miziiiiiiiiiii
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The Advantage Of a Powerful Mind by ichengxhun
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
08 Jan 2021
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In a society rich in heroes and wacky quirks, values and principles are being lost. Izuku Midoriya is aware of this, the problem is that no one else seems to notice it. Or they just don't care.
Which is not right, because Izuku is tired of being disappointed with those people he used to admire so much. And no one seems to understand. Nobody. Neither his mother, his supposed best friend, his classmates, nor his teachers.
Izuku's tired. And if no one wants to understand, then he will make them understand, until none of them are able to ignore the truth.
[Or that fanfic in which Izuku understands that being a hero isn't just fighting villains in front of the cameras].
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"This isn't how it was supposed to go. They had been rash and so excited to share something personal with Kabru that Laios had lost track of him in the middle of it. Did Kabru hate him now? Was this breach of personal boundaries too much? He sees those blue eyes starring into nothing, looking so deep in a thought in a place Laios can't reach, and then-
Anger.
A swirl of ocean blue and a golden shine from the sun; working together to send a beam of fear and fury right into his very soul. Laios wants to never have to see that face again. The way Kabru's nose scrunched up in disdain and his eyebrows furrowed. Edges creasing between his eyes. Kabru looks so unlike himself when he does that. Laios hates the fact that he ended up being the reason for Kabru's wrath, but what exactly did the royal advisor hear in that music that upset him so?"
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Kabru Of Utaya and what it means to be a part of a culture. To see it misinterpreted and abused, as well as one's inability to do anything about it. How can Kabru possibly handle the complexity of an identity, when his name has been spread so thin you can barely see where it began and where it ended?
Or, or: Kabru VS Cultural Appropriation.
Bookmarked by miziiiiiiiiiii
18 Jun 2025
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The record plays a melody, with familiar instruments and familiar notes yet something is off. The beat- the beat is a four-by-four that keeps a steady rhythm, but that's not how it goes. He remembers the music the people from his hometown would play and the unique style that found a certain level of fame. The music is meant to be danced to, it's meant to tell a story with high and low stakes and climaxes. The music would reflect that, not in a four-by-four beat, but a more complex one, odd numbers, 7/8, 5/4, the unnatural end of each bar was to give more stress on the final notes. He vaguely hears Milsiril's voice in his head saying words like marcato, forte, and staccato. This music that he's listening to right now- doesn't have that!
It sounds like Utayan music sure. It has the drums, it has the tambourines, it has the fiddles, and yet- Is that a tuba he hears? That's not right, they didn't have tubas during the festivals. Who could even afford that-
It's all so wrong. Like an itch not getting scratched. Sometimes he would dream of those familiar melodies. He would dream of a woman in a long skirt, dancing with all her might to the sound of the tambourines, and she would dance with someone else and together they would tell this story without words, and everyone around the bonfire would still know it. The music would amp up and down in speed, and it would go from minor and major chords and it would all lead up to a big finale and the woman would be lifted high in the air as if flying. Kabru would sit in the back and watch mesmerized as she landed on her feet, and he would be the first one to stand up and clap every time.
But this record is wrong, it's all so wrong. It holds no story, it holds no meaning, it's just aesthetics, a caricature.
He feels sick.
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it's late (but not too late) by glockmonkey
Fandoms: ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon
06 May 2024
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“That’s not… like, an undine, is it?” Kabru asks hesitantly.
Laios, who is pulling out bowls from the cabinets, swivels around. “Oh!” he exclaims, following his gaze. “That’s just Ralph.”
This does not assuage Kabru’s fears in the slightest. “And Ralph is..?”
Laios blinks. Then, his eyes widen, and he almost drops the dishes in his hands. “Oh my god,” he says. “No, no, no, I’m so sorry, I would never - Ralph is what I called my sourdough starter.”
“Oh,” breathes Kabru, slightly pacified. The kettle starts to whistle, and Laios scrambles to take it off the heat. “So it’s not… alive?”
“Well, it is,” says Laios, pouring the water into a couple of mugs. “I mean, no! I mean -” He puts the kettle down. “It’s yeast. You keep it in a jar, and you, like, feed it.”
“Huh,” mutters Kabru, and slumps heavily on the counter. He feels more like listening than talking, so he says, “Tell me about it.”
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Laios and Kabru make a pizza. Kabru thinks too much.
Bookmarked by miziiiiiiiiiii
16 Jun 2025
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"Obrigada", diz Kabru novamente. "Esqueci como é bom trabalhar com pão."
"Estranhamente terapêutico, né?", Laios ri baixinho. Ele tira a panela de molho de tomate do fogão e olha por cima do ombro. "Você já fez isso antes?"
"É", diz Kabru, e engole em seco. "Eu costumava... eu costumava fazer naan com a minha mãe, lá em Utaya. Quer dizer, eu não fazia, mas ela fazia bolinhas de massa para mim. E aí eu as amassava e esticava." Ele ri de si mesmo, baixinho. "Quase me esqueci disso."
Como ele pôde esquecer disso?
"E então ela fritava, e nós comíamos no jantar." As mãos da mãe, mostrando-lhe como espalhar a massa. Ensinando-o a cozinhar. A comer. A viver.
Não pressione com muita força. Segure com as duas mãos. Vá devagar, com delicadeza.
É isso que ela diria se o visse agora?
Dedos em concha no rosto, naan fresquinho pressionado nas palmas abertas. Olha só. Você fez algo lindo.
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Vazio. Tédio. Insatisfação. Isso era tudo que ele sentia, e só precisava de uma distração... O que ele não esperava, no entanto, é que essa distração viria na forma de um lindo mexicano que estava prestes a endireitar sua vida torta para sempre.
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“Zoro—”
“Did you know?” he repeats, desperate, and Luffy just looks at him. And he wonders, then, how much of this has been preordained—how much of this is real, how much of this is him. How much of what he’s felt since they were wedged side-to-side in a shitty wooden boat on the East Blue has actually mattered, and how much has been the universe pressing him down into the mold of someone else's heart.
And then Luffy is gripping his horns, bringing his forehead down to meet his, repeating, “Zoro? Zoro?” like his name is a mantra, like he’s gone somewhere far away and gotten lost on his way back.
And Zoro blinks at him, then, and sees both of them at once—both of them—and he grips Luffy’s face in his own hands (claws) and presses his lips (violent, full of teeth) against his. Because this is who he has been waiting a thousand years for, the brightest and most beautiful of them all, the one thing he could never have—could never see, not if (Luffy, Joyboy, Nika) had made different (worse) choices—the thing that could never thrive in the darkness, just like he could never (has been unable to for centuries) survive without it—
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Bookmarked by miziiiiiiiiiii
25 Apr 2023
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“Zoro—”
“Did you know?” he repeats, desperate, and Luffy just looks at him. And he wonders, then, how much of this has been preordained—how much of this is real, how much of this is him. How much of what he’s felt since they were wedged side-to-side in a shitty wooden boat on the East Blue has actually mattered, and how much has been the universe pressing him down into some kind of ceramic mold.
And then Luffy is gripping his horns, bringing his forehead down to meet his, repeating, “Zoro? Zoro?” like his name is a mantra, like he’s gone somewhere far away and gotten lost on his way back.
And Zoro blinks at him, then, and sees both of them at once—both of them—and he grips Luffy’s face in his own hands (claws) and presses his lips (violent, full of teeth) against his. Because this is who he has been waiting a thousand years for, the brightest and most beautiful of them all, the one thing he could never have—could never see, not if (Luffy, Joyboy, Nika) had made different (worse) choices—the thing that could never thrive in the darkness, just like he could never (has been unable to for centuries) survive without it—