Kirishima hated the silence that sat heavy on his tongue. The weight that stilled his voice and wrapped around his throat like a threat. He hated it. He wondered, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth, why it was called a silver tongue. Silver was heavy. How would one properly speak with a silver tongue? How could you talk, deceive, promise, or express? Kirishima didn’t know. Of course, he didn’t know how to speak with a tongue made of flesh either. 

Denki was loud. Loud and stupid and dumb. Sometimes it was better to be silent than dumb. He would rather people ask why he wasn’t speaking than why he was the way he was. He would have to look at himself, really look at himself, if someone asked why he was so dumb. He didn’t want to do that. He would rather not talk. 

~~~

Masterlist 

They worked in teams. Practice missions, real missions, any work with the pros. They learned how to work together, how to support each other. It wasn’t that hard, not really. For the most part, 1A liked each other. Sure there was Bakugou, who barely even respected anyone, and Todoroki, who was aloof to the point of being difficult as hell to work with. They were good overall. Even Bakugou and Todoroki weren’t bad, just difficult. They worked together. 

They were children. The class as a whole resented that. Well, not really. They wanted to be kids but they were tired. They were treated like kids but expected to be adults. It wasn’t fun. They hated it. They still worked together, though. 

It was more than just on the battlefield. Helping Denki with homework, Todoroki with social cues, hell, almost all of them with insecurities. More than that. With quirk damage. Protecting an overcharged Kaminari, keeping Shoto’s temperature regulated, helping the constant too-stiff joints and pains. They helped each other, all of them. What would happen when they inevitably lost a member? Or two? Or three?

Inevitable was a strange word for the situation. Standing over their friend’s graves shouldn’t have been inevitable. This shouldn’t have been inevitable. 

The class fell apart. 

Too many students skipped class. It was tolerated early on but some didn’t return. They had to be fetched from the dorms, tired eyes avoiding the pitying glances. A solidarity in the class lost because that’s what they were. Lost. 

~~~

Masterlist

Life was rough. Bakugou didn’t like to genuinely complain. He would loudly complain about anything around him but showing true emotion? That was hard. One of many things he was not skilled at. 

He was sad. All the time. He just wanted a hug. Arms wrapping around him, strong and warm and oh so human. He wanted so much. 

He wrapped his arms around his shaking form. 

Was he truly this small?

When did he get here? Where was here?

He hugged himself tighter. 

It wasn’t enough. 

It was never enough. 

~~~

Masterlist

No. Stop. They hated that. They weren’t brave, they never had been. No one should ever think that of them. They were a coward, if they were brave none of this would have happened. If they were brave, they never would have gotten on the stage in the first place. Or maybe they would have kept the song the same. Brave people didn’t change a stupid fucking song just because someone told them to. Brave people did what they wanted. Brave people were better. 

They hated being called brave. They weren’t. They were a coward. Paranoid. Not brave. 

More than anything, they hated being called brave by him. The teacher they looked up to oh so much. They wanted his respect and his... they didn’t know. What they did know, though, was that they didn’t want this. They wanted him to look at them all soft and kind but not like this. They wanted to deserve it. 

They wanted to be brave. 

~~~

hoo boy its been a bit this is the first ive written in a while

also its about jirou and aizawa (NOT SHIPPING)

Masterlist