Bnha Images - Blog Posts

Chapter Seven

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

“You’re shitting me right?” Bakugou’s voice suddenly came above the whole training ground. But he knew somewhere it was true, cause to be fair the evidence was adding up and looking right at him.

Drax ignored him, as he kneeled before you. His horns as black as the night sky poking out of his head, a mark covering one of his eyes as he looked up at you. “You’re highness is finally at the certain age that she will discover herself fully. But its not safe anymore princess, you should come wit-“

“Woah woah woah, I’m sorry does it look like I’m going to come with you?” You spoke out, taking a step back from everything and everyone, panic coming to the surface. “ cause first you tell me, my whole life is a lie, second of I’m apparently a danger to society and possibly the universe—“

You were reaching for your back, two heavy pair of black wings sitting beautifully on your back. “And lastly, get these things off me-! What’s happening-!” Your breath fell quickly, as you kept clawing at your back, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he just called you “your highness”

Drax finally stood, slow and careful, taking a cautious step toward you. His voice lowered into something almost melodic, steady like a lullaby. “Breathe, Princess. Please. The wings won’t hurt you — they’re part of you.”

But the word Princess snapped you right back into that same spiral, making the air feel even thinner.

“I’m not a princess!” you shouted, voice cracking under the weight of your fear. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, uninvited and hot, but you blinked them back, pulling your knees tightly to your chest. “I’m not— I’m not anything. I don’t want this.”

For a long moment, the field was quiet except for your uneven breathing.

“You are a stranger-! And If-“ You couldn’t finish that sentence, tears streaming slightly down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. “The wings need to go-! I can’t go on like this-! I-“

Bakugou stepped in, closing the space between you with a firm, grounding presence. His hand didn’t touch you, but hovered close — steady, solid, and unshakable.

“Hey.” His voice wasn’t sharp like usual, but low and commanding enough to cut through the storm spinning in your head. “Breathe, idiot.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you felt the shift in his tone. He inhaled slow and deep, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it in a controlled breath. “Come on. Match me.”

Your chest was tight, your breathing ragged, but you tried. Shaky at first, shallow — but with each breath Bakugou took, you mirrored it a little closer, the panic loosening its grip, just enough for your head to clear.

Once your breathing steadied, Drax finally moved, slow and careful, giving you space but speaking with calm certainty. “The wings don’t have to stay out, Princess,” he said softly, the word still foreign and heavy on your ears. “They only appear when your instincts wake... when your blood remembers. I can teach you to control it.”

You hesitated, blinking through the tears, your voice barely above a whisper. “Control it?”

Drax nodded once, lifting a hand, palm open and steady. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Focus on the space between your shoulder blades. Feel the weight... and then imagine pulling it inward. Like folding a blanket — slow, but firm.”

You took a deep breath, imagined it being Nezu who wrapped an soft blanket around you. Your shoulder blades slowly relaxed, your body slumping cause of all the adrenaline, as your vision began to blur a little.

“That’s it..” Drax smiled softly, as he watched your wings slowly fold itself up and into your body with some small magic. “You’ve done amazing your highness..” He spoke to her softly, as he saw aizawa and All might run over to them finally.

Aizawa’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer, steady and grounding, but his sharp gaze never left Drax. The tension in his posture wasn’t from the wings — it was from the stranger standing too calmly in the middle of U.A.’s training field, acting like he belonged there.

Drax straightened as Aizawa slowly rose to his feet, his scarf subtly shifting like it was ready to strike if it had to.

“You talk like you’ve been watching her for a long time.” Aizawa’s voice was even, but the edge beneath it was clear as day. “And I don’t remember your name on the guest list.”

Drax met his gaze without flinching, that same respectful calm settling over his features. “I’ve watched over her from a distance. My duty lies with her safety, not your school’s permission.” His words weren’t sharp, but they were firm.

Aizawa’s brow twitched slightly, his instinctive distrust sharpening. “And what exactly are you protecting her from?” His eyes flicked to you, still pale and shaky, and then back to Drax. “Or should I be asking — who sent you?”

Bakugou, still hovering nearby, tensed at that. His gaze darted to Drax, the same question lingering silently on his face, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Drax clasped his hands behind his back, glancing toward the horizon for a moment before answering. “There are forces older than your heroes and your villains. Forces that have been waiting for her to awaken.” He turned his head back to Aizawa. “If I wished her harm, I wouldn’t have helped her control the wings. You know that.”

Aizawa’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “Maybe. Or maybe you need her alive for something worse.”

The air between them thickened, the unspoken standoff cutting through the fading tension. All Might stepped in then, placing a hand lightly on Aizawa’s arm.

“Eraserhead,” All Might said softly, “he did help her. At least for now.”

Aizawa didn’t relax, but his eyes flicked back to you, your body still slumped against the training ground, barely holding it together. He let out a slow breath through his nose.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he muttered, eyes returning to Drax with a silent promise. “You’re coming with us for questioning. U.A. doesn’t trust strangers.”

Drax gave a small bow of his head. “Understandable. I will answer what I can.”

Bakugou shot a glance at you, watching your barely-there strength flicker like a dying flame. His voice was low, but it cut through the heavy air.

“Tch. Looks like you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, horn-head.”

Drax’s only response was a quiet nod, eyes lingering on you — as if the answers he carried weren’t going to be easy for anyone to hear.

You quietly reached out for All might, as everything became a little dizzy. “Dad..I-..” She almost fell but he caught her. “That’s the shock of someone who just experienced transformation.” Drax spoke gently. 

Aizawa’s sharp gaze flicked to Drax, still watching him like a hawk even as he hovered near your side. “She’s not your concern anymore,” Aizawa said coolly. “You’ve done enough. We’ll handle it from here.”

But Drax didn’t flinch, his attention resting on you, the faintest flicker of something like guilt hidden behind his calm expression. “She’s more than you know,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “And this is only the beginning.”

All Might’s hold on you tightened slightly, as if the weight of those words settled in his chest too. He exchanged a look with Aizawa, silent but loaded, before carefully scooping you into his arms.

“We’ll talk later,” Aizawa said to Drax, his voice final, sharp as steel. “Right now, her well-being comes first.”

Drax gave a slow nod, stepping back, finally yielding to the unspoken boundary.

You fell in and out of consciousness, and the last thing you remember was a feeling of warm hands lifting you up and holding you close.

———

“Fascinating..” Nezu spoke in his office, as you slept on the couch in the same room. “I knew my little light was special, but woah..” He gently stroked her hair. He looked over at drax, as bakugou has been sent back to his room, making him take a step back. “Tell me everything.” He finally spoke to Drax.

Drax’s expression didn’t waver, but there was the faintest crack of hesitation before he finally spoke.

“She is not what you thought her to be,” he began quietly, his voice deep but controlled. “Her blood is older than quirks, older than your society, older than humanity’s current place in the world.”

Nezu’s ears twitched slightly, but he said nothing, letting Drax continue.

“She is the daughter of Eve — the Eve,” he said, letting the name hang heavy in the air. “The same one written into your oldest human texts, the mother of mankind. Her bloodline... was never fully human to begin with. And her father—”

Drax paused, his throat tightening slightly, though his face remained composed.

“Her father is Lucifer.”

Nezu’s fingers steepled slowly, the weight of the revelation washing over him like cold rain. His mind raced, analyzing every oddity, every unexplained flicker of power or instinct you’d ever shown — and now it all clicked into place.

“So, the Morning Star and the First Woman,” Nezu mused aloud, the words almost surreal. “I assume that makes you more than just an observer.”

Drax straightened slightly, the shadows on his face deepening under the room’s dim lights.

“I am Lucifer’s right hand,” he said simply. “I was tasked with watching over her. When her time of awakening arrived, I was to retrieve her and bring her to safety. Away from those who would use her... or destroy her.”

Nezu’s dark eyes narrowed, sharp as broken glass.

“And you let her live her entire life here, unaware of any of this.”

“She was safer not knowing,” Drax answered without flinching. “Knowledge draws attention. If the other realms — Heaven, Hell, or worse — learned what she was before her wings surfaced, she wouldn’t have survived long enough to understand her own power.”

Nezu leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze flicking toward your sleeping form. His voice softened, but the steel in it remained.

“She is not a pawn. Not for Lucifer, not for you. Not for anyone.”

Drax bowed his head slightly, his voice steady.

“She is not a pawn. She is a queen.”

Nezu’s lips pressed into a thin line, the reality settling on his chest like iron. After a long pause, he nodded once.

“There is this ancient prophecy surrounding heaven and hell. One where a child was born, one so powerful she could rule over two realms, eliminating everyone in their way.” Drax looked outside the window of UA. Seeing the young man screaming at the very rightfully suspicious teacher.

“This is not her first lifetime.. Her soul is centuries old, but every time they tried getting rid of her, she just reincarnated back onto earth.” Drax looked back at Nezu, his expression so serious that Nezu’s heart began to race. “This is the first lifetime we were able to safe her when she was a child.”

Nezu’s eyes narrowed, absorbing the weight of this revelation. “A reincarnating soul… so, she’s been reborn over and over again?”

“Yes,” Drax said, his voice heavy with the centuries of watching and waiting. “Each time she returns, she’s born into a new life, with no memory of who she once was. But the moment she reaches the age of awakening, the moment her true power surfaces, they come for her. Heaven. Hell. Everyone.”

Nezu’s mind whirred, his small form suddenly brimming with questions. "And you — you've been watching her this whole time, knowing all of this?"

Drax’s gaze softened, but there was no warmth in it. Only the cold, relentless truth.

“I’ve been her guardian,” he replied quietly. “Since the day she was born. I was bound to protect her, to guide her when the time came. And this time... it was different. This time, we managed to save her before her awakening. She’s been living a normal life, thinking she’s human.”

Nezu’s eyes flicked to you again, his thoughts racing. "But now that she’s awakened... now what?"

Drax’s jaw tightened. "Now, she must learn to control her power before they find her again. And they will. The clock is already ticking."

“And that means she has to come with us. To hell.” Drax continued, looking at Nezu and then gently gazed at you. “This was not an easy decision for his majesty himself. But he loved her so much he had to let her go at the right time.” 

Drax slowly stood over nezu, glaring slightly as his own horns on his head became slightly bigger. “Never. Ever. Suggest his majesty let her go easily.” 

Nezu didn’t flinch, though his expression tightened. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, the weight of centuries of loyalty and authority pressing down like a storm cloud.

Drax’s eyes softened ever so slightly, his voice returning to a quiet seriousness. “You don’t understand what it means to care for someone the way he does. Lucifer has watched over her for lifetimes. He’s waited. And now, she is his responsibility. Not just the prophecy. But her. She is his heart.”

Nezu remained still, his eyes never leaving Drax. He understood the depths of this commitment, even if he didn’t fully agree with it. He was used to playing games of strategy, but this... this was something far more personal, something that had stakes that could shatter everything.

“I understand,” Nezu said after a moment, his voice cool, but there was an edge to it now — something heavier, more deliberate. “But don’t mistake me. I am not so naïve as to believe I can simply let her go without understanding the consequences. Lucifer’s wishes don’t dictate everything here. She is here now. She is one of us, and we will protect her. If that means keeping her away from you, or from Hell, we’ll find a way.”

“He never implied for her to go alone.” Drax gracefully made a small circle in the middle of the air, grabbing a small book out of the pocket between space and time. “We are able to travel through dimensions. Only the highest form of Royalty and his majesty’s closest companions are being teaches this technique.”

He held the book up, looking at Nezu. “She will learn of to travel through dimensions, sharpen her powers and learn the rules of the universe.” He gently laid the book down on the desk. “His majesty told me she can choose three extra people to come with her. One Adult, two kids.”

Nezu’s brow arched slightly at that, his curiosity sharpening. “Three companions?” he repeated quietly. “And these companions would be permitted to follow her into Hell? To train beside her?”

Drax nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes glinting with something sharper. “Yes. His majesty believes in choice — even if the world doesn’t. She will decide who they are. No one else.”

Nezu’s gaze flicked toward you, still resting quietly on the couch. The room felt smaller now, as if the walls themselves had absorbed the gravity of the decision looming in the near future.

“She’s still a child,” Nezu murmured, almost to himself. “The responsibility you're handing her will shape her forever.”

Drax’s voice softened, but didn’t lose its weight. “She was born with that responsibility. Now, at least, she’ll have a say in who stands beside her.”

Nezu leaned back, finally resting his paw against the desk, but not touching the book. His sharp mind was already calculating the possibilities, the risks, the consequences — and the faces of those likely to be chosen.

“She’ll need time to understand,” Nezu said after a moment. “And we’ll be ready when she does.”

Drax tilted his head slightly, his voice low. “Time isn’t something we have much of, Principal.”

The two of them sat in the heavy silence, the ancient book resting between them like an unspoken contract — your future already unfolding, even as you slept, blissfully unaware.

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@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu @erensbbg

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A/N: A little shorter than usual, it's been really busy these past few weeks, but don't worry I don't let you guys without another chapter! Enjoy, cause I'm cooking ;)

Chapter Six

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

“This isn’t good.” A god like present closed a small screen, overseeing the situation that has happened the last few days. Small locks of hair floating across their face, as they gently pushed it out of the way, tucking it behind their ear. Suddenly, an Angel that must have been 5 feet shorter than the being before her, quickly came running towards her. 

“Your Majesty!” She spoke in a hastily tone, her breath has quickened as she had been flying as fast as she could. “It’s her! She found out-!” Quick to wip their head, they summoned the one they were talking about. Suddenly, white chains surrounded a screaming woman, as they have trashed around. 

“LET ME GO!” She demanded, her hair getting caught in the chains, burning it off. “YOU SAID SHE WAS DEAD AND MADE IT TO HELL.” She yelled, scratching her knees as she launched herself at the inhuman being, who was looking at her with pity. 

“I didn’t think she was. He hid her well.” They spoke in a monotone voice, pulling up an monitor again, smiling at themselves. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kill them yet, she isn’t human after all.” “YOU MONSTER! THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!!”

The woman spat, as the godly being stomped their foot hard, silencing them. “SHE IS THE DEATH OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. She must be stopped, or would you rather have your precious husband find out with who you had an affair with? He will not take it so kindly as I did.” 

“So what? I never loved him, I was only made to be a toy. I can be so much more than that, but YOU never gave me the chance. I sinned but i’ve been forgiven but I still live in this FUCKING PRISON!” She ran at it, but got caught back by the chains.

 “ENOUGH.” The deity stood up, hovering over her. It looked slightly to the right, where one of its right hand looked directly at them. “Michael. Get one of the executors to sign up and get down at earth, you know what to do.”

Michael vanished in a cascade of golden light, leaving only a faint shimmer in his place. The divine presence turned their gaze back to the woman bound in searing white chains, her eyes filled with both fury and despair. “You will regret this,” 

she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice raw with pain. “You claim to be righteous, but all you do is destroy what you fear. You are no god—just a coward behind a throne.” The deity’s expression remained unreadable. Slowly, they descended, their feet barely touching the celestial marble beneath them. 

Their presence alone was enough to make the woman’s body tremble, the sheer weight of their power pressing down on her like an invisible force. “I am what is necessary,” they said, their voice devoid of emotion. “And you… you are a mistake that should have never been.”

“HE WILL FIND YOU. SAMAEL WILL—” Suddenly, a loud smack echoed through the kingdom, silencing the defiant cry. The force sent ripples through the celestial halls, as if the very foundations of heaven trembled in response.

“Do not bring up his name.” The deity’s voice was low, dangerous. Their hand shot forward, seizing the woman’s jaw with an iron grip, forcing her to meet their gaze. “Know your place, Eve. First woman of men kind.”

Eve panted, her breath ragged, yet her eyes burned with defiance. The deity’s grip did not loosen. Instead, they leaned in, their expression cold, detached.

“She will die,” they whispered, their tone like the final toll of a bell. “She will die because she is a venom to heaven. She will never exist again.”

Eve thrashed against the chains, her body trembling with rage and grief. “You… you’re making a mistake,” she rasped. “If you do this, nothing will hold him back. Nothing.”

The deity released her with a shove, letting her collapse onto the marble floor. “Then let him come,” they said, turning away. “Samael has no power here. And soon, neither will she.”

———

“Are you dumb or are you actually playing with me?” Bakugou grumbled annoyed, as his pencil ticked against your paper. “There is no way you think this is the correct answer.”

You rolled your eyes, finding his attitude more exhausting than anything. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you suddenly a math genius now?” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Bakugou scoffed, his crimson eyes narrowing. “I don’t need to be a genius to know you messed up basic algebra, dumbass.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil aggressively against the mistake.

After the incident a couple of months ago, Bakugou and you weirdly grew slightly closer. Oh, you two still went head-to-head over everything, but you also felt that Bakugou could at least tolerate your existence now. Maybe even respect it, in his own gruff way.

You huffed and snatched the paper back. “Alright, smartass, why don’t you show me how it’s done then?”

A cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Watch and learn.” He leaned over, quickly scribbling the correct equation down with almost unnecessary force. His shoulder brushed against yours, and though it was unintentional, neither of you moved away.

“See? Not that hard.” He shot you a triumphant look, waiting for your reaction.

You stared at the numbers on the page before sighing. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. You win this round.”

“Damn right I do.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed smugly, but there was something softer in his expression now, something almost amused.

You looked up and chuckled, throwing your eraser at his head, which he dodged with ease. “Get that smug smirk off your face.”

Bakugou scoffed, reaching for the eraser where it had landed. “Tch. You’re just mad I’m right.” He tossed it back at you, hitting you square in the forehead.

“Ow!” you glared, rubbing the spot as he smirked triumphantly.

“That’s payback.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you turned back to your paper. Maybe studying with Bakugou wasn’t so bad after all.

Just as you were about to refocus, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Aizawa stood there, arms crossed, his tired eyes fixed on you both.

“You two. Training ground. Now.” His voice left no room for argument.

You blinked. “Huh? Why?”

“Private session,” Aizawa said simply. “And Bakugou, you’re coming too. You’re the only one who can snap her out of it if things go south.”

Bakugou frowned. “Tch. What do you mean by that?”

Aizawa didn’t answer, already walking away.

You exchanged a glance with Bakugou, confusion and a bit of unease settling between you. Training wasn’t unusual, but this felt different. More serious. And the way Aizawa had said ‘if things go south’ didn’t exactly ease your nerves.

With a sigh, you stood up. “Guess we better get moving.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This better not be a waste of my damn time.”

But as the two of you made your way to the training grounds, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.

When you arrived, Aizawa was already waiting, arms still crossed, his usual tired expression laced with something more serious.

“All Might will be here in a second,” he said, eyes flicking between you and Bakugou. “Since it was proven my quirk isn’t able to stop you from going crazy, pure strength will have to do.” He gestured for you both to change into your hero suits.

You swallowed hard, exchanging another look with Bakugou before nodding. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just another training session. Something bigger was at play.

Moments later, clad in your hero suits, you stood across from Bakugou in the designated training area. Aizawa gave a simple nod before stepping back, letting the two of you take center stage.

“Alright, you two,” he called. “Nothing lethal. Control is the goal here.”

Bakugou cracked his knuckles, smirking. “Hope you can keep up, dumbass.”

You grinned, fire flickering at your fingertips. “Just try not to get burned.”

The moment Aizawa gave the signal, Bakugou lunged forward, explosions propelling him towards you. You sidestepped, barely dodging his initial strike, and retaliated with a burst of flames, forcing him to leap back. The heat radiated around you, more controlled than before, the fire curling around your arms without scorching wildly.

“You’re not flailing like last time,” Bakugou noted, blocking a fire-coated punch with his gauntlet. He shoved you back with a controlled explosion, enough to send you skidding but not enough to knock you off your feet.

You smirked, rolling your shoulders. “Maybe I’ve been paying attention.”

“Doubt it.” He shot forward again, this time feinting to the left before blasting up, aiming to come down with a powerful strike. You responded instinctively, flames surging beneath your feet to propel you upward, meeting him midair. The clash of fire and explosions sent a shockwave through the training ground, but neither of you backed down.

For the first time, you weren’t just reacting. You were fighting with precision, your fire bending to your will rather than raging uncontrollably. Bakugou noticed it too, his smirk widening as he deflected another burst of flames.

“Not bad,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But you’re still not beating me.”

You laughed, feeling the exhilaration course through your veins. “We’ll see about that.”

Aizawa watched from the sidelines, arms still crossed, his sharp eyes catching every movement. Alright arrived a few moments later, looking over at the two fighting. “Are you sure we should let her train so soon?” He questioned, worry definitely readable on his face.

“For some reason, bakugou keeps her grounded.” Aizawa answered him back. “I don’t know why, I don’t know how he does it, but he really does it.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed behind his capture weapon as he watched the spar unfold. Every movement was precise—refined. Your fire, once unpredictable and wild, now curled with intention. Controlled heat. Purpose.

But it wasn’t just the fire. It was you.

You didn’t hesitate like you used to. You didn’t let fear or doubt lead your steps. And every time your focus wavered, even slightly, Bakugou was there—charging, countering, snapping you back into the moment like a human anchor forged in explosions and spite.

“Tch,” Aizawa muttered under his breath. “I’ve seen pros with less chemistry.”

All Might leaned on the railing beside him, arms crossed, a contemplative look in his eyes. “I always knew Bakugou had raw potential… but he’s changed, hasn’t he? It’s not just about strength anymore.”

Aizawa gave a slight nod, watching as Bakugou barked something at you mid-air, the usual edge to his tone slightly dulled by—what was that? Encouragement?

“Whatever it is,” Aizawa said, “it’s keeping her from losing herself. That’s worth something.”

Your feet landed hard against the ground, heat pulsing up through your legs. Smoke curled around you, the aftershock of your last clash with Bakugou crackling through the air like static.

“Focus!” he shouted, voice cutting through the haze. “You’re drifting again!”

You snarled but nodded, brushing sweat from your brow with a swipe of your wrist. “I’m fine, damn it.”

“Didn’t look like it,” he muttered, already launching at you again. His explosions were tighter now, less destructive and more directional, meant to challenge—not hurt.

You ducked a blast, then twisted around him, flames lacing through your fingers as you skated the edge of control. The fire was hotter than ever—singing with adrenaline—but it obeyed.

Barely.

Bakugou turned mid-air, landing hard in a crouch. “That’s it,” he barked, breathless. “Make it yours. Don’t let it control you.”

You charged him, heat building at your back. A ring of fire burst outward from your feet, surging in his direction like a tide. Bakugou leapt above it, and the two of you collided mid-air again—your flame, his blast—a perfect storm. For a heartbeat, all the world was heat and light.

You crashed onto the ground with a roll, coughing but laughing under your breath. “You know,” you said, looking up at him, “for someone who acts like they hate me, you sure shout a lot of motivational speeches.”

He stood over you, hands on his hips, hair singed at the edges, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Shut up,” he said flatly. “You just suck less now.”

You snorted, flames flickering harmlessly at your sides. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

But he offered a hand to help you up anyway. You took it.

His grip was firm, grounding, and when you were back on your feet, he didn’t let go right away. Just for a second, his eyes scanned your face—checking for something. Fear, maybe. Unsteadiness. You didn’t know what he found, but he grunted, finally letting go, stepping back.

“Tch. Don’t get soft on me now.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, brushing your fingers through the smoke in the air. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Up on the platform, All Might smiled knowingly. “I think she’s found her anchor.”

“No,” Aizawa replied quietly. “She found her equal.”

——

The crackling of fire and explosions had softened now, echoing faintly across the charred training field. You and Bakugou stood a few feet apart, breathing heavily, the adrenaline finally beginning to settle in your veins.

The edge of your vision shimmered from the leftover heat, the scent of burnt ozone lingering in the air. Embers drifted lazily to the ground like falling stars, and the world felt still again. For a moment, it was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Bakugou glanced toward you, brushing ash from his gauntlet. “You’re getting faster,” he muttered, not quite a compliment—but coming from him, it might as well have been.

You grinned, about to throw some snark back when—

BOOM.

A blinding light tore through the sky.

Golden. Blistering. Divine.

It didn’t come like thunder—it was thunder. The force slammed into the ground just a few yards away from where you stood, cracking stone and sending dust and heat flying outward like a shockwave. Your instincts screamed as your flames flared to life without your permission, reacting to the sudden surge of unnatural power.

Bakugou whipped around, shielding his face with one arm. “What the—?!”

From the center of the impact, the golden light took form—elegant yet inhuman. Wings folded sharp as blades behind a tall, armored figure. Silver and gold etched down their arms like glowing veins. Their presence was holy—but cold, suffocating. Divine judgment in humanoid shape.

They didn’t speak at first.

They didn’t need to.

The pressure in the air told you everything—this being wasn’t here for a visit.

They were here for you.

“Designated target acquired,” the figure finally said, voice vibrating not just through the air—but through your bones. “Your presence defies order. You will be removed.”

There was no time to speak.

No time to question.

The moment you locked eyes with them—they moved.

Faster than human sight.

A burst of golden energy shot forward—and they were already on you.

You threw up a wall of flame, barely reacting in time. It held for a second—then shattered like glass as the being crashed through it, sending you flying backward across the field. You slammed into the dirt, rolled hard, and barely pushed yourself up before another strike came.

Bakugou launched himself into the air, roaring, “BACK OFF!”

A concussive blast shot toward the figure, forcing them to sidestep—graceful and calculated, like they had rehearsed every motion long before it happened. Still, Bakugou’s interference gave you a second to breathe.

“Move!” he shouted, landing beside you, panting. “This one’s not here to train—they’re here to erase you!”

“No kidding,” you spat, flames roaring to life around your arms, hotter than before. More alive. Your eyes glowed with heat, something primal starting to boil in your chest. This wasn’t just a fight anymore—it was survival.

The figure lifted their staff—or sword? It shifted with light—radiant, lethal, impossible to define. The glow at its edge intensified, humming with divine resonance.

In an instant, they moved again—straight toward you.

But this time—you met them head-on.

Your flame burst outward with raw force, clashing against the searing divine light of the intruder. Heat and holiness collided, scorching the battlefield in a vortex of color and energy.

Every strike from them was precise, meant to end. Every movement from you was instinct, raw power barely held in check. You ducked under a horizontal slash of their radiant weapon and let fire erupt from your feet to launch upward, twisting midair and releasing a jet of flame that crashed down toward them like a meteor.

They countered effortlessly—but the speed at which you moved now shocked even them.

You suddenly felt a piercing stab in your arm, as you we’re bleeding. You looked at your arm, but instead of the red blood you were used to, it was pitch black. “W-Whats..happening to me..”

Bakugou turned sharply, catching the way you staggered. “The hell’s going on? What happened—did he hit you?!”

You looked at him, lips trembling. “I… I think something’s wrong.”

The golden-armored attacker paused mid-step, eyes narrowing. Their blade lowered ever so slightly, their voice laced with contempt. “That isn’t human blood…”

A chill crawled up your spine.

You stared at the black fluid still dripping from your arm—and then you felt it. A flicker. Something twitching beneath your skin, like claws dragging along bone. The pain faded… but it was replaced with pressure. Your heart beat faster. Something inside your chest stirred.

“Heh…” the figure tilted their head. “It’s beginning, then.”

Bakugou was suddenly in front of you, his tone sharp. “What the hell does that mean? Beginning what?!”

The figure didn’t answer.

But your body did.

Your fingernails began to sharpen—subtle, not enough for someone untrained to notice, but Bakugou caught the change. Your eyes burned faintly, a soft crimson glow ebbing in and out like breathing embers. You could feel something inhuman curling at the edge of your mind. Unfamiliar.

A faint voice echoed inside your skull—not in words, but in emotion. Mocking. Ancient. Yours… and not yours.

“I—I don’t know what’s happening,” you whispered, grabbing Bakugou’s arm. “Something’s—inside me.”

“You’re not turning into anything,” he snapped. “Stay with me, dumbass. You’re stronger than this.”

But the figure was moving again.

They rushed forward, blade glinting with divine light—but Bakugou was already launching himself at them, fists exploding mid-air to intercept.

“You want her,” he growled, “you go through me.”

You fell to your knees behind them, clutching your arm as the black blood began to sizzle against your skin. The pressure in your chest was rising. You could feel it in your bones, in your breath—in your soul.

A part of you was waking up.

Not fully. Not yet.

But it was there now.

You clawed at your back, a scream coming out of your body as the bone snapping sound of something revealed two beautiful set of black wings. You stood there, like before, eyes pure black as you were about to pounce onto the angel, you got stopped.

Not by bakugou, not by Aizawa, no.

By something that felt like a little piece of home for some reason.

A claw held your arm, big black horns coming into view as it looking up at the angel. “Camael, I don’t appreciate you hurt his majesty’s daughter.” The creature spoke to the angel, Camael.

“Nothing personal Drax.” He spoke back, eyes full with hatred. “But she had to go. She’s a threat to Heaven.”

The mention of Heaven made your chest tighten, the words like poison on your ears. It didn’t matter what you’d become, or what you were now; the angel’s words stung deep, igniting the flames of rage inside you. But you couldn’t act on it. Not while this powerful being held you in place.

Drax’s eyes never left Camael. There was a cold, unreadable expression on his face as he stood his ground. “She will not be harmed,” Drax stated with finality. His voice was thick with authority, as though it was a decree, not a suggestion. “You’ve been warned.”

Camael scoffed, stepping forward slightly. “You think you can stop me, demon? I am a warrior of Heaven—”

“You are nothing more than a pawn,” Drax interrupted, his voice unwavering. The tension in the air thickened, crackling with a dark energy that seemed to swirl around him. “I won’t say it again. Leave.”

For a moment, everything stood still. The two beings, one of light and one of shadow, locked in an unspoken battle of wills. The ground beneath you seemed to tremble as the dark energy from Drax met Camael’s celestial power.

But despite the angel’s fiery glare, Camael didn’t make a move. There was something in Drax’s presence, an undeniable power that was not to be challenged. For all his arrogance, Camael knew when to retreat.

The angel’s wings flickered as he finally stepped back, unwilling to engage any further. “This is not over,” Camael spat, his voice seething with hate. “You cannot protect her forever.”

Drax didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as Camael spread his wings and took flight, vanishing into the sky with a blinding flash of light. Silence fell in the wake of his departure, leaving you standing, your body trembling, caught between two worlds.

As the last of the angel’s light faded, you blinked, the dark energy within you slowly simmering down, though it still burned beneath the surface. Your wings twitched again, the black feathers glinting ominously.

The dark figure—Drax—turned to you. His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice much gentler now.

You were silent for a moment, still in shock from everything that had just happened. The angel, your transformation, the sudden appearance of this demon—everything felt so surreal. But as you stared up at Drax, something about his presence, the way he was unwavering in his protection of you, made you feel an odd sense of safety.

“I… don’t know,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “What… what was that? Why did you help me?”

Drax's gaze softened ever so slightly. “I’m here to keep you safe, Princess,” he said simply, his tone devoid of emotion but carrying a weight of experience. “You have much to learn, and there are forces that want to see you destroyed. But you are not alone.”

The word Princess struck a chord in you, the significance of it making your mind reel. You had no idea what it meant, but the way Drax said it—the quiet authority in his voice—suggested something far greater than what you had imagined.

Bakugou stepped forward, a tense expression on his face. “Who the hell is this guy? Why is he calling you ‘Princess’?” He looked at you as if expecting an explanation.

You shook your head, still dazed by the events unfolding. “I… don’t know. But I don’t think he’s our enemy.”

Drax’s eyes flicked briefly to Bakugou, sizing him up, but he said nothing. His focus remained on you, the same unreadable expression on his face.

Your eyes wondered to Drax again, as allmight slowly stood behind you. “..Who are you..?”

He bowed deeply, his hand laid on top of his own heart. If he even has one.

“My name is Drax, I am the right hand man of the one who controls hell itself.” He looked up again “and you, your highness, you are the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar.”

---------

taglist:

@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu

---------

A/N: A very late birthday post! My birthday was this Monday and I also lost the original document where I store this story so I'm sorry for the delay! Do let me know what you thought of this chapter :DD

Chapter Five

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list

< Previous chapter Next chapter >

The tension in the air is awkward. It always happens when you walk into the room.

After the incident, you sat in your designated seat. You didn’t dare look any of them in the eye, especially bakugou. You had time to reflect a lot on you losing control and having burned him a lot.

Everyone ignores you too.

You noticed of course, when everyone becomes quiet when you enter. You didn’t blame them, you would have done the exact same thing if you were in their position. But it was still a bummer,

You were just started making friends

Lunch used to be one of your favorite times of the day. Now, it was unbearable.

You sat in your usual spot, tray untouched, eyes locked on the table in front of you. The low hum of chatter filled the cafeteria, but it felt distant—like you were hearing it from underwater. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that no one sat directly next to you.

Even Kaminari, who usually had no concept of personal space, was two seats away, nervously shoving rice into his mouth without looking in your direction.

You sighed, pushing a piece of food around your plate with your chopsticks. It’s not like you didn’t understand. You did. You had lost control—almost hurt people. If you were them, you’d be wary too.

Still, it stung.

You finally glanced up, scanning the room. Yaoyorozu was whispering to Jirou, who subtly glanced your way before looking back at her food. Iida was speaking with Midoriya, but his usual hand gestures were stiffer than normal. Even Uraraka, who had always been warm and welcoming, only gave you a small, uncertain smile when your eyes met.

And then there was Bakugou.

He was sitting a few tables away with Kirishima and Sero, his back to you. You hadn’t spoken since the incident—not really. His burns had healed quickly thanks to Recovery Girl, but that didn’t mean you forgot the way his suit had practically melted off his skin, the way he had looked at you in those final moments.

Like he wasn’t sure if you were still you.

The memory made your stomach twist, so you quickly looked away.

You felt his eyes burn into you as you stood up, students whispering as they looked at your every move. Of course everyone knows, rumours spread quick here. You barely made it past the cafeteria doors before a hand grabbed your wrist, halting you in place.

Your body tensed immediately—you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Oi.”

That rough, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. Not out of fear, but something else. Something you weren’t ready to name.

You swallowed and slowly turned, meeting Bakugou’s intense gaze. His red eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t exactly looking at you with his usual irritation, either.

It was something different.

“What?” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. For a second, he didn’t speak. Then, his grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely. “You gonna keep walkin’ around like a ghost forever?”

You stiffened, glancing away. “It’s none of your business.”

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Dumbass, I ain’t gonna let you mope around like some kicked dog. You think I give a shit about what happened?”

Your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly. “What?”

He scoffed. “You think you’re the first person to screw up? You think I haven’t—” He cut himself off, scowling. “Whatever. Point is, stop actin’ like everyone’s scared of you.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Aren’t they?”

Bakugou held your gaze, his jaw clenching. “I’m not.” Something about the way he said it, so blunt and firm, made your chest tighten.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he huffed and finally let go of your wrist. “Get your shit together,” he muttered before brushing past you, hands shoved in his pockets.

You stood there, staring at his back as he walked away, the warmth of his grip still lingering on your skin. A small sudden smile leaving your lips, It felt like a small weight got lifted off your shoulders.

He might be a secret softy after all.

——

“She’s moving into the dorms today” Aizawa stated in the living area, where whole class 3-A was gathered today. “I want her to feel welcomed. Just because she lost control of her quirk, doesn’t mean you should treat her any less.” He spoke with a stern voice.

“I have seen how you have been treating her and I got to say, I’m disappointed.” He sighed, beginning to walk away. “After all, true heroes would never judge” He spoke as he disappeared into his own private living area, leaving the students alone with his words and their thoughts.

The common area was unusually quiet when you stepped in, arms wrapped around a box filled with your belongings, suitcase rolling unevenly behind you. You didn’t expect a warm welcome, not after everything that had happened, but the sheer weight of the silence still pressed uncomfortably against your chest.    

You kept your head down, moving quickly toward the elevator. Just get to your room. Don’t make it worse.  

“Ah—Wait!” 

You nearly flinched when Midoriya’s voice rang out. He was already moving toward you, hands outstretched, as if hesitating to offer help. His eyes were the same as always—full of that ridiculous, unwavering kindness.  

“Here, let me take that,” he said, reaching for the box in your arms. You hesitated. “I—uh—”  “Don’t drop it, nerd,” came another voice, rough and exasperated. You turned just in time to see Bakugou stomp forward, scowl deep as ever. Before you could react, he grabbed the handle of your suitcase, yanking it from your grasp like it was his own.  

Your mouth opened, then closed again.  “What?” he grumbled, barely looking at you. “You were struggling with it.” “I wasn’t—”  

“Oh, so you wanted to carry all this yourself?”  

You clenched your jaw, but before you could respond—“Kacchan, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Midoriya said with a sigh, shifting the box in his arms. “Shut it, Deku.”  

“I was just saying—”  “Tch. Who asked you, huh?”  

Midoriya rolled his eyes. “You’re literally helping her too, Kacchan.”  

Bakugou stiffened like he’d been electrocuted. “I—That’s not—Shut the hell up!” You blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and reluctant amusement. Midoriya sighed again, clearly used to this routine. “Come on, let’s just get her stuff upstairs.”  

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue, already stomping toward the elevator with your suitcase. Midoriya gave you a small, reassuring smile before following after him.   You stood there for a second, processing.  

Your eyes slowly watering but smiling softly. You quickly wiped them away as they brought you to your dorm room. You looked around, as you noticed midoriya standing there, watching you. “I-If you don’t mind me asking, how..how did you lose control..?”

You looked at both bakugou and midoriya, as you sat on the bed. “I don’t know I just..” You fiddled with your rings. All I can remember is just straight rage..”

You looked at your hands. Blurred memories flashing in your head, as you lit up the flame slightly. The boys looked at you, carefully studying your expressions. “I’ve never felt my quirk like this before.” You looked up at them, “It was raw, but it also felt like…” You trailed off.

“More like myself. I have never felt more in touch with myself before than that day.”

Bakugou scoffed. “That’s a load of crap. You either control your quirk or you don’t.” But there was no real bite in his tone—just curiosity.

“Maybe..” Midoriya looked at the both of them. “I think- Are you certain its a quirk?” He rambled, his hands moving fast as he got nervous. “I-I mean! T-Think about it-! Mr Aizawas Quirk didn’t work-! And H-His quirk always works!!” 

You didn’t realise that you’ve been standing up, and slightly hovering over him as he scrunched down. “What do you mean aizawas quirk didn’t work?”

Silence settled over the room, thick and heavy. Midoriya swallowed hard, his fingers twitching as his mind raced to piece everything together.

“I-I mean exactly that,” he stammered, eyes darting between you and Bakugou. “Aizawa-sensei tried to erase your quirk during the incident, but… nothing happened.”

You blinked. Your heartbeat quickened. “That’s not possible,” you muttered. “His quirk has worked on me before.”

Midoriya nodded frantically. “That’s what I’m saying! It should have worked—but it didn’t. Not even for a second.” He exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself down. Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s bullshit. She’s had a quirk since day one. What the hell else could it be?”

Silence settled in the room again, but this time no one knew the answer.

——

You kept tossing and turning in your bed that night. 

You kept tossing and turning, the sheets tangled around you, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t escape. No matter how hard you tried to push them away, they clawed their way back—Aizawa’s quirk not working, the raw power you had felt, Midoriya’s worried expression.

What if he was right? What if this wasn’t just your quirk evolving?

Every time you closed your eyes, flickers of that moment returned. The heat, the certainty, the overwhelming sense that something had shifted inside you. It didn’t feel foreign. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt… like you had only just begun to wake up.

With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, running a hand through your hair. The moonlight streamed through your window, casting pale light over your room. Instinctively, your fingers traced over the burn mark on your palm.

With a huff, you threw off the covers and got to your feet. If sleep wouldn’t come, you might as well do something useful. The energy buzzing under your skin was unbearable, like a fire begging to be unleashed.

Slipping on your training gear, you made your way outside, careful not to wake anyone. The training grounds were deserted at this hour—just how you wanted it. No distractions. No eyes watching.

The second your feet hit the mat, you ignited your flames. They roared to life instantly, more intense than ever, licking up your arms as if responding to your frustration. You took a deep breath and got to work—punches, kicks, controlled bursts of fire. Each movement was sharp, deliberate, fueled by the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

Faster. Harder. Stronger.

The heat around you thickened, sweat dripping down your temple as you pushed your body past its limits. The raw power felt good—too good. Your control wavered, flames surging higher, burning brighter.

“Oi. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You froze, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Bakugou stood at the entrance of the training grounds, arms crossed, his sharp crimson eyes locked onto you. His usual scowl was there, but something else lingered beneath it—concern.

“You tryna burn the whole damn place down?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “Or are you just that much of a dumbass that you think overworking yourself in the middle of the night is a good idea?”

You wiped the sweat from your brow, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Tch. No shit.” He eyed the scorch marks on the ground, then back at you. “Your flames are different.”

You swallowed, flexing your fingers as the fire dimmed. “I know.”

Silence stretched between you before you crossed your arms, tilting your head at him. “And what about you?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing awake?”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, looking away for half a second before scoffing. “That’s none of your damn business.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to call me a dumbass for being out here, but not the other way around?”

“Tch. Shut up.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t sleeping either.”

That made you pause.

You had expected a brush-off, an insult, maybe even an explosion—but not honesty.

Your arms loosened slightly. “Bad dreams?” He clicked his tongue again, looking off to the side. “Something like that.”

A beat of silence.

Then, with a sharp breath, Bakugou rolled his shoulders and dropped into a stance, popping his knuckles. “You wanna push yourself? Fine. But you’re not gonna do it like an idiot.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Let’s train.”

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before mirroring his stance. “Fine,” you muttered, tightening your fists. “But don’t go easy on me.”

Bakugou smirked, a flicker of excitement flashing in his eyes. “As if I ever would.”

Without warning, he lunged. You barely had time to react before he was in your space, throwing a quick, testing jab toward your ribs. You twisted just in time, flames sparking at your fingertips as you countered with a sharp kick aimed at his side. He dodged, a small explosion bursting from his palm as he propelled himself backward.

“Your reaction time’s slow,” he taunted. “You hesitated.”

You scoffed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Yeah? You talk too much.”

A burst of fire shot from your hands as you lunged forward, feinting left before twisting at the last second, aiming a punch toward his shoulder. But he was ready. He caught your wrist, the heat from your flames barely phasing him, and yanked you off balance. You hit the mat with a grunt, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.

“See? Hesitated again.” He smirked, offering a hand. “You’re thinking too much.”

You glared up at him but took his hand anyway, letting him pull you up. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t barking in my ear every two seconds.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, get over it.” His smirk faded slightly as he crossed his arms, eyeing you with something close to curiosity. “You’ve been weird lately.”

You tensed. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it, dumbass,” he shot back. “You’re holding back, but at the same time, you’re not. It’s like you don’t even know your own power right now.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “Maybe I don’t.”

Bakugou frowned, silent for a moment. Then he scoffed. “Tch. That’s dumb. You do.”

Your eyes snapped up to him. “What?”

His gaze was steady, unwavering. “You’re acting like you’re lost or some shit, but I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen how you move, how you burn.” His voice was firm, like he was stating an undeniable fact. “This isn’t about not knowing your power. It’s about you being too scared to accept it.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

Something had changed inside you, something deeper than just your quirk. But you weren’t sure if you were ready to face what that really meant.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You wanna figure this out? Then stop overthinking and fight like you mean it.” He popped his knuckles again, dropping back into his stance. “Now get up. We’re not done.”

You let out a slow breath, rolling your shoulders.“Fine,” you muttered, flames sparking to life once more.

Bakugou’s smirk widened as he watched the fire in your eyes finally match the flames in your hands. “That’s more like it.”

The two of you circled each other, the air between you charged with something electric—something unspoken. You didn’t know if it was the heat from your flames or the sheer intensity of his presence, but in that moment, nothing else existed. Just the fight. Just the fire.

You lunged first, no hesitation this time. Bakugou met you head-on, explosions igniting in his palms as the battle between you burned into the night.

And through it all, that damn smirk never left his face.

---------

taglist:

@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu

---------

A/N: I didn't abandon this story I promise!! I've been really busy and my birthday is next week so I'm prepping for that! Hope you enjoyed :)

Chapter four

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he took an involuntary step back. His heart pounded in his chest, not from exertion—but from something else. Something unfamiliar.

Fear.

Your eyes, usually burning with confidence, had turned pitch black, like the void of a starless night. The flames surrounding you crackled with wild, erratic energy, shifting from blue to a light blue, then flickering into white for a split second. The air around you was suffocating, heavy with something unnatural.

“The hell is this?” Bakugou muttered, his voice quieter than usual. He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.

Aizawa stood up, straightened his posture as he felt the shift in this fight. He looked at the side where Present Mic was standing. “Those flames aren’t the ones we are used to..” Aizawa pointed out, paying extra attention now, his fingers tensed, already preparing to activate his quirk again if necessary.

You put a small step forward, those steps being uneven making you look like a zombie. Your flames shining brighter than ever. All of the sudden a slash of flames, hotter than the sun, came over towards bakugou, as he could dodge it just on time.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” he barked, flipping mid-air before landing in a crouch. His chest heaved, adrenaline spiking in a way he did not like.

That wasn’t a normal attack. That was something deadly.

He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus despite the sting across his face. His skin burned just from being near it. He grit his teeth. “Oi! What the hell are you—?!”

He stopped in his tracks, as you stood in front of him, your hair burning, no—

Floating.

He looked closely to your forehead, a massive scar ran from side to side. It looked like barbed wire running across it. But the weirdest part was not the scar itself

But that it in fact was glowing.

Your hands were covered in flames, almost grabbing bakugou when he suddenly got pushed to the side. Midoriya tackled him on the ground as she nearly hit him.

Bakugou hit the ground with a grunt, the weight of Midoriya keeping him down just long enough to avoid your outstretched, burning hands. The heat from your flames still singed the air above him, and for a split second, he could feel the searing intensity brush past his face.

“The hell, Deku?!” Bakugou barked, shoving Midoriya off him.

Midoriya scrambled up, his eyes frantic. “You weren’t moving!” he shouted, his gaze darting back to you.

Your flames had completely lost their shape. The white-hot fire around you swirled chaotically, licking at the air with a hunger that didn’t seem normal. Your stance was unsteady, your breath uneven. And those eyes—the ones that weren’t yours but somehow were yours at the same time—fixed on the two of them with something unrecognisable.

Aizawa’s sharp eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. The intensity of your flames, the unnatural way they moved—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t just a quirk going out of control. Something deeper was happening.

Without hesitation, he activated Erasure. His hair whipped upwards, his crimson gaze locking onto you as his quirk flared to life.

Nothing happened.

Aizawa’s stomach dropped.

Your flames didn’t even flicker. They roared, surging higher, feeding off some unseen force. His Erasure should have worked. It always worked. So why—?

“Shit.” Aizawa immediately reached for his capture weapon, swinging it toward you with practiced precision. If he couldn’t shut your quirk down, he’d have to contain you.

But the second the cloth neared your flames—It disintegrated.

Aizawa barely had time to react before a wave of scorching heat blasted toward him. He jumped back, dodging it by inches, but even then, the air stung against his skin. “Sensei!” Midoriya’s panicked voice rang out as he forced himself up. His eyes darted from Aizawa to you, horror settling into his expression. “Your Erasure—why didn’t it work?!”

Aizawa didn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenched as he landed in a low stance, calculating his next move. Why didn’t it work?

Aizawa quickly switched gears. He wouldn’t be able to neutralize your quirk—but he could subdue you. His capture weapon might not hold, but if he could get close enough—

Before he could act, a sudden, piercing shriek filled the air.

Not from you.

From the fire itself.

The white-hot flames surged violently, expanding outward like a living creature—lashing at the ground, leaving behind deep scorch marks. The entire battlefield was becoming unstable.

Aizawa’s eyes widened slightly. This had to stop.

“Everyone, back up!” he commanded, his voice sharp and unwavering. His gaze flickered to the staff area, where the pro heroes were now on their feet. “We need reinforcements—NOW.”

Bakugou, despite his injuries, growled. “Like hell I’m backing down!”

Aizawa shot him a deadly glare. “That’s an order, Bakugou. This isn’t just a fight anymore.” Bakugou gritted his teeth but didn’t argue further. He wasn’t stupid—he knew when shit was bad.

And right now?

This was a whole new level of dangerous.

Alarms went off, and the students were ushered behind them.

“We can help!” Iida screamed as Midnight held him back. She shook her head.

“This is bigger than you all. I trust you with my life, but this girl—” she pointed at you, half-drowning in your own flames—“this has never happened before! Do not do anything irrational for our sake!” she cried, trying to create distance between the flames and the students.

Suddenly, a flame was being thrown towards them

“Duck!!” Present Mic screamed, Activating his quirk as they all ducked on the ground.

“MOVE!”

All Might was already in motion, his body a blur as he leaped into the air. Even in his weakened state, his instincts were razor-sharp. With a single, powerful swing of his arm, he sent a burst of wind toward the oncoming flames, redirecting them just before they could consume the students.

The fire scattered, but it didn’t go out. It didn’t even weaken.

All Might landed in a crouch, his expression grim as he took in the battlefield. “These flames… they’re not normal.” His voice was tense, low, nothing like his usual booming confidence.

Aizawa grit his teeth, keeping his stance low. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Deku and Bakugou were still near the front, their bodies coiled and ready for action despite the obvious danger. Deku’s hands clenched into trembling fists, his mind racing at a million miles per second.

This isn’t normal—this isn’t normal—what’s happening to her?!

He’d never seen flames like these, not even from Todoroki. They were alive, writhing unnaturally, burning hotter than anything he’d ever felt. And your eyes—

“Shit,” Bakugou muttered beside him, wiping at the sweat dripping down his face. His usual arrogance had been replaced with something sharper, more serious. “She’s losing it.”

Aizawa didn’t take his eyes off you, already preparing to counter whatever happened next. “She’s not just losing it,” he said, voice grave. “She’s burning herself out.”

All Might straightened, his fists tightening at his sides. “We need to get her under control before she burns everything—including herself— to the ground.”

Just as he said it, a new presence entered the battlefield.

Aizawa’s eyes flickered toward the side as Endeavor stormed onto the scene, his own flames roaring to life. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his posture—something different. He wasn’t here just as a hero.

He was here because he recognized exactly what was happening. “Step back.” His voice was deep, final. “I’ll handle this.”

Bakugou scoffed, still panting from the fight. “Yeah? Where the hell were you before this got outta hand?”

Endeavor ignored him, his piercing gaze locked solely on you. All might stood next to him, protecting bakugou and deka from the flames. Everyones gaze locked onto you,

Until you suddenly weren’t there

You moved quickly, as a white fire wip grabbed endeavours arm, as if it saw him as an enemy and not an ally

Endeavor barely had time to react before the white-hot flame wrapped around his arm, tightening like a vice. The heat was unbearable—even for him. This wasn’t normal fire. With a sharp grunt, he wrenched his arm free, his flames flaring in retaliation. But as soon as he turned, you were gone again.

Fast. Too fast.

"Where—?"

"Above!"

All Might’s voice rang out just in time. Endeavor’s instincts kicked in, and he barely managed to twist to the side before you came down like a meteor, flames crashing into the ground where he had just stood. The earth cracked under the force of your attack, a shockwave of searing heat forcing everyone nearby to stumble back..

Your face was eerily blank. No recognition. No hesitation. Just raw, uncontrolled instinct.

And the fire was moving on its own.

That was the real problem. It was acting like it had a mind of its own, striking out without you even needing to direct it. Like it had decided Endeavor was a threat—on its own. All Might’s voice was tense, urgent. “We can’t let this continue.” But before anyone could make a move, a new voice cut through the chaos.

“OI!”

Everyone’s heads snapped toward Bakugou. He was already moving. Ignoring the heat, ignoring the flames, he charged straight toward you. “Kacchan! stop!” Midoriya’s voice was desperate, but Bakugou didn’t even hesitate.

He saw it—what the others didn’t.

Yeah, the flames were out of control. Yeah, you weren’t responding. But you hadn’t attacked him. Not with this hateful purpose he saw with endeavour anyways

He wasn’t the enemy.

“Snap the hell out of it!” His voice was raw, loud enough to punch through the roaring flames.

But you didn’t react.

Bakugou gritted his teeth. Fine. If words weren’t enough—

He grabbed your wrist. A shockwave of heat burst from your skin, sending sparks flying as his glove instantly caught fire. The smell of burning fabric hit the air, but he didn’t let go.

“You hear me?! Cut this shit out already!”

Your body jerked.

The flames stuttered.

For the first time, your blank eyes flickered.

Not black.

Not empty.

Yours.

And just like that—

The fire collapsed.

The white-hot flames vanished, pulling inward as if a switch had been flipped. The battlefield fell silent. The only sound was your sharp, ragged breathing.

The weirdest part was

You weren’t burned at all.

Your legs buckled, and Bakugou caught you before you could hit the ground. His hand was badly burned, but he barely reacted, just grumbling under his breath as he steadied you.

“Dumbass,” he muttered. “Next time, warn us before you go nuclear, yeah?”

You cracked a tired smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “You think I wanted to go all ‘nuclear’?”

Your body was slowly giving out, but through the blur of your vision, you could see All Might running toward you. He gently picked you up from Bakugou’s arms as you lulled into sleep against him.

“Dad..” Was the last thing you said before hearing someone scream “someone warn recovery girl!”

And everything went black.

——

The first thing you felt was a soft paw on your hand, indicating that nezu had heard about the incident. 

Of course he knows

You blinked slightly, the bright light shining too bright for your liking in your eyes. Shifting slightly, you moved to see Nezu at the side of your bed, worry seeable in that expression of his.

You smiled weakly in your pillow, looking at him. “It feels like a truck just drove through my body..” You groaned, “what happened..?”

“You lost control,” Aizawa said bluntly, his tired eyes scanning you. “Badly.”

Your head pounded as the memories came rushing back. The heat. The flames licking at your skin. The way everything had blurred together in a haze of white fire. You had never felt that kind of power before—it had been overwhelming, all-consuming.

“God..” You shot up but winced, “Is everyone okay?? Did someone get hurt??” You panicked as nezu grabbed your hand tighter.

“Calm yourself,” he said, voice gentle but firm. “Panicking will only make things worse.”

You forced yourself to take a breath, your body still trembling from exhaustion. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of disaster. “But—my flames—”

“No one was seriously hurt,” Aizawa interrupted, his gaze heavy. “Some minor burns, a few close calls, but nothing fatal.”

Your heart pounded. “I—”

“You lost control,” he said, tone blunt but not unkind. “But you didn’t completely lose yourself. You didn’t attack anyone directly.”

That should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. Your hands curled into fists against the blanket. “That doesn’t change the fact that I could have.”

“It doesn’t,” Nezu agreed, but his eyes—calculating and impossibly sharp—held something else. “Which is why we need to figure out why this happened and how to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Endeavor scoffed from where he stood, arms still folded. “It was rage. Pure and simple.”

You turned to glare at him, anger bubbling beneath your skin despite your exhaustion. “You think I wanted to lose control?”

“I think you let it consume you,” he replied coldly. “I’ve seen it before.”

Your fingers twitched, flames threatening to spark at your fingertips before you took a deep breath and forced them down. Nezu tilted his head, watching you closely. “This isn’t just about anger, is it?”

You hesitated. The truth was, you didn’t know. It had been rage—anger at Bakugou, at the past, at yourself—but it had been something more, something deeper. Something you still couldn’t explain.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. “For now, just rest. We’ll deal with this when you’re stronger.”

You wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the exhaustion was already pulling you down again. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly. Nezu finally released your hand, offering you a small smile. “We’ll figure this out together.”

You sighed as everyone left the room, your head hitting the pillow as you could only think of the disaster that happened today. ‘My new friends are going to hate me..’ She mumbled softly, as she closed her eyes again, letting sleep take her away again.

——

Screams. That was all she could hear.

The air reeked of burning flesh, though she wasn’t sure if it was hers. Heat rippled through the darkness, pressing against her skin like a living thing, whispering against her ears like voices from the abyss. She touched her cheek—her skin was intact, yet the sensation of melting wouldn’t fade.

Then, through the inferno, a figure emerged. Cloaked in shadow and fire, its presence commanded the very flames to part around it. It moved with an unnatural grace, as if the world bent to its will.

“Do not be afraid, princess,” the figure spoke, its voice a deep, silken purr that sent ice down her spine despite the unbearable heat. “When the time is right, I will come for you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. There was something wrong with its presence, something ancient and absolute. The way it stood—poised, patient, knowing—made her feel as though this moment had already been decided, written in fire and brimstone long before she was even born.

She wanted to move, to run, but the ground beneath her was no longer solid. The flames curled at her feet like living tendrils, waiting. Watching.

The figure took another step forward, and the fire pulsed with it, as if bound to its will. She could see its face now—or what should have been a face. Instead, shifting darkness obscured its features, except for its eyes. Two burning pits of gold, glowing with something far worse than malice. Devotion.

“I serve only my master,” the figure murmured, tilting its head. “And you, my dear, belong to him.”

The fire surged, and suddenly, a hand—its hand—reached for her. The moment its fingers brushed against her skin, a searing pain exploded through her palm, as if hell itself had branded her. The agony pulled a scream from her throat, but the sound was swallowed by the inferno.

She was falling.

Falling into him. Into his world.

And then—

She woke up.

Gasping, her body jerking upright, the darkness of her room pressing in around her. The flames were gone, but her skin still burned. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath uneven.

She looked down at her trembling hand.

A fresh burn mark had appeared on her palm, the imprint of an outstretched hand. The pain was dull now, but the heat still smoldered beneath her skin, a silent reminder of what had touched her. She clenched her fingers, but the mark remained, unmoving—a brand, a promise, a warning. Something was going on.

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taglist:

@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu

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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment behind :)!

Chapter 3

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

“Are you absolutely 100% sure you want to do this?” Uraraka asked nervously, fidgeting with her own suit.

You transformed into your own suit—a sleek black bodysuit adorned with small blue flames flickering across the fabric. A massive belt wrapped tightly around your waist, while a mask, designed to protect you from the ashes of your quirk, was securely fastened to your face.

“I am sure, someone has to put him in his place” you rolled her eyes, as you stretched a little. “I won’t let him bully someone, even if that someone is used to it, no.”

Yaoyorozu crossed her arms, concern clear in her expression. “I understand wanting to stand your ground, but Bakugou isn’t an opponent to take lightly.”

You rolled your shoulders, the fabric of your suit flexing with the movement. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” you said, adjusting the mask on your face.

“Just..be careful.” Uraraka warned her, smiling at her softly. “All the girls believe in you.”

You looked back at her, as you smiled. Giving her a thumbs up. Uraraka looked at her with a small disbelief, but she could see she was trained very well.

After all that smile was exactly like All-Mights.

——

As you tied your hair in a ponytail, your bangs still covering your forehead as you prepared for the fight, Todoroki approached, his usual calm expression unreadable. His heterochromatic eyes flicked toward Bakugou, who was stretching across the field, sparks popping off his palms in anticipation.

“You’re really going through with this?” Todoroki asked, his voice even but carrying an edge of curiosity.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders. “Yeah. Someone needs to knock that ego down a few notches.”

Todoroki studied you for a moment before speaking again. “Your quirk… You said before that you trained with my father.” His voice was measured, but there was a slight tension underneath.

Your jaw clenched instinctively. “Yeah. I did.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Then you know what he’s like.”

A bitter chuckle escaped you as you secured your mask again. “Oh, trust me, I know. I get why you and your siblings want nothing to do with him.” You glanced at him, your flames flickering to life at your fingertips. “Training with Endeavor wasn’t learning—it was survival.”

Todoroki’s expression hardened slightly, but there was something else there—understanding. A quiet, unspoken acknowledgment between two people who knew exactly what kind of man Endeavor was.

Before he could reply, Bakugou’s voice cut through the air. “Oi! Hurry the hell up! Unless you’re already chickening out.” You smirked, stepping forward. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

Todoroki gave you a small nod, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Just don’t let him get under your skin. He feeds off of it.”

You glanced back, grinning. “I’m counting on it.” Then, without another word, you strode onto the battlefield.

——

You stood a few paces away from bakugou, seeing him yet not close enough to really see him. You count to ten, feeling some of the teachers gaze on your back. ‘Swift and fast’ you thought, as you heard aizawa slowly count from 10 to 0.

“3..2..1..now!” He screamed, taking a step back.

Bakugou strode immediately in your direction, using his explosions to boost himself as quickly as possible at you. You concentrated on your hands as you created a wall of blue fire, giving you a small advantage of getting in his blind spot.

“THE HELL?!” He screamed, as the flames dissolved, leaving the area empty. He looked up, suddenly seeing you charging from the sky towards him to kick his face. He grabbed your boot just in time before it could do serious damage. 

You twisted your leg, using your free one to kick his cheek, making him let go of your other leg.

Bakugou stumbled back slightly, his teeth gritted as he wiped at the faint red mark forming on his cheek. His crimson eyes flickered with something between annoyance and excitement.

“Tch, not bad,” he admitted, cracking his neck. “But you’re gonna regret that.”

Before you could respond, he launched himself forward, explosions propelling him at a speed that made the ground crack beneath him. You barely had time to brace before he was on you, swinging a fist aimed right at your ribs.

You twisted at the last second, dodging most of the impact, but the heat still seared against your side. Gritting your teeth, you countered by igniting your flames in a burst, forcing him to jump back to avoid getting burned.

You panted, your chest rising and falling as flames burst from your fists, striking toward Bakugou like whips of fire. But he was fast—too fast. He weaved through them effortlessly, each explosion from his palms propelling him just out of reach.

Before you could adjust your aim, he was suddenly in front of you.

“Too slow.”

His hand clenched your collar, yanking you forward before slamming you down with brutal force. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, dust and embers scattering in the air as pain jolted through your back.

Bakugou didn’t let go, leaning in with a wild grin. “What? Thought you had me?” His grip tightened. “Not even close.”

You groaned, eyes locking onto Bakugou despite the pain radiating through your back. Instead of struggling, you smirked.

“You hit like a man trying to prove something.”

And to everybody’s surprise, you head bunked him so hard that it caught him of guard. You pulled your legs towards your own body and kicked his chest hard, getting him off from you. As he flew back, you send him a wave of fire, burning some of his suit.

Standing up, slightly stumbling because of using your head to defend yourself, you wiped the blood from your nose, smirking badly. “Is that all you got?”

Bakugou caught himself mid-air, flipping before skidding across the ground, smoke rising from the scorched parts of his suit. His breath was heavy, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before they narrowed into something more dangerous.

Slowly, he wiped at his mouth, noticing the faint trace of blood on his glove. Then, he started laughing. Low at first, then louder, a wild, almost unhinged grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, you’re dead.”

He charged at you, explosions propelling him forward like a missile. The heat from his blasts burned against your skin before his fist even got close. You quickly created distance, your hands moving like you are grabbing a pole, as flames manifested in your hands, creating a whip. 

Your whip catches his arm, burning through his clothes. He yelped, but tugged it forward catching you off guard and wrapped the whip around your neck, choking you a bit. You unleased the whip as you gasped for air, feeling the skin of your neck burning.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate—he launched himself forward, aiming a brutal right hook at your face.

At the last second, you ducked, sliding beneath him as you ignited the flames around your hands. With a swift motion, you drove a Flame-coated Uppercut into his stomach, sending a shockwave of heat between you both.

Bakugou grunted, his body lifting slightly from the impact, but he recovered fast. His hands sparked violently as he spun mid-air, twisting to send an explosion straight at you.

You barely had time to react. The blast struck your side, sending you skidding across the ground, your suit slightly charred. The smell of burnt fabric filled the air, mixing with the heat of battle.

Panting, you wiped the blood trickling from your lip and pushed yourself up. Bakugou was already grinning, cracking his knuckles.

"You still breathing?" he taunted, his crimson eyes gleaming with excitement.

You smirked, rolling your shoulders. "You’re gonna wish I wasn’t.”

Your fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling back. But you weren’t done. Twisting mid-air, you brought your knee up hard into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. As he staggered, you spun and delivered a flaming roundhouse kick to his side, sending him crashing into the ground.

"Where’s all that confidence now, Bakugou?" you taunted, breathing heavily but steady.

Before you could react, Bakugou caught your wrist and twisted, yanking you forward before slamming you into the ground. The impact sent a shock through your body, knocking the air from your lungs. You barely had time to gasp before he pressed a knee into your back, pinning you down with his weight. His breath was hot against your ear, voice low and sharp.

"You think fire makes you strong? Please. You’re just a failure who can’t even control it."

Your body stiffened.

That wasn’t just Bakugou’s voice—it was a ghost from your past, bleeding into the present.

“You're just a failure if you can't control it.”

A tiny figure stood in front of a wooden target, burns covering her arms as she was sweating. The Number Two Hero looked down at the little lady, a scowl visible on his face. 

“You think you can become the number one with those pathetic kind of moves?” 

Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling into fists. She wanted to scream. To cry. To fight back. But she knew better.

Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze, her lip trembling but her eyes burning with something deeper.

She would get stronger. She would prove him wrong.

Even if it killed her.

——

Bakugou smirked as he pinned you down again, this time with no room for escape. His hands sparked with small explosions, the heat grazing your skin, but he didn’t let them go off just yet.

"Tch. That all you got?" His voice dripped with arrogance, crimson eyes glaring down at you. "All that fire, all that talk, and you still can’t keep up."

Your breath was ragged, your limbs aching, but his words burned worse than any of his explosions. You struggled against his grip, but he didn’t budge.

Then, he leaned in closer, voice dropping low.

"You’re just a failure if you can’t control it.” He repeated again, Your entire body went still.

A sharp ringing filled your ears. The world around you blurred. The weight of Bakugou pressing you down melted away, replaced by something heavier.

The memory crashed into you, sudden and suffocating. The scent of burnt skin. The crushing disappointment in Endeavor’s glare. The suffocating pressure of not being enough. Your vision flickered. The present wavered.

Then, fire erupted.

A blast of pure, untamed heat exploded from your body, the sheer force sending Bakugou flying back. He barely managed to brace himself before skidding across the battlefield, eyes wide in surprise. You pushed yourself up, slow and steady, your body trembling but your flames burning brighter than ever.

Your fingers twitched, sparks of fire getting ignited all across the room. Controlled? No. But this time, you didn’t care.

Bakugou was just about to bark something back, but stopped at his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked into hers.

Cause they weren’t her usual color, they were pitch black.

Something was very, very wrong.

---------

taglist:

@graythecoffeebean

---------

A/N: I love imagining fight scenes in my head, but actually writing them are always harder when English is your second language- I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Can't wait to share more of it.

please let me know if you wanna be in the taglist!

Chapter Two

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

---------

The moment class started you knew it would be heavy. Not because of the material or classes you had to take, oh no you had those in the bag. 

But because of the damn stares.

‘Not only was my entrance dramatic, but this dumbass really has a staring problem..’ She whispered to herself as she began writing down the material Aizawa was talking about. The stares of the explosive blond were glaring holes into her back. It was so bad, it felt like he was actively making holes into your body.

You looked around, half interested in what aizawa was saying but more interested in what was sitting around you.

As instructed by nezu, you sat in the far front. With besides you a sort French aesthetic kind of student, who winked at you as he noticed you looked at him. You shivered slightly, something tells you that even with his appearance you should keep a distance from him.

Behind him sat a guy with a lighting bolt in his hair, one of his hands was in his hair as the other was scribbling to keep up with aizawa, who has continued with his talk with no sign of stopping.

“Pssst” a noise krept from behind you. You turned your body slightly turning back to see a pink skinned girl staring at you with a whole lot of curiosity. “It’s so random a new student joins our class so in the middle of the school year, I’m Mina Ashido! But everyone calls me mina.”

She grinned, resting her chin on her hand as she kept her eyes locked on you. “Sooo? What’s your Quirk?” she whispered, completely ignoring the lesson happening at the front of the room.

You hesitated, not sure whether to answer with Aizawa still talking. Before you could decide, the student beside you shifted slightly. With his glittering uniform and confident smirk, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover rather than in a classroom.

“Mina, mon cher, you’re overwhelming them,” he said smoothly, flashing you a wink. “I am Yuga Aoyama. Enchanté.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re fancy,” Denki muttered from behind him, lazily spinning his pen between his fingers. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? It’s gotta be something cool if they let you transfer into 3-A this late.”

Mina nodded eagerly, eyes gleaming. “Right?! I mean, you must be crazy strong or super smart or—”

A dry voice interrupted from the front. “Ashido. Kaminari. Do you enjoy being distractions?”

Mina’s mouth snapped shut as Aizawa’s gaze landed on her. Denki immediately straightened in his seat, eyes darting back to his notes. Aoyama, on the other hand, only gave a slow, deliberate flip of his hair before turning forward again.

The classroom settled back into silence, except for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional creak of a chair. Mina shot you a side glance, mouthing, Tell me later.

As lunchtime approaches, you stood still with a tray of your lunch as you looked like a deer in headlights.

‘So many tables..’ You thought, as you walked around, trying to spot mina.

“OVER HERE!!” A female voice shouted as mina waved excitedly to you, trying to get you over at the lunch table.

Relieved, you quickly made your way toward Mina’s table, weaving through the maze of students. As you approached, you noticed she wasn’t alone—several of your classmates were already seated with her.

“Finally! I thought you’d get lost or something,” Mina teased as she scooted over to make room for you. “Come sit!”

You carefully placed your tray down and took a seat, still feeling a little out of place. Across from you, Denki grinned. “First lunch with the squad, huh? Big moment.”

Next to him, the spiky red head, Kirishima, gave you a friendly nod. “Don’t worry, everyone here’s cool. Except Bakubro.” He laughed, dodging a half-hearted kick from the explosive blonde sitting at the edge of the table.

“Shut up, idiot.”

You finally allowed your eyes to rest on bakugou. His blond hair was ashy and spiky, which weirdly suited him. He had broad shoulders, but to be fair everyone had that in the hero course. They trained you to the bone at U.A, she heard the teacher enough about the exams and what they plan every year.

But the thing that pulled you the most were those eyes.

Crimson eyes, with a hardend gaze.

“You have a staring problem extra?” Bakugou pulled you out of your thoughts. You smirked, clearly liking a challenge. “Should we reverse that question over to you? Hm? I saw you staring the entirely of class, not so slick dude.”

The table collectively went, "Oooooh," as they watched the interaction unfold like an intense showdown. Mina covered her mouth, barely containing her laughter, while Denki leaned in, clearly entertained. Even Kirishima, who usually played peacemaker, smirked as he watched Bakugou's reaction.

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his grip tightening around his chopsticks. “Tch. Like I’d waste my time staring at some extra like you.” He scoffed, turning his attention back to his food, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed.

“Oh yeah?” You leaned on your elbow, resting your chin in your palm. “Then what’s got you so worked up, Bakugou?” You purposely dragged out his name, watching for a reaction.

Denki almost choked on his drink, and Mina had to slap his back to keep him from making a scene. “Yo, I like them,” he wheezed between coughs. “Finally, someone who isn’t scared to mess with Bakugou.”

Bakugou set his chopsticks down with a loud clack, eyes flicking back to you. “Keep running your mouth, and we’ll see how funny you are during training.” His tone was low, dangerous—yet, there was something else beneath it, something almost… intrigued.

You simply smirked, unbothered. “Looking forward to it.”

Kirishima let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “Man, you’ve got guts. Most people don’t go head-to-head with Bakugou unless they wanna get blown up.”

Mina elbowed you playfully. “Yeah, but I kinda love it! We needed some fresh energy in 3-A.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. “Like I care. If they wanna get their ass kicked, that’s their problem.” He grabbed his tray and stood up, shoving his hand into his pockets as he walked off without another word.

You watched him go, noting the slight stiffness in his posture. Interesting.

Denki leaned toward you with a conspiratorial grin. “Sooo, what’s the deal? You got a death wish, or do you just like pissing him off?”

You chuckled. “He’s easy to piss off, you can see that from a mile away” 

Mina laughed, nudging your shoulder. “Okay, okay, enough about Bakugou before he somehow hears us and explodes something.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? You’ve been here half a day, and we still don’t know!”

The tall one with black hair and can shoot tape out of his elbow, Sero, chimed in as well. “And what’s up with you knowing all these teachers? I’ve seen them look at you-“

You laughed softly, putting your chopsticks down. “Well,” you started, “The reasons I know almost all pro heroes is because of my adoptive parent, Principal Nezu.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, nearly dropping his drink. “Wait, what?!” he blurted out, leaning forward like he hadn’t heard you right. “You’re telling me Nezu—our Principal Nezu—is your adoptive parent? That’s insane!”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as his brows furrowed in curiosity. “Wait, hold on,” he said, eyes locked on you. “Does that mean you grew up at U.A.? Like, did you just… run around the school as a kid?”

You chuckle, “Technically I did, My quirk developed when I was around 3 years old, it was really destructive and out of control, so after classes nezu would always send someone to train with me.” You played with your food a bit, the rice going back and forth. “I trained a lot with all might, but also with endeavour, since it does resolve around fire..” You slowly turned a bit quiet, remembering a bit of the old times.

Mina’s eyes widened as she nearly dropped her chopsticks. “Wait, WHAT?!” she practically shouted, earning a few glances from nearby tables. She ignored them, leaning in closer with an excited gasp. “You trained with All Might and Endeavor? That’s not just cool—that’s, like, insane!”

She reached out and lightly shook your arm. “Dude! That’s top-tier hero training! No wonder you got into 3-A so easily!”

But then, as she watched you quietly push your rice around, her excited energy softened just a bit. She tilted her head, her big golden eyes studying you carefully. “Wait… was that, like… a good thing? Or was it, y’know, hard?”

Mina wasn’t the type to pry, but she also wasn’t the type to ignore when something felt off. So instead of bombarding you with more questions, she simply nudged you with her shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, no pressure, but if training with those guys sucked, you totally have the right to say it.”

Then, as if to lighten the mood again, she smirked. “But also, real talk—was Endeavor as scary back then as he is now? Be honest.”

You sighed, “lets just say… I get why his kids aren’t talking to him anymore or at least as possible.”

Denki let out a low whistle. “Yikes. That bad, huh?”

Kirishima frowned, crossing his arms. “Man… that’s rough. I always figured he was tough, but—” he shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the good kind of tough.”

Sero sighed, propping his chin on his hand. “Can’t say I’m surprised. The guy’s intense in all the wrong ways.”

Mina pouted, resting her cheek on her palm. “Ugh, that sucks. No kid deserves that.” Then, after a beat, she perked up. “But hey, you got out of it way cooler than him, sooo… win?”

Denki grinned. “Yeah! You turned out awesome despite all that. Kinda badass, not gonna lie.”

The table hummed in agreement, their support loud in their own way.

You smiled softly, the tension that had been building up easing out of your shoulders. You looked at the squad and laughed softly. You could get used to this

When the lunch period was finished and everyone resumed back into their respectable classrooms, aizawa announced that is was highly time to train. He stood in front of your desk, his gaze softer than normal with other students.

“You can watch if you want, but if you decide to fight than just now I won’t put you against an easy person. I know you can handle the top of the top here.”

Midoriya perked up at Aizawa’s words, turning toward you with wide eyes. “Whoa, Aizawa-sensei must really believe in your skills if he’s saying that!” His expression shifted into one of deep thought, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to start scribbling in his notebook.

“I mean, it’s rare for him to just say something like that outright… You must have already shown some serious potential for him to trust you against the strongest students in our class!” He muttered under his breath, glancing at you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.

Mina smirked, leaning toward you. “He’s totally trying to analyze you already.”

You laughed, waving at midoriya. “I bet your quirk is just as awesome!” You compliment him, making him blush slightly and bakugou scowl. You turn your head towards him, one of your eyebrows raised to him. “What?” You started.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, arms crossed as he shot you an irritated glare. “Tch. Don’t go filling Deku’s head with crap.”

Midoriya tensed slightly. “Kacchan, that’s not—”

You slowly walked over to bakugou, your hands on top of his desk. “What, did I bruise your ego or something?”

The class collectively oohed at your boldness, while Mina practically vibrated with excitement.

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his scowl deepening. “Like hell I care. Just don’t go acting like Deku’s some big deal.” He jabbed a thumb at himself. “If you’re gonna be impressed by someone, it should be me.”

You rolled your eyes, which caused bakugou to stand up and slightly tower over you. “Wow, that was so not insecure at all. Cry me a river bakugou.”

Bakugou stood up straighter, his glare now intense as he leaned over his desk, his hands planted firmly on the edge. “You think you can talk to me like that, huh?” His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge. “I’ll make you regret that, extra.”

“I can’t hear you, blasty.” You grinned up at him.

“Enough.” Aizawa shouted, making everyone halt in their position. “If you two want to fight, then do it. Take it to the training area.”

The class was silent, all eyes on you both as the tension crackled.

Bakugou’s lips curled into a sneer, his fists clenched tightly. “You think you can actually keep up, huh? Don’t cry when I wipe the floor with you.”

You stood your ground, unfazed by his words. "Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in the dust where you belong.”

Aizawa sighed, and shook his head. “These kids will be the death of me..”

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@graythecoffeebean

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A/N: I'm so excited for you all to see this development happen, please do let me know it the comments what you think will happen next!

Chapter One

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Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >

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The first thing you remember are Nezu’s words."You are special.” He had whispered it one night as he tucked you in, his small, warm paw brushing against your cheek. Nezu had always told you the story of how he found you—an infant left at the gates of U.A., wrapped in midnight-colored silk, staring up at him with eyes too knowing for a child."You came like a blessing I didn’t deserve."

He had raised you with unwavering care, but even as he doted on you, he never shielded you from the truth."But with being special comes great danger."His small claws had pushed your bangs back as he kissed your forehead. "Remember, little light, while you shine, you will inspire others."

You weren’t like the other children. You developed your quirk faster than anyone had expected. And where you walked, destruction followed. Small flames flickered across your palms, a deep, unnatural blue that earned the name hellfire. It didn’t just burn—it consumed.

And so, Nezu made sure you were trained by the best before you could even ride a bike. You grew up surrounded by Pro Heroes, raised on the battlefield before you ever stepped into a classroom. Endeavour took the lead in honing your flames—his brutal, relentless training pushing you past your limits. Even as a child, you could sense the weight he carried, the bitterness in his voice when he told you to do better, be stronger. The burns on your body were proof of his expectations.

But All Might was always there. He was different. Where Endeavor taught you to endure pain, All Might taught you to rise above it. His lessons weren’t just about strength, but about hope, about what it meant to be a hero. About what it meant to be good.

“Remember Young one, only you will decide if you either become good or destroy others”

You always liked All might, even now as you helped him more and more. As his powers took a toll on his body and sometimes couldn’t do the basic things, you were there like a shadow. Besides Nezu, he was like a father to you. And that’s why when he brought the news with Nezu it felt like a dad’s telling his daughter bad news.

“You will enrol in our school, starting tomorrow.” Nezu had stated, the small blue flame in your hand suddenly dying out fast as you slammed your hand on the table. “Why?! I know the rules of the hero society better than anyone!”

“You might know the rules and laws of the society, but you don’t know the society” All mights spoke gently. “In order to become a great hero, you should also connect with other heroes, which you haven’t done since you’ve been homeschooled for 18 years.” He stated in an all matter of fact tone. Nezu nodded his mouse head in agreement. “It will be good for you little light” He hit you with the childhood nickname. He grabbed your hand, his paw as soft as ever as you slumped into your seat. Gently squeezing it two times, a secret code you always had with him.

“You have so much potential, you’ll be in aizawa’s care and he’ll help you as much as what we can do. Trust me, it will be good for you little light..” You sighed, frustrated this was happening but nodded nevertheless. “Okay Nezu..”

“I’ll do it”

~

When the day came around that you had to sit in class, you were extra early. You knew every pro hero that teaches personally, so because you know them you had some small advantages.

Like sipping coffee in the teachers lounge for example.

“My Little babyyyyy” Midnight cooed, holding you close as you made sure you didn’t spill hot coffee onto her. “All grown up and here for me to teach!” You whined and laughed softly. “Nemuriiii let gooo, I’m going to spill all my coffee!”

“Oh please,” Midnight—Nemuri Kayama—dramatically gasped, holding you tighter as if you were a long-lost child. “You think a little coffee is going to stop me from getting my hugs?”

You laughed, half-heartedly trying to wiggle free, careful not to spill the steaming cup in your hand. “Yes, actually! And I swear if you make me drop this, I’m making you make me another one”

Nemuri pouted, finally loosening her grip with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t want my little woven one walking into her first day of class with coffee stains.” She gave you a teasing smirk, ruffling your hair.

You huffed, smoothing it back down. “You act like you didn’t see me every day growing up.”

“Yes, but this is different!” she declared, stepping back and twirling a strand of her hair. “You’re finally a student here. A future hero. And I get to watch you kick all those wannabes’ butts.”

The ‘wannabes’ butts’ midnight is talking about is none other than class 3-A itself. Nezu, being as kind as he is, let you read through the files of each student of the class. The one that stuck out to you the most were two people.

Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou.

All might explained that Midoriya, also known as deku, was his predecessor. As you had watched a few videos that had gone viral off the sport festival, you understood why.

But Bakugou, Bakugou was something else.

You had heard about his explosive power—literally—but reading about him in a file and watching him fight were two entirely different things. His combat style was raw, unrelenting, as if he had something to prove with every move. He didn’t just want to win—he wanted to dominate.

But what caught your attention wasn’t just his strength—it was his drive. Unlike Midoriya, who had a quirk passed down by the world’s greatest hero, Bakugou’s power was his own. Earned. Honed. Sharpened like a blade against his own willpower. He wasn’t fighting just to be a hero—he was fighting to be the best.

And now, you’d be standing beside him, competing against him, proving yourself in the same class as him.

The thought sent a flicker of anticipation down your spine. As you said your goodbye to midnight, you threw away your stuff and walked out the door, onto the 3-A classroom itself.

The hallway buzzed with muffled chatter, the distant echoes of students settling into their classes. But as you stepped into Class 3-A, the noise died instantly. Twenty pairs of eyes snapped to you, scanning, questioning. Some confused, some curious, some wary.

You didn’t wear the standard U.A. uniform—not yet. Your attire was sleek, black with faint silver embroidery, a mix of functionality and elegance. The weight of your presence alone unsettled the room.

Then, of course, he reacted first.

“The hell?” Bakugou’s chair scraped back violently as he stood, his hands already crackling with sparks. His crimson eyes locked onto you like a predator sizing up prey.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snarled, his palm popping with tiny explosions. “You walk in here like you own the place—gotta be real dumb or real strong.” You tilted your head, completely unfazed. “You always greet new people by trying to blow them up?”

“Only when they piss me off.” His palm flared brighter.“And you’re pissing me off.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. A few students tensed—Midoriya’s eyes darted between you and Bakugou, Uraraka looked like she wanted to step in but thought better of it. Even Todoroki’s gaze lingered on you, analyzing.

You smirked. This class might be fun after all.

Before anything could happen a long, grey cloth snapped out of nowhere, wrapping around Bakugou’s wrist, immediately neutralizing his quirk.

“Enough,” Aizawa’s voice came low and sharp as he stepped out of the shadows, hair floating slightly, eyes glowing red. “Bakugou, sit down before I erase you completely.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, ripping his arm free. “Tch. Whatever.” He shot one last glare at you before slumping back into his chair, arms crossed. Aizawa’s tired eyes flickered toward you. “And you—take a seat. Now.”

You met his gaze and, after a beat, nodded. No backtalk, no smart remarks. Just a slow, easy stride toward an empty desk. Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temple. “Great. First day, and we’re already starting like this.” He gave the class a pointed look. “Get used to it. She’s one of you now.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening. You leaned back in your chair, ignoring the questioning stares.

Let them wonder.

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taglist:

@graythecoffeebean

Heavens Prophecy (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader story)

Welcome to my newest fanfic series! I will be posting on both wattpad and here so feel free to choose which app you like most :DD

I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing this!

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She was never meant to exist.

Abandoned as a baby on U.A.’s doorstep, raised by Nezu, trained by Japan’s top heroes—her life has always been anything but normal. Too strong. Too fast. Too much. But no one questioned it. Not really.

Until now.

Something is changing. Her powers feel different, unstable—like something ancient is waking up inside her, something bigger than quirks, bigger than heroes, bigger than this world. Because with every secret she uncovers about her past, the more dangerous her future becomes. She isn’t just a threat—she’s the biggest target in the universe.

And through it all, standing right next to her, is a certain explosive blond she just can’t seem to escape… or make peace with.

Will she ever truly accept who she is—even if she hates the answer?

And when the time comes, when the weight of the universe rests in her hands, will she fight for the ones she loves… or embrace the destiny she was born for?

Stay tuned to find out ;)

Chapters

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Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

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Prologue

---------

Warning: 

The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.

That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.

English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3

main list Next chapter >

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“Your majesty, you honestly can’t tell me she would be safer on that-“ “On that what? Exactly?” The cloaked figure held the smallest bundle in his hands. It held its finger gently with its own, smallest round cheeks in the world smushed against the inside of its palm.

“You’re making a mistake, you ought to be making a mistake.” The other voice exclaimed, as they paraded through the streets of Musutafu. Nobody even batting an eye on the two strange looking fella’s. “Your Majest-“ “ENOUGH.”

Blue flames surrounded the two of them, anger flowing through its veins. “You will not stand here to your king and belittle him on his plan to KEEP HIS CHILD SAFE.” His anger quickly deflated as the little one began stirring and making noise.

It gently rocked it, slowly but surely the little one opened her eyes. Full black ones stared back to one of it owns. The creature looked at the protesting one. “As long as Heaven knows she’s alive, she will never be safe.

he gently put her down infant of their destination. “You will be okay, my woven one..daddy will always be watching over you..” He kissed her forehead gently, a long nail stroking her cheek

He rang the bell, his eyes never leaving her as he stood up straight. “You’ll be safer here..my daughter.” As she began to fuss, a small mouse person heard the cries as he went on his nightly stroll. Seeing the mouse approach, he hid in the shadows, his eyes still onto her little form, trying to capture this moment, for ever in his brain imprinted.

“Oh my!” The little mouse man exclaimed, jumping up at his feet as he quickly ran towards the babygirl wrapped in a bundle. “Goodness, what are you doing here my dear?” He picked her up, the streetlights shining gently onto her face. He could tell she had a scar, all across her forehead, as if her head gotten cut open.

Nezu adjusted the baby in his arms, gently bouncing her as he inspected the scar running across her forehead. His sharp mind was already working through the possibilities—who had left her, why she was here, and most importantly, what had happened to her.

The infant stared up at him, unblinking, her solid black eyes like endless voids. And yet, there was something there—awareness. A knowing that no child her age should possess. “Hm,” Nezu hummed, brushing a paw over the scar. “You’re quite the curious one, aren’t you?”

The baby let out a small noise, neither a cry nor a coo, just a sound—like the whisper of something ancient trying to form words. The mouse’s ears twitched. “Strange…” he muttered, before shaking his head and tucking her securely against his chest. “Well, no matter. You’re safe now.” Behind him, hidden in the darkness, the cloaked figure tightened its jaw. They should leave. They had to leave. But the way Nezu cradled her—carefully, protectively—made its body hesitate.

For a single moment, an unbearable instinct clawed at their chest. To take her back. To run.

But it couldn’t.

Knowing she was safe, they blew a soft kiss towards his child, as they opened a portal into the ground. “I love you..” It whispered again, as it was the last thing it had ever told her for a long time.

All they found important was that she was safe.