So, You Know The Official Arts Of Bsd Characters Holding Their Wan Version?

Chapter One

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Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

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The first thing you remember are Nezu’s words."You are special.” He had whispered it one night as he tucked you in, his small, warm paw brushing against your cheek. Nezu had always told you the story of how he found you—an infant left at the gates of U.A., wrapped in midnight-colored silk, staring up at him with eyes too knowing for a child."You came like a blessing I didn’t deserve."

He had raised you with unwavering care, but even as he doted on you, he never shielded you from the truth."But with being special comes great danger."His small claws had pushed your bangs back as he kissed your forehead. "Remember, little light, while you shine, you will inspire others."

You weren’t like the other children. You developed your quirk faster than anyone had expected. And where you walked, destruction followed. Small flames flickered across your palms, a deep, unnatural blue that earned the name hellfire. It didn’t just burn—it consumed.

And so, Nezu made sure you were trained by the best before you could even ride a bike. You grew up surrounded by Pro Heroes, raised on the battlefield before you ever stepped into a classroom. Endeavour took the lead in honing your flames—his brutal, relentless training pushing you past your limits. Even as a child, you could sense the weight he carried, the bitterness in his voice when he told you to do better, be stronger. The burns on your body were proof of his expectations.

But All Might was always there. He was different. Where Endeavor taught you to endure pain, All Might taught you to rise above it. His lessons weren’t just about strength, but about hope, about what it meant to be a hero. About what it meant to be good.

“Remember Young one, only you will decide if you either become good or destroy others”

You always liked All might, even now as you helped him more and more. As his powers took a toll on his body and sometimes couldn’t do the basic things, you were there like a shadow. Besides Nezu, he was like a father to you. And that’s why when he brought the news with Nezu it felt like a dad’s telling his daughter bad news.

“You will enrol in our school, starting tomorrow.” Nezu had stated, the small blue flame in your hand suddenly dying out fast as you slammed your hand on the table. “Why?! I know the rules of the hero society better than anyone!”

“You might know the rules and laws of the society, but you don’t know the society” All mights spoke gently. “In order to become a great hero, you should also connect with other heroes, which you haven’t done since you’ve been homeschooled for 18 years.” He stated in an all matter of fact tone. Nezu nodded his mouse head in agreement. “It will be good for you little light” He hit you with the childhood nickname. He grabbed your hand, his paw as soft as ever as you slumped into your seat. Gently squeezing it two times, a secret code you always had with him.

“You have so much potential, you’ll be in aizawa’s care and he’ll help you as much as what we can do. Trust me, it will be good for you little light..” You sighed, frustrated this was happening but nodded nevertheless. “Okay Nezu..”

“I’ll do it”

~

When the day came around that you had to sit in class, you were extra early. You knew every pro hero that teaches personally, so because you know them you had some small advantages.

Like sipping coffee in the teachers lounge for example.

“My Little babyyyyy” Midnight cooed, holding you close as you made sure you didn’t spill hot coffee onto her. “All grown up and here for me to teach!” You whined and laughed softly. “Nemuriiii let gooo, I’m going to spill all my coffee!”

“Oh please,” Midnight—Nemuri Kayama—dramatically gasped, holding you tighter as if you were a long-lost child. “You think a little coffee is going to stop me from getting my hugs?”

You laughed, half-heartedly trying to wiggle free, careful not to spill the steaming cup in your hand. “Yes, actually! And I swear if you make me drop this, I’m making you make me another one”

Nemuri pouted, finally loosening her grip with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t want my little woven one walking into her first day of class with coffee stains.” She gave you a teasing smirk, ruffling your hair.

You huffed, smoothing it back down. “You act like you didn’t see me every day growing up.”

“Yes, but this is different!” she declared, stepping back and twirling a strand of her hair. “You’re finally a student here. A future hero. And I get to watch you kick all those wannabes’ butts.”

The ‘wannabes’ butts’ midnight is talking about is none other than class 3-A itself. Nezu, being as kind as he is, let you read through the files of each student of the class. The one that stuck out to you the most were two people.

Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou.

All might explained that Midoriya, also known as deku, was his predecessor. As you had watched a few videos that had gone viral off the sport festival, you understood why.

But Bakugou, Bakugou was something else.

You had heard about his explosive power—literally—but reading about him in a file and watching him fight were two entirely different things. His combat style was raw, unrelenting, as if he had something to prove with every move. He didn’t just want to win—he wanted to dominate.

But what caught your attention wasn’t just his strength—it was his drive. Unlike Midoriya, who had a quirk passed down by the world’s greatest hero, Bakugou’s power was his own. Earned. Honed. Sharpened like a blade against his own willpower. He wasn’t fighting just to be a hero—he was fighting to be the best.

And now, you’d be standing beside him, competing against him, proving yourself in the same class as him.

The thought sent a flicker of anticipation down your spine. As you said your goodbye to midnight, you threw away your stuff and walked out the door, onto the 3-A classroom itself.

The hallway buzzed with muffled chatter, the distant echoes of students settling into their classes. But as you stepped into Class 3-A, the noise died instantly. Twenty pairs of eyes snapped to you, scanning, questioning. Some confused, some curious, some wary.

You didn’t wear the standard U.A. uniform—not yet. Your attire was sleek, black with faint silver embroidery, a mix of functionality and elegance. The weight of your presence alone unsettled the room.

Then, of course, he reacted first.

“The hell?” Bakugou’s chair scraped back violently as he stood, his hands already crackling with sparks. His crimson eyes locked onto you like a predator sizing up prey.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snarled, his palm popping with tiny explosions. “You walk in here like you own the place—gotta be real dumb or real strong.” You tilted your head, completely unfazed. “You always greet new people by trying to blow them up?”

“Only when they piss me off.” His palm flared brighter.“And you’re pissing me off.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. A few students tensed—Midoriya’s eyes darted between you and Bakugou, Uraraka looked like she wanted to step in but thought better of it. Even Todoroki’s gaze lingered on you, analyzing.

You smirked. This class might be fun after all.

Before anything could happen a long, grey cloth snapped out of nowhere, wrapping around Bakugou’s wrist, immediately neutralizing his quirk.

“Enough,” Aizawa’s voice came low and sharp as he stepped out of the shadows, hair floating slightly, eyes glowing red. “Bakugou, sit down before I erase you completely.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, ripping his arm free. “Tch. Whatever.” He shot one last glare at you before slumping back into his chair, arms crossed. Aizawa’s tired eyes flickered toward you. “And you—take a seat. Now.”

You met his gaze and, after a beat, nodded. No backtalk, no smart remarks. Just a slow, easy stride toward an empty desk. Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temple. “Great. First day, and we’re already starting like this.” He gave the class a pointed look. “Get used to it. She’s one of you now.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening. You leaned back in your chair, ignoring the questioning stares.

Let them wonder.

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taglist:

@graythecoffeebean

Hii how are you doing? In case you still accept requests (if you dont than you can just ignore this its ok), I saw that rope with pm boss dazai, so I thought that i could ask something similar too. So there is this scenario where pm mafia dazai is in love with this female executive. He has known her for quite a lot of time now. Since he met her, the day when dazai entered the mafia and back at that time, she was a little bit older than him, maybe 3 years or so. Since then, he had a crush on her but wanted to wait until he became older to confess his feelings, but now hes pretty mature and wants to finally do it. His crush is a very cold and bloodykiller, but at the same time lovley and nurturing towards the ones she loves, including dazai. I hope this wasnt an awkward request, and for any grammar mistake i apolagize, english isnt my first lenguage. Other than that, wish you a great day 💜💜💜

request?: yes Summery: The cold, loyal and bloodykiller of the port mafia, gets swayed by the demon prodigy. Genre: fluff

A/N: Aaaa! this was so fun to write thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry if it took a while, I have been busy trying to juggle my life with me starting my new life and school + work as well. But I hope it satisfies your needs and If I made some spelling errors please let me know cause I did try my best- I promise- Anyways enjoy the fanfic!

The Interest In you started a few years ago, some months later after Dazai had Joined the Port mafia. Dazai was talking towards Mori, planning out future attacks as Mori has allowed him too, as part of his training back then.

That’s when you walked in, your stare cold as ice, as your combat boots could be heard clearly. Paperwork in your hand, as Dazai noticed he fell a little quiet when her gaze connected with his figure. “I’ve filled in the rest of my paperwork, Boss.” Your voice was as sharp as a knife, as you looked straight into the eyes of the boss. “Ah, Wonderfull, Y/n, Meet our newest Member of the mafia, The one who I will be lecturing and training, Dazai Osamu.” You gave a nod out of respect, not knowing what he was capable was, or what he was capable of doing. The boss had chose him for a reason, has he not? “Its very nice to meet you, in a shitty place like this, Dazai.” You really did spark up his interest. From that day forward, he was always surrounding you, His antics make you irritated but also enjoying the company. Since your one of the highest executives next to the boss, a lot of people feared you. But he seemed to pay no mind to your position, instead he seemed rather curious about you.

That really made you fond of him, as he and you were inseparable. The mafia wasn’t anything that works in the light, but dazai made your world a little brighter. So, when he indeed got the same position as you did, you were over the moon, as that meant he would be working more together with you.

But of course, you being you, acted cold on it.

“Y/nnnnnnn” Dazai whined as he entered your office, the suppliers you’ve been talking too basically getting startled by his behaviour and immediately bowed down. You on the other hand, just chuckled while looking at him. “Osamu, congrationlation must be in order for getting the executive position, growing up so fast-“ You teased him, which made him chuckle.

“No need to be so formal Y/n, besides I need someone to help me annoy Chuuya! Come onnnnn, it will be fun! You can just let someone else do your work!” 

You sighed and smiled at the boy, laughing a bit. “Alright alright! I’m coming!” He beamed at your answer, as he grabbed your hand, desperately dragging you away, making the both of you guys smile a little.

Those smiles didn’t last for long though.

As years went on, Dazai got promoted to be the next Port mafia boss, after all He slit Mori’s throat with the same staple Mori used on the previous boss. Only you knew better though, as he had told you he sent Mori off, making him start his own orphanage.

You became someone he trusted into this mafia, and together he and you became the most powerful duo of the mafia, besides Him and Chuuya of course.

And That’s where you stand, years later, standing next to your partner and boss, as he scolds yet another group of workers for not doing their job correctly, they might not even be alive by the end of the day, but you never know with dazai. He sighed when the workers stepped out of the room, nodding at one of the guards at the door, as he heard yelling and screaming when the other guard closed the door. Dazai leaned back on his hair and groaned. “I’m paying idiots to do the jobs.” He whined as you just let out a soft chuckle, walking to the little table with paperwork.

“That’s the job Samu.” You teased, as he just softly glared at you, which made you let out a giggle. He looked over at you, signalling you to come closer to him. In curiosity, you did. “You have a nice laugh Y/n.” He complimented you, as his hand sneaked around your waist, making you slightly blush at the contact.

“I know you knew about my..attraction about me Y/n.” His word were flirty, as he pulled you up on his lap. “And by the look of your pretty face, I think you feel the same way.” He teased, as you just rolled your eyes, a soft chuckle escaping from your lips. “So, My question is..”

“Do you like me now?” 

He was close, way to close.

But you didn’t move away, all you did was slowly close the gap between you and him. Your hands holding his face as his arms were around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss began to turn into a steamy one.

“Boss we exposed the bodie-“ One of the guards came in, without warning, and before he knew it, there was a dagger inches away from his face. The color of his face turned white as soon as he saw his life flash before his eyes.

“We were in the middle of something.” You stated Coldly, as you saw him gulp, shaking a bit in his legs, showing your true identity towards him. He yelped and quickly shut the door, the dagger still stuck on the door itself.

Dazai looked at you with a soft chuckle, “well then!”

“Where were we~?”

donate if you can! reblog this!

Help a Family in Need💔

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

Please donate & share: Donation Link

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohamad reunite his family and clear his debt, organized by Adam Bin Ali

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is faci… Adam Bin Ali needs your support for Help Mohamad reunite his family

Chapter Six

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

“This isn’t good.” A god like present closed a small screen, overseeing the situation that has happened the last few days. Small locks of hair floating across their face, as they gently pushed it out of the way, tucking it behind their ear. Suddenly, an Angel that must have been 5 feet shorter than the being before her, quickly came running towards her. 

“Your Majesty!” She spoke in a hastily tone, her breath has quickened as she had been flying as fast as she could. “It’s her! She found out-!” Quick to wip their head, they summoned the one they were talking about. Suddenly, white chains surrounded a screaming woman, as they have trashed around. 

“LET ME GO!” She demanded, her hair getting caught in the chains, burning it off. “YOU SAID SHE WAS DEAD AND MADE IT TO HELL.” She yelled, scratching her knees as she launched herself at the inhuman being, who was looking at her with pity. 

“I didn’t think she was. He hid her well.” They spoke in a monotone voice, pulling up an monitor again, smiling at themselves. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kill them yet, she isn’t human after all.” “YOU MONSTER! THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!!”

The woman spat, as the godly being stomped their foot hard, silencing them. “SHE IS THE DEATH OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. She must be stopped, or would you rather have your precious husband find out with who you had an affair with? He will not take it so kindly as I did.” 

“So what? I never loved him, I was only made to be a toy. I can be so much more than that, but YOU never gave me the chance. I sinned but i’ve been forgiven but I still live in this FUCKING PRISON!” She ran at it, but got caught back by the chains.

 “ENOUGH.” The deity stood up, hovering over her. It looked slightly to the right, where one of its right hand looked directly at them. “Michael. Get one of the executors to sign up and get down at earth, you know what to do.”

Michael vanished in a cascade of golden light, leaving only a faint shimmer in his place. The divine presence turned their gaze back to the woman bound in searing white chains, her eyes filled with both fury and despair. “You will regret this,” 

she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice raw with pain. “You claim to be righteous, but all you do is destroy what you fear. You are no god—just a coward behind a throne.” The deity’s expression remained unreadable. Slowly, they descended, their feet barely touching the celestial marble beneath them. 

Their presence alone was enough to make the woman’s body tremble, the sheer weight of their power pressing down on her like an invisible force. “I am what is necessary,” they said, their voice devoid of emotion. “And you… you are a mistake that should have never been.”

“HE WILL FIND YOU. SAMAEL WILL—” Suddenly, a loud smack echoed through the kingdom, silencing the defiant cry. The force sent ripples through the celestial halls, as if the very foundations of heaven trembled in response.

“Do not bring up his name.” The deity’s voice was low, dangerous. Their hand shot forward, seizing the woman’s jaw with an iron grip, forcing her to meet their gaze. “Know your place, Eve. First woman of men kind.”

Eve panted, her breath ragged, yet her eyes burned with defiance. The deity’s grip did not loosen. Instead, they leaned in, their expression cold, detached.

“She will die,” they whispered, their tone like the final toll of a bell. “She will die because she is a venom to heaven. She will never exist again.”

Eve thrashed against the chains, her body trembling with rage and grief. “You… you’re making a mistake,” she rasped. “If you do this, nothing will hold him back. Nothing.”

The deity released her with a shove, letting her collapse onto the marble floor. “Then let him come,” they said, turning away. “Samael has no power here. And soon, neither will she.”

———

“Are you dumb or are you actually playing with me?” Bakugou grumbled annoyed, as his pencil ticked against your paper. “There is no way you think this is the correct answer.”

You rolled your eyes, finding his attitude more exhausting than anything. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you suddenly a math genius now?” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Bakugou scoffed, his crimson eyes narrowing. “I don’t need to be a genius to know you messed up basic algebra, dumbass.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil aggressively against the mistake.

After the incident a couple of months ago, Bakugou and you weirdly grew slightly closer. Oh, you two still went head-to-head over everything, but you also felt that Bakugou could at least tolerate your existence now. Maybe even respect it, in his own gruff way.

You huffed and snatched the paper back. “Alright, smartass, why don’t you show me how it’s done then?”

A cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Watch and learn.” He leaned over, quickly scribbling the correct equation down with almost unnecessary force. His shoulder brushed against yours, and though it was unintentional, neither of you moved away.

“See? Not that hard.” He shot you a triumphant look, waiting for your reaction.

You stared at the numbers on the page before sighing. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. You win this round.”

“Damn right I do.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed smugly, but there was something softer in his expression now, something almost amused.

You looked up and chuckled, throwing your eraser at his head, which he dodged with ease. “Get that smug smirk off your face.”

Bakugou scoffed, reaching for the eraser where it had landed. “Tch. You’re just mad I’m right.” He tossed it back at you, hitting you square in the forehead.

“Ow!” you glared, rubbing the spot as he smirked triumphantly.

“That’s payback.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you turned back to your paper. Maybe studying with Bakugou wasn’t so bad after all.

Just as you were about to refocus, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Aizawa stood there, arms crossed, his tired eyes fixed on you both.

“You two. Training ground. Now.” His voice left no room for argument.

You blinked. “Huh? Why?”

“Private session,” Aizawa said simply. “And Bakugou, you’re coming too. You’re the only one who can snap her out of it if things go south.”

Bakugou frowned. “Tch. What do you mean by that?”

Aizawa didn’t answer, already walking away.

You exchanged a glance with Bakugou, confusion and a bit of unease settling between you. Training wasn’t unusual, but this felt different. More serious. And the way Aizawa had said ‘if things go south’ didn’t exactly ease your nerves.

With a sigh, you stood up. “Guess we better get moving.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This better not be a waste of my damn time.”

But as the two of you made your way to the training grounds, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.

When you arrived, Aizawa was already waiting, arms still crossed, his usual tired expression laced with something more serious.

“All Might will be here in a second,” he said, eyes flicking between you and Bakugou. “Since it was proven my quirk isn’t able to stop you from going crazy, pure strength will have to do.” He gestured for you both to change into your hero suits.

You swallowed hard, exchanging another look with Bakugou before nodding. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just another training session. Something bigger was at play.

Moments later, clad in your hero suits, you stood across from Bakugou in the designated training area. Aizawa gave a simple nod before stepping back, letting the two of you take center stage.

“Alright, you two,” he called. “Nothing lethal. Control is the goal here.”

Bakugou cracked his knuckles, smirking. “Hope you can keep up, dumbass.”

You grinned, fire flickering at your fingertips. “Just try not to get burned.”

The moment Aizawa gave the signal, Bakugou lunged forward, explosions propelling him towards you. You sidestepped, barely dodging his initial strike, and retaliated with a burst of flames, forcing him to leap back. The heat radiated around you, more controlled than before, the fire curling around your arms without scorching wildly.

“You’re not flailing like last time,” Bakugou noted, blocking a fire-coated punch with his gauntlet. He shoved you back with a controlled explosion, enough to send you skidding but not enough to knock you off your feet.

You smirked, rolling your shoulders. “Maybe I’ve been paying attention.”

“Doubt it.” He shot forward again, this time feinting to the left before blasting up, aiming to come down with a powerful strike. You responded instinctively, flames surging beneath your feet to propel you upward, meeting him midair. The clash of fire and explosions sent a shockwave through the training ground, but neither of you backed down.

For the first time, you weren’t just reacting. You were fighting with precision, your fire bending to your will rather than raging uncontrollably. Bakugou noticed it too, his smirk widening as he deflected another burst of flames.

“Not bad,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But you’re still not beating me.”

You laughed, feeling the exhilaration course through your veins. “We’ll see about that.”

Aizawa watched from the sidelines, arms still crossed, his sharp eyes catching every movement. Alright arrived a few moments later, looking over at the two fighting. “Are you sure we should let her train so soon?” He questioned, worry definitely readable on his face.

“For some reason, bakugou keeps her grounded.” Aizawa answered him back. “I don’t know why, I don’t know how he does it, but he really does it.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed behind his capture weapon as he watched the spar unfold. Every movement was precise—refined. Your fire, once unpredictable and wild, now curled with intention. Controlled heat. Purpose.

But it wasn’t just the fire. It was you.

You didn’t hesitate like you used to. You didn’t let fear or doubt lead your steps. And every time your focus wavered, even slightly, Bakugou was there—charging, countering, snapping you back into the moment like a human anchor forged in explosions and spite.

“Tch,” Aizawa muttered under his breath. “I’ve seen pros with less chemistry.”

All Might leaned on the railing beside him, arms crossed, a contemplative look in his eyes. “I always knew Bakugou had raw potential… but he’s changed, hasn’t he? It’s not just about strength anymore.”

Aizawa gave a slight nod, watching as Bakugou barked something at you mid-air, the usual edge to his tone slightly dulled by—what was that? Encouragement?

“Whatever it is,” Aizawa said, “it’s keeping her from losing herself. That’s worth something.”

Your feet landed hard against the ground, heat pulsing up through your legs. Smoke curled around you, the aftershock of your last clash with Bakugou crackling through the air like static.

“Focus!” he shouted, voice cutting through the haze. “You’re drifting again!”

You snarled but nodded, brushing sweat from your brow with a swipe of your wrist. “I’m fine, damn it.”

“Didn’t look like it,” he muttered, already launching at you again. His explosions were tighter now, less destructive and more directional, meant to challenge—not hurt.

You ducked a blast, then twisted around him, flames lacing through your fingers as you skated the edge of control. The fire was hotter than ever—singing with adrenaline—but it obeyed.

Barely.

Bakugou turned mid-air, landing hard in a crouch. “That’s it,” he barked, breathless. “Make it yours. Don’t let it control you.”

You charged him, heat building at your back. A ring of fire burst outward from your feet, surging in his direction like a tide. Bakugou leapt above it, and the two of you collided mid-air again—your flame, his blast—a perfect storm. For a heartbeat, all the world was heat and light.

You crashed onto the ground with a roll, coughing but laughing under your breath. “You know,” you said, looking up at him, “for someone who acts like they hate me, you sure shout a lot of motivational speeches.”

He stood over you, hands on his hips, hair singed at the edges, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Shut up,” he said flatly. “You just suck less now.”

You snorted, flames flickering harmlessly at your sides. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

But he offered a hand to help you up anyway. You took it.

His grip was firm, grounding, and when you were back on your feet, he didn’t let go right away. Just for a second, his eyes scanned your face—checking for something. Fear, maybe. Unsteadiness. You didn’t know what he found, but he grunted, finally letting go, stepping back.

“Tch. Don’t get soft on me now.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, brushing your fingers through the smoke in the air. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Up on the platform, All Might smiled knowingly. “I think she’s found her anchor.”

“No,” Aizawa replied quietly. “She found her equal.”

——

The crackling of fire and explosions had softened now, echoing faintly across the charred training field. You and Bakugou stood a few feet apart, breathing heavily, the adrenaline finally beginning to settle in your veins.

The edge of your vision shimmered from the leftover heat, the scent of burnt ozone lingering in the air. Embers drifted lazily to the ground like falling stars, and the world felt still again. For a moment, it was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Bakugou glanced toward you, brushing ash from his gauntlet. “You’re getting faster,” he muttered, not quite a compliment—but coming from him, it might as well have been.

You grinned, about to throw some snark back when—

BOOM.

A blinding light tore through the sky.

Golden. Blistering. Divine.

It didn’t come like thunder—it was thunder. The force slammed into the ground just a few yards away from where you stood, cracking stone and sending dust and heat flying outward like a shockwave. Your instincts screamed as your flames flared to life without your permission, reacting to the sudden surge of unnatural power.

Bakugou whipped around, shielding his face with one arm. “What the—?!”

From the center of the impact, the golden light took form—elegant yet inhuman. Wings folded sharp as blades behind a tall, armored figure. Silver and gold etched down their arms like glowing veins. Their presence was holy—but cold, suffocating. Divine judgment in humanoid shape.

They didn’t speak at first.

They didn’t need to.

The pressure in the air told you everything—this being wasn’t here for a visit.

They were here for you.

“Designated target acquired,” the figure finally said, voice vibrating not just through the air—but through your bones. “Your presence defies order. You will be removed.”

There was no time to speak.

No time to question.

The moment you locked eyes with them—they moved.

Faster than human sight.

A burst of golden energy shot forward—and they were already on you.

You threw up a wall of flame, barely reacting in time. It held for a second—then shattered like glass as the being crashed through it, sending you flying backward across the field. You slammed into the dirt, rolled hard, and barely pushed yourself up before another strike came.

Bakugou launched himself into the air, roaring, “BACK OFF!”

A concussive blast shot toward the figure, forcing them to sidestep—graceful and calculated, like they had rehearsed every motion long before it happened. Still, Bakugou’s interference gave you a second to breathe.

“Move!” he shouted, landing beside you, panting. “This one’s not here to train—they’re here to erase you!”

“No kidding,” you spat, flames roaring to life around your arms, hotter than before. More alive. Your eyes glowed with heat, something primal starting to boil in your chest. This wasn’t just a fight anymore—it was survival.

The figure lifted their staff—or sword? It shifted with light—radiant, lethal, impossible to define. The glow at its edge intensified, humming with divine resonance.

In an instant, they moved again—straight toward you.

But this time—you met them head-on.

Your flame burst outward with raw force, clashing against the searing divine light of the intruder. Heat and holiness collided, scorching the battlefield in a vortex of color and energy.

Every strike from them was precise, meant to end. Every movement from you was instinct, raw power barely held in check. You ducked under a horizontal slash of their radiant weapon and let fire erupt from your feet to launch upward, twisting midair and releasing a jet of flame that crashed down toward them like a meteor.

They countered effortlessly—but the speed at which you moved now shocked even them.

You suddenly felt a piercing stab in your arm, as you we’re bleeding. You looked at your arm, but instead of the red blood you were used to, it was pitch black. “W-Whats..happening to me..”

Bakugou turned sharply, catching the way you staggered. “The hell’s going on? What happened—did he hit you?!”

You looked at him, lips trembling. “I… I think something’s wrong.”

The golden-armored attacker paused mid-step, eyes narrowing. Their blade lowered ever so slightly, their voice laced with contempt. “That isn’t human blood…”

A chill crawled up your spine.

You stared at the black fluid still dripping from your arm—and then you felt it. A flicker. Something twitching beneath your skin, like claws dragging along bone. The pain faded… but it was replaced with pressure. Your heart beat faster. Something inside your chest stirred.

“Heh…” the figure tilted their head. “It’s beginning, then.”

Bakugou was suddenly in front of you, his tone sharp. “What the hell does that mean? Beginning what?!”

The figure didn’t answer.

But your body did.

Your fingernails began to sharpen—subtle, not enough for someone untrained to notice, but Bakugou caught the change. Your eyes burned faintly, a soft crimson glow ebbing in and out like breathing embers. You could feel something inhuman curling at the edge of your mind. Unfamiliar.

A faint voice echoed inside your skull—not in words, but in emotion. Mocking. Ancient. Yours… and not yours.

“I—I don’t know what’s happening,” you whispered, grabbing Bakugou’s arm. “Something’s—inside me.”

“You’re not turning into anything,” he snapped. “Stay with me, dumbass. You’re stronger than this.”

But the figure was moving again.

They rushed forward, blade glinting with divine light—but Bakugou was already launching himself at them, fists exploding mid-air to intercept.

“You want her,” he growled, “you go through me.”

You fell to your knees behind them, clutching your arm as the black blood began to sizzle against your skin. The pressure in your chest was rising. You could feel it in your bones, in your breath—in your soul.

A part of you was waking up.

Not fully. Not yet.

But it was there now.

You clawed at your back, a scream coming out of your body as the bone snapping sound of something revealed two beautiful set of black wings. You stood there, like before, eyes pure black as you were about to pounce onto the angel, you got stopped.

Not by bakugou, not by Aizawa, no.

By something that felt like a little piece of home for some reason.

A claw held your arm, big black horns coming into view as it looking up at the angel. “Camael, I don’t appreciate you hurt his majesty’s daughter.” The creature spoke to the angel, Camael.

“Nothing personal Drax.” He spoke back, eyes full with hatred. “But she had to go. She’s a threat to Heaven.”

The mention of Heaven made your chest tighten, the words like poison on your ears. It didn’t matter what you’d become, or what you were now; the angel’s words stung deep, igniting the flames of rage inside you. But you couldn’t act on it. Not while this powerful being held you in place.

Drax’s eyes never left Camael. There was a cold, unreadable expression on his face as he stood his ground. “She will not be harmed,” Drax stated with finality. His voice was thick with authority, as though it was a decree, not a suggestion. “You’ve been warned.”

Camael scoffed, stepping forward slightly. “You think you can stop me, demon? I am a warrior of Heaven—”

“You are nothing more than a pawn,” Drax interrupted, his voice unwavering. The tension in the air thickened, crackling with a dark energy that seemed to swirl around him. “I won’t say it again. Leave.”

For a moment, everything stood still. The two beings, one of light and one of shadow, locked in an unspoken battle of wills. The ground beneath you seemed to tremble as the dark energy from Drax met Camael’s celestial power.

But despite the angel’s fiery glare, Camael didn’t make a move. There was something in Drax’s presence, an undeniable power that was not to be challenged. For all his arrogance, Camael knew when to retreat.

The angel’s wings flickered as he finally stepped back, unwilling to engage any further. “This is not over,” Camael spat, his voice seething with hate. “You cannot protect her forever.”

Drax didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as Camael spread his wings and took flight, vanishing into the sky with a blinding flash of light. Silence fell in the wake of his departure, leaving you standing, your body trembling, caught between two worlds.

As the last of the angel’s light faded, you blinked, the dark energy within you slowly simmering down, though it still burned beneath the surface. Your wings twitched again, the black feathers glinting ominously.

The dark figure—Drax—turned to you. His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice much gentler now.

You were silent for a moment, still in shock from everything that had just happened. The angel, your transformation, the sudden appearance of this demon—everything felt so surreal. But as you stared up at Drax, something about his presence, the way he was unwavering in his protection of you, made you feel an odd sense of safety.

“I… don’t know,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “What… what was that? Why did you help me?”

Drax's gaze softened ever so slightly. “I’m here to keep you safe, Princess,” he said simply, his tone devoid of emotion but carrying a weight of experience. “You have much to learn, and there are forces that want to see you destroyed. But you are not alone.”

The word Princess struck a chord in you, the significance of it making your mind reel. You had no idea what it meant, but the way Drax said it—the quiet authority in his voice—suggested something far greater than what you had imagined.

Bakugou stepped forward, a tense expression on his face. “Who the hell is this guy? Why is he calling you ‘Princess’?” He looked at you as if expecting an explanation.

You shook your head, still dazed by the events unfolding. “I… don’t know. But I don’t think he’s our enemy.”

Drax’s eyes flicked briefly to Bakugou, sizing him up, but he said nothing. His focus remained on you, the same unreadable expression on his face.

Your eyes wondered to Drax again, as allmight slowly stood behind you. “..Who are you..?”

He bowed deeply, his hand laid on top of his own heart. If he even has one.

“My name is Drax, I am the right hand man of the one who controls hell itself.” He looked up again “and you, your highness, you are the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar.”

---------

taglist:

@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu

---------

A/N: A very late birthday post! My birthday was this Monday and I also lost the original document where I store this story so I'm sorry for the delay! Do let me know what you thought of this chapter :DD

Chapter Five

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list

< Previous chapter Next chapter >

The tension in the air is awkward. It always happens when you walk into the room.

After the incident, you sat in your designated seat. You didn’t dare look any of them in the eye, especially bakugou. You had time to reflect a lot on you losing control and having burned him a lot.

Everyone ignores you too.

You noticed of course, when everyone becomes quiet when you enter. You didn’t blame them, you would have done the exact same thing if you were in their position. But it was still a bummer,

You were just started making friends

Lunch used to be one of your favorite times of the day. Now, it was unbearable.

You sat in your usual spot, tray untouched, eyes locked on the table in front of you. The low hum of chatter filled the cafeteria, but it felt distant—like you were hearing it from underwater. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that no one sat directly next to you.

Even Kaminari, who usually had no concept of personal space, was two seats away, nervously shoving rice into his mouth without looking in your direction.

You sighed, pushing a piece of food around your plate with your chopsticks. It’s not like you didn’t understand. You did. You had lost control—almost hurt people. If you were them, you’d be wary too.

Still, it stung.

You finally glanced up, scanning the room. Yaoyorozu was whispering to Jirou, who subtly glanced your way before looking back at her food. Iida was speaking with Midoriya, but his usual hand gestures were stiffer than normal. Even Uraraka, who had always been warm and welcoming, only gave you a small, uncertain smile when your eyes met.

And then there was Bakugou.

He was sitting a few tables away with Kirishima and Sero, his back to you. You hadn’t spoken since the incident—not really. His burns had healed quickly thanks to Recovery Girl, but that didn’t mean you forgot the way his suit had practically melted off his skin, the way he had looked at you in those final moments.

Like he wasn’t sure if you were still you.

The memory made your stomach twist, so you quickly looked away.

You felt his eyes burn into you as you stood up, students whispering as they looked at your every move. Of course everyone knows, rumours spread quick here. You barely made it past the cafeteria doors before a hand grabbed your wrist, halting you in place.

Your body tensed immediately—you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Oi.”

That rough, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. Not out of fear, but something else. Something you weren’t ready to name.

You swallowed and slowly turned, meeting Bakugou’s intense gaze. His red eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t exactly looking at you with his usual irritation, either.

It was something different.

“What?” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. For a second, he didn’t speak. Then, his grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely. “You gonna keep walkin’ around like a ghost forever?”

You stiffened, glancing away. “It’s none of your business.”

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Dumbass, I ain’t gonna let you mope around like some kicked dog. You think I give a shit about what happened?”

Your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly. “What?”

He scoffed. “You think you’re the first person to screw up? You think I haven’t—” He cut himself off, scowling. “Whatever. Point is, stop actin’ like everyone’s scared of you.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Aren’t they?”

Bakugou held your gaze, his jaw clenching. “I’m not.” Something about the way he said it, so blunt and firm, made your chest tighten.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he huffed and finally let go of your wrist. “Get your shit together,” he muttered before brushing past you, hands shoved in his pockets.

You stood there, staring at his back as he walked away, the warmth of his grip still lingering on your skin. A small sudden smile leaving your lips, It felt like a small weight got lifted off your shoulders.

He might be a secret softy after all.

——

“She’s moving into the dorms today” Aizawa stated in the living area, where whole class 3-A was gathered today. “I want her to feel welcomed. Just because she lost control of her quirk, doesn’t mean you should treat her any less.” He spoke with a stern voice.

“I have seen how you have been treating her and I got to say, I’m disappointed.” He sighed, beginning to walk away. “After all, true heroes would never judge” He spoke as he disappeared into his own private living area, leaving the students alone with his words and their thoughts.

The common area was unusually quiet when you stepped in, arms wrapped around a box filled with your belongings, suitcase rolling unevenly behind you. You didn’t expect a warm welcome, not after everything that had happened, but the sheer weight of the silence still pressed uncomfortably against your chest.    

You kept your head down, moving quickly toward the elevator. Just get to your room. Don’t make it worse.  

“Ah—Wait!” 

You nearly flinched when Midoriya’s voice rang out. He was already moving toward you, hands outstretched, as if hesitating to offer help. His eyes were the same as always—full of that ridiculous, unwavering kindness.  

“Here, let me take that,” he said, reaching for the box in your arms. You hesitated. “I—uh—”  “Don’t drop it, nerd,” came another voice, rough and exasperated. You turned just in time to see Bakugou stomp forward, scowl deep as ever. Before you could react, he grabbed the handle of your suitcase, yanking it from your grasp like it was his own.  

Your mouth opened, then closed again.  “What?” he grumbled, barely looking at you. “You were struggling with it.” “I wasn’t—”  

“Oh, so you wanted to carry all this yourself?”  

You clenched your jaw, but before you could respond—“Kacchan, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Midoriya said with a sigh, shifting the box in his arms. “Shut it, Deku.”  

“I was just saying—”  “Tch. Who asked you, huh?”  

Midoriya rolled his eyes. “You’re literally helping her too, Kacchan.”  

Bakugou stiffened like he’d been electrocuted. “I—That’s not—Shut the hell up!” You blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and reluctant amusement. Midoriya sighed again, clearly used to this routine. “Come on, let’s just get her stuff upstairs.”  

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue, already stomping toward the elevator with your suitcase. Midoriya gave you a small, reassuring smile before following after him.   You stood there for a second, processing.  

Your eyes slowly watering but smiling softly. You quickly wiped them away as they brought you to your dorm room. You looked around, as you noticed midoriya standing there, watching you. “I-If you don’t mind me asking, how..how did you lose control..?”

You looked at both bakugou and midoriya, as you sat on the bed. “I don’t know I just..” You fiddled with your rings. All I can remember is just straight rage..”

You looked at your hands. Blurred memories flashing in your head, as you lit up the flame slightly. The boys looked at you, carefully studying your expressions. “I’ve never felt my quirk like this before.” You looked up at them, “It was raw, but it also felt like…” You trailed off.

“More like myself. I have never felt more in touch with myself before than that day.”

Bakugou scoffed. “That’s a load of crap. You either control your quirk or you don’t.” But there was no real bite in his tone—just curiosity.

“Maybe..” Midoriya looked at the both of them. “I think- Are you certain its a quirk?” He rambled, his hands moving fast as he got nervous. “I-I mean! T-Think about it-! Mr Aizawas Quirk didn’t work-! And H-His quirk always works!!” 

You didn’t realise that you’ve been standing up, and slightly hovering over him as he scrunched down. “What do you mean aizawas quirk didn’t work?”

Silence settled over the room, thick and heavy. Midoriya swallowed hard, his fingers twitching as his mind raced to piece everything together.

“I-I mean exactly that,” he stammered, eyes darting between you and Bakugou. “Aizawa-sensei tried to erase your quirk during the incident, but… nothing happened.”

You blinked. Your heartbeat quickened. “That’s not possible,” you muttered. “His quirk has worked on me before.”

Midoriya nodded frantically. “That’s what I’m saying! It should have worked—but it didn’t. Not even for a second.” He exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself down. Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s bullshit. She’s had a quirk since day one. What the hell else could it be?”

Silence settled in the room again, but this time no one knew the answer.

——

You kept tossing and turning in your bed that night. 

You kept tossing and turning, the sheets tangled around you, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t escape. No matter how hard you tried to push them away, they clawed their way back—Aizawa’s quirk not working, the raw power you had felt, Midoriya’s worried expression.

What if he was right? What if this wasn’t just your quirk evolving?

Every time you closed your eyes, flickers of that moment returned. The heat, the certainty, the overwhelming sense that something had shifted inside you. It didn’t feel foreign. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt… like you had only just begun to wake up.

With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, running a hand through your hair. The moonlight streamed through your window, casting pale light over your room. Instinctively, your fingers traced over the burn mark on your palm.

With a huff, you threw off the covers and got to your feet. If sleep wouldn’t come, you might as well do something useful. The energy buzzing under your skin was unbearable, like a fire begging to be unleashed.

Slipping on your training gear, you made your way outside, careful not to wake anyone. The training grounds were deserted at this hour—just how you wanted it. No distractions. No eyes watching.

The second your feet hit the mat, you ignited your flames. They roared to life instantly, more intense than ever, licking up your arms as if responding to your frustration. You took a deep breath and got to work—punches, kicks, controlled bursts of fire. Each movement was sharp, deliberate, fueled by the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

Faster. Harder. Stronger.

The heat around you thickened, sweat dripping down your temple as you pushed your body past its limits. The raw power felt good—too good. Your control wavered, flames surging higher, burning brighter.

“Oi. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You froze, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Bakugou stood at the entrance of the training grounds, arms crossed, his sharp crimson eyes locked onto you. His usual scowl was there, but something else lingered beneath it—concern.

“You tryna burn the whole damn place down?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “Or are you just that much of a dumbass that you think overworking yourself in the middle of the night is a good idea?”

You wiped the sweat from your brow, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Tch. No shit.” He eyed the scorch marks on the ground, then back at you. “Your flames are different.”

You swallowed, flexing your fingers as the fire dimmed. “I know.”

Silence stretched between you before you crossed your arms, tilting your head at him. “And what about you?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing awake?”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, looking away for half a second before scoffing. “That’s none of your damn business.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to call me a dumbass for being out here, but not the other way around?”

“Tch. Shut up.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t sleeping either.”

That made you pause.

You had expected a brush-off, an insult, maybe even an explosion—but not honesty.

Your arms loosened slightly. “Bad dreams?” He clicked his tongue again, looking off to the side. “Something like that.”

A beat of silence.

Then, with a sharp breath, Bakugou rolled his shoulders and dropped into a stance, popping his knuckles. “You wanna push yourself? Fine. But you’re not gonna do it like an idiot.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Let’s train.”

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before mirroring his stance. “Fine,” you muttered, tightening your fists. “But don’t go easy on me.”

Bakugou smirked, a flicker of excitement flashing in his eyes. “As if I ever would.”

Without warning, he lunged. You barely had time to react before he was in your space, throwing a quick, testing jab toward your ribs. You twisted just in time, flames sparking at your fingertips as you countered with a sharp kick aimed at his side. He dodged, a small explosion bursting from his palm as he propelled himself backward.

“Your reaction time’s slow,” he taunted. “You hesitated.”

You scoffed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Yeah? You talk too much.”

A burst of fire shot from your hands as you lunged forward, feinting left before twisting at the last second, aiming a punch toward his shoulder. But he was ready. He caught your wrist, the heat from your flames barely phasing him, and yanked you off balance. You hit the mat with a grunt, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.

“See? Hesitated again.” He smirked, offering a hand. “You’re thinking too much.”

You glared up at him but took his hand anyway, letting him pull you up. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t barking in my ear every two seconds.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, get over it.” His smirk faded slightly as he crossed his arms, eyeing you with something close to curiosity. “You’ve been weird lately.”

You tensed. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it, dumbass,” he shot back. “You’re holding back, but at the same time, you’re not. It’s like you don’t even know your own power right now.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “Maybe I don’t.”

Bakugou frowned, silent for a moment. Then he scoffed. “Tch. That’s dumb. You do.”

Your eyes snapped up to him. “What?”

His gaze was steady, unwavering. “You’re acting like you’re lost or some shit, but I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen how you move, how you burn.” His voice was firm, like he was stating an undeniable fact. “This isn’t about not knowing your power. It’s about you being too scared to accept it.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

Something had changed inside you, something deeper than just your quirk. But you weren’t sure if you were ready to face what that really meant.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You wanna figure this out? Then stop overthinking and fight like you mean it.” He popped his knuckles again, dropping back into his stance. “Now get up. We’re not done.”

You let out a slow breath, rolling your shoulders.“Fine,” you muttered, flames sparking to life once more.

Bakugou’s smirk widened as he watched the fire in your eyes finally match the flames in your hands. “That’s more like it.”

The two of you circled each other, the air between you charged with something electric—something unspoken. You didn’t know if it was the heat from your flames or the sheer intensity of his presence, but in that moment, nothing else existed. Just the fight. Just the fire.

You lunged first, no hesitation this time. Bakugou met you head-on, explosions igniting in his palms as the battle between you burned into the night.

And through it all, that damn smirk never left his face.

---------

taglist:

@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu

---------

A/N: I didn't abandon this story I promise!! I've been really busy and my birthday is next week so I'm prepping for that! Hope you enjoyed :)

Wereballs

Wereballs.

Okay My god I am alive, I think I started this account like last summer? I wanna try and write again, and since I’m obsessed with Miguel O’Hara at the moment, I would love to write more marvel scenarios 😔

Give me some fresh miguel and others of the spiderverse requests guyss😩

Sending love to all out in Iran, what is going on is cruel!

Ik this isn't my usual post, but this needs awareness.

If you aren't aware of what's going on:

A 22 year old Kurdish girl named Mahas Amini been brutally killed by morality police because she wasn't wearing her hijab right, and she WAS wearing her hijab, and sadly, this isn't the first time that police and government did something like this to people so Iranian people are protesting in the streets, police even shot a 10 year old little girl .

So please if you have a Twitter account or any social media account that you think might help, use the #Mahsa_Amini and let others know about what we're going through in iran, it's not only because this innocent girl got killed it's because we are tired of the government not caring about our human rights

They are also cutting off Internet in Iran so Iranians cannot share their voice online, so please bring awareness to this, protests are being very rough and Iran and its people are suffering! Please repost or reblog this for awareness!

Thank you for your time.

Tagging a few people so it can reach an audience through different blogs, so if I tag you please if you can reblog that would be brilliant

@mrsdostoevsky @ashthemadwriter @sips-tea-cutely @pussydrunkfyodor @miss-akutagawa @akira-rattan @allisonlol

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

Bungou Stray dogs

Head canons: reacting to their S/O crying on their birthday Having a Ghost S/O interacting with their wan selfs

Dazai Osamu: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes Stories: "Please. I need you."

Chuuya Nakahara: headcanons: A s/o who can also wield Gravity S/O poured bleach into their eyes

Atsushi Nakjima: stories: "no matter how much you'll hurt me, I won't leave"

Beast Universe:

Beast Dazai: Stories: "A Little brighter in a dark place" "Chuuya knows" “Do you like me now?”

Other Au's

~nothing yet~

Marvel universe

Tony Stark: Head canons: Stark! reader poured bleach into their eyes Stories: ''I'm proud of you kiddo''

Peter parker: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes

Stranger things

Steve Harrington: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes Eddie munson: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes

Genshin Impact

Tartaglia: Head canons: S/O poured Bleach into their eyes

Beidou: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes

The DC universe

The Joker: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes

Harley Quinn: Head canons: S/O poured bleach into their eyes

Elvis Presley

Elvis Head canons: S/O Poured bleach into their eyes

Chapter Two

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

---------

The moment class started you knew it would be heavy. Not because of the material or classes you had to take, oh no you had those in the bag. 

But because of the damn stares.

‘Not only was my entrance dramatic, but this dumbass really has a staring problem..’ She whispered to herself as she began writing down the material Aizawa was talking about. The stares of the explosive blond were glaring holes into her back. It was so bad, it felt like he was actively making holes into your body.

You looked around, half interested in what aizawa was saying but more interested in what was sitting around you.

As instructed by nezu, you sat in the far front. With besides you a sort French aesthetic kind of student, who winked at you as he noticed you looked at him. You shivered slightly, something tells you that even with his appearance you should keep a distance from him.

Behind him sat a guy with a lighting bolt in his hair, one of his hands was in his hair as the other was scribbling to keep up with aizawa, who has continued with his talk with no sign of stopping.

“Pssst” a noise krept from behind you. You turned your body slightly turning back to see a pink skinned girl staring at you with a whole lot of curiosity. “It’s so random a new student joins our class so in the middle of the school year, I’m Mina Ashido! But everyone calls me mina.”

She grinned, resting her chin on her hand as she kept her eyes locked on you. “Sooo? What’s your Quirk?” she whispered, completely ignoring the lesson happening at the front of the room.

You hesitated, not sure whether to answer with Aizawa still talking. Before you could decide, the student beside you shifted slightly. With his glittering uniform and confident smirk, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover rather than in a classroom.

“Mina, mon cher, you’re overwhelming them,” he said smoothly, flashing you a wink. “I am Yuga Aoyama. Enchanté.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re fancy,” Denki muttered from behind him, lazily spinning his pen between his fingers. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? It’s gotta be something cool if they let you transfer into 3-A this late.”

Mina nodded eagerly, eyes gleaming. “Right?! I mean, you must be crazy strong or super smart or—”

A dry voice interrupted from the front. “Ashido. Kaminari. Do you enjoy being distractions?”

Mina’s mouth snapped shut as Aizawa’s gaze landed on her. Denki immediately straightened in his seat, eyes darting back to his notes. Aoyama, on the other hand, only gave a slow, deliberate flip of his hair before turning forward again.

The classroom settled back into silence, except for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional creak of a chair. Mina shot you a side glance, mouthing, Tell me later.

As lunchtime approaches, you stood still with a tray of your lunch as you looked like a deer in headlights.

‘So many tables..’ You thought, as you walked around, trying to spot mina.

“OVER HERE!!” A female voice shouted as mina waved excitedly to you, trying to get you over at the lunch table.

Relieved, you quickly made your way toward Mina’s table, weaving through the maze of students. As you approached, you noticed she wasn’t alone—several of your classmates were already seated with her.

“Finally! I thought you’d get lost or something,” Mina teased as she scooted over to make room for you. “Come sit!”

You carefully placed your tray down and took a seat, still feeling a little out of place. Across from you, Denki grinned. “First lunch with the squad, huh? Big moment.”

Next to him, the spiky red head, Kirishima, gave you a friendly nod. “Don’t worry, everyone here’s cool. Except Bakubro.” He laughed, dodging a half-hearted kick from the explosive blonde sitting at the edge of the table.

“Shut up, idiot.”

You finally allowed your eyes to rest on bakugou. His blond hair was ashy and spiky, which weirdly suited him. He had broad shoulders, but to be fair everyone had that in the hero course. They trained you to the bone at U.A, she heard the teacher enough about the exams and what they plan every year.

But the thing that pulled you the most were those eyes.

Crimson eyes, with a hardend gaze.

“You have a staring problem extra?” Bakugou pulled you out of your thoughts. You smirked, clearly liking a challenge. “Should we reverse that question over to you? Hm? I saw you staring the entirely of class, not so slick dude.”

The table collectively went, "Oooooh," as they watched the interaction unfold like an intense showdown. Mina covered her mouth, barely containing her laughter, while Denki leaned in, clearly entertained. Even Kirishima, who usually played peacemaker, smirked as he watched Bakugou's reaction.

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his grip tightening around his chopsticks. “Tch. Like I’d waste my time staring at some extra like you.” He scoffed, turning his attention back to his food, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed.

“Oh yeah?” You leaned on your elbow, resting your chin in your palm. “Then what’s got you so worked up, Bakugou?” You purposely dragged out his name, watching for a reaction.

Denki almost choked on his drink, and Mina had to slap his back to keep him from making a scene. “Yo, I like them,” he wheezed between coughs. “Finally, someone who isn’t scared to mess with Bakugou.”

Bakugou set his chopsticks down with a loud clack, eyes flicking back to you. “Keep running your mouth, and we’ll see how funny you are during training.” His tone was low, dangerous—yet, there was something else beneath it, something almost… intrigued.

You simply smirked, unbothered. “Looking forward to it.”

Kirishima let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “Man, you’ve got guts. Most people don’t go head-to-head with Bakugou unless they wanna get blown up.”

Mina elbowed you playfully. “Yeah, but I kinda love it! We needed some fresh energy in 3-A.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. “Like I care. If they wanna get their ass kicked, that’s their problem.” He grabbed his tray and stood up, shoving his hand into his pockets as he walked off without another word.

You watched him go, noting the slight stiffness in his posture. Interesting.

Denki leaned toward you with a conspiratorial grin. “Sooo, what’s the deal? You got a death wish, or do you just like pissing him off?”

You chuckled. “He’s easy to piss off, you can see that from a mile away” 

Mina laughed, nudging your shoulder. “Okay, okay, enough about Bakugou before he somehow hears us and explodes something.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? You’ve been here half a day, and we still don’t know!”

The tall one with black hair and can shoot tape out of his elbow, Sero, chimed in as well. “And what’s up with you knowing all these teachers? I’ve seen them look at you-“

You laughed softly, putting your chopsticks down. “Well,” you started, “The reasons I know almost all pro heroes is because of my adoptive parent, Principal Nezu.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, nearly dropping his drink. “Wait, what?!” he blurted out, leaning forward like he hadn’t heard you right. “You’re telling me Nezu—our Principal Nezu—is your adoptive parent? That’s insane!”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as his brows furrowed in curiosity. “Wait, hold on,” he said, eyes locked on you. “Does that mean you grew up at U.A.? Like, did you just… run around the school as a kid?”

You chuckle, “Technically I did, My quirk developed when I was around 3 years old, it was really destructive and out of control, so after classes nezu would always send someone to train with me.” You played with your food a bit, the rice going back and forth. “I trained a lot with all might, but also with endeavour, since it does resolve around fire..” You slowly turned a bit quiet, remembering a bit of the old times.

Mina’s eyes widened as she nearly dropped her chopsticks. “Wait, WHAT?!” she practically shouted, earning a few glances from nearby tables. She ignored them, leaning in closer with an excited gasp. “You trained with All Might and Endeavor? That’s not just cool—that’s, like, insane!”

She reached out and lightly shook your arm. “Dude! That’s top-tier hero training! No wonder you got into 3-A so easily!”

But then, as she watched you quietly push your rice around, her excited energy softened just a bit. She tilted her head, her big golden eyes studying you carefully. “Wait… was that, like… a good thing? Or was it, y’know, hard?”

Mina wasn’t the type to pry, but she also wasn’t the type to ignore when something felt off. So instead of bombarding you with more questions, she simply nudged you with her shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, no pressure, but if training with those guys sucked, you totally have the right to say it.”

Then, as if to lighten the mood again, she smirked. “But also, real talk—was Endeavor as scary back then as he is now? Be honest.”

You sighed, “lets just say… I get why his kids aren’t talking to him anymore or at least as possible.”

Denki let out a low whistle. “Yikes. That bad, huh?”

Kirishima frowned, crossing his arms. “Man… that’s rough. I always figured he was tough, but—” he shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the good kind of tough.”

Sero sighed, propping his chin on his hand. “Can’t say I’m surprised. The guy’s intense in all the wrong ways.”

Mina pouted, resting her cheek on her palm. “Ugh, that sucks. No kid deserves that.” Then, after a beat, she perked up. “But hey, you got out of it way cooler than him, sooo… win?”

Denki grinned. “Yeah! You turned out awesome despite all that. Kinda badass, not gonna lie.”

The table hummed in agreement, their support loud in their own way.

You smiled softly, the tension that had been building up easing out of your shoulders. You looked at the squad and laughed softly. You could get used to this

When the lunch period was finished and everyone resumed back into their respectable classrooms, aizawa announced that is was highly time to train. He stood in front of your desk, his gaze softer than normal with other students.

“You can watch if you want, but if you decide to fight than just now I won’t put you against an easy person. I know you can handle the top of the top here.”

Midoriya perked up at Aizawa’s words, turning toward you with wide eyes. “Whoa, Aizawa-sensei must really believe in your skills if he’s saying that!” His expression shifted into one of deep thought, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to start scribbling in his notebook.

“I mean, it’s rare for him to just say something like that outright… You must have already shown some serious potential for him to trust you against the strongest students in our class!” He muttered under his breath, glancing at you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.

Mina smirked, leaning toward you. “He’s totally trying to analyze you already.”

You laughed, waving at midoriya. “I bet your quirk is just as awesome!” You compliment him, making him blush slightly and bakugou scowl. You turn your head towards him, one of your eyebrows raised to him. “What?” You started.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, arms crossed as he shot you an irritated glare. “Tch. Don’t go filling Deku’s head with crap.”

Midoriya tensed slightly. “Kacchan, that’s not—”

You slowly walked over to bakugou, your hands on top of his desk. “What, did I bruise your ego or something?”

The class collectively oohed at your boldness, while Mina practically vibrated with excitement.

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his scowl deepening. “Like hell I care. Just don’t go acting like Deku’s some big deal.” He jabbed a thumb at himself. “If you’re gonna be impressed by someone, it should be me.”

You rolled your eyes, which caused bakugou to stand up and slightly tower over you. “Wow, that was so not insecure at all. Cry me a river bakugou.”

Bakugou stood up straighter, his glare now intense as he leaned over his desk, his hands planted firmly on the edge. “You think you can talk to me like that, huh?” His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge. “I’ll make you regret that, extra.”

“I can’t hear you, blasty.” You grinned up at him.

“Enough.” Aizawa shouted, making everyone halt in their position. “If you two want to fight, then do it. Take it to the training area.”

The class was silent, all eyes on you both as the tension crackled.

Bakugou’s lips curled into a sneer, his fists clenched tightly. “You think you can actually keep up, huh? Don’t cry when I wipe the floor with you.”

You stood your ground, unfazed by his words. "Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in the dust where you belong.”

Aizawa sighed, and shook his head. “These kids will be the death of me..”

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@graythecoffeebean

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A/N: I'm so excited for you all to see this development happen, please do let me know it the comments what you think will happen next!