectivist ideal. If everyone is concerned for the well-being of others, then everyone is looking out for everyone else. If you're ready to save others and risk yourself to do so, others will risk themselves to make sure you make it out alive too, and thus everyone is protected. If you do end up perishing due to self-sacrifice, it is a tragedy, not self-determination, but then your actions still protected the whole, and the whole will continue to protect everyone in it to the best of their abilities because your self-sacrifice was appreciated and the spirit of your goodness carries on in others.

But that's a whole lot of waxing poetic about self-sacrifice. I did acknowledge that people are picking up a critical message. Where then is the criticism?

It comes from Shouta Aizawa.

Aizawa is the major proponent of rationality in this case. Self-sacrifice = good is not the end of the philosophy. It is as you say, something must balance it out.

People often think Aizawa's philosophy boils down to "I don't want heroes to be self-sacrificial," but that's not actually what he's saying. Aizawa's philosophy is to make the distinction between self-sacrifice and self-destruction.

"Being self-sacrificing isn't the same...as being suicidal. Many kids confuse the two. So I'll give them what they want. A 'death,' so to speak."

The hallmark of heroic self-sacrifice is that it's done for the sake of others. Self-destruction is different; it is for the sake of the self. Some people would take the chance to mask their self-destruction as self-sacrifice by looking for a way to die while saving others. That's not the point of heroic self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice is a last resort. You save a person in trouble because you care about preserving their well-being no matter the cost, but some sacrifices are not in balance. Say someone is trapped in a room and you want to get them out, and you have a battering ram and a bomb. Should you strap a bomb to your body and explode open that door to let the person out? Wouldn't that be a heroic sacrifice to save someone? No! It's certainly a sacrifice, but it's not a heroic one. You should act to preserve ALL well-being, including your own. Use the damn battering ram.

Consider the circumstances at play in the quirk assessment test. Izuku was ready to sacrifice his entire arm, his physical constitution, for the sake of demonstrating his power. What does Izuku incapacitating himself achieve were Aizawa to let him do so? It would merely be to prove his strength to someone. No one is at risk here. No one needs saving. Izuku has no person to receive the good will of his self-sacrifice.

"Whatever you were planning...it would have inconvenienced those around you."

"You're totally useless after saving just a single person."

Self-sacrifice is still a sacrifice, which means it has costs and consequences. Who loses because of self-sacrifice? Many people. The person who sacrifices themself loses their life or well-being, which, if others asking for help are worth saving because you believe all people are equal, then you are also worth saving and in just as much need of help. Additionally, your loved ones are harmed because they care about you. And the rest of society suffers because it was better for having you in it; you can no longer save anyone else. To save the most people possible, a hero should strive to survive. A hero should strive to win.

Taken all together, you get the philosophy that allows Katsuki's team to triumph during the Joint Training Arc, which was the entire point of this match. Note how all the above logic is summed up quite succinctly by the gremlin himself.

Katsuki is dedicated to winning the match and leads the charge, but that puts him at risk of being targeted. However, he's willing to be in that vulnerable state because he trusts others to save him. That's what empowers him to put himself on the line. His goal is a complete victory, which means that self-sacrifice is considered a loss. There are costs and consequences, and heroes should do their best to mitigate them. Katsuki is doing everything in his power to reduce the necessity of self-sacrifice, but not because he thinks self-sacrifice is bad. He thinks needless self-sacrifice is bad, and so he strives to eliminate the need for it.

But that means he does acknowledge that there are times self-sacrifice is necessary. He's grown up afraid of Izuku's heart because Izuku demonstrates how easily self-sacrifice comes to him, and that puts Katsuki on the spot. Katsuki doesn't know if he is capable of self-sacrifice. Because he's so competent and strong, he's never noticed a need for sacrifice in his life. He's never had to demonstrate self-sacrifice, and if that's such a fundamental part of being a hero, Katsuki doesn't know if he really is a hero at heart.

But as I mentioned above, the reason he never had a chance to display self-sacrifice as a trait is because he lacked the ability to tell when people need saving. He looks around and sees a bunch of people who are wasting their potential. He thinks some people who seem to ask for help are much more capable than they behave.

Note how Katsuki failed his hero license exam. If Katsuki had stuck around the triage center and fought Gang Orca when he showed up, Katsuki likely would have passed. But Katsuki decided to forego battle to run around and save people. And hilariously enough, the bystanders who dock Katsuki points point out that Katsuki correctly identified them as low-priority targets to save. He's pretty good at figuring out who DOESN'T need saving. They end up docking him points because of his inappropriate tone, which is possibly the funniest way they could have said "Well you're technically right but also holy crap you're bad at this."

And that's the point. Katsuki knows saving people is important, and he perceives Izuku is the absolute best at it. Katsuki is constantly looking for a way to compete with Izuku in this realm because he has to. Katsuki wants to be the best, and to do so he has to improve in this area. Izuku pisses him off because he is extremely adept at perceiving calls for help from those who truly need it, and Katsuki notices every time Izuku is faster on the uptake. It happens at the sports festival with Shouto, which is why Katsuki considers the sports festival a loss.

Katsuki does get better at this, and that's what allows him to eventually get his hero license. Think of his behavior during the school cultural festival, where he sees his classmates trying to appease their peers out of guilt. That's people pleasing. That's ego. Katsuki won't have any of it. From his perspective, if Class 1-A wants to make sure everyone has a good time, then everyone means everyone. Class 1-A has to enjoy the festival too, and the best way to do that is to throw a badass concert. By enjoying themselves and being proud of their well-earned accomplishments, by thriving, Class 1-A demonstrates to their peers how to best win against all those tragedies that tried to bring them down. Self-deprecation for the sake of appeasing others' ill will when that ill will is unjustified is just self-gratification. It's just a way to stop feeling guilty, but the only purpose that serves is to debase yourself. Class 1-A didn't do anything wrong to the other classes, so Class 1-A does not need to atone to them. Self-sacrifice in this case brings no benefit to anyone. Instead, the classes should all be thriving together.

All of these lessons converge in the Dark Deku arc. Others express worry for Izuku's behavior because they see him as engaging in self-destruction. They want him to rest, but Izuku perceives there are people in need of help, so he can't help but save them. And not everyone condemns Izuku's behavior.

Kudou encourages it.

The problem at play in this arc is the question of power. Izuku has power, which means he is capable of saving people. And many people are in need of saving. How many people can one finite Izuku save? That is the question he is set to answer. He is facing the same question as All Might, but All Might's example was to save people while he was losing One For All. All Might had a finite amount of power that he was going to lose in time, so he decided to spend that dwindling power on saving as many people as he could. That would be the more virtuous use of his finite power.

But All Might's flaw was in rejecting the help of others when others were capable of helping him. Izuku falls into the same trap. He thinks he has to save people alone because he's the only one capable of it.

This is Kudou's spoken caveat. "Inaction is not an option," so yes Izuku needs to be acting in this moment. "That said...if there's anything that could bolster Izuku Midoriya now, it would be..."

The answer is not merely "friends." We are given the answer that Izuku needs friends at first, but this is a special type of friend. Izuku needs friends who "share his resolve," who "can match his pace...and keep running alongside him." Izuku needs comrades (nakama)! He needs friends who want to save just as much as he does. He needs friends who are just as capable as he is. That's why Class 1-A has to first demonstrate their capabilities to Izuku so that he can be convinced.

Katsuki doesn't criticize Izuku's ideals either. In fact, he openly praises them.

All Katsuki is saying here is "You're doing the right thing. Saving people, even at cost to yourself, is the right thing. We want to help. We can help. Don't reject us.

"Don't pay a price when you don't have to."

tl;dr

In a collectivist society, the ideal is that everyone looks out for each other, thus is everyone protected.

Self-sacrifice has costs to the self, to one's loved ones, and to society. The price paid must be worth the good achieved.

The virtue in self-sacrifice is that it is done when necessary for the sake of others. Anything less is self-destruction, which is harmful to society.

Heroes have a duty both to be prepared to self-sacrifice and to mitigate the need for self-sacrifice.

Rejecting the help of others who are capable of helping is to reject the collectivist ideal.

Izuku's self-sacrifice is virtuous BECAUSE IT IS FOR OTHERS' SAKES. Izuku's self-destruction and rejection of help from others are what the story criticizes.

Izuku Midoriya's nature represents the ideal of self-sacrifice because of his innate desire to save others, and Katsuki Bakugou recognizes that trait as core to being a hero and thus admires Izuku for it--but he's also afraid he doesn't have that trait for a large chunk of the story. Izuku's journey to accepting the help of others, Katsuki's journey to discovering his self-sacrificing spirit, and their mutual admiration of each other all provide the perspective for the audience to understand this ideal: heroes are those who live in service of others.

[moodyvoid]

It's been an honor to thirst over bnha villains (shigaraki) with you 🫡

May we always be united in thirst 🫡

[mediumgayitalian]

“Woah, hey, I wanna try.”

Nico startles at the voice, tiny bone falling from his hand and sinking back into the dirt.

“Aw.” Beat-up flip-flops slow to a stop right next to him, and Will plops himself down. He shoots a bright, too-wide smile in his direction, eyes crinkling. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Nico says warily, subtly inching away. Will, either oblivious or uncaring to his intention, just leans in closer, blue eyes watching him intently. “…What are you doing here?”

“Hanging out with you. Duh. How did you do that?” He points to Nico’s hands.

Confused, Nico re-summons to the squirrel femur, dragging up the rest of the skeleton too. It chitters to life, nosing at the sliver of bare knee out from Nico’s ripped jeans, before bounding over to Will. He doesn’t even flinch, laughing as the little thing scampers up his arm and rests in his hair. Nico’s mouth twitches.

“I don’t actually know? I guess I can do it the same way you can heal. It kind of just happens, I can’t really teach you.” He pauses, squinting. “Unless…necromancy is healing, technically. Can you do necromancy?”

Will shakes his head, wincing as one of the squirrel’s ribs gets catches a curl of his hair, tugging it as it moves. “No, the other thing. The spinny thing.” He gestures towards Nico’s hands, wiggling his own in explanation. “With the — bone.”

“Oh! Oh, that.”

Closing his eyes, Nico lays his palm flat on the packed dirt, feeling around under it. He can’t see it, exactly, but he can feel buried things the same way you might feel the air shift when someone comes in an empty room. Things take up space, and there’s a record of that you can feel. Nico’s ability just extends underground, and bones, especially, are like someone entering a room loudly. He’s directed to them almost automatically.

He feels around until he gets pulled towards another buried dead. A mouse, this time, or at least a part of its skeleton. Nico leaves it. The bones are too small for his purposes.

He keeps searching until he finds a raccoon’s ulna — perfect. He drags it up, patient as it worms its way around rocks and through clay and even, notably, a snake’s burrow, and finally breaks through the surface, right up into his waiting palm. He taps it twice on the ground, shaking off the excess dirt, then poises it deftly in between his right middle and pointer figure.

Then, aware of Will’s intense gaze on him, he starts to fiddle with it.

So fast the movement looks fluid, he passes the thin bone along his deft fingers; in, out, in, out. He bends it under his hand back into the looped curve of his pointer finger when it reaches his pinky, starting the cycle all over again. The bone makes tiny swishing sounds as cuts through the air.

“Woah,” Will breathes, eyes wide, pupils wider. “That’s so cool.”

Nico shrugs, embarrassed. “It’s just — twirling. It’s not hard.”

“It’s like the bone is moving itself, though! That’s so sick!”

Nico has never had anyone look so — delighted at him, before, at his magic. Not that this even counts — he did this with sticks, when he was a kid, with pencils. It’s just a fidget, but Will grins at him like Nico’s turning straw into gold.

“I can — show you, if you like.”

Will cheers, scooting somehow closer. Their knees touch, and Nico has to bite down a gasp; somehow, even that touch is hot, even through his jeans he feels like he’s been shocked. His hands, too, under Will’s intensive, determined scrutiny, start to tingle.

“Extend your middle finger up, a little, like you’re trying to cross it over your pointer. No, don’t actually cross it, just — here. Let me.”

He grabs Will’s hands before he can think about it, and he regrets it; the contact makes it suddenly hard to breathe. He forces himself through it, breathing through gritted teeth, and places Will’s fingers the right way.

“Your heart rate’s way off,” Will comments. “You’re also producing an excessive amount of adrenaline and cortisol. You okay?”

Nico bites back a curse. Damn vitakinesis.

“I’m fine,” he grits out.

“If you say so.”

He rushes through the end of his explanation, practically flinging the bone in Will’s direction and throwing himself away, making sure there’s a healthy stretch of space between them when he sits back down.

“You try.”

Will shifts, eyes narrowed on the poised bone. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth in focus, just barely, and Nico has to beat back his thoughts with a mental battering ram. The squirrel skeleton, still sitting on Will’s head, rattles as if laughing at him.

I’ll give myself a lobotomy. I will. Do not test me.

“I got it!”

He glances back down at Will’s cry, accidentally meeting his eyes — blue, blue, gods, they’re so blue, is that an Apollo thing? First the sunrise-coloured hair, then sky-eyes? Apollo’s eyes are brown, usually. Blue only when he feels like it. Why are Will’s so identical to the heavens, then? Why do they seem to take up half his face, they’re so constantly wide, constantly watching? Attention everywhere, all the time, like everything is worth looking at, committing to memory. They go near black, when the sun sets, they get so dark. Mirrors of the night sky. That can't be mortal.

Sure enough, the ulna weaves through Will's fingers — clumsy, stuttering, not as fluid as Nico, but the foundations are there — successfully.

"Good job."

The answering smile could light up the Earth in an eclipse. Nico feels sunburnt.

"I gotta go show off to Kayla and Austin!" Ulna tucked in his ear like a pencil, he reaches up a hand, waiting for the squirrel, despite not having an olfactory system, to sniff his palm, deem it safe, and crawl in. "Come on, Sammy. Thanks, Nico! You're the best!"

"Sure," Nico mumbles. He watches him run off, cradling the little squirrel skeleton carefully. "No problem."

A small smile pulls at his face.

[mothwingwritings]

Your Yujiro x reader has been on my mind recently, and an interesting idea came into my head - what would happen if the reader somehow stumbled upon Yuichiro? What would he think of the whole situation, particularly because he is of a *very* different temperament than his son? Would he develop some sort of feelings for (reader)? I'm pretty sure Yujiro would be pissed to see his father meddling in things 😭

You're one of my fav writers on here!! Keep it up ❤︎ and make sure to take care of yourself ☺️

… I can’t believe I didn’t think of writing anything for Yuichiro before this ask lol. How could I write so much about the Hanma family’s favorite girl (you) and never mention Yuichiro???  Shame on me tbh, let’s change that now!

(And thank you for your kind words!!! You are very sweet! <3)

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, noncon, past abuse, and stepcest.

If by some miracle act Yuichiro was able to obtain a corporeal form and once more walk amongst the living, he would be very intrigued by how far his lineage had come and what the Hanma’s were able to accomplish. Being the start of it all, he had a vague idea of how things most likely have progressed. There is no doubt that his unruly son has grown massively strong, and he’s sure that strength has caused countless problems for people near and far.

He was aware that Yujiro had children at this point, taking quite an interest himself in Baki and Jack’s development. Children weren’t always guaranteed to take after their parents, so it was always a delight when at least one of your offspring was able to carry on the family line with the strength and power you and your ancestors worked so tirelessly to cultivate. When Yuichiro found out that of all the children Yujiro had fathered, not just one, but two showed such immense potential? He was as pleased as he was proud, even more so to discover Baki and Jack lacked the level of belligerent arrogance that made their father an unbearably volatile presence to be around.

While he was taking note of his family line he happened upon a surprising outlier- you. He was at first puzzled by the fact that the Ogre, with all his rampant testosterone, was even able to produce a daughter. When he dug a little deeper and realized you were adopted into the family, while that in and of itself made sense, it left him with even more questions. Why would someone like Yujiro go out of his way to adopt someone else’s child, let alone a female, when he barely cared about the children he himself had brought into this world? Based on the limited knowledge he had of you, you didn’t have any kind of superior strength or secret, hidden abilities that may have spurred his son to take you under his wing. So how exactly did you become awarded with the name of Hanma?

The mystery became too intriguing to ignore, thus he sought you out.

The moment he saw you, he instantly began to understand your appeal. He kept his distance at first, not wanting to overwhelm you with his presence as he made his initial observations. From what he could gather, you were a thoughtful girl, kind and affable to your friends and strangers alike. He noted that you seemed a little jumpy, on edge in scenarios you should feel more at ease, and he worried that maybe he wasn’t concealing himself enough and you were catching on to his surveillance. You may not have Hanma blood in your veins, but you’ve been around them enough to recognize the specific aura they exude. He would need to be more careful, maybe conducting his research on you was best done through other means.

Hence, he decided to look into your relationships with his son and grandsons, hoping to get a better picture of who you were as a person and unravel the secret of how you became intertwined in their lives.

However, what he ended up finding out was not anything he ever expected.

As soon as he learned the horrific truth of how his family had handled you, the revolting nature in which not just his son, but his grandchildren, showed their ‘affection’ for you, he was at a loss for words. Yuichiro was beyond disgusted by their actions, particularly due to the fact that their aggressions were against an innocent woman who had no means of defending herself against the brutes that were incessantly at her heels.

Your jittery nature made complete sense now. You weren’t constantly on edge because you were a naturally excitable person- you were on edge as a defense mechanism. You had to be cautious around everyone for your own self-preservation, frightened that you may unwittingly be subjugating yourself and the people around you to extreme danger by being in a public space. The man who was supposed to be your father figure had assaulted you, hurting and scarring you in irreparable ways. The brothers that you loved and looked to for protection ended up having the same perversions as the man who had created them, betraying your trust in their attempts to force themselves upon you.

Disgusted wasn’t a strong enough word for what he had felt upon learning these revelations. His disappointment in his kin was immeasurable.

When he finally introduces himself to you, it’s apprehension that greets him in return. He can see the fear reflected in your eyes as you were faced with the instant realization of his strength the absolute power he held over not just you, but anyone who may step to him. Yuichiro was a complete stranger to you, in fact you probably hadn’t even seen a picture of him to make any sort of connection. But he could tell that within moments of making your acquaintance, you understood who he was. He was a Hanma, and therefore, he was a threat.

Seeing you cower before him, your whole body vibrating in a state of alarm, eyes darting around the vicinity as you tried to map an escape route should this meeting go south… it broke his heart. It wasn’t that he was immune to your charms, Yuichiro could definitely see the appeal of wanting to be close to you in an intimate manner, but to take you by force? To treat you so horribly, handle you so violently? It took all his power not to make his rage over the injustices you had faced show on his features, lest he frighten you further.

It took a while for you to warm up to him, but the relationship that blossomed was well worth the effort. You were a lovely person all around, beautiful in every sense of the word. The more he got to know you, the more he saw your true personality shine through, and the longer he spent with you, the more his affection for you grew.

Yuichiro had made his decision. You would be safe with him-completely and undeniably cared for under his watchful eye. He would be the father Yujiro never could be, the protector your brothers failed to be. He would become your family, a true family, and insure that you will never have to spend another day living in fear ever again.

In short, Yuichiro’s arrival would probably be the ONLY thing that would ultimately protect you from Yujiro and the rest of the Hanma family. This is great for you because he’s a man of his word, the moment you come under his care Yujiro’s entire existence is like a distant nightmare, and that is something you are exceedingly grateful for. However, you feel the absence of Jack and Baki much more profoundly, as you considered them to be your true family and still love them very deeply. Even though you know ultimately this arrangement is for the best, and you feel much safer and happier in Yuichiro’s care than you have ever felt with anyone else in your life, you still find yourself missing Jack and Baki greatly. Even with their betrayal shattering the last of your innocence, causing you deep and lasting scars, life without them still hurt, and you don’t think you’ll ever heal enough to ignore the pain.

… All this being said, it wouldn’t be on brand for me to answer this without fucking it up a little bit, right?

After some time living with Yuichiro, growing dependent on him for basic care and protection, his fondness for you begins to manifest in ways that are… shocking, even to Yuichiro himself. 

Maybe it was the long absence of a lover that began to steer his desires, or perhaps it was the sweet and selfless nature in which you offered your love to him? Who knew it would warm his heart so much to see you standing in the kitchen, sweet little apron tied around your waist as you hummed a little tune, hard at work preparing a new recipe you had picked out specifically to please him? All the little things you did without a second thought made is body and soul ache for you.

You were always cute, but when exactly did you become so irresistible to him?

It caught him off guard to feel a flutter in his stomach when he saw your smile or heard your laugh. At his age he figured he was far past feelings like this, especially with someone so much younger than himself, especially with you.

He didn’t expect the blush that dusted your cheeks when he entered the bath you were currently occupying to excite him as much as it did. He took great pride in the control he had over his body, keeping his emotions and desire in check was one of his strong suits. But seeing you there, bare and bashful, trying desperately to cover yourself while your eyes refused to linger on any part of his exposed body for too long… you were definitely testing his limits here, sweetheart.

Did you know how effortlessly beautiful you were? Did you realize just how tantalizing even the most innocent of your actions were? Would it upset you if he told you how pretty he found your body, as his eyes drank in every inch of skin you were working so hard to hide? Would it scare you if he helped you to understand just how much sway you had over not just his heart, but all of his wants and desires?

He had chided and scorned his family for their mistreatment of you, the sick, twisted feelings they pummeled you with not only threatened your existence, but were also a stain on the illustrious Hanma name. Yuichiro wanted nothing more than your happiness and your security, both were things he took great honor in providing to you, and he found his own joy in knowing you felt contentment with him after so much suffering. But he was starting to get an itch that was growing harder and harder to scratch. An itch he felt his kin was all too familiar with.

Maybe he’s not so different from his son and grandsons after all?

[cryiling]

who is this togachako I'm hearing of? :O

only the most tragic toxic doomed yuri ever from my hero academia 😞

it's a ship between toga, a villain who stabs people she loves and drinks their blood to turn into them; and ochako, a hero student who, after learning more about toga, wants to save and understand her

in their final battle, they have THIS interaction omg. toga asks if she has a cute smile, and ochako tells her she's the cutest in the whole world. im devastated

but they've been fighting to the death this whole time, and ochako gets like severely injured. as in, she's bleeding out and is about to die. but toga doesn't want ochako to die, so guess what she decides to do 😖 she drinks some of ochako's blood to turn into her, then gives ochako all of her blood in order to save her

(read right to left)

but ofc this means that toga will die instead. ochako tries to stop her, but toga won't let her. this is her final act of expressing her love towards ochako. and it BREAKS MY HEARTTTT

and then there's THIS beautiful manga panel with toga's devastating dialogue

and so toga dies in ochako's arms 😭

anyways. all that's to say they're my favorite doomed yuri ever </3 and as for how it relates to your post, ochako's girlfriend is toga, the girl who stabbed her multiple times :') peak romance tho

[stingrachelmha]

for the requests thing perhaps. all might taking care of a very sleepy izuku and tucking him in or something .......

Now this is my kind of request!!!!! I’m afraid I shot it with the angst beam though. Toshi is helping Izuku catch some Zs during the vigilante arc. He is very sleepy

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero didn’t even want to look at it.

“Okay,” the villain said. Despite the tears in their eyes, they were a little too calm for the hero’s liking. But they supposed they had always been the opposite to the hero when it came to stressful situations.

Usually the hero could deal with stress pretty well, they were a hero after all, but it was getting increasingly difficult to operate when neither time nor solutions were on their side. It was frustrating and the hero wasn’t used to losing.

“You have to break my femur now,” the villain said. They looked down at the wound and then at the hero who prayed this was a poorly timed joke. “Remember, it’s the strongest and thickest bone in the body, so you may need quite a bit of force.”

“I am not going to break your bones, I—” The hero wanted to throw up. They could see parts of the injury under all that rubble and they didn’t want to imagine how much pain the villain was in right now. The villain didn’t scream nor curse, they bottled everything up and let tears speak for themselves. They knew the villain was tough. But could anyone be this tough?

It was one of the villain’s qualities they admired oh so much but it was also something that seemed to doom them.

“It’s just one bone. I’d do it myself but the angle is shitty and you’re stronger.”

“No, don’t make me do this.” The villain grabbed the hero’s arm quickly and stared them dead in the eye. Their fingers dug into the hero’s suit but it was just a fraction of the pain the villain endured.

The hero panicked. If they had been any other person — hero or villain — they wouldn’t have hesitated to break the bone. But this was them. They didn’t want to hurt them, they didn’t want to break any of their bones.

“Listen, if we want to save my leg, you have to break it. We don’t have much time. I’m bleeding out and I need some fucking painkillers. I’m not gonna stay here so your hero-friends can arrest me.” Their face was pale and the hero’s tongue was heavy.

“I can’t, please, I cannot do that to you.”

“I’m just another villain on your list to cross out,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s arm harder and their eyes widened, as if a wave of pain had just hit them. They made a noise close to a grunt but again, they were hiding it perfectly.

“No, you’re not, you’re really not.”

“If you want to save my life, you’ll have to do this. You’re a hero, aren’t you?” The hero had no words left.

The truth was, they had had a crush on the villain for quite some time now and even though they knew rationally they needed to do this, they weren’t quite there emotionally yet.

“You should get a pipe. You crush the bone and then hopefully, it’ll be easier to pull me out. The angle should be better. I might pass out though, I’ll just…” They didn’t look as confident anymore.

“If we wait for my friends to arrive, they can help you, maybe I can—”

“They will arrest me if I’m not dead by then. I’m counting on you.”

I’m counting on you.

The hero’s fingers trembled. Breaking someone’s bone — they had never done that on purpose. And yet, they knew the villain was right. It seemed to be the only way out for them.

“I called you,” the villain said, “because I trust you. I need you. I’ll do you a favour in return, I promise. Just, please.”

The hero took the villain’s hand and pulled it close to their chest.

“I’ll do it,” the hero said.

“Great.” Unsurprisingly, the villain wasn’t happy. Their other hand was shaking and they looked already traumatised. The hero wished they could make this easier but there didn’t seem to be any options left.

“I’ll just have to tell you something real quick.”

“What?”

“I have a crush on you.” The villain stared at them. They didn’t look mad nor did they look annoyed.

“Wait. Really?”

“Yes.”

The hero just had to tell them. If this was it, if the villain would get captured or worse, if they died, they needed to know that the hero had crush on them.

They wouldn’t be able to deal with that for the rest of their life. So whatever happened now, the villain would live through it, knowing what they meant to the hero.

“This is really bad timing, darling.” Another tear ran down the villain’s cheek. They squeezed the hero’s hand.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the pipe.” The hero didn’t find one. Instead, they found a brick. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about that. “Okay. Again, I’m really sorry.”

The hero grabbed the brick with two hands.

“Wait.” The hero did. “I think I like you too.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” the hero whispered.

“I thought you needed the challenge.” As answer, the hero let out something closer to a sob than a laugh.

What happened next would give them nightmares for the following decades.

[cydanite]

"You remember that you are a distinct being with a finite form and a mortal body."

!!SPOILERS for the ending of StP!!

Concept sketch for my interpretation of Slay the Princess’s protagonist. I like the canon vagueness of his design, but I came up with a concept I wanted to explore c:

He has 2 pairs of wings, one on his head and one on his back. The "Narrator", in trapping him, clipped his wings and disguised them as hair and a cloak. Best to not to give any reminder that flying out of the woods is even an option.

The smaller pair wrap around his head like hair, the few remaining primaries folding over each other as bangs. On the “thumb” of the wings are birds feel, decoratively chained together. Don’t be fooled into thinking that chain isn’t meant to hold, though.

The larger pair drapes limply off his shoulders like a cloak. It’s fastened by an X shape. You know the one, when people are lazy with drawing medieval clothing (myself included) we use it as a closure, a formless cross drawstring. You don’t question it when you see it. You wouldn’t suspect it’s two massive metal staples puncturing his flesh.

He can’t see his wings for what they are, so he doesn't feel through them. Not until he can manage to remember...

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(also i wrote a snippet hehe)

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The Narrator: The pain is threefold.

First comes stiffness, an ancient ache creeping in from the edge of your perception.

Awareness of this newfound sensation latches on to your mind and pulls, quickly fracturing into a sprawling map of new body parts.

It’s your hair. It hurts, in ways hair shouldn't be able to hurt. Every fiber protests against you despite being just hair mere moments ago.

The fabric of your cloak betrays you as well. You're inescapably aware of the space you now take up. New, itching, uncomfortable, ugly sensations form all down your back.

Voice of the Hero: It's like we just regained blood circulation there. We're being stabbed a thousand times over.

The Narrator: It doesn't end there. Injuries that previously gone unnoticed now make themselves known. You recall running sharp fingers through your hair. Only now can you feel the dried blood. You would've taken better care of that cloak if you'd known it was made up of you.

Voice of the Hero: But what's happening to us?

The Narrator: The web of pain maps out its shape. Two pairs of feathered wings become part of your body once again.

Voice of the Hero: 'Once again'... having wings makes sense, I suppose. But how could we have forgotten this? It seems so inescapable now.

The Narrator: But as you go to reign motor over your limbs once again, the third pain rears it’s ugly head… cold, harsh metal digs into your flesh.

It pins your limbs in their poses. A tiny set of cuffs pull small wings taught around the circumference of your head.

The closure of your "cape" is two enormous staples, staked through your flesh and clamped down hard. There's no blood here, the wound long since healed.

...Who or whatever did this to you, it was never intended to be removed.

Voice of the Hero: Maybe we should keep more vigilant in the future. If we can't trust our own body... I don't want to think about it more than we have to.