the fact people try to paint people who don’t like b*kugou as being terrible because we’re hating an abused kid is pretty wild considering a) we didn’t like him long before we knew his mother was abusive and a lot of us are the only people who actually recognize that his mother is abusive anyway because we know what abuse looks like and b) we didn’t like him because he abused izuku. yknow. an abused kid, who was abused by b*kugou. anyway
i feel like bakugou stans don’t realize that their actions harm abuse survivors. they spend all their time trying to say bakugou isn’t abusive so they can feel okay liking him and in the process invalidate people who were abused the way bakugou abused izuku. what bakugou stans say by doing this is that their abuse isn’t real and they imagined it or are overstating it which is already what we often think so it just ingraines that further and makes us really think we made our abuse up
hh i’m so sorry you have to deal with that that’s never any fun like
its really personal for me too cause for the better part of elementary school i was in a position like izuku: i was entirely friendless and bullied, and i didn’t even have the benefit of knowing why, all i knew was i was disliked by everyone around me and my teachers did nothing about the bullying, and if i hadn’t moved schools i know i would have been even worse off then i already am.
i’m really glad!! (and big mood on iida like that’s my dude)
its very personal to me and i get just. righteously angry and No One Can Stop Me. fandom out here stanning abusive men who you KNOW if were women would be rightfully hated but when a boy’s like that. well That’s Just How Boys Are as we all know being angry all the time and screaming die at people are Very Endearing Character Traits. not like its litcherally fucking terrifying when irl entitled asshole men act the way bakugou does
you literally cannot make me give a single shit about bakugou until he actually shows even the vaguest sign of being sorry for what he did to izuku but the likelihood of that is so low. bakugou continues to be an entitled bastard and his opinions about quirkless people haven’t changed in the slightest nor will they since presumably everyone agrees w him
A drabble/not!fic from this verse, because sometimes, people reblog/like my old stuff and then I get curious about what they’ve reblogged/liked so I go back and reread snippets of my never-to-be-finished crap and end up adding to it. Possibly to make it even crappier, but hey, it’s fun when I get the inspiration and everyone needs a hobby.
Maybe Muramasa’s been wandering around for a long time without Kouga, sick and obsessed with freeing his wielder. He stumbles on a ten-year-old Ichigo when he’s wandering around the Human world one day, and he can sense the ridiculous amount of reiatsu Ichigo has, and it’s interesting enough for him to stick around for a little while. It isn’t as if Karakura has a shortage on Hollows either, and he’s careful to stay out of sight; someone with that much power would be able to see him if he showed himself.
He watches Ichigo buy groceries and drag them home, watches two little girls even younger than the boy latch onto him at the door, watches him help them with homework and walk them to and from school and tuck them into bed. Muramasa isn’t exactly an expert on children but this strikes him as a little odd – shouldn’t there be parents around to take care of them?
And then Muramasa finally sees the father, and he only needs a few moments to place that face. Shiba Isshin should not be playing house in the human world; as a Shinigami, he should be in Soul Society.
I thought it was explained that dera didn’t actually believe it? That he would get the place of decimo I mean
@otaku-alert That’s the thing- I can’t find a hint of it in canon, though I have read so in fanfiction a lot and I agree he’s too smart to believe that- especially as he grew up in the mafia. But honestly, at this point of time? If it was a hoax thought up by someone else, I doubt Gokudera would have gone along with it. But he’s there for that purpose, he says, and why else would he be there? To have the Vongola Decimo on his ‘defeated’ list? Because we know Gokudera- if he was actually prepared to become Tsuna’s subordinate, then he would’ve acted differently.
It could have been a test, of course. Testing Tsuna if he was the kind of boss Gokudera wanted. But this conflicts with his attitude- he’s a good Hitman, but we all know he’s been rejected for being a bastard a lot, and his desperation to belong is just that- desperation. He was constantly turned away, but this time, Reborn invited him. You could say Gokudera values himself enough to test Tsuna anyway, but Gokudera’s self worth is a strange thing and I honestly have no idea how it factors in this situation.
My own personal headcanon for this is that he went there expecting to die.
Picture it from Gokuera’s point of view: You are the bastard son of a mafia boss who ran away from home to become a hitman. You’ve killed people, nearly been killed yourself, and are generally just scrapping by. You try to get acceptance, a place in a family, a place to call home, and you get rejected at every turn. You are tired, you are questioning your self-worth. There’s probably a lot of self deprecation there, a lot of self hatred. He was depressed, traumatized, and a child trying to navigate the shark infested waters that is the mafia. There was nowhere safe.
Then one day you get a call on your phone. It’s not a number you recognize, or if it is, then its one you hoped would never show on your phone. Because you’re certain someone as prestigious as Reborn, the World’s Greatest Hitman, wouldn’t be calling you for anything good, especially when (or if, I can’t quite remember if this is true) there are rumors that Reborn is training the Vongola Heir.
“Come to Nanimori,” Reborn tells you. “Come kill the Vongola heir.”
You’re not stupid. You never have been, no matter how many years you spent being fooled into thinking your mother was a person she wasn’t. No matter how long you spent willingly eating cookies that were poisoned. No matter how long you spent thinking Shamal had 60 something sisters. Succession, especially succession of a mafia family as powerful and old as the Vongola, the most powerful of all the families, is something you don’t mess with. Not if you want to live. Unless there was some kind of messed up conspiracy (as some people in the fandom believe) surrounding the other three Vongola heirs deaths, you can bet your life the perpetrators would have been viciously hunted down, interrogated, and murdered. Made an example of.
You can’t say no. No one says no to the World’s Greatest Hitman. So you go. Even if you’re certain this won’t end well.
You go.
The way I see it, Gokudera went to Namimori with two options: Become the 10th boss’s subordinate, or die. And he knew this, the entire time. And because of the constant rejection, the constant refusals, he probably thought the subordinate option wasn’t a possibility. In other words, he went to Namimori expecting to die. He knew it, from the moment that Reborn called him, from the moment Reborn contacted him, about killing the 10th Vongola heir, that this was to be his end.
Reborn probably did tell Gokudera that if he succeed, he would become heir in Tsuna’s steed, but I doubt Gokudera believed it. He’s too smart for that. He’s been in the mafia too long for that. But he went along with it anyways, because you can’t say no to Reborn. So he went thinking that if he succeeded, Reborn would kill him, and if he failed, the heir would kill him. He probably didn’t see any other outcome. Until Tsuna–wonderful, crazy, accepting Tsuna–saved his life instead.
And people question why Gokudera is as devoted as he is.
xD Maybe it isn’t true, maybe there was something else going on, but this is honestly how I see it. It’s also the story I use in all my KHR fics. So, yeah. Gokudera went along with it because you can’t say no to Reborn, and he expected to end up dead one way or another, until Tsuna came along and just kinda went “fuck that” and offered a home instead. Without realizing he was doing it in the first place. And Reborn probably planned for it to turn out that way the entire time, the bastard. (I love him anyways)
The cupboard was quiet. It usually was quiet in there, since he was the only one in there. His only company was the spiders that occasionally wandered in, and they couldn’t exactly speak to him. But he had his dolls, his toys and his puppets, the ones that he had oh so carefully stolen over the years and crafted piece by piece. Each one was tiny, no larger than his hand, but they were beautiful. Made of wood and porcelain and plastic, wearing clothing carefully made with scraps of fabric, and painted with tiny designs to make them look oh so real. They were his treasures, his precious treasures.
He absolutely could not let anyone find them.
So he hid them, just as he hid all things. He hid them under the threadbare blanket and the thin pillow. Under the mattress that lay in tatters above the cot. He hid them in the darkest corners of his cupboard, where the Dursleys never bothered to look.
He was cold today, shivering for reasons he knew not. He clutched the blanket that he had been given tighter around him. He should be sleeping by this time, it was so very late at night. But he couldn’t sleep. Such had become the norm in recent times, for nightmares plagued him whenever he closed his eyes. The lack of sleep was catching up to him, and people had been commenting that he looked like death.
Green eyes that so seemed to glow, large circular, broken glasses held together by tape and glue, and wild inky black hair that stuck up in every direction. Add in the pale skin and the black bags beneath his eyes, and it went for quite the picture.
But he didn’t care. Freak didn’t care. Boy didn’t boy didn’t care. Harry didn’t care.
Because his appearance felt wrong.
He would see his reflection in the mirror, green eyes, glasses, and everything, and all he would be able to think about was how off his appearance looked to him. It didn’t feel right. He shouldn’t have been wearing glasses. His hair wasn’t black. His eyes shouldn’t be so green. But they were. He was. This was how he looked. But it still felt wrong.
So much in his life felt off. He always felt like he was forgetting something. There as always something missing, something fantastical, something different.
Sometimes he thought his dreams were the answer. The dreams of red sand and people screaming. The dreams of hundreds of figures blotting out the sky, all descending on something. The dreams of loneliness and loss, or long dark nights spent in a place surrounded by blurry colorless shapes. He sought out those dreams at times, because at times they felt so real and damn it why couldn’t he remember more and why was he here and why did something feel like it was missing and the world was wrong wrong wrong.
He schooled his features, forcing a blank mask upon his face. That was his default expression most days, he got in less trouble with his relatives when he stayed like this.
Cheloneuniverse 