Behold, my attempt to rectify the appalling lack of into the mind fics in the BNHA fandom.  :P

AO3

FFN

.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He stood on top of the stairs to the beach, looking down on them.  With the sun rising behind them, his pupils were pinpoints, his irises shockingly bright. He wore a thin windbreaker over a t-shirt that read ‘tracksuit’ and a pair of sweatpants with his signature red shoes.  His expression was strangely flat and blank.  He had never looked at them like that before.

“Deku?” said Ochako, uncertainly, taking a step forward, her hand half raised, as though she could reach him despite being so far away.

The commission instructor flung out an arm, stopping her.  He was staring up at the boy, too, his eyes blown wide, lips pulled back with something like worry, something like fear, and something like avarice.  “Whatever that is,” he said, “it isn’t Midoriya Izuku.”

Keep reading

Who wants to see the horrible, horrible family tree I made for my BNHA fic?

(With ~many~ spoilers for the fic.)

Long Night in the Valley is finally complete! The sequel is currently in the works, although it will probably be a while before I post anything.

The scene shifted the moment Tempest woke up. They were outside, on a street in the middle of the city.  Storm clouds circled overhead.  

Tempest stood in front of them, hands in her pockets, a bland expression on her face.  

“So,” she drawled.  “You’re Nine’s friends.”

“Uh,” said Ochako, taken aback.  Right after Four had said she wouldn’t talk to them, this was disconcerting.   “Yes?”

“I’m his teacher,” said Aizawa, stepping forward.

“Yeah?  You think you’re doing a good job raising up little child soldiers?”

Keep reading

“But what if it’s the hospital?” Inko asked, still staring at the phone, cheek cupped in one hand.  “What if it’s an emergency with one of your patients?  It could be important.”

It wasn’t.  Mostly because nothing could possibly be as important as dealing with Midoriya Inko.

Keep reading

Plans were made.

And discarded.

Different plans were made.  

These were also discarded.  

The problem (besides the fact that their best planners (except Yaoyorozu) were out of commission) was that no one knew what needed to be done. If anything.  Yes, Midoriya had run out of the testing center.  Yes, the whole situation where Midoriya was initially placed in a group apart from all the rest of them was shady.  Yes, the fact that Aizawa and the other half of class was still missing was distressing.  

Keep reading

“A mind affecting quirk?” asked the secretary.  “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” said Recovery Girl, grimly.  “If I had realized, I would never have left him alone while I reviewed the scans.  I thought it was something physical.  By the time we locked the campus down, he was already gone.”

The secretary found herself shaking, slightly.  Even retired, even barely able to use his quirk, the idea of All Might under mind control, under a villain’s control, was terrifying.  

“I’m going to put you through to the chairman,” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.  “I’m sure he’ll mobilize every available resource.”  She pressed the button and sagged in her chair glad she didn’t have to make real decisions.  

Then the calls from the people in charge of the Musutafu mental-invasion training activity started rolling in.  As she answered the phone, she couldn’t help but think that All Might probably would have benefited from the training.  

Keep reading

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Everyone turned to see Midoriya standing on the stairs to the beach, looking down at them.  None of them, least of all Shouto, had ever seen that expression on his face before. That… flatness that almost rivaled his own.  

Uraraka took a step forward.  “Deku?” she asked, uncertainly.  Suzuki, the commission instructor, threw his arm in front of her, blocking her path.  

“Whatever that is,” he said, voice strained and low-pitched, “it isn’t Midoriya Izuku.  Saito’s quirk doesn’t allow for the subject to have an avatar in the dreamscape without a lot of practice.  There’s another quirk at work here.”

“You need to leave,” said Midoriya, descending a single step.  “Now.”

“It could be a result of his own quirk,” said Aizawa, who nonetheless had a hand on his capture weapon.  “He’s had odd reactions to mental quirks in the past.  Jumping to conclusions is illogical.”

Keep reading