mentioned this briefly in Aizawa’s profile,
but BnHA is just chock full of father figures. There’s a big emphasis
on mentors and fatherhood, more so than in a lot of other manga and
anime I follow. Now, the idea of the ’sensei’ is fairly classic, the old
master who teaches the young hero their secret technique and all that. But the
young heroes in BnHA, with their high stakes environment, do have a lot
is especially true for Midoriya.
I’m not the only one who thinks it’s super interesting that we have
not seen Midoriya’s biological father? Like… he wasn’t even on the
couch watching the Sports Festival.
his mother appears to be a house wife in a fairly nice apartment, I
think it’s safe to assume that he at least exists. Maybe he’s a
salaryman with a lot of overtime, more likely he’s working overseas.
Whatever the case, he’s very much an absent dad. Now,
absentee parents aren’t that much of a deal in anime. The ‘16-year old
living alone in Tokyo’ is a bit of a trope, after all, but here, with the emphasis on several characters parents, it feels like
a statement. This is the manga in which we know the entire family
set-up of Tsuyu, and the names and appearance of Jirou’s parents. Much
as I love Jirou, she’s a side character. For the main character
to have a blank space like that, is a Thing. It means that growing
up, Izuku had one parental figure, and that parental figure was his
And give the woman credit: she did amazing. It is not easy to raise a child practically by yourself. Certainly not a child that is considered an outcast by society. The amount of love Midoriya receives from his mother is heart-warming,
their relationship is one of the better ones portrayed in shounen and as a result, Midoriya is a kid with an incredible amount of mental fortitude,
capable of handling some pretty devastating circumstances. His mother has been a supporting pillar in his early childhood, which, remember, was pretty rough on account of all the bullying. As such she has shaped a lot of his personality. She’s equipped him with confidence, with an unshakable belief in himself. However, she is very much not a hero.
love is one of katsudon and hugs and kind words and worried tears.
She wants him safe, above all else. She’s never going to teach him
hand-to-hand and going by her advice alone will not make him into the
hero he desperately wants to be. Him quite literally leaving the
warm nest she made for him to learn how to fight evil people is a big
part of him growing up.
that’s why Izuku puts so much of his hopes and dreams on All Might.
Here’s his ultimate hero taking an interest in little old him.
It’s a fairy tale. A manga trope. And I really believe that he sees
an alternate father figure in All Might once he gets closer to him.
They have their wax on, wax off moment on the beach, with All Might encouraging him to get stronger. This is the trope. The sensei, mister Miyagi thing where the kid gets prepped to receive the ultimate technique (in the form of a lock of… hair, whatever). But unlike traditional masters, and unlike his biological
father, All Might sticks around. He is a presence in his life. He
cares for Midoriya and his continued success in a way that, at this
point, no other male figure does.
Might gives Midoriya a whole bunch of very important advice, but it’s
good to note that this isn’t a rough or distant sort of male
mentorship. All Might quite literally opens himself up to
Midoriya. He shows him his weaker side. The skeletal side. The broken side. Because All Might, let’s not forget, is a friggin mess.
mean, I know he’s going through a lot, but this man is Such a Dork. It’s definitely endearing and it is also one of his best traits as a character. However: as a
person, he’s really not very well equipped to be raising a teenager.
He lacks, in a way, the stability and level-headedness that comes
with the position of a teacher. He cares too much. About
everything. All the time. And he nurtures that side of Midoriya, when Midoriya already has plenty of that.
can’t help but admire Midoriya’s selflessness. Can’t help but praise
the very foundation upon which his own heroics are based: helping people. When he saves Todoroki. When he saves Bakugou, All Might is
there to tell Midoriya that what he did is all right.
And this is certainly important for Midoriya to hear, but at this point it’s also not the only thing he needs to hear.
Midoriya also gets a more traditional teacher figure. It’s
interesting to note that, despite being the younger of the two, and
despite the fact that he sometimes teaches from an honest to god sleeping
bag, Aizawa is a much more stable mentor and general Adulting Adult.
He still cares about his students, but he’s also much more likely
to Act as a Teacher.
Because Aizawa immediately picks up on
Izuku’s self-mutilation. He watched the entrance exam, he knows
that Izuku’s quirk is, at this point, extremely flawed. That Izuku
doesn’t have control over it. He explains it in a pretty
standoffish way, and certainly this early in the show it comes across
as cruel, but he’s not wrong. Izuku is breaking
bones every single time he uses his quirk at this point in time. If
he does anything with his quirk, he’ll be a casualty. Him using only a single
finger is framed as a feat of intelligence, but it is also INSANE.
'Oh you only broke one finger, you have nine attacks left’. That
is NOT a good plan. Don’t do that. For fuck’s sake. I hope we all
realize that what Midoriya is doing is Not Healthy. He is eating
away at himself, destroying his own body over and over again.
Aizawa tells Midoriya to get a grip on his powers he’s not just being an
ass. He’s being a responsible adult, a teacher that cares about the
general well-being of the students assigned to him.
this might already be a thing but i am very invested in the idea that taako and kravitz have skeletal cats that can do the same thing with their skin that kravitz does and when they’re uncomfortable or feeling threatened they turn back into their skeletal form
they always curl up in taako’s lap and let him pet them and they constantly push his ingredients off the table while he’s cooking and lup is their favorite even though they’re taako and kravitz’s pets
Skeletal form Lup hovering behind Taako as he cooks and giving helpful suggestions in her spooky lich voice, while Taako bats her away with a wooden spoon and says things like, “don’t tell me how to make chili sauce, you don’t have tastebuds anymore, you can’t even conceive of the spices we’re working with on this planet” and “I swear Lup if you get weird red death energy in this rice I will end you.” Finally he asks her to debone the chicken, just to get her out of his hair. She should be good with bones, right?
She drops a chicken gizzard down the back of his shirt just for that.
I feel like I’ve committed a grave sin and I don’t even know why. I think it’s because I am still processing the idea of Toshinori looking normal and not, well, either super-buff or emaciated. (Spoiler-ish for chapter 93? I mean, his appearance as a middle-schooler is kind-of revealed so…)
I wanted to try drawing in an old style that I once used and instead this ended up looking like a young-adult not-All Might Toshinori in my usual artstyle what the hell
Did some spring cleaning and found my old anatomy assignments! For the assignments pictured, I had to draw a figure from life, then bust out the tracing paper, and draw & label all the skeletal forms that we’d learned thus far overtop the figure in perspective and proportion. When we got to muscles, it was that plus another layer of tracing paper with the muscle group of the week. Matched only by le Fig for the most phenomenal 8am class I have ever attended.
(special bonus) my favorite comment that I have received on any project, ever:
It had been two whole days since Ivar awoke to find himself in the care of a crazy man named Jonah. He had been here on this beach for a total of five. This man…this crazy man…talking about soulmates and fixing his legs. No…Ivar would not be so gullible. Yet a part of him still wondered, was it all true? Were the words Jonah spoke real? Was there truly a possibility that Jonah could fix his legs…and that he would finally walk?
Ivar sat on the beach looking out at the water that brought him here. His eyes then traveled down to his arm and the words written on his skin. Her name is (Y/N). And she has been waiting for you as long as you have been for her. She has been waiting for him…for him?! Part of him couldn’t help but continue to feel as this as some sick joke. But then…the other part of him felt the pull of the markings. She was here on this land…waiting for him. Finally Ivar made up his mind as he heard the sound of Jonah’s boots crunching in the sand. “Have you thought about it?” He asked in his heavily accented voice. The older man leaned onto his right leg as the other sat at ease. His arm resting at his hip. “What do you wish to do Ivar?”
a/n: @midnigtartist drew my headcanon, I’ma write hers Summary: Where does Death go, when he, inevitably, needs a break from the living world. Where does he go…to ease eons of suffering. Warning: Existential crisis and some themes of insecurities w/c:~2.2k
He didn’t sleep.
However, that didn’t stop Kravitz from looking. It was hard
not to look. He saw the sun beamed against Taako’s tranced figure. He hovered
cross legged off the ground as his mind wandered into the indiscernible planes
of his mind. He wondered where Taako’s mind went, where did Elven minds go to
find reprieve? Had Taako been another sort of Elf, the kind Kravitz had known a
few times. These silent, fluid beings of impossible beauty and grace, not to
say Taako wasn’t impossibly beautiful or graceful. Taako was another
He was the closest to human without being human. A gray
alignment but somehow vibrant in personality. Witty yet spoke in a slow, dazed like
drawl that stuck on words as if preparing his speech as he came to him.
He was beautiful. Even like this, in his real skin. Tired,
worn, the world on the shoulders of this small, selfish yet entirely selfless
wizard. Kravitz didn’t need to sleep, so he observed.
Usually he kept his eyes closed out of courtesy. Taako’s ego
didn’t need to catch Kravitz’s gawking. Kravitz sadly couldn’t help himself,
not to day. His eyes skimmed the slightly illuminated outline, the beams of
light bounced off the soft freckles that broke the surface across his olive
toned skin. They were like dotted stars, constellations waiting to be traced,
explored, and marveled at. His blond hair, unnaturally unkempt, out of braid
hanging long and low touching the floor with its ends, Kravitz was glad he was
relatively timeless. He didn’t think his life before had enough years to spend
with Taako. He didn’t have enough time whatever life he had before. He was
anything taakitz tbh,,,, but more specifically,,,, krav being awkward af
It’s difficult to tell behind the blank white of her mask, but Kravitz thinks that his goddess might be amused.
He’s been in service to her for centuries, and doesn’t think he’s heard her so much as chuckle in all that time. She’s not laughing now, but there’s just something about the tilt of her head as she surveys him, the richness of her voice when she speaks. He’d probably blush, if he had a circulatory system.
“It has been some time since a mortal has swayed you from fulfilling a bounty, Kravitz.”
He’s not infallible. Even gods can be swayed, and he is far from divine. It has been some time though, because the last time hadn’t worked out that well. Trust had been a mistake, then.
It feels like it should probably be a mistake now, except here he is. Relaying his decision to grant clemency to Taako Taaco and his friends, and trying real hard to avoid any bowl metaphors.
“Well,” he hedges. “Submitting an entire town to the - and I’m sure we can agree on this - difficulties of the astral plane when they themselves had not engaged in necromancy, or had any intentions of doing so, seemed - excessive to requirements. Plus, we could probably use the PR.”
Not that he’d ever seen the Raven Queen being particularly concerned about what the world at large thought about her. She had a duty, and she saw that it was done.
“And the others,” she says, because there is no escaping her judgement. It’s a part of what makes working for her so satisfying, in the end. Everyone ultimately meets the same fate. “Those who were not trapped in Refuge?”
Kravitz squirms. He doesn’t feel as though he has ulterior motives. It’s more like he’s waiting at this strange intersection of business and (pleasure) personal, when they have seemed to be one and the same for so long.
Finally, he sighs. “All right, in the interests of full disclosure - there may be some personal interest on my part in the elf known as Taako. But there’s more to the situation than that. Really. None of them seem to recall having died before, much less attempting to circumvent the laws of life and death to avoid a trip to the astral plane. And I haven’t been able to find any evidence to the contrary, other than the bounty on their heads. Truthfully, I would be…uncomfortable bringing them in without further information.”
Edge cases, he thinks, and remembers delicate hands stubbornly curving a vase into a bowl. He closes his eyes. Somehow, his life seems a lot more complicated these days.
“Do not fear, Kravitz.” A pale hand reaches out, cups his jawbone. It’s rare that he bothers with flesh, in her presence. “I do not question your judgement. I simply wished to know if you yourself were aware of the reasons behind your decisions.”
“All too aware,” he grumbles. Love this, Taako had smirked. Kravitz hadn’t even had a stomach to lurch at the time, and yet here he is, still with the remnants of butterflies. “If I may take my leave then, my lady?”
“Go.” There’s no indication of a change in mood from her. She is as ever-present as her domain. “But consider that it is often the exceptions which have given rise to the need for our rules. The reason the masses choose not to break them is because we keep those exceptions in line.”
And yet, the air seems colder. Whatever comfort he might have taken from her touch is gone, and Kravitz makes his exit a little more hastily than is his usual wont. A warning from the goddess of Death, not a threat, but most mortals find little difference between the two.
Without really thinking about it, he raises his scythe, carving a door between the planes. It’s the work of a moment to step through, quick enough that he’s only halfway through pulling on his skin when he steps out into the material plane.
Specifically, into Taako’s room in the material plane. There’s a definite yelp, although the elf does his best to work it into a whistle once he comes to the conclusion that he’s not being attacked. Kravitz doesn’t bother to hide a grin.
“Okay,” Taako says, like Kravitz has made some kind of offer and he’s thinking it over. “Okay, into it. Your whole uh, situation. But seriously, can we put a bell on you or something? Some of us are facing near-death experiences on a pretty regular basis. A little ‘hey this hole in reality isn’t going to try fuck you up’ warning would be mucho appreciated.”
“Everything about me is a near-death experience,” Kravitz points out dryly, pulling on the rest of his skin. Taako’s made no bones (ugh) about his appreciation for his skeletal form, but Kravitz doesn’t miss the appreciative way his eyes scrape over this one. “I can make a few spooky noises before stepping through, if you like.”
The elf looks like he’s about to reply, when he catches the way Kravitz is returning his appreciative look. He tilts his head instead, toying with the ends of sleep-rumpled hair. From memory, Kravitz is pretty sure that elves only need to meditate to rest, but Taako definitely seems like the sort to sleep anyway. It’s a good look on him, all half-lidded eyes and soft features, wrapped in a pair of indecently short pyjama shorts and an old shirt big enough to slip off one shoulder.
Kravitz doesn’t need to breathe, but the act somehow seems difficult as Taako steps into his personal space. He lays a hand on his arm, abruptly serious. And there’s something arresting about that, the way he makes sure to meet his eyes, the beauty of his features carved into solemn relief.
“Hey,” Taako says. “I think that I might have given you a bit of the wrong impression, and I want to apologise for that. I know I can come off as like, a pretty unserious kind of dude, but you and me? Totes serious. So I want to let you know that I’m definitely not against you fucking me up in all those good ways in the future. I’m just a not third base before the third date kind of guy, capiche?”
Kravitz chokes, and the stone of Taako’s expression cracks and gives away to peals of laughter. The elf swoops up and drops a kiss on Kravitz’s cheek before swanning towards the door.
“Oh and uh, whatever floats your boat on the spooky noise front, my man, just don’t give me heart failure next time.”
“You’d deserve it,” Kravitz grumbles, stepping after him without thought. It just seems natural, reading the silent invitation in the way Taako pauses in the door frame, stands with one hand on a cocked him and waiting. “My life has become immeasurably more complicated since you stepped into it, I hope you know.”
It is often the exceptions which have given rise to the need for our rules.
“Homie, I will make it up to you. Come on, it’s midnight snack time and Taako’s making pancakes.”
We keep those exceptions in line.
For the first time in his long years of service, Kravitz finds himself hoping that the Raven Queen is wrong.
We all know that everyone wants the scarce familiars, right? For a certain dragon, or collecting purposes, or even just the money. What if the same thing was true for dragons? Imagine a penniless vagabond that keeps their skycat on a leash so it never leaves their sight. Morally corrupt dragons offer to “hunt down” certain familiars, for a fee. A black market for stolen sprites. Royalty with golden bantam fangars hire special guards just to protect them from thieves. A young dragon with a bone fiend has tied a wolf pelt over its skeletal form so it doesn’t stand out. Imagine the possibilities.
i wanted to make some grand amazing fanart to express my feelings for the finale but it’s late and i’m tired and i saw a post by @trustlup and had to draw it and then i went to bed rip
so this is kravitz and lup and barry hanging out in their skeletal forms and sipping champagne despite not being able to taste it. maybe they just caught a necromancer and decided to celebrate?? i can’t believe they’re coworkers now
I am only able to watch whilst others play. The heat of the summer sun makes us all weary. Hot, parched and sweating; it would seem a trip to the nearest body of water is always in mind once the summer swelter hits.
Coastlines, riversides and lakesides swarm with human bodies, sometimes ponds are used when in dire need, but most stray from the stagnant water. Man-made pools are good too, but there always seems to be an allure of nature.
I share this love even if I’m not free to interact with those making themselves at home along the stream and lake it leads to. I must be content to watch and listen as they splash and frolic, as they ride their boats and throws their balls, as they scream and laugh with delight.