They Are Asking A Man To Ignore The Hundreds Of Life He Can Save In The Blink Of An Eye.

They are asking a man to ignore the hundreds of life he can save in the blink of an eye.

@yiqiannian​ asked:

She fidgets nervously, her long ebony hair pulled neatly into a braid down her back with her bangs covering most of her eyes. Thankful that Midoriya is the one that noticed her, he smiles gently at her before turning his head. “Todoroki-kun! Aikawa-chan is here to see you!”

Mineta and Kaminari are making surprised exclamations while Iida and Uraraka are trying to calm their classmates. Ashido is gushing despite their efforts as the petite girl waits for his arrival.

When he does, Utau gives him a small smile as Midoriya had the mind to close the door behind them for privacy so she could hand him a small and neatly wrapped bento box in a baby blue handkerchief with simplistic white seashell patterns.

     Still copying notes over to a more organized notebook, Shouto hasn’t looked up since Aizawa left them to their study time. Noise drowned out as he focused on his work, despite the inevitable classmate trying to hold a conversation with him. Each movement of his hand is slow and methodical, careful of the bandages and minor burns on his palms from their training earlier. It hadn’t been bad enough to go to the infirmary, just another pain to tolerate.

     Midoriya’s voice seems to be just the right pitch to cut through the din of the classroom, mismatched eyes finally tearing away from his work toward his surroundings. Aikawa-chan? Had he promised to meet her and forgot? No, he definitely would have remembered that. Maybe he’d left something in the nurse’s office the last time she’d healed him. That had to be it.

     Packing away his belongings, Shouto doesn’t notice that all eyes are on him as he makes his way to the door. Ignoring their pervasive questions, he’s glad when his friend shuts the door behind him, if only for the quiet it brings.

     “Did I leave something in the clinic again?” He begins, a simple question she could answer silently. He never liked to pry, but he did figure out rather quickly that she was mute or at least didn’t like talking. Which was fine, he didn’t really like to either, or rather, he didn’t know how to speak to others in the same way everyone else did.

     The proffered lunchbox was clearly not his, but seemed to fit her style, so it was safe to assume it was her own. Had she… made a lunch? She had to know about LunchRush, but… she’d put so much effort into making one of her own and was offering it to him? He can’t be sure what it means, but he supposes the thought is what counts. Even a mystery thought.

     “For me?” Taking the bento, he holds it with great care, “We could share it. I’d hate for you to give up your lunch on my account.”

𝕋𝔸𝕂𝔼ℍ𝕀𝕂𝕆 [ homra-no-artemis. ]

          her sigh is strong enough that her entire body seems to fold as air leaves the lungs which had held it. since hearing the telltale beats of his wings she’d stilled / near held her breath where she sat, in the partial nightborn shadow of a guardwall of the rooftop. even so, his eyes are sharp … it would have been little more than luck if he’d passed over her.

          takehiko can tell his intent is to ruffle her, and it’s with some small amount of loathing that she acknowledges he succeeds at that. ( pesky… ) all the same, she’ll take … whatever this is … over his telling her ‘beat it’, as he should be doing for all intents and purposes. if not outright arresting her.

          “…just ‘cause you called me ‘-tan’, absolutely not.” he was like a damn elementary schooler. it goes without saying she would have been quick to turn down the invitation even so. “i’m sittin’ up here to keep away from people, in case that wasn’t clear…. a theater is the last place i wanna be.”

        There’s a slowly growing smirk drawing across his features when she sighs. He turns his gaze toward her, but remains focused on where he’s perched on the railing. Amber irises narrow, sharpening as he watches how her face scrunches in displeasure. However little it is that it does, he can tell he’s succeeded with his nickname. And Hawks takes pleasure in seeing her feathers get ruffled. Ha, get it? Feathers?

        Anyway, he digresses.

        ❝Aw, come on, Takehiko,❞ Hawks says, tilting his head ever so slightly from where he stands crouched on the railing. He drops the honorific altogether, wondering if the next one he says would make her lose her “calm, cool, and collected” look she has for herself. Leaning his chin into the palm of his hand while the other rested against his knee, he angles his face to her. ❝Would it help to tell you it’s a private showing? If you’re not doing anything anyway, we should. And I wanna hang out with my favorite vigilante.❞

Contemplates my type. Looks away from my type. 😔

idk wtf I’m doing with icons anymore. how do people do icons???

“If you’ve got wings, you should stretch them out and fly. There’s no need for you to be confined to the ground.”