["Congratulations! Today Is Your Day. You're Off To Great Places! You're Off And Away!"

*The Wreckage He Left*

He came with swagger, full of might,

A showman draped in blinding light.

Promises spun like a carnival wheel,

But behind the glow was cold, hard steel.

He whispered rage to hollow souls,

Poured gasoline in hidden bowls,

Igniting fears, fanning hate—

Turning hearts to a darker state.

He crushed the weak with careless words,

Let greed take flight like hungry birds.

Ignored the pleas of those in pain,

Left them stranded in the rain.

Children torn from open arms,

Families shattered, dreams uncharmed,

He built his walls and watched them cry—

A border crossed by silent sighs.

He mocked the earth, dismissed its plea,

Laughed off its fires, its rising seas.

Turned away from our dying lands,

While forests burned beneath his hands.

And justice, too, he pulled apart,

Broke its spine, unbound its heart.

Bent laws to suit his shifting game,

And turned our values into shame.

Now left behind, a fractured place,

With wounds that time must now erase.

A nation scarred, but still we stand,

To rebuild, renew, with steadier hands.

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

Things will get better, they have to. They can't stay bad forever, right?

The American dream... is literally a dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.

Here's just a little sneak peek at the fun and amazing work of art that is called...

Airwaves Unscripted (PapaMic) by Chimera_Regarion on WP!

It's crack and it's beautiful and you should definitely go read it right this second- ANYWAY on to it...

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(Izuku Midoriya's POV)

"-and I swear, if I see one more hero posting a 'thoughts and prayers' tweet after doing jack shit to fix the problem, I'm gonna lose my mind." I say, drumming my fingers against the desk.

"Oh-ho, careful, Zuzu!" Dad snickers. "You're gonna make all the corporate heroes cry into their brand sponsorships!"

"Oh no, whatever shall they do? Maybe wipe their tears with the stacks of cash they made off merchandise while ignoring the civilians suffering right outside their shiny-ass agencies?*" I lean into the mic, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just a kid, what do I know?"

"You know too much," Dad sighs dramatically. "Society's golden boy, how dare you think critically?"

"I know, I should be grateful!" I throw a hand up. "Look at me, a student at U.A., the peak of all human existence, training under heroes who definitely, absolutely, 100% never screw up or fail anyone! Right, Dad?"

Dad snorts, trying to hold in his laughter. "Oh, absolutely. Heroes are always perfect, and the system has zero flaws."

"Exactly!" I gesture wildly. "*Clearly, those people who get ignored, overlooked, or outright abandoned just didn't try hard enough. If they wanted help, they should've been conveniently located near a hero who was having a good day!"

Dad claps his hands. "And let's not forget the golden rule: If you're not 'hero material, then society's just not built for you! That's your fault, obviously!"

"Mmm, yes, let's talk about that!" I tap the mic. "my new brother, who totally doesn't hate my guts-hi, by the way! spent his entire childhood being told he's villainous because his quirk is scary. Meanwhile, I-quirkless, useless, disposable-got the same treatment but for a different reason. Because society loves picking favorites.*"

Dad hums. "It's almost like... the system is designed to benefit a select few while leaving the rest to rot?*"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, careful now, Dad." I gasp. "That almost sounded like criticism! We can't have that! You're a pro hero! What if people start thinking for themselves?!"

"Perish the thought!"

"Exactly!" I slam my hands down. "Heroes are the good guys, and if you dare question anything about them, you must be anti-hero or pro-villain! Those are the only two options, right?"

Dad dramatically wipes a fake tear. "It's so simple when you put it like that, Zuzu."

"I try." I smirk. "Wouldn't wanna burden people with nuance or critical thinking. That's dangerous, you know."

"Super dangerous."

We both pause. The silence lingers for a second, stretching just long enough to be uncomfortable.

Because it's not really a joke.

We mean every word.

"Anyway," I shake my head, breaking the moment. "Let's move on before we accidentally wake up the morality police. What's next?"

Dad glances at his notes. "Ooooh, this one's fun! 'Heroes with their own energy drinks-a discussion on capitalism, branding, and selling out!"

I groan. "Oh, kill me now."

Dad cackles. "Buckle up, partner, it's gonna be a wild ride!"

****************************************************

... Please go read it, it's crack and I'm living for it

OMG this masterpiece! Chef's kiss ❤️‍🔥

Your Biggest Fan: Villian/Yandere Izuku

You Ruined His Plan.

No one was supposed to CARE. They NEVER care. NEVER ask questions. They look, at the red shoes, the note, then shrug it all off. Just another statistic. One more gone, of an already "dying breed".

The Quirkless had been a "dying breed" for a while now.

He bet they didn't even know where that phase came from. It was WAR propaganda. Quirkless population numbers were supposed to level out a decade ago, according to estimates. But noooo! They kept DROPPING!

Dropping, Dropping, DROPPING!

Like notebooks and little boys off roof tops.

No Heroes coming to save them. Smiles for everyone ELSE. Just burns and bad grades they didn't earn, ruined lunches and funeral flowers on desks. Kicking and kicking and PUNCHS until they break! Until they fight back. Until THEY are the problem. THEY are the monsters!

Dreams destroyed and online friends who go silent.

Funerals. Mothers who cry but don't protect you.

ANGER and where are the HEROES?

Here... apparently.

She is... she is standing HERE. Arms crossed. Mouth in a furious line as she listens to the principal spew his excuses. She does not look like she believes a single one. Does not look sympathetic or dismissive in the least.

The disgusting trash around her isn't used to it. Are slowly beginning to sweat. Panic. It is beginning to dawn on them... that there could be CONSEQUENCES for their actions. Their criminal neglect and cruel allowances.

She looks disgusted. Furious. And... when she glances at the supposed last words of Hanako-chan? Utterly heartbroken. She stands, feet planted, shoulders back, as she argues and pulls rank. Threatening to ARREST even the police officers THEMSELVES unless they DO THEIR JOBS.

As is her RIGHT. Because this is not JUSTICE. Nor Vengance. But can bring, at least, closure to the soul of a little girl wronged. Prevent others from harm. And she stands as a shield against that harm. It is her JOB, her DUTY, and so help her, if she must hunt each and every one of them down and HAND DELIVER them to a cell? She WILL.

She stands there, in the cold afternoon light, like...

Like A Hero!

He has to slap both his hands over his mouth. To stop his dreadful muttering habit from escaping again. He... he hasn't found anything INTERESTING enough to mutter about in so LONG. Gotten out of the habit of controlling it. His control is shot. And... and OH~!

Ever since Kacc-... Since All Mi... THEM. He hasn't... hasn't BELIEVED in Heros like he used too. He WANTED too! He did! But...? It was like it just... died inside him. Slowly. Painfully. Screaming.

It HURT.

It hurt so, so much. Everything was angry and grey and TERRIBLE. B...But? But! BUT NOW? It's like a giddy spark of light has struck a match inside the empty cavern inside him, lighting up the massive caves where his belief once lived. I..It's so small and fragile. So WARM.

He scrambles back. Hands pressed to his mouth, eyes shut tight, uncaring of the rough brick he's pressed too as he slides to the wet ground. It scrapes him up. But what's a few more scrapes amongst the rest? He's always hurt. It's his life. It's ALL their lives.

He breathes. Savors the fragile warmth in his chest.

"Hey, are you okay?" That voice. No, no it can't be... his eyes shoot open. Startled he looks up. Directly... into... a.. mask.. "You're looking pretty banged up. My Quirk doesn't have many medical uses, so unless you think you've cracked a bone or something, I hope you're good with band-aids. Fair warning though. All the Froppy one's are already gone. Kid's LOVE frogs."

It IS. His Hero. THE Hero. She must have finished up. Noticed him somehow. Sloppy...

Ah!

Already kneeling, she gently takes his hand. Is already pulling out a medical kit from her thigh pouch. He spots "good job!" Stickers and a few lollipops. He... he has QUESTIONS. For the first time in YEARS. Who is she? What school did she go too? What Quirk does she have? Where does she work out off?

Why did she CARE?

Is it a one off? Would she care AGAIN? Her hands are firm but gentle. She keeps him "distracted". Asking him inane questions to take his mind off his pain. Kind. So KIND~! He manages to get her Hero name before she goes. Sends her off with a smile that hurts his face. Reminds him how many years it's BEEN since he's truely grinned.

He races home. Fingers flying on his phone. His lieutenant can deal with Hanako. Get her settled with her new family. He... he NEEDS too... TOO-!

He SLAMS his shoebox of an apartment open, ignoring the bellowed demands and insults of the filth that live around him. It's only muscle memory that has him locking the dozen locks behind him, to keep out the scum that would attempt to prey upon him.

He... he NEEDS-!

Where?!

There!!!

His "work" laptop. So bleeding edge I-island will be cursing their own bigotry for centuries. If only out of GREED. They don't know what they've lost by turning down those engineers and applicants. But Izuku does. He collects them ALL.

And now it pays off once again.

It take less then a moment. Easier then breathing. And he has EVERYTHING.

Her arrests records. Her case load. Her school records and medical files. Social media. Current audio book. Hero ranking, media presence, the chatter about Her online. EVERYTHING.

It's... it's beautiful.

A "troublemaker" who wouldn't shut up about the injustice she saw around her. Wouldn't stand for it. Got into fights to protect the weak and defenseless. Helped where she could. It put her on the wrong side of the narrative. When she wouldn't shut up about how everything WASN'T fine and what those in power were doing was WRONG.

She was a child, they were not. She HAD the option to shut up and pick her own future over the well being of those around her.

She chose to be a HERO instead.

Like... Like HIM. She was robbed of her DREAM. Of going to UA. The future she wanted, she fought for, needed like AIR.

But... but Aaah~♡ she was so COOL! Didn't give up! She sued. Made a RACKET. And when it got her record wiped but not her chance to enter any Japanese Hero school reinstated? She took the winnings from her lawsuit, her parents reluctant consent, and WENT ABROAD.

Came BACK with a hero license that the Japanese government had to recognize as per international accords. Let her take the final test HERE.

They BURIED her in the rankings. Must HATE her. A real hero, come to SHAME THEM for all they've become~♡ Or, well, HE thinks she will. How can she NOT? When she is so much BETTER?

He needs everything. Bedspread, pillows, posters, sweaters, slippers, MERCH! There's not enough. He should commission some. Where are his notebooks? Ah, no. He needs a NEW one! A better notebook! Oh! Oh! He could COMMISSION a notebook! Oh that's PERFECT!

He may have just met her today?

But he can already TELL~ He's gonna be her NUMBER 1 fan!

*Echoes of the End*

The earth once sang in hues of green,

Now silenced by the scars unseen.

The forests fall, the deserts grow,

As endless winds of sorrow blow.

The air is thick with silent cries,

While fading suns paint fractured skies.

The oceans choke on plastic breath,

And creatures flee from certain death.

Mountains crumble, rivers dry,

As we stand still and wonder why.

A fleeting moment, lost in time,

The rhythm of the world’s last rhyme.

We’ve sown the seeds, now bear the cost,

As futures fade and dreams are lost.

A dying world, a dying call,

Can we still rise before we fall?

A spark ignites, a quiet flame,

It whispers first, then calls a name.

Through shadows deep, through silence thick,

It stirs the soul, it makes hearts quick.

The winds of change begin to blow,

A truth once buried starts to grow.

The old ways crack, the walls decay,

As voices rise and feet give way.

The roar of hope, the cry of pain,

A thunderclap, a driving rain.

Revolution calls with steady hand,

To tear apart, to take a stand.

The ground will tremble, hearts will race,

As power shifts, as hearts embrace.

The chains once held will break and fall,

And freedom’s light will pierce it all.

But revolution, fierce and wild,

Is never tame, nor always mild.

It burns the past, but leaves behind,

A future shaped by all mankind.

So when the drums of change are heard,

Let courage rise, let voices stir.

For revolution, bold and true,

Is born from hope and what we choose.

"Areseta and Serenata- Goddess of War and Honor standing beside her wife, the Goddess of Peace. A reminder that we wage war for the hope of a longer peace; that we inflict violence so that we might have more peace. two sides of the same coin, that coin is something that is required to even think about joining the Warriors Guild."

Read this somewhere, forgot where, but I'm sure the internet knows and will be willing to tell

Mary's boy:

Did Mary scream when she held the body of a boy; everyone's but hers? At the blood on his crown, did she lick her fingers and wipe it clean? Smooth back his hair like she did when he was just a babe? Wash the red from his feet, never drank wine again. Pulled at the nails in his tender hands until hers were raw. Maybe she spit and yelled and cried at anyone who came too close to her boy gone limp and blue. Even the believers turned away. They didn't love her boy. His messy hair and soft eyes, his gentle hands, whispered voice. The way he hid in the river and spoke to the fish like old friends. Came home with dirty feet and flushed cheeks. Her running, dancing, singing boy. They didn't love her boy. They loved God's son. Not Mary's boy.

We will not be silenced.

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

They say it’s freedom, yet chains grow tight,

Taking back each hard-won right.

The voices strong, the voices clear,

Now met with walls and weighted fear.

What was once fought, now fades away,

A loss that deepens day by day.

Choice is shadowed, rights confined,

A quiet theft from heart and mind.

Hands that held the power near,

Now grasp at dreams once bright, once clear.

And laws slip through like poison threads,

Tearing lives where courage bled.

Women’s voices, fierce and bold,

Echo stories centuries old.

The battles waged, the wounds endured,

Are brushed aside, their truths obscured.

Yet still, they rise, they push, they fight,

In darkened halls, they burn for light.

For rights may bend, but roots run deep,

A fire that law cannot keep.

And though the world may silence now,

The spark remains—a solemn vow.

For every right that’s torn away,

Will find its strength in fierce array.

**Beneath the Flag**

O land of promise, bold and bright,

Your stars once blazed a hopeful light,

But shadows fall where dreams decay,

As gilded hopes drift far away.

Skies of blue and fields of green,

Hide truths beneath a painted scene,

Where wealth divides, and justice sways,

And voices fade in endless haze.

Cities hum and highways roar,

Yet many struggle, wanting more;

The streets are paved with stories lost,

And freedom bears a quiet cost.

A land of plenty, yet denied,

Where broken dreams and secrets hide.

...Where hope and hardship still collide.

......Where shadows linger, hope entwined.

Where hands reach out but come back bare,

And promises hang in the air,

A country torn, a dream betrayed,

As weary hearts still hope for aid.