I Just Heard Someone Out In The Hallway Go “omae Wa Mo Shinderu” And Then Someone Screamed “NO!!!”

kacchan protecting deku + all might + deku’s face tbh

Joining in on that ship dynamics meme hehe

Our bones remember the struggles we went through. And we are not voiceless after all.  Other places to see my posts: INSTAGRAM / FACEBOOK / ETSY

The evening was quiet and still as the sun slowly sank. It was peaceful, calm, though not for long. Moments after the sun sank fully, the shadows began to writhe and bubble. Soft taps and scratching noises sounded out from the front of the home, gradually growing in number, as the owner of the little cottage slowly stirred.

Lighting a small candle, the older woman shuffled out of her bedroom, a soft shawl pulled over her shoulders, and her nightie brushing against her slippered feet. After a few moments of fiddling, she opened up the front door and stepped out, raising her candle a little in order to see better.

The sounds stopped, and a large lanky form dropped from the roof, landing before the old woman. It bent down, terrible maw opening up slightly, before letting out a gargling rumble, its warped body easily towering over the little old lady, face stopping inches from her own.

The old woman squinted up at the creature, before smiling brightly when it finally got close enough.

“Elenta! You’re awful early today dearie. Trying to get the first pickings are we?” The old woman tittered as the monstrous creature let out a choked gargling sound in response.

Patting the sheepish creatures cheek fondly, she turned around and shuffled back inside, the creature following along dutifully. Once it had cleaned off its hands and feet, it settled contentedly next to the kitchen counter, eagerly munching on its goodies as the woman shuffled around the kitchen, setting everything up for the night.

A few minutes later, a terrible screeching hiss was heard from the kitchen window, and the woman smiled, dusting off the flour on her hands.

“Elenta, be a dear and open the window for Kdlr’t will you please?” Nodding approvingly as the creature gurgled in reply, she turned her attention to the oven, pleased to see that the next batch was doing well.

She would have to get one of them to help her get down the big pan later, so that she could make more of that drink the so love. One of them must have put it up there the last time they helped clean up, forgetting her comparably tiny size. Fixing her shawl, she turned towards her guests, smiling as she saw that a few others had arrived, a large brutish looking creature lumbering over for its nightly head pats. She did so love her darling monstrous visitors. 

All Might’s other life long friend from America

twitter

I love that Katsuki Bakugou is apparently just… Friend shaped. He wants nothing to do with anyone else for at least the first 14-15 years of his life, but people just decide to befriend him anyways.

Izuku’s absolutely dedicated to protecting and defending Katsuki as his childhood friend despite us never seeing Katsuki so much as be nice to him. If anything Katsuki has tried everything in his power to unfriend Izuku, but Izuku just straight up refuses.

Kirishima basically just decided he was Katsuki’s friend during/after the USJ attack. Did Katsuki get a say in this? Nope. He does resign himself to it, and eventually starts to return the friendship, but that takes awhile.

Even the League of Villains just took one look at this explosive, foul mouthed, angry, uncontrollable child and were just like ‘Ah, yes, this right here is the perfect ally material’. Not even ‘a good possible weapon’ or ‘hey strong quirk for a new nomu’. Nope, an ally that Tomura wants unharmed and treated as an equal.

Maybe the nitroglycerin acts a friend pheromone somehow. It’d explain why people keep looking at him and being like ‘yeah, that teenage boy with the firepower of an actual missile and the personality equivalent of a monstrous hybrid between a mongoose, a regular goose, and a badger, I wanna be friends with him.’

When you start to stir this morning, you cant help but wonder if you’re having a particularly odd dream, the stats hovering behind your eyelids, making that the only real conclusion. Opening your eyes and blinking a few times, you frown in confusion. Hanging before you in the air, are the same set of stats you could see with your eyes closed. They seem to be gaming stats of some sort, something that confuses you since, whilst you enjoy them, you rarely get the time to play them anymore, so you generally don’t dream about them. Sitting up in bed, you find the stats following you easily, somehow not obscuring your vision. You’re still convinced this might be some kind of weird dream, despite the cold slowly seeping into your feet, now that they are touching the floor. With a sigh, you try to pay attention to the stats again, deciding that you may as well fuck around with them, since its just a dream. 

Over the course of the morning, you mess with all of your stats, finding you can move them around with a brief thought. To your surprise, and delight, they seem to work, but as the day wears on, you start to realise that this might not be a dream after all. 

As you sit there, absently using your increased strength to open that jar you’ve been trying to crack into all week, you contemplate what this might mean for you. Is it permanent? How far reaching can you make this? What will you do with this kind of power? Already you’ve used your charisma to convince the crabby old landlord to give you a few more days to pay rent, a usually impossible task. You’ve used your luck and found a hundred dollars stuck in a hedge outside, and you used your intelligence stats to finish the essay that you had been stuck on all week, because you forgot all the subject matter. Luckily, no one else seems to see the small window of stats. You even figured out how to make the little window fold away to one side, almost invisible, if you weren’t already aware it was there.

A soft hiss of air interrupts your thoughts, the jar opening with surprising ease. Suddenly, your stats glow brightly the numbers increasing on each and the small letters above the stats finally draw your eyes up,something you hadn’t really paid attention to until now. You watch as the simple “Level: 1″ slowly shifts to “Level: 2″, and it dawns on you that this might just be the beginning. 

Battle montage!

The village you call your home, is surrounded by harpies. The harpies are revered, feared, adored, and hated in equal measures by those that live there. Their fearsome visage and reputation, keeps the village safe from attacks, none foolish enough to lay siege to a place where so many harpies call their home, and the few that had tried, having been dealt with swiftly. However they are also mischievous creatures, and care little for human laws, often stealing things from people in passing, or stores showing their wares. They have a particular love for stealing anything shiny. 

The harpies are strange creatures. There’s no denying that they are terrifyingly alien in appearance, but there’s also no denying that they are still incredibly beautiful in a way that cant quite be verbalised. They don’t tend to interact with the people all that much, other than the few who fall under their favour, or interest them. Mostly, they simply watch people go about their days, tittering at their actions, or occasionally swooping in to cause some mischief. 

You’ve only lived a few months in the village, but the harpies seem to have already taken an interest in you. There seems to be at least one watching you at any given time, tittering and making sly comments that leave you blushing or smiling. To the harpies, it seems, you are something of a precious jewel. 

Things start to escalate as it nears spring, and the harpies start getting bolder, trying to lure you over to them constantly, or commenting on how you would look so good in some of the trinkets they own. Finding yourself just as interested, you willingly spend time with them, finding them to be strikingly intelligent creatures, with sharp tongues and wit. One of them, sticks out to you the most, the two of you seeming to click instantly, in a way you haven’t been able to with anyone before.

This harpy soon becomes a close friend to you, and at first, due to your lack of knowledge, you think that’s all she wants. Its not until you start to listen to other peoples curious comments or observations, that you realise it may be something more. All the delicate beads and pretty things, so lovingly woven into your hair, the jewels she insists you wear, and the way she primps and preens for you every time you look her way, her sisters tittering and teasing her for her actions. Its not until some bull headed boy keeps insisting on a date, and grasps your hand, that you understand.

“Don’t touch my treasure!” she snaps at the boy, swooping in out of nowhere and spreading her wings wide in a threat display. 

She wraps her wings around you, surrounding you in silky feathers as she clutches you close, hissing insults at his hastily retreating back, and you cant help but smile and relax into her. Apparently you’re being courted by a harpy. And honestly, you’re cant say that the concept displeases you in the slightest.