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the critically acclaimed open post

assorted shitty people

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme
☆ little steps meme
☆ affectionate physical contact meme
☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy
☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU
☆ melodrama is ultimate tier
★ SHIPPING AND FILTHY THINGS:
☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh
☆ things I won't rp: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character
☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty
☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

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[That's what Toshinori tells himself, most days— that the Symbol of Peace is a pillar, meant to shoulder at least some of the people's burden, not just a man in a costume shouting that he'll do something without following through. The old injury bothers him less these days, emotionally speaking. Some days are worse than others, days spent moping around feeling sorry for himself, walls up between himself anyone who might get through to him—

And if he's being honest, he's felt like that since he woke up in the hospital. This body is pathetic compared to what he once was, far too weak to handle even the remnants of One for All without tearing itself apart inside, and he may have come to terms with bearing the scars and limiting the hero work he can do but now that there's nothing left besides this useless shell, well.

It's a dark cloud that hangs over him, so constant in the back of his mind that he only realizes he's been feeling it this whole time when Aizawa says he's magnificent. The word itself pierces through to resonate in his chest; Aizawa can look at him as he is now and say that? How?]

I— Like this?

[No, not like this, not anymore, he thinks, but the part of him that wants desperately to be wrong about himself still looks up at Aizawa with some kind of raw hope.]

Yes.

[He shifts just enough so that he can lie properly atop him, body solid atop his, fingers brushing against the sharp jut of his collarbone. His face doesn't melt, he's not built for soppy warm moments, but there's a solidity to his expression that perhaps Toshinori will find comfort in.

Yes, he says, absolutely certain.]

You were before, as All Might. But you're more so like this, Toshinori. Anyone with eyes can see that.

Oh.

[Give him a moment; it's a lot to process. Most of his life he's spent being a hero, and he honestly thought... well. He honestly thought he would die in a fight like the one against One for All; a contingency plan for what to do if he actually survived never occurred to him.

But Aizawa, bless him, never wastes time on platitudes or empty promises, so at least he can rely on one person's word. Toshinori slides his available arm around him slowly, a touch uncertainly until he comes to some kind of decision about everything else in the world besides Aizawa lying on top of him and holds him tighter.]

I'm not sure too many people will agree with you on that one...

[Right? Logically? About a thousand people have already looked at him and said "what's with that skeleton," so.]

Are you looking for most people's approval?

[It's a little bit of a joke and a little bit serious all at once, as he lays his head down on his chest and listens to his semi-ragged breathing.]

Kind of! [Like, to be honest, yes.] I'm used to already having it!

[It'd be nice to say something about how it's enough to have Aizawa's approval, that would hit the spot, but in all honesty— he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore, and falling back on public opinion at least has quantifiable results.

So, please enjoy his struggle while he stares up at the ceiling.]

That's going to backfire on you.

[He's sort of shocked it hasn't already, but he supposes it's hard to slander a symbol. Aizawa's fingers keep trailing over Toshinori's body, calloused fingers tracing idle symbols.]

Especially now that you're a person again. And you're going to end up more hurt as a result.

I know, I know.

[At least he's getting cuddles while having this conversation. Imagine if he had to face reality without any affection? Disastrous.]

Besides returning to UA... I don't know what to do with myself.

You'll have to figure that out over the next few months.

[But there's no rush. For better or worse, he has the rest of his life to understand.]

There's plenty of people who'd want you as a mentor. But that's not quite what you mean, is it?

[No, because he only cares about Midoriya!! Kidding. Mostly. He hums an affirmative, thoughtfully, falling silent for a moment.]

If I was going to quit being a hero, I wanted to make that decision myself. All for One took that from me, as well.

[Asshole. May he choke in prison, etc.]

Mm.

[He thinks of Stain, then, and the first Ingenium. About how quickly and easily he stole his future from him, all over nothing. At least All Might had won his battle, even if the ending was bittersweet.]

You don't often get to choose that if you're a pro. Not unless you're lucky, or you don't handle the truly dangerous things.

[It's not scolding. Just an idle fact.]

But regardless, Toshinori . . . he did take it from you, and you are retired. You can't linger in what you wanted and what could have been.

I'm— I know that.

[It's barely been 24 hours, so he can't say he isn't doing that, and it's almost aggravating to hear; six years ago and he'd have spitefully turned Aizawa away and carried on by himself. But now the students depend on him, Midoriya especially, and alright— the past thirty or so minutes of being involved with Aizawa have been pretty persuasive.

So: character development!! He squeezes his arm around Aizawa briefly, to emphasize that he's not just bullshitting here.]

I told you, I'll be alright. Sooner or later.

Mm.

[He will, he thinks. If he tries, if he wants to, he'll recover. He's more than he seems to think he is.

But he won't nag. Aizawa shifts, squirming to edge up a little farther, his head tucked firmly beneath Toshinori's head.]

We should probably move to your bed at some point. For your sake, not mine.

[Not nagging is excellent, thanks. It will be a process, but with UA depending on him and the new and exciting prospect of waking up with Aizawa curled up against him like this at least some of the time, he'll feel... better. Not perfect, but better.

And they should move, as the second Aizawa says so Toshinori is much more aware of how uncomfortable his legs are, but he also likes this position...]

Ah, the caretaking Aizawa returns. [cute...] In a few minutes.

[He grumbles softly, wordlessly. Don't call attention to his caretaking abilities. But all right, if Toshinori wants to stay for a few more minutes, he's fine with that.

He's quiet for a while. And then, mumbled:]

How are you with cats?

[Sorry, it's cute, he can't help that. And he's going to enjoy his couple more minutes of couch cuddling, before they move on to bed cuddling.]

Hmm? Decent, I suppose. Why?

I have to take care of my cat . . . so either I stay here and bring her, or I go home again and again.

[He has a preference. Guess what it is.]

[Oh!! Please let him become best friends with this cat during his forced days of rest. Please.]

Ah— I don't mind! Bring her over!

[Mentally he's already ordered 5 new cat toys, he will not be stopped.]

Good.

[. . .]

Her name is Jelly.

[He shifts, blindly digging into one pocket. Eventually, a cell phone is produced, and he offers it to him. Look at his cat, babe.]

[Well, the verdict is in: Toshinori has never loved a man more than this absolute weirdo with his sad cat named goddamn Jelly, holy shit. Thank god he's already lying down or he'd have passed out.]

Oh! She's so small!

[She's a cat. But also, tiny.]

She's a runt.

[He has a soft spot for the ugly and unwanted cats. It's possible Jelly runs into walls a fair bit. And can't breathe well. It's not great. He lifts his head, squinting, but yeah, he can fit a tiny baby playpen or something in here.]

You should put any merchandise up on a shelf. She'll chew your head off.

[Yes, please make his apartment into a cat sanctuary for one cat, one cat Toshinori will definitely try to cradle in his only available arm as much as possible no matter how many playpens are in the room.]

I'll do that in the morning. She'll be okay tonight...?

[When does he get to meet this cat!!!]

I asked Mic to check in on her.

[Which says a lot, actually, about how much he wants to stay here. It also says a lot that his phone is still buzzing with new texts, and it only belatedly occurs to Aizawa that perhaps he ought to take his phone back, lest Toshinori read some of them.

Mic is not subtle in his questioning.]

[Honestly, he's very distracted by this cat's beautiful smushed face... but the abrupt buzzing and deluge of notifications popping up in quick succession is hard to miss. How does he type so quickly, and so salaciously... Oh My.]

Perhaps now is the best time to get ready for bed.

[He can go brush his teeth and Aizawa can wade through Mic's capslocked demands to know just what he's "DOING ;) ;) ;);););)"]

[He exhales irritably, the scowl on his face entirely for Mic and Mic alone. With a little groan he sits up, glaring down at his phone.

He offers Hizashi some terse texts that give him absolutely nothing in terms of juicy details and sets his phone on silent. Then the phone is tossed to the side, abandoned in favor of unbuttoning his shirt and getting ready for bed.

Now they're both shirtless, and, after a moment of hesitation, trouserless as well. He doesn't climb under the sheets just yet, but rather sits there in his boxers, waiting to see if Toshinori needs help in some fashion.

Which is certainly a sight for him to return to. Don't spit up blood, babe.]

[Fun injury activity: brushing teeth with non-dominant hand. If an errant muttered swear escapes Toshinori's bathroom in the next few minutes, please just accept it and move on. He'll be a minute or so longer than he reasonably should be, but when he shuffles out and sees Aizawa sitting on his bed in nothing but boxers, he stops short.

There is no blood, only staring. Ah--]

—You're very handsome.

[All the way down? Is that a thing? Anyway, it's true.]

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