Seeing Dabi's dance reminds me of Azula's final breakdown from ATLA, and the parallels are honestly amazing. While Azula was a victim of Ozai, she still tried to hurt and kill innocents, including her brother and his friends. And Zuko/Shouto got the intervention they needed and now have a supportive safety net. And watching Dabi now, if he doesnt die, I think he'll end up the same as Azula. Abandoned, chained up, finally driven insane by his rage. Just... utterly tragic, but amazingly well done.
XD It’s amusing, @tozhan‘s first words to me when they saw the leaks with Dabi dancing and they way he treated Shouto were that they couldn’t believe Hori hadn’t watched ATLA because the parallels between Dabi and Shouto and Zuko and Azula are so strong in this chapter.
Dabi really is on the same path as Azula but has enough of a twist to differ from her so he’s not completely the same (Dabi was the castaway while Shouto was Endeavor’s favourite which is the reverse for Zuko and Azula). Despite this, it’s really interesting to see how similar their circumstances have become anyway.
These leaks have been my favourite so far for this reason. I love angsty sibling dynamics and I’m so happy that BNHA is giving it to us (while also vindicating me which is just a bonus :p)
I saw your post looking for aizawa content and I'm such a monky brain fan for this man I know way too much lol. There isn't a lot of domestic Aizawa content in the actual manga, but in vigilantes, the canon spinoff, we can see him living in a pretty minimalist space. Like, literally only him, his sleeping bag, and a rolling suitcase in a bare ass room with NOTHING, though it is a flashback. But even still, it reflects how he lives now in the dorms, very frugally with only the essentials. (1/?)
We can also assume that he does keep hygiene things, since we see him cleaned up during press conferences in a nice suit and clean shaven (sadly rare), and he does have civilian clothes (that are basically indistinguishable from his hero costume jfc). But besides clothes and extremely basic hygiene, we don't see anything else, and given his personality, its doubtful he has many, if any, material possessions. (2/?)
As for eating, your are hard pressed to find this man eating anything. But he does, even though it's extremely rare. His main food of choice is these protein jelly pouches?? which he eats for efficiency and basic nutrition. But! We do catch him grabbing a quick lunch in a fast food burger in vigilantes :0, and in some of the extras, he goes drinking with his friends and there's plenty of food, so we can assume he eats, but very little, and only for sustenance purposes and never enjoyment. (3/?)
Fun fact, even though he doesn't eat a lot, Aizawa does get extremely drunk in these side stories, and he mistakes objects for people and gets really gushy about his true feelings 😂🤣. This is a non exhaustive list, and I probably missed something, but I hope this answered some of your questions! I love and write about Aizawa's character sm, so if you want to know more, I have plenty <333 (4/4)
(god THANK YOU for this defkajwefkherfkhearf you are and angel)
let the man REST!!!! the fact that he lives in such a spartan style is something i really want to talk about in the thingy i’m writing for him. like, letting yourself enjoy things, letting yourself be a person instead of a tool upkept for maximum efficiency. how simple is a favorite food? a nice mattress? why deny yourself these basic, human things?
and like.....i’m not sure if shota just doesn’t care about being happy/enjoying life, if it’s never occurred to him to want these things, but i’m fairly certain its all because he doesn’t believe he deserves it (after the thing that happened in vigilantes). the way he lives seems like a kind of self induced punishment, and wow.... ouchy :’)
I just wanted tell you that you've really helped me cope with my mental issues this past year. While other irl factors have contributed too, you and other lovely authors that write darkfics help deal with my trauma. In what is undoubtedly one of the shittiest years in history, you've given me a safe (and sexy!) environment to explore taboo ideas without hurting myself and becoming more well rounded as a person. Its helped me gain a bit of control over my own mind. Truly, thank you, Alison ily💞
i’m happy my writing helped you in some way <3 may you continue to experience recovery and progress!
heaiaran hat auf deine Bilderserie geantwortet “I thought it would be interesting to make a comparison of the ep 63...”
its a few things. his smaller eye dots, weird placement of lines, the strange curve on his smile. The biggest thing that makes him stand out to us is the low contrast of the entire image. The shadows shouldve been way darker to make it seem more dramatic imo. like, all might kind of contrast. i think his eyes also shouldve been a darker blue or black, to make them more striking. tldr: the anime doesnt do a good job of recreating mirio, but nevertgeless he is still my boy
Thank you so much for your input !! Very interesting observations. I haven’t even thought about the contrast playing a big part in this particular scene, but you are so right. Anime Mirio just feels flatter overall and does not have the same impact. I haven’t even noticed his eyes are smaller, maybe due to the highlights in his eyes being bigger. Both his face and head are smaller and all these little bits just make him feel a little unfamiliar.
Let’s just hope that they will redesign him a little in Season 4 when they have more time available.
But you are right, I still love him very much as well. The voice actor does a REALLY good job in portraying mirio and seeing him move is just so cool.
A gift for @natsuunosora & @heaiaran using their OCs Erebos Nox and Persephone, respectively, and my OC Hoder.
“Can I see you?”
The question was asked so suddenly that Persephone had to stop mid-chew and stare at the God sitting across from her. Not that he could tell she was staring, of course.
He did, however, seem to sense her perturbation.
“Ah, I’m sorry!” Hoder stammered, ducking his head, “I-I just, um, never mind!”
She huffed, swallowing as she set her spoon down and propped her elbows up on the table. “It’s alright, dear, you just caught me by surprise!” she soothed, reaching over to gently touch one of his hands. He flinched at the sudden contact, nodding even as he shrunk in on himself. Persephone had to remind herself not to get hung up on it.
She’d seen the scars, after all, much as they pained her.
Clearing her throat, the Goddess stood and walked around the table, making sure her footsteps were loud and decisive. Hoder tilted his head when she sat next to him, sightless eyes vacant below quirked brows.
“So, you want to see me?” Persephone prompted, grinning when he nodded again, almost shy. “How?”
That made the shadow God paused, biting his lip. “I, uh, would need to touch you. If that’s okay?”
She hummed her assent, turning a little more so she was facing him fully. Persephone had a vague idea as to how this would go - she’d met a handful of nymphs that had had the misfortune of being Apollon’s lovers and were blinded by his radiance (he’d healed them, of course, after getting scolded within an inch of his life).
Hoder reached toward her slowly, his fingers trembling when they finally touched her skin. He tilted his head in confusion when she giggled.
“That’s my neck, dear.”
“Ah- My apologies!”
Both of his hands drew up to caress her jaw, his expression pinched with concentration. His fingers fanned out to smooth over her jaw and cheeks, thumbs lightly tracing her cheekbones. Persephone couldn’t contain a small huff when he drew his fingers lightly over her lips, feeling guilty when he immediately shied away.
“Sorry, it tickled,” she offered, smiling when Hoder relaxed again. In some ways, he was more skittish than a fawn - it’d be endearing if it weren’t so sad.
Still, he seemed to get a little more confident with her encouragement. “Ah, there’s your nose,” he said faintly. Persephone felt a small twinge of self-consciousness as he traced her features, old vanity striking her heart.
“I’m surprised it took you this long to find it. It’s rather large, isn’t it?”
Hoder just smiled, tilting his head. “It’s lovely.” he replied sincerely, lightly tracing up the bridge of her nose with his thumbs and spreading out to map her brows. Persephone closed her eyes so he could discover them too.
“What color is your skin?” Hoder asked suddenly, fingers dancing lightly over her temples and connecting them back down to her cheekbones.
The inquiry surprised her. “Oh, um. Brown, I suppose.”
“Light or dark?”
“You can tell the difference?” The question left her lips before she could think better of it. Thankfully, Hoder didn’t seem offended.
“Sort of?” he offered, lightly going back over her cheeks, “It’s more like I’m able to ‘see’ them with other senses. Light brown is like a warm pie, I think. It smells like warmth and tastes sweet. Medium brown is like the forest and, um, dirt I guess. Nature-y things. And dark brown is coffee.”
Persephone tilted her head when Hoder’s nose wrinkled. “You don’t like dark brown?”
“No, I just don’t like coffee. Too bitter. It smells nice, though, so that’s what I really think of for dark brown.”
“I see.” she said, careful to not sound too amused. “Well, in any case, I suppose I’m somewhere between light and medium brown.”
Hoder hummed, nodding. “A pie-tree, then,” he quipped, smiling when she laughed.
“I have freckles, too, by the way.”
“You do?” His curious delight made her want to blush. “Where?”
Persephone gently took his hands and showed him where they were on her face and neck. He didn’t flinch at the contact this time, too excited by the new piece of information.
“So many!” he breathed. “Thank you for showing me. I have no way of discovering them on my own.” Smiling so brightly suited him, and her heart ached to see it more often.
“They’re just freckles, Hoder. Nothing special.” she huffed in amusement.
“Skin stars are very special.” he replied seriously, almost pouting.
Persephone laughed.
He moved his fingers back up to lightly brush against her lashes. “What color are your eyes?”
“Purple.”
“Warm or cold?”
“Um- What?”
“Sorry.” Hoder’s expression was apologetic. “I’ve been told wine is a warm purple and sometimes red, so I associate the taste and smell of it with that color. A cold purple is, well, more of a feeling of ‘cold’ and ‘night’, I suppose.”
“Interesting.” Persephone said slowly, wrinkling her nose in thought, “Again, I think my eyes are somewhere between - closer to a cold purple, I guess.”
“A midnight grape color.”
“Yes.”
Hoders fingers lightly moved back to her forehead. “Can I touch your hair?”
“Of course you can,” she said, pleased that he’d thought to ask for permission, “It’s a peachy pink, by the way.”
“A peac- Oh!” His exclamation of pure delight made her laugh. “It’s so fluffy!”
Persephone let him play with her hair for a bit, giggling as he ooh’d and aah’d, seeming to genuinely enjoy himself. She couldn’t help it - his enthusiasm was adorable.
“You said it was a ‘peachy pink’, right? What’s that like?”
She bit her lip, racking her brain for an example that didn’t require sight. “Um, you’ve felt a sunrise, right? That soft, gentle light that warms the world for the first few moments of a new day? It’s sort of like that.” Describing her hair in such poetic terms left her feeling vaguely pretentious.
Hoder hummed, fingers tangling through her hair for a few seconds longer before he removed them. “That’s a kind color,” he said softly, a tiny smile on his lips, “A very kind color. It suits you.”
“What are you two doing?”
Persephone and Hoder jumped away from each other as if stung at the sound of a new voice. She placed a hand on her chest to steady her racing heart, staring wide-eyed at the person that had so rudely interrupted them.
“I did not expect to see you up so early, Erebos. And on a weekend no less!” Persephone felt more than saw Hoder relax beside her when she announced who had entered, ducking his head as the other came toward them. She couldn’t blame him. Even bound, the God of Darkness’s aura was impressive.
Erebos took the seat on the other side of Hoder, quirking a brow at their unfinished breakfasts. “Well? I can tell I interrupted something.” His tone was dull as he looked them over, his eyes lingering on her. “I highly doubt your mother would like it if you did anything untoward-”
“Hoder wanted to see me!” Persephone squeaked, the mention of her mother frazzling her. “That’s all!”
“Oh?” was all he said said, eyeing the blind God beside him. “Would you like to see me as well, Hoder? I’d almost insist seeing as Demeter’s wrath is an awful thing to incur.”
“I, um, well-” he stuttered, shoulders hunched.
Persephone gently touched his arm, pouting at her relative. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” she said, protectively scooting closer to him, “And don’t worry about mother. I’ll deal with her - not to mention we weren’t doing anything wrong in the first place!”
Hoder smiled at her wanly before shaking his head. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind.” He turned slightly toward Erebos, who in turn looked vaguely shocked that his casual inquiry had actually borne fruit.
—
“What color is your hair?”
“Black as your sight.” Erebos intoned dryly, lips quirking up in a smirk when Hoder scoffed. The blind God ruffled through his bangs a moment more before lightly tracing down his forehead.
He’d shooed Persephone back around to her side of the table to finish eating when they’d started, and he had to keep giving her judging looks to make sure she continued to do so.
He glanced her way. She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another bite of her doubtlessly cooling breakfast.
“Your skin is really smooth,” Hoder said suddenly.
“Is mine not?” Persephone asked, a light note of concern in her voice.
“No, I mean, um,” he stuttered, fingers dancing on Erebos’s skin, “It’s just different.”
“How so?” Erebos asked, raising a brow.
“Ah, well, Persephone’s skin is soft as compared to smooth.”
“That’s not really a comparison.” Hoder looked abashed and Erebos immediately regretted his own bluntness.
“Sorry,” he said, ducking his head (which forced him to need to resist the urge to lift the other God’s chin), “I guess, um, it’s sort of like the difference between a peach and a marble pillar?”
“Oh, that makes a little more sense.” Persephone’s statement might’ve been a bit more coherent if she hadn’t been rubbing at her cheeks. At least it served to make Hoder lift his head and huff in amusement.
Satisfied, Hoder’s hands continued their trek around Erebos’s face. He, for obvious reasons, found himself studying the other God’s face almost as much as the other was studying his.
It was a nice face, though Erebos supposed that was a given, seeing who he was twins with. If not for his latent powers of forgetfulness, he’d probably have nearly as many fans as his brother.
He frowned, trying and failing to imagine such a soft-spoken individual being the center of attention.
Ah, fate truly was cruel.
Hoder apparently found something incredibly interesting about Erebos’s nose because he leaned forward, his brow furrowing. Erebos watched with singular interest as the other God’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips. He swallowed harshly, suddenly aware of their proximity.
“What color are your eyes?” Hoder asked suddenly, tilting his head.
Erebos knew the game by now - tell the blind God a color and they could go back and forth about shades and tones (discussing his skin had been a group effort). Or he could just give an explanation of the color using other sensory input.
But how to describe red without using the color? There were many examples - a pinkish red was found in the sharp, sweet taste of strawberries, a vibrant crimson in injuries and the sense of being in immediate danger, and a darker scarlet glistened in the scent of cooking cranberries.
And yet–
Unthinking, Erebos leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the corner of the other God’s mouth. He heard Persephone gasp and drop her fork, felt Hoder’s sharp intake of breath. Perhaps he’d been too forward?
When Erebos sat back, he saw Hoder’s cheeks were inflamed in the most delightful shade of red.
