Boku No Hero Acedamia - Blog Posts

“Ashes and New Beginnings”

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Action / Romance / Angst / Fluff

TW: Mild violence, pregnancy, labor scene, emotional vulnerability

---

The mission was never supposed to go this far south.

You were only a few weeks away from your due date—not ideal for fieldwork, but you were stubborn. You could still move, still fight, and no one dared to argue when you gave that look. Not even him.

“Stay behind me,” Dabi had warned with a voice like low fire, his back shielding yours as the Pro Heroes ambushed the warehouse. “You shouldn’t have come. You know that, right?”

You smirked, placing a hand on your swollen belly. “You think I’d let you run off without me? Nice try, hotshot.”

He didn’t smile—Dabi rarely did—but the way his eyes flickered toward you said everything. He hated this. Hated seeing you like this, vulnerable and too close to danger. Hated that he couldn’t stop you… because he knew if it were him in your shoes, he wouldn’t stay behind either.

The fight erupted fast. Flames, explosions, quirks flashing in the dark. You held your own as long as you could—until it hit.

Pain.

A sudden, sharp contraction that stole the breath from your lungs. You dropped to your knees behind the crates, gripping your abdomen with a shaky gasp.

No. Not now.

“Dabi!” your voice cracked, loud enough to pierce the chaos. He turned instantly, the moment burned into memory—his eyes wide, horror dawning.

You're in labor.

Everything else vanished for him. Enemies, plans, strategy—none of it mattered anymore. He bolted to your side, catching you as you doubled over, another wave of pain tearing through you.

“You weren’t supposed to—shit—okay, okay, breathe,” he muttered, voice unsteady for once, panic creeping into every word. “You’re early. Damn it.”

“I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

He lifted you easily, cradling you against his chest, heat rolling off his skin protectively. His own flames flared wildly around him, forming a vicious barrier between you and the heroes advancing.

“She’s out. She’s done. You come any closer, I burn you all to ash,” Dabi snarled.

One look in his eyes, and none of them dared take a step.

He carried you out through the smoke and ruin like a man possessed, whispering ragged reassurances as your contractions got closer, sharper, more intense. He’d never been so afraid in his life—and he’d never felt something burn hotter than the love he felt for you right then.

---

Awesome—let’s go with Parts 2 and 3: a mix of chaotic, emotional, and a bit romantic. Dabi ends up having to deliver the baby himself at a hideout. Here's the continuation:

---

The hideout was a dump—abandoned, half-burnt, and barely standing—but it was the only place close enough. Dabi kicked the door open, cursing under his breath as he laid you down on a grimy mattress. Your face was pale, sweat clinging to your forehead, eyes dazed from pain.

“This isn’t happening,” you gasped, gripping his coat with trembling fingers. “I can’t—I don’t know what to—”

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, voice sharp but trembling. “You’re doing this. You’re strong. You’ve always been. I’ve seen you tear through enemies like nothing. This? This is nothing compared to what you’ve survived.”

You nodded, tears sliding down your cheeks, your body wracked with another contraction.

Dabi ripped off his coat and laid it beneath you. He moved like someone on autopilot—heating up a towel with his flames to sterilize it, searching the place for clean-ish water and supplies.

He had no idea what he was doing. He was a villain, not a midwife. But watching you suffer? Listening to your cries of pain and fear? That broke something in him.

“I got you, baby. Just breathe for me. I’m right here.”

He knelt between your legs, your body shaking violently, and whispered every comforting word he could think of—even though his own hands trembled like hell.

And then he saw it.

“Oh, shit. I see the head.”

---

You screamed—raw, powerful, primal. And Dabi didn’t flinch. He caught your child in his scarred hands like something sacred, eyes wide with disbelief. His flames were nowhere to be seen now—just his soft breath, ragged and stunned as he wrapped the baby up in his shirt.

“It’s a girl,” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking in a way you’d never heard before.

You sobbed, partly from exhaustion, partly from overwhelming love—for the little life in his arms, and for the man kneeling beside you, the same man everyone called a monster.

Dabi leaned over and pressed his forehead to yours, his hand still shaking as he held the baby close.

“She’s got your nose,” he whispered. “Poor kid.”

You laughed weakly, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a kiss, your lips warm against his even in your drained state.

“Thanks for not setting the place on fire,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “I thought about it. But she’s kinda worth not burning the world down for.”

You looked up at him, your breath catching—not from pain this time, but from love.

“I want to name her Aiko,” you said softly.

Dabi blinked. “Love, huh?”

You nodded. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah… she’s got plenty of that now.”

---

Hours passed. You were asleep now—finally resting after everything your body had just been through. Your breath was even, your face peaceful in the dull light filtering through the cracked hideout window.

Dabi sat in the far corner, silent, still, cradling Aiko in his arms.

She was so small.

He held her like she was made of glass, terrified to even breathe too hard. His fingers—burnt, stitched, ruined—looked wrong against her smooth, perfect skin. But she didn’t seem to mind. She just blinked up at him, curious and calm.

“You’re not scared of me, huh?” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

She blinked again.

He gave a shaky laugh. “You will be. When you’re older. When they tell you stories about Dabi the killer. The villain. The monster.”

His smile faltered. His hands tightened around the blanket.

“But your mom… she’ll tell you the truth. She always sees the truth. Even when I couldn’t.”

Aiko squirmed and let out a tiny squeaky noise. Dabi instinctively rocked her—something he’d seen in movies, not something he’d ever practiced.

“Yeah, I know. Life’s gonna be rough. You’re a villain’s kid. Maybe a hero’s too, if she has anything to say about it.”

His voice dropped lower. “But I’m gonna protect you. You hear me?”

A single tear slid down his cheek—he hadn’t cried in years. Not for himself. Not even for his past.

But this was different.

“You’re the only thing I’ve ever done right.”

Aiko yawned, stretched her hand out, and wrapped her tiny fingers around one of his.

And in that moment, for the first time in forever… Dabi felt warm.

Not from his fire.

From her.

---

“Alright, what the actual hell is that?”

Twice was the first one through the door, tripping over his own feet as he pointed at the bundle in Dabi’s arms like it was a bomb. Toga peeked over his shoulder, wide-eyed and covered in someone else’s blood.

“Is that a baby? Did you kidnap a baby? Oh my god, Dabi, I love her already—wait, did you steal her?”

Dabi gave them both a withering look, eyes dark and tired, but there was no anger—just exhaustion.

“She’s mine,” he said simply.

Silence.

Shigaraki looked up from scratching his neck raw in the corner, narrowing his eyes. Spinner froze mid-sip of his canned drink. Compress blinked like someone in a stage play who forgot their line.

“…Yours?” Shigaraki repeated slowly, voice dry. “As in—you made that?”

“Yeah,” Dabi replied, glancing down at the little girl dozing in his arms. “With her.” He nodded toward the back room where you were still recovering.

Toga’s eyes widened like saucers. “You had a baby with the pretty girl with the knives?!”

“Yep.”

“I ship it.”

Twice clapped dramatically. “Dabi’s a dad! Oh god, we’re all going to die. In a cute way.”

Shigaraki stared at the baby like she was some kind of ticking time bomb. “Can it explode?”

“No,” Dabi growled.

“…yet,” Shigaraki muttered, turning away.

Toga was already at his side, peeking at Aiko with genuine awe. “She’s so tiny. You think she’ll have your quirk?”

“Hope not,” Dabi muttered. “Not mine.”

Spinner walked over, scratching his head. “So… does this mean you're, like, settling down? Changing diapers between missions?”

Dabi scoffed. “Hardly. I still burn people for a living. I just… go home after now.”

And weirdly, none of them argued. None of them mocked him. In fact, a strange sort of hush fell over the room—a rare peace.

Toga pulled out her knife and declared, “If anyone tries to hurt her, I’ll gut them.”

Dabi looked up, eyes soft. “Thanks.”

The League didn’t understand much about love or family. But they did understand loyalty. And chaos. And revenge. So protecting a tiny, flame-born baby girl?

That… they could get behind

---

It was 3:14 a.m.

Dabi sat cross-legged on the floor of the hideout, shirtless, hair sticking up in every direction, dark circles under his eyes even darker than usual. Aiko was screaming like the world was ending, her tiny face bright red, and her little fists flailing like she was throwing punches at fate itself.

He stared at her. Then at the diaper. Then back at her.

“…I’ve blown up buildings with less stress than this.”

You groaned from the cot behind him, too sore and sleep-deprived to move. “You said you had it,” you mumbled.

“I did have it. Then she peed in my eye.”

Another wail came from Aiko, and Dabi winced like someone had shoved a knife in his ribs.

“Alright, alright, damn, we’re doing this.”

He opened a fresh diaper like it was an enemy he was about to fight. He glanced at the old one, holding it between two fingers like it might explode. “You’re lucky I love you, you little gremlin.”

You snorted.

After a solid three minutes of muttering threats at the diaper, several almost burns, and at least one moment where he looked genuinely afraid of baby wipes, Dabi somehow managed to get the new one on—crooked, but on.

Aiko immediately stopped crying.

She looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, hiccupped… and smiled.

He froze.

And for the first time in a long, long time… he smiled back.

“Okay. That was almost worth the trauma.”

He picked her up carefully, resting her tiny head against his chest. She nuzzled into his warm skin, calm now, soothed by the steady beat of his heart and the low hum of his fire.

“You’re gonna wreck me, aren’t you?” he whispered.

She gave a sleepy sigh.

“…Good. I probably deserve it.”

---

Dabi was dozing on the couch, shirtless, as usual. Aiko was perched on his chest like a sleepy little loaf, fists curled, head tucked under his jaw.

It was peaceful. Soft crackling from the fireplace. Your gentle humming in the background as you cleaned up.

And then—CHOMP.

“OW—what the hell!?”

Dabi sat up with a startled yelp, eyes wide, clutching his neck. Aiko blinked at him, innocent as ever… mouth smeared with drool and the tiniest red mark forming on his collarbone.

You leaned over, squinting.

“Is that… a hickey?”

Dabi stared at the baby. Then at you. Then back at the baby.

“She just—bit me. And sucked on my skin like some tiny mosquito demon.”

You lost it, laughing so hard you nearly dropped the bottle in your hand. “You got your first dad hickey. Officially initiated.”

“I burn people for fun, and this is what takes me out?”

Just then, Toga popped her head into the room—saw the mark on his neck and immediately let out a wolf whistle.

“Well, well, Dabi! Didn’t know you were into neck stuff.”

“It’s from the baby,” he growled.

“Sure it is,” she sang, winking.

By the time the rest of the League caught wind, rumors had spread.

Twice: “Dabi’s into bite play confirmed.”

Shigaraki: “Ew. Stop breeding.”

Spinner: “Should we get her teething rings or garlic and holy water?”

Dabi groaned, covering the mark with his hand.

But later that night, when it was just the three of you again, he looked at it in the mirror. The little bruise, round and oddly perfect. It hurt like hell.

And somehow… he loved it.

“She’s already leaving scars,” he muttered, tracing the spot with a smile. “Just like her mom.”

---

It started small.

You were feeding Aiko one afternoon—just you, her, and the peaceful hum of the hideout. You offered her a spoonful of mashed carrots with the usual sweet smile.

“Here comes the airplane—”

She stared at you. Then slapped the spoon clean out of your hand.

“…Excuse me?”

From the other room, Dabi laughed. “That’s my girl.”

You glared. “Don’t encourage her.”

But it only got worse.

Later that day, you tried again—with applesauce this time.

“No, Aiko. We don’t throw food.”

Aiko looked you dead in the eye and mumbled something that sounded a lot like:

“Sh’t.”

You froze.

“…What did you just say?”

From the couch, Dabi shouted, “What did she say?!”

“She said your favorite word.”

Dabi came striding in, picking her up with this massive, proud smirk on his face. “No way. Say it again, squirt.”

Aiko grinned. “Sh’t.”

You palmed your face. “Dabi, stop smiling.”

“I’m not! I’m—okay yeah, I am. But c’mon, listen to the attitude on her. She's feral.”

“Oh my god.”

It didn’t stop there.

By the end of the week, she had a whole little sass vocabulary going:

Glares when someone touches her snacks.

Mimics Dabi’s sighs perfectly.

Says “bruh” when her bottle falls.

And, most dangerously of all—the eye roll.

Toga was obsessed.

“She’s a tiny Dabi! But cuter. And less murder-y.”

Twice tried teaching her to say “Boom, baby!” after every fart. It worked. Too well.

Shigaraki banned her from the meeting room after she threw a pacifier at him mid-rant.

Dabi? He was beaming the entire time.

“Kid’s got fire,” he said proudly, arms crossed, scarred lip curled in a grin. “Just like her old man.”

You gave him a side-eye. “If she starts setting stuff on fire next week, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

(You both secretly loved it.)

---

It was raining.

Not the hard, violent kind that matched Dabi’s mood—just a steady drizzle outside the hideout, mist curling over cracked windows. You were curled up with a blanket, half-asleep, watching Aiko crawl around the dusty floor, babbling nonsense to herself.

Dabi leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, just watching her. He did that a lot these days—quiet, present in a way he never used to be.

Aiko picked up one of his gloves from the floor. Turned it over in her hands. Dropped it. Then looked up at him.

And said it.

“Dada.”

Silence.

The rain didn’t stop. The wind didn’t pause. But something in Dabi broke.

You sat up instantly. “Wait—did she just—?”

He didn’t move. His face had gone still, unreadable. Only his eyes gave it away—wide, full of something between shock and something too tender to name.

Aiko smiled at him like it was no big deal.

“Dada.”

Dabi walked over slowly. Dropped to his knees in front of her. She touched his cheek—right where the staples met burned skin—and giggled.

“Dada.”

He laughed. Just once. Rough, soft, stunned.

“Yeah, kid,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “That’s me.”

He pulled her close—not tight, just enough to tuck his chin over her tiny head.

You watched from the couch, a hand over your mouth, heart about to explode.

He’d been called a lot of things.

Villain. Monster. Traitor. Burner. Killer.

But Dada?

That one might’ve saved him.

---

The night was quieter than usual. The storm outside had finally slowed to a gentle patter, and the hideout was filled with nothing but the occasional crackling from the fireplace. The warmth of the flames danced across the walls, casting shadows as Dabi sat on the couch, Aiko nestled against him.

She was asleep now, her small chest rising and falling in that peaceful rhythm that made even the toughest villains pause. Dabi’s hand rested lightly on her back, the familiar weight of responsibility and love settling in his bones.

You were asleep in the other room, exhausted from the day’s chaos, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Dabi had nothing but time.

His eyes traced the small curve of Aiko’s face—so serene, so full of life. She was perfect. His daughter. His kid. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but so right.

He hadn't realized how much he needed this—this quiet, this peace, this tiny human who somehow softened everything he’d built himself into.

Carefully, Dabi let his fingers run through Aiko’s soft hair. He didn’t even think about it—he just did it. A tender motion, a simple gesture he could barely believe he was capable of.

Then, he started humming.

It was the song you always hummed to her when she was fussy, the tune that seemed to calm her every time. A melody so soft, so gentle, it made him forget the past for a moment and just exist in the now.

Aiko stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her little hand gripping the edge of his shirt as she snuggled closer. The soft sound of her breath filled the room, the night settling in deeper.

Dabi kept humming. His voice was low and unsteady, like a fire that only flickered, but in that moment, it was full of warmth—like he was finally allowing himself to feel everything he’d kept buried for so long.

He wasn’t a perfect father. Hell, he didn’t even know if he was a good one. But right now, as Aiko slept soundly in his arms, her tiny body rising and falling with each breath, he felt something he hadn’t in years—something like peace.

Aiko shifted again, this time her tiny mouth curling into a soft smile in her sleep, as if she felt the rhythm of his heart. He kissed the top of her head, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you, kid.”

He said it so quietly, like it was something sacred, something only meant for her to hear.

And maybe she did. Maybe she always would.

"Operation: Loopy"

You were a strong, independent aspiring hero. You’d faced villains, explosions, and Bakugo’s screaming. But none of that prepared you for the wildest opponent yet…

…a wisdom tooth extraction.

You blinked awake, mouth stuffed with gauze, brain foggy, and vision blurry. The fluorescent lights above you hummed like a villain’s theme music. Was this Tartarus?

“She lives!” a dramatic voice shouted. That was—oh god—Denki Kaminari, filming you on his phone.

“GET THAT CAMERA OUTTA MY EYE SOCKET!” you bellowed. Or at least, you thought you bellowed. It came out more like: “Geff dat camma outta my faysalkit.”

Mina popped into view, laughing hysterically. “Girl, you sound like you’re summoning demons!”

You tried to sit up. “Iz dis… is dis my quirk? Am I… a duck?”

“Honestly? Maybe,” said Kirishima, gently pushing you back down. “You’re being super unbreakable right now, though. Respect.”

You squinted at him. “You got… rocks for skin. Are you okay? Like emotionally?”

“Wow, even under anesthesia, she checks in on us,” Tsuyu said calmly from the foot of the bed. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“I love all of you,” you mumbled dramatically, reaching for Todoroki’s face. “Especially you, Mr. Ice-and-Fire Cream Sandwich…”

“…I’m gonna pretend that was a compliment,” Todoroki muttered, letting you poke his cheek with your numb finger.

Bakugo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, muttered, “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s a disaster.”

You gasped. “You take that back, Kacchan! I’m a beautiful disaster.”

The gauze puff in your mouth fell out mid-monologue and Denki nearly dropped his phone laughing. “We’re keeping that. That's going in the group chat AND your graduation video.”

Finally, the nurse arrived to check on you, only for you to gasp and shout, “WAIT. AM I STILL A DUCK?!”

“No, sweetie. You're not a duck.”

“...Disappointing.”

Question would you do a class 1-b of the explosive love or is it truly over? (my lungs have been full of laughter from it all)

Explosive Love: Part 7 – Class 1-B’s Babysitting Disaster

A/n, I added jiro bc, why not🫡

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Class 1-B and Their Unique Babysitting Experience

Genre: Chaos, Crack Comedy, Baby Gas Wars

Summary: After hearing about the legendary struggles of Class 1-A, Class 1-B believes they can handle things way better. They don’t need a plan—just confidence. Spoiler: They were wrong. Very, very wrong.

---

“We’ve got this!”

Kendo, confident as ever, waved her hand as she stared at the baby in Kirishima’s arms. “Class 1-B doesn’t need a fancy strategy. We’re heroes in training. This is nothing!”

Tetsutetsu pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah! We’re tough enough to handle anything!”

“You guys sure about this?” you asked, looking at your baby, who was already cooing and glaring in their direction.

“Totally! We’ve got teamwork! We’ve got brains!” Kendo grinned, a little too widely. “Let’s do this!”

Kirishima turned to you and whispered, “Should we warn them?”

You shook your head. “Let them learn the hard way. We survived this chaos. They will, too.”

---

T+5 Minutes:

The plan was simple: Kendo would handle the baby while the others prepared snacks and games.

“Alright, little one!” Kendo smiled down at the baby. “Ready for a fun day?”

The baby gurgled and farted.

“Hmm,” Kendo raised an eyebrow, but she pressed on. “That’s a little... unexpected. No biggie, though.”

PFFFT.

The others exchanged nervous glances.

“That was... powerful,” Ibara murmured.

Kendo, ever the optimist, ignored the baby’s warning signs and decided to try a gentle lullaby. “Hush little baby...”

PHBRRRTT.

Kendo paused, her smile faltering.

“That one had vibration,” Ibara noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay,” Kendo said, trying to keep her cool. “Maybe she’s just gassy. No big deal. Just... relax.”

---

T+12 Minutes:

The whole team was huddled in the living room now. Kendo was still holding the baby, though the team had taken up defensive positions.

Manga began sketching diagrams of escape routes. “I think we need a plan B... and C... and maybe D.”

Tetsutetsu, trying to impress, stood by with a bottle of milk. “Maybe this will help calm her down! I’ve got this!”

The baby eyed him suspiciously.

PFFFT.

Tetsutetsu jumped back like he’d been hit by a rocket. “WHAT THE HELL?!” he yelped, clutching the bottle like a shield.

Kendo sighed. “Okay. So, we’re not handling this as smoothly as I thought.”

---

T+22 Minutes:

Jurota was in charge of distracting the baby with toys while Kendo attempted a strategic diaper change.

“Jurota, you’ve got this, right?” Kendo asked, holding up a toy rattle. “She’s really into sound, so just—”

Before she could finish, the baby farted again. This time, it was a long one.

Jurota, who had been holding the rattle, dropped it and quickly backed away.

“I didn’t sign up for this! I thought it was just a normal baby!” Jurota cried, his face pale.

“I swear she’s aiming for me,” Tetsutetsu shouted from behind the couch. “I feel the pressure!”

---

T+35 Minutes:

The room was now a war zone.

Kendo, the ever-hopeful leader, was sweating. “We need to regroup,” she muttered. “We need... We need a strategic intervention!”

The baby, sensing weakness, let loose.

PFFFT

PBRRRRTTT

PBBT-TSSSSSS...

Kendo held her hands up. “Okay! We need a team effort! Shoji, you try distracting her with your extra arms. Ibara, you handle the snacks. Jurota, keep it together!”

Ibara carefully arranged some snacks. “I don’t think snacks are going to help this situation.”

“I’m gonna pass out,” Jurota groaned. “Is she cursed? Is this a curse?!”

Meanwhile, Jiro was completely overwhelmed. “Guys, I don’t have a soundproof speaker for this level of... chaos.”

Manga finally gave up and wrote: “Subject: baby. Threat Level: Explosive.”

---

T+45 Minutes:

Kendo had lost all hope.

“I’m sorry, I was too optimistic,” she muttered.

The baby looked up at her with big, innocent eyes and let out one final, massive fart.

Everyone in the room flinched.

“THAT’S IT! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Tetsutetsu yelled, running toward the door. “THIS IS HELL!”

“We... we didn’t even try the baby wipes,” Kendo said softly, defeated.

---

Final Tally:

Kendo: Crushed by baby gas.

Tetsutetsu: Traumatized and refuses to even look at a bottle.

Manga: Analyzed the situation, concluded they had all made a terrible mistake.

Shoji: Vowed never to babysit again.

Jurota: Physically and emotionally drained.

Ibara: Retired from all babysitting duties.

Jiro: Still recovering from the sonic levels of flatulence.

Momo: Watching from the sidelines, unaffected, with a notebook full of new inventions for future diaper duty.

---

When you and Kirishima returned, you found Class 1-B sprawled on the floor, completely broken.

Kendo weakly raised a hand. “She’s... a powerhouse.”

“She’s a menace,” Tetsutetsu whimpered.

“And we’re never doing this again,” Manga finished, his face still pale.

The baby, in your arms, giggled.

Kirishima smiled warmly, “Good job, everyone! It’s a learning experience!”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s never do this again.”

“Attack of the Morning Hair: Y/N vs. Gravity”

Or: The Day Her Hair Committed a War Crime

---

It started like any other peaceful morning in the UA dorms. Birds were chirping. Kaminari was already screaming because he shocked himself trying to toast bread. The usual.

Then came her.

The common room door swung open with the force of divine judgment, and in stumbled Y/N — half-asleep, wearing oversized socks, a hoodie that probably wasn’t hers (possibly Aizawa’s??), and…

Her. Hair.

Complete chaos.

Her bangs were standing completely straight up, like they’d seen something horrifying and never recovered. The rest of her long hair was sticking out in every direction, defying physics like it had just fought off a tornado and won.

It wasn’t just messy.

It was sentient.

Sero spat out his cereal. “WHAT IN THE—are you okay?!”

Y/N blinked, bleary-eyed, gripping a mug with nothing in it.

“…No.”

Bakugo actually paused mid-toast-chewing. “The hell happened to you?”

“I slept wrong.”

“That’s not sleep. That’s a spiritual possession,” Jirou muttered, genuinely concerned.

Todoroki tilted his head. “Is it supposed to… be like that?”

Y/N scratched her head, making it worse. A piece of hair slapped her in the face. “I don’t know. It was normal last night. Then I woke up and looked in the mirror and it was like—”

She held up her mug like a Shakespearean actor.

“—I HAVE SEEN THINGS. I HAVE BEEN THROUGH BATTLES.”

Mina was wheezing. “Girl, your bangs are standing straighter than Iida’s moral compass.”

“I thought it was a bird nest at first,” Kaminari whispered to Kirishima. “I almost offered her sunflower seeds.”

Midoriya approached gently, like she might explode. “D-Do you want help detangling it?”

“I think it’s sentient now,” Y/N muttered. “If you touch it, it might bite.”

“I bet Present Mic’s hair bowed in respect when it saw yours,” Sero added.

Y/N slowly turned her head, her bangs refusing to move like a stiff wind couldn’t touch them. “They said if your hair touches the ceiling, it’s good luck.”

Momo was trying not to laugh but failed. “What ceiling? You’ve breached airspace. You’re legally an aircraft.”

Then—Midnight walked in.

She stopped in her tracks. Stared. Then, with the most serious voice she could manage:

“…You look like the final boss of a shampoo commercial gone wrong.”

Y/N raised one eyebrow. “Or the main character of an edgy anime where my quirk is just being really dramatic.”

“Name it,” Kaminari begged. “Name the anime.”

“‘Frizz: The Reckoning.’”

Bakugo started laughing so hard he had to turn around. “I take it back. You’re not a villain. You’re just unholy.”

“Should I put it in a bun?” Y/N asked, attempting to gather the chaos.

“No,” Todoroki said immediately. “You should document this. Scientists need to study it.”

---

One Hour Later…

Her hair was finally tamed with the combined effort of Momo’s entire salon set, six clips, three bobby pins, and a prayer.

But the legend lived on.

A photo of “Morning Y/N” became the new meme in Class 1-A’s group chat, complete with captions like:

“Quirk: Bedhead Beast Mode”

“Power level: Over 9000 follicles of fury”

“Local teen scares away villains with sheer hair volume”

“Bakugo’s explosions fear HER now”

---

The End…?

(Or is the hair still out there… waiting… rising again at the next 7AM wakeup call?)

"Secret’s Out"

Edgeshot prided himself on precision—both in the field and in life. He had slipped in and out of the hospital with the skill only the #4 Pro Hero could muster, careful not to attract attention. The media didn’t know. The commission didn’t know. Not even his closest colleagues.

And that’s how he liked it.

This was his peace—his sanctuary with you and your newborn son. And he wasn’t ready to share that with the chaos of the hero world.

Unfortunately, fate—and Present Mic’s big mouth—had other plans.

---

It started innocently enough. A casual patrol meeting at the agency. The usual crew—Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist, Hawks, and of course, Present Mic—sat around the table throwing back caffeine like it was oxygen.

Edgeshot stood at the edge, arms folded, face unreadable as always. Calm. Controlled.

Until Hawks strolled in late, twirling a familiar beanie in his hand.

"Yo, Shinya," Hawks said with a smirk, holding up the tiny gray hat with a small embroidered duck. "You, uh, drop this?"

Time stopped.

Edgeshot's eyes flicked to the beanie. His son’s beanie.

"...Where did you get that?" he asked, voice perfectly flat.

"I was flying by the hospital yesterday. Saw a nurse wave it around outside the window. Said someone left it. Had a tag inside that said ‘Shin Jr.’," Hawks said with an exaggerated shrug. "Figured it was a sidekick or... surprise, surprise?"

The room went silent.

Then:

"No way," Mirko laughed, sitting up straight. "Edgeshot has a baby?!"

Best Jeanist narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm... That would explain the recent increase in tactical leave. And the softer demeanor."

"You’ve been smiling lately," Endeavor grumbled, clearly offended by the idea of anyone having joy.

Present Mic practically leapt out of his chair. "OH MY GOD, SHINYA'S A DAD?!" he howled. "WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?!"

Edgeshot, surrounded and betrayed by a single forgotten beanie, let out a long sigh through his nose.

"...Yes," he said quietly. "I have a son. His name is Ren. And I’d prefer to keep it private."

The teasing exploded instantly.

"Uncle Jeanist has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?" Jeanist mused.

"I CALL GODMOTHER!" Mirko yelled, punching the air.

"Does he have wings like me?" Hawks teased, tossing the beanie back.

Present Mic was already brainstorming a baby shower playlist.

Edgeshot stared into the middle distance, wondering if he could sew his vocal cords into a noose.

---

Later that night, he returned home, your baby curled peacefully on his chest as he recounted the day’s chaos.

"They know now," he murmured to you, gently stroking your son’s head.

You laughed softly, brushing hair from his face. "You knew they’d find out eventually."

"I was hoping for at least six months," he said with mock despair. "Now Jeanist’s talking about matching denim for toddlers."

You snorted. "Better than Endeavor suggesting fireproof diapers."

He smiled—soft and small—and leaned his head against yours. In the background, your son stirred and sighed, clutching the edge of Edgeshot’s hero cape like it was his whole world.

Let them tease. Let them laugh.

Because now they knew exactly what he was fighting for.

"Coughing Crisis: A Heroic Interruption"

It was one of those days at U.A. High.

Everyone was gathered in the common room, the mood grim. Aizawa had just finished debriefing the students on a potential new threat—some villain group with a name so edgy it sounded like they were formed in a Hot Topic parking lot.

All Might stood solemnly, arms crossed. "This is no joke. The League of Villains may be making a comeback."

Bakugo scowled. "Tch. Let 'em try. I'll blow 'em to hell."

Midoriya was furiously scribbling notes, mumbling strategy ideas. Todoroki looked like he was calculating the villain’s power levels with sheer brainwaves. Even Kaminari was managing to look serious for once.

Then, just as the room hit peak intensity—

"KHHHHHHHHHH–KAHHHHHHHH–HHHKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Everyone's heads whipped around.

It was you. Red-faced. Eyes wide. Wheezing. Coughing. Dying, possibly.

"OH MY GOD SHE’S CHOKING!" Mina screamed, knocking over a chair in her rush.

"I'm not trained for this!" Kaminari panicked, spinning in a circle like a confused Roomba.

Bakugo: "SOMEONE GET HER A DAMN WATER BEFORE SHE ASPHYXIATES AND DIES IN THE MIDDLE OF A STRATEGY BRIEFING!"

Midoriya already had a water bottle in your mouth and was nervously patting your back with the intensity of a malfunctioning massage chair. "Are you okay?! Do you need—wait, what's your quirk again? Can it fix this?! No, wait, that's not how lungs work—"

"I—I just—" you gasped between coughs, one hand in the air like you were accepting an Oscar. "I inhaled a chip wrong."

There was silence. Like, dead silence.

Then Kirishima, voice full of genuine awe: "Damn. She really said 'crunch' and almost flatlined."

Bakugo facepalmed so hard it echoed. "We're out here trying to save the world and this extra’s getting taken down by a Lays."

All Might turned away and coughed into his hand to hide his laugh. It didn’t work. Present Mic wasn’t even hiding it—he was already on the floor, crying.

You gave a thumbs up with one hand, the other still clutching your water bottle like it was your emotional support beverage. "Still alive. Kinda."

Todoroki blinked. “That was the most dramatic thing I’ve seen all week. And I watched Bakugo punch a microwave.”

“IT SHORT-CIRCUITED FIRST!” Bakugo yelled.

---

And from that day forward, every time there was a serious meeting, someone made sure to have water on hand.

You, the girl who lived through The Chip Incident, had earned your spot among heroes.

But also maybe needed to chew more carefully.

|| X: What hurts you the most when you draw that oc you make Afo's daughter?? ||

|| Me: The fact that even if the face came out super beautiful I have to erase a part of it because the hair goes through that area... ||

Bitch, Literally me rn:

|| X: Hey, if [Part 0], [The beginning], [Part 1] and [Part 2] from your story/au was told from your oc perspective, how would it sound? ||

|| Me: Like this: ||

|| Many things happened to this girl (and yes, she had black hair, but the more she grew and developed her quirk, the more her father's genetics appeared, that is, All For One and his white ass hair, at least she has hair like inko) ||

|| As a bonus, take this little draw of my oc and her brother :D ||

|| X: Oh so your oc was kidnapped for 12 years, does that mean you made the heroes save her or something? ||

|| Me: Nope :D ||

|| When I tell you that nobody save this girl's ass, I tell you, NOBODY DID. And that goes for all the other children/teenagers/young adults who were with her, they saved themselves and I made some die trying to reach their freedom. 🤷 ||

|| More about my au, this is after the sports festival ||

|| So, yes, Kumika love(d)s her dad but when he didn't let her go with Inko and Izuku, she got upset with him (and when the Kamino thing happened even more) ||

|| Introducing the version with backgrounds and the now 15/16 year old (very alive) Tsubasa! ||

|| Hey, do you remember Princess Bubblegum and Finn the Human's relationship? Or Dipper and Wendy's relationship? Well... Just... Yeah. ||

|| P.S: Also, I'm referring to this kid, this is Tsubasa on the manga and anime. ||

|| DAMN HORIKOSHI, WHY DID YOU HIDE THIS DIVA?!?!?! ||

(Insert Oc)

|| Ok, since almost no one sees my Tumblr (and since almost no one sees my Wattpad story ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ) I think it's okay to share a future scene from my story here! ||

(Also, I haven't made a post since November, (literally since last year), so I have to post something to keep the account from dying-)

↑ Reference used in the drawing here! ↑

|| DAMN HORIKOSHI, WHY DID YOU HIDE THIS DIVA?!?!?! ||

(Insert Oc)

|| Ok, since almost no one sees my Tumblr (and since almost no one sees my Wattpad story ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ) I think it's okay to share a future scene from my story here! ||

(Also, I haven't made a post since November, (literally since last year), so I have to post something to keep the account from dying-)

↑ Reference used in the drawing here! ↑

|| Okay people, new plan, I broke my hand making the comic and I have a headache, so I decided to make a fanfic on Wattpad instead ||

|| The fanfic is called: “El Prisionero de Alas Rojas” ||

|| I did it in Spanish because it's my first language ||

|| I'm just gonna- ||

|| I'm going to make a mini comic with more of the AU's story ||

|| I'm going to call it "Memories" ||

|| Yes, why not? ||

((The first comic only got one like, but I don't give a shit, I'm already into this, there is no turning back for me anymore.))

// A Little Comic with Essential Information about my AU! //

|| In my defense ||

1) I had to use gacha because it would be a torture to do this on a draw (And Idk how to draw well-)

2) I already had the ocs done there

((P.S: I'll be adding more stuff about all the characters and the story of the AU! But please be patient with me!))

((P.S.S: I am very clear that my protagonist would hit me badly for everything I put her through-))

{Bonus Meme from my own original story!}

Edit: ((P.S.S.S: The AU focuses a LOT on Kumika and Tsubasa, and everything they had to go through in the process to escape from the "Daycare", but there is interaction with All For One, just a little later-))

|| IMPORTANT QUESTION HERE ||

|| Should I put my AU DFO here?? ||

|| it's just that I always keep these things to myself and it embarrasses me to share them anywhere, MORE if it is on social media ||

|| Idk, it's just- My autism is controlling me help- ||

|| If you look closely ||

|| The one that's probably Inko's is white, while Izuku's is a combination! ||

|| In its entirety, is white, yes, but it has black spots, representing Hisashi/Afo ||

Three umbrellas (theory)

(Maybe it's a silly theory)

The three umbrellas were there from the beginning.

But their style has changed.

That style of umbrellas could also be related if the end of mha is really Izuku's imagination or illusion.

Either Horikoshi did it on purpose or he forgot what umbrellas he drew at the beginning of the manga. (But he didn't forget that there were three umbrellas here.)

If I focus on the dfo theory, the black umbrella would definitely belong to the AFO.

The handle of the umbrella agrees.

However, in the manga, the umbrella looks gray and not exactly black. But in the anime, the umbrella is black.

And by the time Afo found Tenko, surely ''Hisashi'' was still present with his family.

What do you think?

|| Sometimes this part of the fandom reminds me of the oldroot fandom, because we found a million things that no one else notices HAHA- ||

I just tried to look something up and look what I found in Izuku's eye. It either means something or it's just stupid.😅😂

It reminds me of a skull...

But maybe that's really stupid. Don't take me seriously!

It's just my imagination playing tricks on me! 😅

But it's scary...

@diospore @mallas28 @tengoku-izumi @donkeys-waffles @vam1mav @huiiiooo

|| You know what? A few years ago when I was just entering the Bnha/mha fandom I thought something like: If there were someone with a quirk who created other quirks (and government left them alive), the only thing I want is for that person to say something like: "I don't want to be a hero or villain, lots of drama, I want to be a florist." It would be hilarious haha ||

|| NAAHHH THIS IS WILD, I LOVE IT. ||

HORIKOSHI YOU ARE A DAMN GENIUS!!!

Izuku said He Feels at Ease When Someone Holds His Hand.

Now we know that All for One is a Quirk capable of stealing or copying other Quirks and transferring them to whoever he wants or keeping them and using them if the user wants and we also know that he gave his supposedly Quirkless brother a gift of power accumulation… ok? Well that's when I saw this…

"Just holding hands soothes the heart."

Izuku says again that the simple act of holding hands calms the heart because it works for him, holding hands with his friends calms him down and makes him feel good.

Well, so far so good.

That's where THIS comes in…

It is then that Izuku can somehow feel the embers rekindling.

When his other friends arrive, Kacchan walks in and asks Izuku about the embers... "They flew you over here, but… are the embers okay?"

To which Izuku replies "Yeah" Because yes, the embers are so good that they burn again... And no, it was not the "Magic of Friendship" nor the "Power of Love" nor the "Izuocha"

then I was like...

Naniiiii? But what the hell happened here?! and I remembered the following...

Yeap! Izuku's hands in volume 417, and that's when it occurred to me that what a fucking genius Horikoshi-sensei is.

Well, now we all know that AFO steals quirks by touching his victims with his hands due to the holes in them that seem to absorb said quirks, right? ok, have you figured out where I'm going?… AFO is Izuku's father! YES!

So even though here it doesn't look like Izuku has the same holes as AFO, there does seem to be light in what would appear to be said holes, but that's because instead of absorbing Quirks, Izuku only absorbs energy, like the Quirk that AFO imposed on his brother stores energy and like AFO absorbs said power! So if when Izuku touched Uraraka's hand he absorbed part of the power of her quirk to revive the embers, wouldn't that mean that Izuku inherited AFO's mutated quirk somehow? Well you can say that Izuku would need the holes to absorb the power but do we remember what his mother Inko's quirk is? Attraction of small objects and she uses the movement of her hands to attract them, so if we add both quirks Izuku wouldn't need the holes, it would be a combination, and he would attract the power of the quirks just by putting his hands on people. And again you could refute me, "But Izuku has touched a lot of people with his hands" and I'll answer, Yes, but he was wearing gloves and it seems like he only activated his quirk recently in volume 417 of the manga by the looks of it since it's the first time those lights appeared on his BARE hands WITHOUT gloves, so Horikoshi, you damn genius, is this your way of revealing Dad For One in a plot twist at the end of the manga? Or am I just overthinking it?! Whatever it is, I'm happily sticking with this DFO theory!

|| Awww Damn, all my theories were wrong (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠) ||