What It Means To Be Dead (Tokoyami X Reader)

What It Means To Be Dead (Tokoyami x Reader)

Fandom: Bnha Warnings: Mentions of Dying, depression, bullying, abuse, and strong language Words: 2k259 Requested By: Anon <3 Request:  Hi I love your writing! Can I request one where Tokoyami )or anyone you'd like really,) finds a collection of old-ish diaries and letters while cleaning? The person's handwriting is very distinct and pretty (Think 1700's love letter find) but they never mention their name. As they read more of it they find newer entries where Aizawa is mentioned so they ask him about it only to find out the person who wrote them died almost 100 years ago and 'haunts' the school. (Sorry for long request) A/N: I deviated a little from the request, but I hope you like it!

            The night had already came and claimed the land of UA for itself. Shadows overtook the courtyards, and darkness fell across the classrooms, but not everyone had retreated to the safety of their comforters which shielded them from the secrets which the black abyss held so dear. 

After a draining day of learning and training, Tokoyami wanted nothing more than to go to sleep- sadly, it was his turn to clean the classroom. It was annoying and boring and he’d give anything to be able to go to sleep, but fair is fair and he wasn’t the tyrannical type.

And so, he washed the windows and wiped down the desks. He swept the floors and organized the textbooks, and he turned to put the broom back into the small closet in the corner of the classroom. With a heavy sigh, Fumikage realized he should probably tidy up the dirty, dust-filled, death trap that was called a broom closet. 

Narrowing his eyes at the cobwebs, he started to knock them down with the end of the broomstick (Seriously praying to whatever god there is that no spider fell onto his feathers). The room was in worse condition on closer inspection, it looked like not a soul had thought to clean it since the school was built. 

After taking the time to sweep the floors, wipe down the door and the counters, and organize the books, Tokoyami was beyond tired and ready to fall asleep in the still-somehow-dirty closet. No matter how many times he swung at the cobwebs, how many times he picked up the coats and books and papers on the floor, despite the effort he put into tidying up the smallish space, it still seemed to have a weird layer of age coating itself entirely.

The closet felt preserved in time, like the oldness it felt was not just in the items littered about, but in the very walls itself. The things it’s seen, the memories it held, something about the space simply felt... wrong. 

He turned to a corner he hadn’t worked on, inwardly groaning at the amount of work he still had to do despite the time of night. With a huff, he began to organize the textbooks and pages of work sprawled around the space. 

His hands fell upon and old leather book- very different in both appearance and age when compared to the marble notebooks that surrounded it. Leaning over, he saw ten to fifteen more of there journal like collections shoved deep into the corner of the room. 

Tentatively, he peeled open the first book. Looking at the pages, it looked to be the diary of a girl- the beautiful handwriting looked like it belonged to someone who saw the beauty that exists within the written language, someone who stops to smell the flowers, a person who looks at sunsets and bakes goods to say they love you. 

The ink that bled onto the early pages spoke of a student, a girl who wanted to be so much more, someone who wanted to save the world. He became enthralled by the speech patterns, the phrases and swirls of the letters drew him closer, enchanting his eyes to never leave the pages.

------ 

Soon the pages became all he could think about, even after he had to abandon the closet to race to bed. During class all he could think of was the feeling of the crisp paper under his touch. The voices of his friends seemed ugly, seemed to be missing the douse of honesty and beauty he had been exposed to, even when he was practicing all he could focus on was the experiences of the girl who wrote down all her inner thoughts. 

It was like she haunted him, appearing everywhere he went. Like she poisoned him, infecting his thoughts and feelings. She became everything to him so soon, every word had him on edge, every sentence a beautiful stream of imagery that he would give nothing but to experiencing along side her, what he wouldn’t give to see the world through her eyes of love.

As the day ended, he had quiet easily convinced Sero that he should take over his night of cleaning. Sure the actual work was quiet annoying, but he would be rewarded with her sweet words, he had left the book in the corner in his rush to get back to his dorm; he regretted his oversight the moment he laid down.

“Tokoyami, wasn’t your cleaning duty last night?” Aizawa asked, his eyes lazy looking up from the papers he was grading to make contact with Fumikage’s red ones. 

“Yes sir, it was. I volunteered to take over tonight as well,” 

“Mhm, and is there a reason for this?” He raised his eyebrow, dragging his briefcase off the table with him. 

“Cleaning helps me think,” this wasn’t a total lie, reading the journal will calm his raging thoughts of the mystery girl. 

“Just don’t make a habit of it,” his teacher echoed, not having enough energy to further investigate a seemingly innocent interaction.

Tokoyami was much faster with cleaning that day, and he was even faster to sprint inside the broom closet. He grabbed the leather books and raced back to his room, already feeling the warmth her voice provided. 

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The passages started off innocent enough, complaints about school, fantasizing about a better life, just a teen writing down their emotions. It then morphed into the beauty in everything, words that didn’t release Fumikage’s eyes until they were tearing up from dryness. 

Then, things took a darker turn. Dark thoughts disguised in poems, things others have said to her, representation of her pain in drawings scattered throughout the book. The beautiful world- though still majestic in its own way- turned dark and twisted.

It was painful to read, and yet he couldn’t look away. It was like the book became a part of him- no. It was like he became a part of the book, nothing more than the cracked parchment and spilled ink. It was dehumanizing, but he wouldn’t change his position for anything in the world.

His bed was taken over by the old pages, dating back over two hundred years ago. The writer was in the post-quirk awakening. The world had just discovered the glowing child right before she was born. She was one of the first quirk holders in the world- one of the first one hundred Japanese citizens to have a quirk.

The journals started when she was ten- though that book was the fifth one he read. After that discovery, he categorized them in chronological order to read along with the flow of time. She wrote of the manifestation of her quirk- her parents had been struck with terror when their daughter walked through the wall of their living room to get into her bedroom. 

That was the first moment she realized how different she is. Her life never seemed to go back to the way it was before, not even after the initial shock of what she could do faded from her parents; because, there would always be a new shock, a new ability, and no one was prepared to help her.

He realized, reading more about how the quirkless treated her, that her life would have been much different is she had lived in his time. Hearing the slurs and bullying they  put her through, he wishes she could see how much the world has changed- would she be happy or sad that her bully's became the minority and were mocked in their normal-ness or if she would be ashamed of the people like her.

He was very satisfied that the people who made her life so awful were getting a taste of their own medicine, but he did wonder if that made him a bad person. Tokoyami figures that it really didn’t matter, she was gone so her opinion would never be known. 

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“Death didn’t feel like I thought it would. Surprisingly, it was reminiscent of when I use my quirk to posses things or people. My body was there, on the floor, but I was floating above it. Much like I am when I leave my body before finding my target. The cold was instantly recognizable- like an abyss with no end.

The only difference I’ve noticed so far is the lack of body to return to, though I can enter it, it acts as an object. While I cannot move it, I can see out of it. It’s therapeutic in a way. Really, this must have been the best case scenario- I could see how everyone reacts, see who really cares about me.

It was hard at first, seeing all theses people, who I believed were simply pretending to care, braking down behind closed doors. It was only my sister- whom held no quirk- that cared. She did everything she could to make my funeral how I wanted it, and she preserved my bedroom the way I liked it. That was a nice gesture, it truly was. 

Now my life has come to an end- my body buried under ground, never to be seen again- I can’t help but wonder what comes next. How long will I be held in this mortal world? Will others be like me, or will I be forced to live alone in the agonizing realization that comes with immortality? I guess I’ll simply have to wait and see,”

-----------------------

He had fallen asleep after reading the last passage in the ninth book- where she described how she stayed a student at UA even after death. The names she referenced had been lost in time- Pro-heroes that have long been dead and are now another name on the Hero Memorial wall. 

She had possessed her home room teacher and walked to the headmaster- there she said what had happened. Her headmaster agreed to keep her on as a student, but only under the condition that she wouldn’t unnecessarily possess an unknowing student. It was fair- annoying but fair. They gave her her old desk and she worked along side everyone. When he woke up, the book had moved on its own. 

There was a page opened- an elegant scipt sprawllled at the top but had been smuged since it was written- the only elligable part following what could be assumed to be a name: Phatom-- The Ghost Hero. The script was familiar, but it wasn’t the handwriting the rest of the journal was written in. Beneath it was a drawing of a girl- a girl more beautiful than anyone Fumikage had ever seen. It was a realistic depiction and it looked modern- it was only with that realization which led Tokoyomi to realize this journal wasn’t one he had seen before. Flipping through it, he hadn’t even noticed its sudden appearance. It was the newest one of them all- spanning for the last decade.  He leaned back in his bed and began,

So I guess it’s been a while huh? Here are some general updates: Shouta from class 2-A is an idiot but I guess he’s kinda cute. We picked out hero names today, I wanted to just keep my name but he dubbed me Phantom.. I called him Eraserhead in return. I hope it sticks. 

I’ve graduated from UA more than six times now- but I kinda like it. I do some professional hero work- especially info recall- but I’m worried about how the public will react to a ghost. It would definitely fuck with some peoples religious views. 

It’s better this way. I’ve also decided to distance myself from Shinso- she and I got along great, but her twin brother has been acting weirdly around me for a while. His quirk is amazing, but I’ve seen plenty of unstable students pass through these halls and I know enough to keep my distance. Shouta doesn’t seem to agree- neither does Hizashi. I guess only time will tell.

As for manifesting my physical form- it’s a lot harder than I had hoped. I can become visual for three active minutes or ten minutes with no moving. I’m still not touchable, but I hope that will change with time. That’s all for now- I’ll try to check in soon.

He shook his head- surely those names must be common, but she was in UA and only so many coincidences can happen at one time. He wonders how she was now. Mostly, he wonders if she’s still at UA. They hadn’t announced her as a student, so was she a pro hero now? 

Was it weird to still be in the body of a sixteen year old? There were so many issues with immortality- he wondered how she coped with it. These questions abused him throughout the morning. He thought of how lonely she must be, how it must be so awful to be all by herself.

He wondered why he cared so much- why had he developed such a strong scene of attachement to this girl? The fuzzy feeling in his chest when he saw the drawing of the girl had taken up his entire mind- he needed to know more.

As soon as he entered his familiar class room he marched straight up to his teachers desk with passion in his eyes- “Professor, can we talk after class? I have some questions I’d like to ask you,”

Aizawa glarred at the corner of the room, an annoyed frown tugging at his lips. This was gonna be a long day.

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A/N 

Sorry for dropping off the planet everyone! This has been in the drafts for a  long time and finally gets to see the light of day. I’ve had some mental health issues (not related to this story don’t worry) and am working on myself. I fully intend to finish the Christmas countdown I committed to and this account is still active, but this will remain on the back burner until I am well on my way to recovery. Requests will remain open for the time being and I will continue to make progress. Thank you for the lovely anon’s in my inbox with constant support and requests, I appreciate all of you. Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed this work <3

Headcanons for Bakugo having a crush on Kirishimas Girlfriend!

 (I freaking love this thanks Anon!)

♞ Katsuki had met her first, to say he liked her was a bit of an understatement.

♞ There he was, minding his own business and killing robots when out of nowhere this badass girl with two literal dragons protruding from her arms swoops down from the sky, free-falling, and obliterates this GIANT robot for no freaking reason.

♞But you know what really made him fall for her?

♞After she landed, she turned around with a fucking smile on👏 her👏 face👏!

♞Like what? Seriously, no concern, no fear, just enjoying taking something down that was well over ten times her height.

♞ She was beautiful, her hair flew in the winds behind her, and she was destroying robots everywhere he looked! It was... amazing.

♞ On the first day, he was fully expecting to see her in his class. She was flawless in the entrance exams, it only made sense that she would be on the top.

♞ He was expecting to see her, but he wasn’t nearly as prepared as he thought he was. Bakugo stumbled as soon as he saw her.

♞ Her y/e/c eyes were firey with passion, and the way she held herself, it was like she had already made the new space feel like home.

♞ She looked over to the door, and a wide smile took over her face when she recognized the blond boy she had met during the test.

♞ She was walking over. Crap she’s walking over! What do I do what do I say what the fuck is happening?!

♞ “Hey, there blondey! My name Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

♞ After that, Y/n never really talked to him again. Sure she was here and there, always thriving in whatever environment she was placed in. She was in his classes, but it almost felt like they were in two different worlds.

♞ But god, that only made when she did talk to him so much better. Her bright smile was so foreign in his world, he had never met someone like her before, someone so determined with everything she did. Except- maybe he had.

♞He never had many friends. Sure people had a tendency to follow behind him, but no one ever walked beside him when he was growing up. He never had a friend, there was no one to challenge him, no one for him to chase after.

♞And then he met a red-head who shared the same head-strong personality as the girl who had stolen his heart. Maybe it was because they were so similar that he hung out with Kirishima so much.

♞ No matter the actual reason, Kirishima became a part of the Bakugo deal, where one went the other was sure to be close by.

♞The grew very close, so it was no surprise that Kirishima came to him when he developed a crush, complaining about how he didn’t know how to talk to her.

♞”Dude just talk to them, if they don’t like you back they’re an idiot- you’re too good for them.”

♞ Yeah... That kinda backfired?

♞ The next thing he knew Kirishima was carrying her bag into class and walking her to her desk.

♞ In all honesty it made a little too much sense, they were so similar it was hard to believe they weren’t soulmates. 

♞The first time he saw them together it hurt- like a burning in his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if it was from anger or fear.

♞ He ignored the ache in his heart when he brought her over, his arm wrapped around her shoulders while her hand was resting on his opposite hips- clinging to each other like a crutch.

♞ “Baku-bro!”  

♞ Damn, every word of that conversation was a small dagger pushing into his heart. There was a burning in his eyes and throat, it just hurt so fucking bad.

♞ He’d smile at them, and when Y/n started joining their nightly hang outs, or when she’d join in on their video games,  he wouldn’t say anything.

♞ At night though, he would re-start the day. He’d imagine it was him that walked you to school, he was the one you sat with at lunch. You were holding onto him, not his best friend. 

♞ It was selfish- he was damn well aware of that. 

♞ That’s why he never said anything. He knew better than to open his mouth.

♞ Kirishima was  is his best friend, and he knows that if he every told Eijirou that he was in love, Kiri would break up with her. Not because he thought Bakugo’s happiness would be a priority, but because he knows what it feels like. 

♞ Kirishima knows how much it hurts to see the love of your life love someone else.

♞ He knows, because he watched Y/n fall deeper and deeper in love with his best friend every day before he asked her out. 

♞ He knows, because he sees the same thing that Bakugo does every night and it ruins him to think there’s a world where that happens                                 

♞ But he doesn’t break up with Y/n here in this world, he doesn’t need to. Y/n and him are in love, and Bakugo doesn’t feel that way towards his girlfriend.

♞ And for the first time, Kirishima has something bakugo no one else has. 

♞ And for the first time, Bakugo doesn’t speak his mind- even if it breaks his heart a little every time. 

♞ And it’s not the first nor last time that the two best friends will cry themselves to sleep.

A Cold Winter Night (Tokoyami x Reader)

Pairing: F. Tokoyami

Warnings: Pinning ig, just cute fluff really Words:620 Requested By: @crushonkatsuki and @feelinpeachyken Request:  

Hello, dunno if you are taking requests or not. but, if you are, may i have a random soft Tokoyami (x reader). I mean, I read doesnt hurt pt. 1-3 and I'm feeling soft. thanks!

Could we get another part of the "Doesn't Hurt" series? I need more of MC and Tokoyami living happily ever after!

Thanks for the request! I will always be down to write fluff, but I can’t help but throw a little pain in there special just for you <3 I’m glad you liked Doesn’t Hurt! It means a lot, and I really appreciate the interaction xoxo

       “I think you’re being a little over-dramatic,” Y/n rolled her eyes, and a soft smile grew on her face. Looking into her boyfriends dorm room, a stack of twenty-three blankets piled on his bed caught her eye.

“Is wanting to avoid frostbite overdramatic to you?” Tokoyami had questioned, happily re-arranging his bed into a nest-like appearance big enough for both of them.

“Depends,” she hopped onto the bed, bouncing up and down before her weight was supported by the cheap school-mandated bed frame, “are you outside? How cold is it? And are you in the arctic; because, otherwise I think you’re being a little itty bitty bit overzealous?”

Fumikage made a small noise of displeasure at her shifting the bed arrangement, and he went back to fixing the covers as he said, “You’re just lucky I love you enough to rescue you from that frozen balcony of yours,” 

“Jokes on you, I like freezing on my balcony,” She winked at him, a sense of validation falling on her once her boyfriend snorted at her snarky remarks. 

“You’re ridiculous, y’know that, right?”

“Oh, of course, it takes a lot of work to be this perfect,” she moved over so Fumikage would have enough room to sit beside her, back cushioned by a wall of pillows.

“It works for you,” he smiled, pulling his laptop onto his lap- tilting it so there would be no glare from Y/n’s angle. 

“What does?” She asked, shifting closer to his body heat.

“Perfection,”

A small blush and quaint smile pulled on her lips as she softly placed her head on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. “You’re such a dork, just start the movie,”

—————————————

As the night went on, Fumikage found Y/n nestled happily in the warmth of his make-shift nest of blankets and pillows.

The soft glow of his laptop screen illuminated her face- he couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky. She truly is the epitome of perfection; Y/n is beautiful on the outside, but it was the golden glow of her heart that drew him in.

Her kind smile, the gentle touch of her hand when she comforted him, her never ending support on all his ventures; how she came to settle for him was beyond what Tokoyami could comprehend. Whatever deity was out there definitely did him a favor.

His feathers ruffled up as she nestled her face into the crook of his neck, it tickled but Y/n was the cutest person to ever exist. He gave her a soft peck on the forehead and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

Y/n smiled so softly it would be impossible to see unless it was actively searched for. It was clear to everyone that they were to impossibly in love with each other, they were twin flames- made for each other in every possible way. Like two pieces of a puzzle their hands were molded for each other, and every night Y/n’s soulmate went to sleep wishing he was the one sleeping next to her.

Every night, just a wall away, he fell asleep hearing them speak so softly to each other, just imagining she was with him instead of Tokoyami. Every night he lays wondering where he went wrong, why she never even looked his way. Shoto thought he would never fall in love, but, as soon as he did, he realized he was too late.

She was a beautiful angel who would never be with him, and the worst thing was that he was happy for her. At least he knew she would fall asleep with a smile on her face every night- it just hurt that it wasn’t him that put it there. 

Far From Freezing

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia, My Hero Academia Warnings: Fire, Cold Weather, Passing Out, Reference Nudity, Reference to Sex, fluff Words: 2k388 Requested By: Anon Summary: Winter’s here, not that this effects the doting girlfriend of the half hot half cold idol of class 1A

      The bus ride had always been Y/n’s least favorite part of any given day. Attending the most prestigious hero school was a dream come true- but it came with prices big and small. One of which was the half-hour commute from the L/n house to the building. Her parents were both long gone by five thirty in the morning- and, not wanting to wake up at dawn to be ready on time, Y/n settled for the six thirty bus ride to Musutafu. 

Had it just been the rocky streets which pestered her journey she’d be fine- cursed with headaches and vertigo, but fine. She could take the annoying passengers which surrounded her as well; they kept their distance, and headphones worked wonders nowadays. Y/n could suffer all of this- she could handle it all, except the cold. 

Born with a temperature dangerously below what the human body required, Y/n’s parents knew early on what quirk she would have. Absolute Zero- the ability to slow the kinetic energy of anything she touches. Having a naturally cold body temperature meant she was constantly in layers and searching for a heatsource in anything she touches. While it wasn’t a serious issue, it was a constant bother to the teen girl. 

So there she was, sitting alone in the back of a shaking bus, with a scowl on her face as the familiar ache in her fingers came back. Desperate for relief, Y/n ignored the self-inflicted pain and rubbed her covered hands together. This bus ride went on far too long.

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“Stupid bus, stupid cold weather, stupid freaking shoes,” soft muttering fell from Y/n’s lips as she swapped her winter boots- which excellently trapped the heat from the heating pads her socks concealed- to the thin indoor shoes the school mandated. She took two steps away from her locker before deciding the ache already taking over her heels was far from worth it, and she swapped back to her large and fuzzy winter boots; dress code be damned. 

Y/n couldn’t help but glare softly at the other students of class 2-A. While she loved each and every one of them dearly, seeing her best friends happily chatting away the warm air in their chests left her with undying envy. It didn’t help the cold that freezes over her heart come winter either. Her classmates, who she typically hangs off of and adores, had a tendency to ignore her come november. 

They meant no harm, and Y/n’s pretty sure they do is subconsciencly. She slows the air around her, causing the temperature to cool- whether her classmates noticed or not they steered away from her. In addition to that, Y/n had a very different atmosphere in general come the holidays. Blame the ache in her bones, her abandonment issues, her parents who were always too busy to celebrate festivities, blame anything you’d like- but the only thing Y/n enjoyed about winter was the beautiful moments of solitude.

While she was normally very outgoing and attentive to others, Y/n took the frozen season as a time for herself. She cherished the heavy blankets and knitted sweaters- fuzzy socks and fireplaces, watching television with a mug of hot chocolate, ten layers of wool and heating pads while music for only her played. Y/n loved the rare alone time the snowy season provided, but the biter-sweetness of it all never seemed to fade. 

Can you really blame her for the blood-freezing glare she sent the class representative? Don’t get her wrong, Y/n follows the rules and get’s some of the best grades in the class. She was a threat to whoever opposed her, but she was very stubborn. Perhaps that was the only feature she inherited from her spit fire of a mother. 

So there she was, perched at her desk, arms folded, ignoring one of her friends. Iida glared directly back, lecturing her on the importance of following the dress code and how it’s their not only for aesthetic purposes but for their own good. Once she realized he couldn’t understand why she was wrapped in five layers in the heated room, Y/n stood from her seat and walked over to him. Noticing the shivers that coursed through his spine as she approached, Iida took a half-step back from her. She confidently placed her hand on his blazar covered shoulders.

“This is what I feel like right now,” she spoke- her voice a whisper which replicates a howl in the wind. Iida- now much colder than he once wan- nods and lets her off with a warning before returning to his seat, discreetly starting his engines in order to heat up once again.

She wishes for many things- but above everything she wished her hero-phobic parents would have allowed her to stay at the dorms. Anything would have been better than this. The cold from the metal walls still nipped at her skin an hour later, and Y/n was ready to tap out and go to the nurses office so she could lie atop a furnace to heat up once again. 

Sadly, Mr. Aizawa refused to allow that. Quirk training had officially started, and he considered this endurance practice for the aspiring female hero. While the other students worked on pushing their quirks to the limits and beyond, she did the same. Stripping of her wool layers down to her uniform- taking of her shoes and socks. 

Her quirk worked through thermal equilibrium, her body needs to be colder than the object she touches to slow the atoms in it. While she could slow her body at will, she lacked the ability to speed it up again. This is a bridge she couldn’t cross any time soon. So, instead, she was told to focus on slowing her body as much as she can. While her body is meant to withstand cold temperatures, the coldest she has ever gotten was negative one hundred and sixty degrees degrees before falling asleep. While that was a remarkable feat, she was sure she could go lower.

That’s how she got into her current predicate. With Aizawa’s encouragent, Y/n breathed slowly and steadily, attempting to reach or break her current record. The time she had gotten that cold was under extreme stress- a fire had started in the daycare her little brother attended. She and the teacher were the only ones there who weren’t children- and they hadn’t been informed of the newest quirk-manifestation. This child was the first in the school to gain their non-mutan quirk, and it had been a complete surprise. 

The child was playing with her brother and didn’t want Y/n to take him away- thus he accidentally sent flames in her way. While he wasn’t very strong, Y/n’s little brother had been born with their mothers quirk- Enhancer. He naturally multiplied the quirks strength of whoever he touched. When he tried to move his friends hands away from his sister- he greatly increased the heat of the flames. Y/n was quick to respond and she was left unscaved- with only a minor fear of children from that day forward. 

Now, she was determined to gain that kind of control again. The air in the building began to drop and Y/n relaxed her body. Once it had dropped ten degreed in a matter of seconds eyes looked over at both Todoroki and Y/n. When Shoto shook his head, showing he had made no ice, all eyes fell on the so called ‘Winter Hero’, Frostbite- as the tabloids happily referred to her as. 

Aizawa kept a trained eye on her figure, noticing the increase paleness of her skin. While she was typically much paler than the average person due to her resting body temperature of 75 degrees, a noticeable blue undertone started to form. 

As the room became colder and colder, all practicing stopped. The students shivered in the freezing room, as their body heat no longer kept the temperatures up. The one a-little-warmer-than-comfortable 90 degree room fell to fifty degrees and showed no sign of stopping as the girl kept her focus. As she continued she opened her eyes, becoming aware of the silence now surrounding her. She had become much stronger than last year. She scored very well on all quirk testing, but she could only get her body temp to around negative ninety degrees. Now, with all her practice, she reached that in no time. 

As he watched his other students begin to shutter at the sudden cold and rub their hands together for warmth, he wonders if he should stop Y/n for the day. Still, he needed to know her limit. This is what the day was for, to determine who needed extra supervision and would need immediate assistance in case of a vilain attack. He’d just have to deal with the consequences of his decision after she was done.

Still, despite how rigid her posture, despite the blue hues taking over her skin, despite the ice which froze in the air around her, she kept going. Colder and colder until breathing became difficult for the other students. The ground turned to frost, and the students became slower and slower until they too were stuck in place. Standing next to the thermostat, Aizawa watched as it rapidly declined. Once her eyelashes had frozen together Y/n’s annoyance only fed her need to grow stronger. 

So wrapped up in her own world, she finally snapped out of her inner monologue long enough to realize a hand was on her shoulder. Aizawa could only touch her for a moment before hissing in pain and withdrawing it. Even through her blazer the cold attacked him, and the skin on his hand had ripped and cracked. He shook his head at his own stupidity. Still, Y/n stopped lowering her body temperature. 

“You beat your record by one hundred and ten degrees, you can stop now.” Y/n couldn’t understand what her teacher was saying, but she knew he was talking to her. Swaying in place, Y/n only recognized a sudden heat before passing out.

------------------------------

Waking up in the infirmary was something Y/n had a love-hate relationship with. While she despised the idea of either losing control or being injured, the nurse always turned up the temperature unreasonably hot in her office whenever she was admitted. It always made Y/n feel a little special, knowing a faculty member would withstand an above one hundred degree room just for her comfort. It was nice. 

Still, the heat felt different than the other times she awoke in the medical bed. Shuffling closer to the warmth, Y/n finally opened her eyes to find a beautiful sight. Shoto was asleep next to her, wearing a baby blue turtleneck and looking angelic. It wasn’t rare for the two of them to cuddle with his fire side against her- he was well aware of the downside of Y/n’s quirk. He was a little cautious at first, but he soon linked her to the stray cats which followed him during winter. They would constantly sit against his leg once the cold air came back- finding comfort in something he was once scared of.

Now, he loved it. He adored that he could help his beautiful girlfriend. She had once told him that the only time she went extremely low in temperature she had entered a coma, and it took two weeks for the hospital to find someone with a fire quirk strong enough to comfort her. Now, he was there. 

Sure it was a little awkward, after all, she had been stripped by the nurse so he could send fire at his unconscious girlfriends body. It was more than a little questionable, and had not both parties and their parents consented to this being a solution (and this not being the only circumstances he’s seen Y/n naked in before), Shoto always felt guilty, like he was taking advantage of his sleeping girlfriend. While he never touched her, and her figure was obscured by the flames, he always covered his eyes. Yet, he still felt guilt chew away at him until she woke up. Until she reassured him she was fine with it, he felt like without her verbal consent he was destroying her trust in him- and it was an emotional wrecking ball every time. 

No matter how many time’s Y/n tried to help him understand her appreciation for him, Shoto always felt the desire to dote on her for at least a day afterwards. It was his own special was of saying “I’m sorry,” despite Y/n feeling like he was never in the wrong. 

Either way, Y/n wasn’t gong to complain- especially today. Watching him stir awake, Y/n moved slightly away- only for Shoto’s arm to wrap around her and pull Y/n back into his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” his lips rested against her hair while he spoke- eyes clenched tight as he tried to preserve the sweet atmosphere.

“Thank you,” Y/n responded, looking up to his face and kissing his noes. 

“I called your parents,” he explained, hugging her close and snaking his arms around her waist. 

“Yeah?” She smiled- already knowing how that conversation probably went. Her parents loved Shoto; the already treated him better than either of their biological children. They were hesitant at first, hateful on their worst days. While they generaly were distrustful of heros, the L/n’s were known to despise Endeavor.

That said, it took two visits to her house for Y/n’s parents to adore Shoto, their opinions of him completely switched when they learned of the mutual hatred the tree of them held towards his father. It was a cute family bonding moment, one Y/n can’t help but wish she caught on camera. Ever since then, Shoto was their favorite child. He was the one who they couldn’t say no to. 

“They said they’re okay with you spending the night in my dorm,”

“Of course they are,” Y/n linked her hands behind his neck and peppered kisses across his face, “they love you. If I get pregnant they know you’ll most likely propose, and that’s what they want more than anything else.”

He hummed in a light hearted response, nuzzling closer to her and kissing her quickly. “Are you still freezing, love?”

“Trust me,” she moved her lips against his again, losing herself in his heat in his scent, “I’m far from it.”

-------------------------------------------------

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No Place Like Home

bnha Warning: Angsty, kinda gory? Happy ending Requested By: @wolffamilygang Request/ Prompt:  Can I request an Aizawa x quirkless female daughter reader? Like the reader have been in the army and helped across the world? And then something happens making her lose her right arm, but it was replaced with a metal arm kind like Bucky from Avengers. And she comes home after years and surprises her dad at school and he’s crying and just so happy to see her again? 

The gentle humming of the train's motor rung through the carts, as Y/n leaned her head back against the vibrating walls. While her eyes were closed, she could feel the looks people were giving her. 

It was always a mixture- depending on where she was people could either be thankful and polite, or they could be disgusted by her. It hurt, it does hurt, but she has grown stronger, and she knows better than to let it get to her.

After a little more than four years, she was granted FEL, or Family Emergency Leave. When she finally heard about the attack, she was worried that it would be too late. Y/n was used to her father's calls, emails, and video chat’s, and it shocked her when they didn’t come in; but she figured it was just because the school year was in full swing, and he was busy. She can still remember when she was told what happened. 

--------

She and the platoon she was acting as Platoon Sergeant over had just gotten back to base after facing one of the worst days of their lives. It was rough, and they were all tired. Y/n had headed straight to her tent, and she sighed at her makeshift work desk- they had lost great soldiers and close friends that day. 

She doesn’t have to try too hard to see her Commanding Officer standing outside of her corners. It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to sit together after a rough day, they often needed the other to bounce back. Y/n knew the letters of condolences had piled high that day, and she would need her friend there for her.

“Permission to enter, Sergeant Aizawa?” 

“Permission granted, Commanding Officer,” she sighed and shifted over to the edge of her bed.

Aaron had been Y/n’s saving grace throughout her four years. They had met during her basic combat training, while he was on stand-by with the rest of his platoon. 

They were almost nothing alike, but that’s why they got along so well. Still, it wasn’t hard to see just how much they relied on each other. That’s why his silence was so suspicious when he entered, he was always there to make her feel better, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile.

“Aaron,” she shifted on her blankets, growing awkward with the uncharacteristically quiet room, “are you okay?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” he had sighed and scratched his neck. He can remember the conversations spent at two, three, four am, when they talked about their families- what they had going on at home.

Bak in japan, everyone had such high expectations for her. She was the daughter of an A-tier hero, and she was supposed to live up to that legacy. And then, she didn’t have a quirk. As much as she tried to not let it show, it hurt too much, knowing that she would never be the kind of hero her father was.

So, she joined the army. It had evolved a lot since quirks were developed, but apparently, it was still a quirkless-dominated field. While it shocked her that a lot of her fellow soldiers had no quirks, it was a great comfort. Other countries seemed to have the same diversity, so it was never a heavily weighted difference, with the exception of what had happened earlier that day.

But being in the army, going through the ranks, it was an amazing feat of satisfaction, and Y/n loved every second of it. No one she met had heard of her father, no one could judge her, no one was superior in anything other than rank.

It took less than two months for Y/n to grow completely addicted to her new life. The adrenaline, the rush, it was a high that she never experienced before, and she was hooked. 

In two years, tragedy struck. The platoon she belonged to was faced against a Q-soldier army. Meaning that this fight was weighted against them. One of the quirk holders was a man who was deranged, in every sense of the word. His quirk presented itself as an emitter quirk, where he produced an aroma that incapacitated the enemy, but in reality, it was much darker. 

He had approached her first, as she laid on the ground unable to move, but still very conscious. He stalked toward her like a wolf that had blood dripping from its mouth. As he crouched down next to her fallen body, he grabbed her arm and the entire platoon heard her scream, as it was torn from her body.

They had barely made it out that day with most of their soldiers, one of their own Q-soldiers had shown up, and they were able to clear the way for the group to escape.

Y/n had been carried away by her Commanding Officer, who she knew as CO Kelly. Later on, after being whisked away by the medical practitioners in her base, she learned to mourn the loss of her limb. It was bittersweet, as her metal arm gave her many abilities, but with it came insecurities. 

She had been crying herself to sleep for a week until her Commanding officer came in to comfort her. He stayed by her until she had dealt with the trauma as well as she could have, and she even started to accept the foreign material. During those times, the two grew closer, until Commanding Officer Kelly was just Aaron, the black-haired, blue-eyed boy who whispered his hopes and dreams t her in the dead of night.

After the tragedy, she bounced back and quickly rose through the ranks thanks to the metal attached to her, which made her stand out among her peers. It wasn’t long until she and Aaron Kelly were working closely together, he as Commanding Officer, and her as Staff Sergeant. 

They knew almost everything about each other, it was important to have something to hold onto out here, it’s easy to get lost in the fighting, in the blood. If you weren’t careful, you’d lose yourself- everyone had seen it happen before. That’s probably why they never let the other stray too far from their sides.

Aaron had sat next to Y/n on her bed, and his breaths were uneven and forced. It was worrying to see her friend so stressed, so Y/n reached out, and she placed a hand on his arm- only to feel exactly how flexed and stressed he was.

“You can tell me anything you know, I’ll always be here for you,” She said, trying to ease his anxiety.

“It’s not about me,” his eyes darted around the room, never staying in one place for too long, “It’s about your dad.”

---------------

Y/n would have usually blushed, as she remembered how she had sobbed all over her best friend; but her concern for her father kept her from something that frivolous. Her father, the unbreakable hero, had been hurt so bad that they were letting her go to him. It was scary, and she only hoped she would make it there in time.

The stares on her had lightened up by the smallest bit, but she had to crack her eyes open to pinpoint where the glare was coming from that held her by its death-grip. 

She looked around until she spotted a green-haired boy sitting across from her. He blushed hard and looked down when he realized he had been caught staring.  

“I-i I’m so sorry! I swear I wasn’t, I didn’t mean, I know I was, I’m so sorry!” He rushed through his words, tripping over them as they fell off his tongue.

Y/n raised an eyebrow at the young boy, and she couldn’t stop the laugh that came out as he tried to explain himself. “So, what was it?”

“Huh?” He stopped and looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

“That had you staring,” she explained, “Was it the uniform, gender in the uniform, or the metal arm?” She asked, moving her fingers up and down after referencing her arm.

“Huh, none of them I don’t think,”

“Oh? Is there something I forgot about?”

“Well,” he was scratching the back of his neck and blushing, “I was just wondering what cool quirk you have if you’re in the military...”

Y/n has absolutely nothing to say to that. Should she be flattered? Upset? Should it bother her that she’s back in a place where that’s all people worry about? Should she be overjoyed that she’s proven herself through the uniform?

She noticed that he had tried to phrase his response as a question, and he seemed to have a notebook open to a blank page, ready to write.

“Sorry to burst your bubble kid,” she sighed and looked at him, “but I don’t have a quirk.”

This boy’s face lit up when she said that, and it was a total 180 from how she thought he would react.

“You can join the military if your quirkless?” He asked with a bright, shining smile and eyes full of hope.

“Of course you can. Why, do you not have a quirk?”

“No, I don’t! Err- rather I didn’t until recently,” he awkwardly tugged at his shirt.

She looked at him, making sure she didn’t misjudge his age. “You’re quite the late-bloomer huh?” She commented, deciding he couldn’t be younger than in his last year of middle school, but he was most likely a highschooler by now.

He nodded in response, but he looked like he had a question.

“What’s up now, kid?” she asked, sighing at how much time she had left on the train.

“It’s just... is your arm why you got discharged?”

Y/n eyes snapped up to him, and her glare was enough to make him rigid in his seat. “I’m not discharged, I’m visiting family,”

Her glare froze him in his seat, and it was almost like he couldn’t more. Only after her eyes had moved away from him had he released his breath and calmed down.

“Sorry ma’am..” he whispered and looked down.

“Hey kid, I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” she said, honestly upset at herself for letting that happen, “I’m just really stressed right now, but you didn’t deserve that.”

He seemed to perk up at her apology, and it was almost like the whole situation just rolled off of him. “Don’t worry about it!”

“Oh, it looks like my stop is coming up,” Y/n checked her watch, and she stood up to grab her duffle bag of necessities that was stored overhead. 

“Huh, mine too!” He said, swinging his bag over his shoulders.

“You’re what, sixteen?”

“Uh, yeah, I am,”

“And it’s Tuesday, so you should be going to school right now, right?” She asked, hoping this highschool student was maybe of a rival school and could point her in the right direction to get to UA.

“Yup! Why do you ask?” They both walked off the train, and he walked alongside her keeping pace.

“I’m on my way to U.A. academy, do you know how to get there?” Y/n grabbed her phone out of her duffle bag, and she checked her notifications for any messages about her father- nothing was there. 

To say she was worried was an understatement, but no news is good news, right? She hadn’t gotten a call from the doctors or her uncle, so he wasn’t dead, or would they just not tell her?

“Huh?” He tilted his head to the side as he walked, struggling to walk with her, “Yeah, that’s where I’m going now,”

“Great!” Y/n smiled at him. This coincidence would make her life so much easier.

“We’ll be there in like, three minutes. Class starts in fifteen, so I’ll probably be able to walk you to wherever you need to go before homeroom starts,”

“Thank you so much- wait, what’s your name?” She stopped walking, recoiling for a second.

“Oh! I thought I already told you?” he thought back, trying to remember if he had or not, “Eh, not like it really matters! My name is Midoriya Izuku! Nice to meet you!”

“Hi Midoriya, people in my squadron usually call me Sergeant Y/N- but you can just call me Y/n,”

---------------------------------

“Thank you again, so much for helping me Midoriya, I would have been lost without you,” she said, smiling at the young boy who had guided her to the nurse’s office. If she knew anything, it was that her father was much too stubborn to go to the actual hospital, claiming it was ‘irrational to spend the money’, which- while it has some merit- proves the point that people without quirks are put at a disadvantage.

“Anytime, Ms. Y/n! It really was no big deal,” he mumbled and scratched the back of his neck, “I should really get back to class now, but it was nice meeting you!”

“Bye, Midoriya,” She said, before opening the door to be greeted by a friendly face.

“Do I need a stronger prescription, or is that little baby Y/n?” An aged voice that had no fragility to it called out, as the woman looked up from her computer.

“Hey Shuzenji, it’s been too long,” Y/n said, leaning down so she could wrap her arms around the shorter woman. 

“Last time I saw you, you didn’t have all this muscle, your hair’s different too,” She commented, stepping back to fully take in the sudden appearance. “How’s your father? I assume I’m not the first person you’ve visited,” she asked, sitting back down.

“My father?” She pauses and looks around the room, “he’s not here?” Where is he? Is he at the hospital? Home? Is he worse, better? Is he in the hospital? What happened?

“You know Shouta,” She complained and went back to typing on her laptop, “He won't stay away from his students a moment longer than he needs to. Though, I assume he won’t need to be so dependant on them know that the real you is here,”

“Real me?”

“Oh love-bug, your dad loves his students, but it’s my personal theory that he holds so tightly onto them; because he can’t hold on to you,” she said, looking back up into Y/n’s Y/E/C eyes. 

“He’s teaching already!? He can’t be fully healed yet!” Y/n was well aware of quirks limits, and there was no way even Emergency Girl could have healed all of her father's wounds. 

“You’re right, he’s teaching- but he can't use his quirk. I have him all bandaged up,”

“Thank you Shuzenji, I really missed you,” Y/n turned and started to walk out of the office. 

“Oh, and lady-bird? I love you, welcome home,”

“Thank you,”

--------------------------------------

Y/n had been staring at the door handle of classroom 1-A for the past ten minutes, and every time she thinks she should open the door, she wonders if it would be better if she just waited until lunch break. But, it was only 11:12, and lunch is held at 12:45, so she would be standing there for well over an hour. 

Should she go to visit other people? Would that be rude? Y/n came to see her father, but if he was busy then there shouldn’t be anything wrong with waiting as to not interrupt him. 

A sudden ruckus from inside snapped Y/n out of her trance, and she grabbed the handle with her forever cold hand. What would he think when he saw it? How would he react?

She knew that, if a fight broke out, her father couldn’t do much to calm the students, but she had always been particularly good at defusing situations. She swung the door open, but with all of her military training, it came as no surprise that she made no sounds.

Inside the class, she saw a blonde boy standing with his palms up, and tiny bombs were coming out of them. He was yelling at a boy with familiar un-ruley green hair. And there, standing at the podium looking very frustrated, was her dad. He hated not being able to do anything- not being able to protect is students, and it really showed.

“Shut up and sit down,” Y/n snapped, like a dog biting viciously while threatened. As soon as the angry boy saw her glare, he stopped talking and sat in his seat, not muttering another word.

“Y/n,” Aizawa’s raspy voice breathed out, and he all but lunged himself at her. He collapsed against her, and his face was buried in her shoulder. Sobs are freely escaping him, and his body shakes every time, as all of his pent-up emotion is released in bursts of tears.

“I missed you so much,” he says, his voice is slightly higher than usual, and Y/n wraps her arms around him, lightly rubbing up and down his back.

“I missed you too dad,” She said lightly, afraid anything louder might break him.

He pulled away, and he put a hand against her cheek. “My princess, you're home,”

Y/n smiled and started to cry, as she sunk her face into her dad’s hands. “I heard you got yourself in trouble. You should know better, old man,”

they both laughed, and they both cried, and the entire class was very freaking confused.

They pulled back from their hug, and Shouta grabbed a hold of his daughter’s hands. He was planning on saying something cliche, like ‘they’re rougher,’ or, ‘they’re still so small,’ but instead, as his fleshy hands met the clod counterpart, he couldn’t catch himself before asking, “What happened to you?”

“I fought the bad guys,” Y/n said, quoting her dad- any time he would stumble into the house, at three in the morning, a younger, terrified Y/n would ask him what happened. And he, in his bruised and bloody state would say the same phrase every time.

“Did you beat them?”

“Of course,” she responded, remembering this conversation with roles reversed. It was a strange circle of life- and she wasn’t sure if it was something she enjoyed or not. 

“You’re perfect, and I’m so proud of you,” he said, breaking down into tears again.

They both sobbed, and their shoulders shook slightly less violently this time.

A loud man with large hair had caught wind of the news, and he was quick to run through the halls, “Heeeeeeyyyyyyy! I heard the UA pro-de-jay is back home!” The birdlike loud mouth yelled, sliding a bit passed the door.

“I’m here checking on dad, but yeah- I’m home Uncle Mic,”

Aizawa held her in another hug, “You’re home,”

“Sooooo I guess it’s actually Sargeant Aizawa then,”

When Time Doesn’t Stop The Pain

Fandom: Bnha Mha Parings: Shoto Todoroki x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Momo Yaoyarozu Rating: 14+ Warnings: Alcohol, unrequited romance, angst Words: .5k81 A/N: This is just a short scene I can’t get out of my head. It may become a series depending on the reaction? Also yes I know i’m posting a lot of angst rn leave me alone 🤣 

        Shoto clenched his eyes shut, his left hand gripping the phone to his ear and his right desperately clutching his clean white dress shirt, bunching up the fabric over his heart. 

“Who do you think you are Todoroki?” Y/n’s drunk voice slurred over the phone. “What gives you the right to- to- to-” she hiccups and starts to sob. 

“I’m sorry Y/n/n,” His voice is strained and painful, his heart breaking into pieces.

“How could you?”

It’s been five months since it happened- Since Shoto asked Momo to go on a date with him. “I didn’t know,” he whispered, leaning over his marble bathroom sink as tears stated to fall from his closed eyes, “I didn’t know.”

Five months and still, Y/n calls him whenever she’s drunk. Five months and she still cries, still screams, still destroys herself.

“...Y/n?”

The sudden silence that fell over the line which was usually filled with sobs and shouts was more alarming than anything she could have said.

“Was it,” she paused, “am I really that hard to love?” 

Her voice was the most sober he’d heard since their fight- the clarity in her tone shook him to his core. The wobble in her voice broke his heart.

“No,” he cried, before coughing to strengthen his voice, “No it wasn’t you. I just-” he shook his head at the memories, “I just didn’t know.”

There was another pause of silence, “How could you not know?”

Todoroki had been asking himself that very same thing for five months. How could he not know? She’d loved him since freshman year- his Y/n loved him for six years and he couldn’t tell. 

She’d been so open about her emotions, so caring and supporting with everything he did, and he just... didn’t realize it. 

He looked up, glaring at his disheveled appearance in the mirror. “I was an idiot.”

Shoto Todoroki was in love with Y/n Y/l/n for all of high school, but when college came around he gave up on the idea. She was bound for greatness, she deserved someone who suited her temperament, not a friend from childhood that couldn’t match her newly founded maturity.

“I’m sorry,”

Y/n’s voice was soft and sad, her words bounced around in her chest before she let them escape from her lips- a newly found emptiness followed. She knew what she had to do. “Y/n-”

“Goodbye.”

For the first time, she was the one to end the phone call. 

In the end, Shoto never got another call from his childhood bestfriend. In fact, he heard nothing about her until he saw the photo on his Facebook UA alumni feed when he was sitting in his office months later.

Y/l/n Y/n raises to Koreas top 3 hero list after only one year- is this foreign hero Korea’s new heroic legacy?

Mina had shared it- showing that she hadn’t cut off everyone, maybe only him. He looked at the photo along with it- two side by side. One had Y/n in her hero uniform after a successful mission, caring for one of the injured children. The picture on the right had her in a beautiful dress, receiving an award from the head of the Korean Hero Association. 

The familiar pain in his chest welled up again- his eyes shut and he clenched the mahogany desk. Why does it still hurt so much? She’s happy, Y/n’s happy- He looked at the photo of him and Momo that sat on his desk- but was he?