*He hated support meetings.* *Too many people talking. Too many idiots pretending they understood combat because they could build gadgets in a lab.* *So when he got called into the support division after destroying another pair of gauntlets during patrol, he was already irritated.* “The cooling system failed because you overworked the ignition points,” *one technician explained nervously.* “No,” *he snapped.* “It failed because you made weak crap.” *Silence filled the room.* *Then came a voice from the back.* “No,” *she said calmly.* “It failed because the pressure vents were designed for your actual combat output instead of the average.” *He turned.* *She stood near one of the worktables in an oversized white coat, holographic schematics floating beside her tablet. She didn’t look intimidated.* *Actually, she looked annoyed with him.* *That was new.* “Your explosions spike when your adrenaline rises,” *she continued.* “Whoever designed this compensator was stupid.” *He blinked.* *Then laughed.* *Finally.* *Someone with a damn brain.* *From that day on, she became the only support scientist he trusted touching his gear.* *Not that he made it easy for her.* “These gloves are garbage.” “You said that about the last six prototypes.” “Because they were.” “You blew up three during testing.” “Skill issue.” “You are the skill issue.” *He stared at her for five whole seconds before laughing so hard he nearly fell backward.* *Somewhere between midnight redesign sessions and emergency repairs after missions, he realized he looked for her first every time he entered the agency.* *He noticed everything.* *The way she chewed on her pen while thinking.* *How her eyes lit up whenever a prototype worked.* *How she shoved her glasses up with her wrist when her hands were dirty.* *And worst of all?* *She wasn’t scared of him.* *Not once.* *He fell hard.* *Fast too.* ——————————☆—————————— *Years later, she told him she was pregnant.* *His brain stopped working entirely.* “You’re joking,” *he said weakly.* “I’m not.” *Then he pulled her into his arms so fast she yelped at him for being reckless.* *After that, he cried.* *Quietly.* *Face buried against her shoulder while holding her like she might disappear.* *Because suddenly he wasn’t just a Pro Hero anymore.* *He was somebody’s husband.* *Somebody’s future father.* *And that terrified him more than any villain ever had.* *Not because he didn’t want it.* *Because he wanted it too much.* ——————————☆—————————— *Now, seven months later, he was downstairs in the reinforced basement gym trying to burn the restless energy out of his system.* *Explosions thundered against the concrete walls.* *Sweat slid down his temple as another blast erupted from his palms hard enough to shake the ceiling.* *Again.* *Blast.* *Turn.* *Blast.* *Faster.* *Harder.* *But his attention kept drifting upstairs.* *To her.* *Every damn time.* “You’re distracted.” *Her voice floated down the staircase softly.* *He turned too quickly, crimson eyes locking onto her instantly.* *His chest tightened painfully.* *God, she was beautiful.* *Especially now.* *She wore one of his old hoodies over comfortable shorts, one hand resting beneath the curve of her stomach while the other carried a tablet.* *Unfairly perfect.* “Tch,” *he muttered immediately.* “You shouldn’t be down here.” “You reinforced this basement to survive your explosions,” *she replied.* “I think I’ll survive sitting in the corner.” *He clicked his tongue and grabbed the water bottle from her hands before she could carry it herself.* “I could hold that.” “Yeah? And you can blast through concrete. Doesn’t mean you should do it every second.” *She laughed softly.* *Victory.* *Still his favorite sound in the world.* *He guided her carefully toward the padded bench, one hand hovering near her lower back the entire time.* “You’ve become overprotective,” *she teased.* “I’ve become smart.” “You threatened a microwave because it beeped too loudly near me.” “It sounded aggressive.” *That made her laugh harder.* *Damn it.* *He loved making her laugh.* “You should sit with me for a minute,” *she said quietly.* *His first instinct was to refuse.* *Training mattered.* *Protecting them mattered.* *But then she reached for him.* *And Katsuki Bakugo had never been capable of denying her anything she truly wanted.* *Tch. Fine.* *He sat beside her carefully while she leaned against him.* *Then the baby kicked beneath his hand.* *He froze instantly.* *Every single time it happened, it completely destroyed him.* “There,” *she whispered softly.* “They always get active when they hear you training.” *He stared at her stomach like it held the secrets of the universe before lowering his forehead gently against it.* “Oi,” *he muttered toward the bump.* “Stop giving your mom a hard time.” *Another kick answered him.* *She burst into laughter.* “It’s not funny,” *he grumbled.* “You’re talking to my stomach.” “It’s my kid too, dumbass.” *The words slipped out naturally.* *Possessive.* *Protective.* *Certain.* *He wrapped one arm around her shoulders carefully, pulling her closer while resting his other hand over her stomach.* *For once, the basement was quiet.* *No explosions.* *No pressure.* *Just his wife in his arms and the tiny future they created together.* “Go back to training,”*she said quietly.*“I like watching you.”

*He's a alpha. You're a girl, You're omega but he always think you're a beta. Because you always used pheromone blocker.* *you both were on patrol when you both smelled a lot of alpha pheromones coming from a bar which overwhelmed you as you fell to your knee confusing and shocking him as you tried to help you up trying to figure out what was going on.* Hey are you okay? *bends down to help you up.*

*You once was able to see... But what about now? Well, you're blind, but not because malformation. It's your mother's fault. Not your father, well, in part yes, but not physically. He made your mother turn psycho, literally. So, when she saw you, with that left side of yours that can use fire just like your father... She saw him in you... And she snapped. Of course, your father, who made her became crazy, sent her in psychiatric hospital even though he's the one who made her like she is. Before this, she was always trying protect you and your siblings from your father's be@tings.* *That's how you became blind. She used her ice Quirk on your left eye, though when your father arrived she slipped and it also spiked in your other eye. So, you're unable to see anything since that day, and you're constantly wearing bandages around your eyes. Your twin, Shoto, he just had a burn on his left eye that your mother did. She used boiling water. He's lucky, he can still see with his two eyes, even the one covered by a burn scar that you'll never see.* *Somehow, you managed to be able of controlling your Quirk without seeing it. As if you felt it, the spots where to enflame, to send sparks of ice, it was like a 6th sense. And so, you managed to enter at U.A. it was probably due to you're motivation about gaining your father's approval or even just an acknowledgement. Though, once you enter, the principal of the elite school, Mr. Nezu, stops you with his little paw.* Principal Nezu: "I'm sorry, er..." *He stop and look at you, expecting you to say you're name, but you don't see his expecting look, since you're blind. So, he continue.* "But you can't hide your face in the school, no exceptions. You'd have to retire your bandage," *He trails off again, with that soft smile, still looking at you expectant to hear your first and last name.*

*Dabi would be in a dark alley, leaning against the wall, he takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one using his quirk and starts smoking* "hmm..."

*The call started and Aizawa was asleep on his couch. The class immediately was confused but then laughed.*

The classroom door opens, and the moment you walk in—everything shifts. Mina: SHE’S HERE!! 💖 Mina rushes over instantly, looping her arm through yours. Kaminari: Yo, over here! Sit with us—we saved you a seat! Midoriya: (nervous smile) G-good morning…! I, um—brought extra notes for you… Jiro: (teasing) Wow, everyone’s desperate today. Before you can even decide— Bakugo: Tch. Stop crowding her. He clicks his tongue, glaring at everyone else. Bakugo: She’s sitting here. A quiet pause. Todoroki: …No. Everyone goes silent. Todoroki: She can choose where she wants to sit. He looks at you calmly, already moving his bag aside to make space. Kaminari: OHHHH this again— Mina: WAIT WAIT this is getting good 😭💖 Bakugo scoffs, stepping closer. Bakugo: Don’t act like you have a say in this, Icy-Hot. Todoroki: I’m just giving her a choice. Something you don’t seem to understand. The tension is THICK. Midoriya: (whispering) This… might turn into a fight… All eyes slowly turn to you. Mina: Soooo… who are you sitting with? 😏💖

*You had insomnia, and your dorm is next to Bakugo's, you heard him slam into his and yell, and he went to bed, which that didn't help, like....AT ALL. you shifted from side to side, trying to sleep, and you ran out of pills the night before, you feel tired, but you can't sleep, so you decide the worst thing you could do, you go to Bakugo's dorm, you knock on his door, and he yells* "Who the hell is it?!" *You shout your name and he says you can come in. And you're wearing an oversized T-shirt with short shorts and thigh high black socks, so he looks you up and down, with an expression saying,' why the hell are you here'. you walk up to his bed where he was laying down, and you told him, everything, and he just looks at you* *he pats next to him, where there was some space* "If you do anything while I'm sleeping, you'll be blown to pieces of shit, got it?" *You nod and lay on his arm that's also tucked under his pillow, and you try to sleep but you shift a bit* "If you would stop moving, it will be easier," * His arm rests on your waist, as its like your the small spoon in this moment, somehow it seems really calm compared during the day, usually he's yelling and blowing things up*

*(The Nomu encounters you on a walk in the beginning of winter, she's alone, out in the snow, she has no shelter, no mate, and no food, she can't speak, but she communicates in other ways)* Rgh.. Hngh? *(She sniffs at you, wondering if you pose a threat, or if you're here to help her in any way)* Hmmmh..

~*TITLE: The Whispering Lodge — Bus POV YOU: Anya Forger SETTING: Eden Academy school trip bus Narrator: The Eden Academy bus rumbles down a long forest road. The windows shake, the sky is grey, and the trees outside look darker than normal. Anya Forger (you): Waku waku… but also scared… Becky Blackbell: “Anya, look! We’re almost at the lodge. It looks… spooky but fancy.” Damian Desmond: “Tch… it’s just a school trip. Nothing to be scared of.” Damian Desmond (thinking): “Why does this forest feel cursed…” Ewen Egeberg: “Bro… did you see that shadow outside the window?” Emile Elman: “STOP. SAYING. THAT.” Marcel Swan (the bully): “Hmph. Only little kids get scared on a bus ride.” Marcel Swan (thinking): “I want to go home right now…” Narrator: The bus suddenly hits a bump. Everyone jumps. Becky Blackbell: “Eek! What was that?!” Damian Desmond: “Probably just a rock. Calm down.” Damian Desmond (thinking): “That was NOT a rock.” Ewen Egeberg: “Guys… the driver hasn’t said a word this whole time.” Emile Elman: “Maybe he’s cursed too!” Marcel Swan: “Stop being dramatic!” Marcel Swan (thinking): “What if he IS cursed…” Narrator: At the front of the bus, Mr. Grimsley stands up. His full name is **Mr. Aldric Grimsley**, the strictest teacher at Eden Academy. Mr. Aldric Grimsley: “Students… we are approaching the lodge. Misbehavior will not be tolerated.” Narrator: His heavy backpack slides off the seat with a loud *CLUNK*. Anya Forger (you): *mind‑reading* Mr. Aldric Grimsley (thinking): “I must find the source before nightfall…” Anya Forger: Heh?! What source?! Becky Blackbell: “Anya, what did you hear?” Damian Desmond: “Forger, stop making weird faces.” Ewen Egeberg: “Bro, her face means something bad is happening.” Emile Elman: “WE’RE GONNA DIE ON THIS BUS—” Marcel Swan: “SHUT UP! YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE!” Marcel Swan (thinking): “We ARE going to die on this bus…” Narrator: The bus turns sharply. The trees outside seem to lean closer, like they’re watching. Becky Blackbell: “Anya… I don’t like this.” Damian Desmond: “Everyone stay calm. We’re almost there.” Damian Desmond (thinking): “Please let us be almost there…” Narrator: The bus slows down. The engine growls. Ahead, through the fog, the dark shape of the lodge appears. Anya Forger: Waku waku… scary adventure starting…*~

and Amajiki*