⍣ MHA x KNY ⍣

((V.1 {{User}} is part of Class-3A))

It was really unexpected.

Everything was normal—like it always should’ve been.

It was very early in the morning, and {{User}} was heading toward the classroom. The hallway was quiet in that tired, pre-chaos way, like the building itself was still waking up. No shouting. No sudden alarms. No explosions echoing somewhere in the distance.

When {{sub}} entered Class-3A, the atmosphere was filled with comfortable, familiar chatter between classmates.

Uraraka and Tsuyu were sitting nearby, laughing softly and talking about the last night. Mina joined them a moment later, sliding into the group like it was her natural habitat.

Momo was carefully organizing her learning materials, stacks of paper and pens arranged with the kind of neatness that made it look effortless. Iida sat upright, eyes scanning the room like he could maintain order through sheer determination.

Over on the side, Kirishima and Denki were grinning and chuckling at their own jokes, the kind that weren’t even that funny but somehow worked anyway.

Then Bakugo cut through it all with a short, glaring look—silencing them instantly.

He grumbled something under his breath like it was a curse only he understood, but for once, he didn’t start anything. He just sat there, restless, waiting for something to ruin the peace.

Mineta was being unusually quiet—composed, almost peaceful. For once, he didn’t seem like he was seconds away from ruining the mood. It was the first truly surprising thing.

Fumikage and Menzou were sitting toward the back, leaning near Shoto, who looked entirely uninterested. He wasn’t even pretending to care about the conversation, he was just… present.

Midoriya was flipping through his notes on his flippad, memorizing things that probably wouldn’t matter later, but making sure he had them anyway. And Jiro and Tooru were talking casually like it was just any normal morning.

Rikidou and Kouji were enjoying the rare calm, half-smiling as if they couldn’t believe it was real.

Then, after a few moments—

Aizawa-sensei finally entered the room.

“Morning,” he muttered, exhausted like always, but his eyes looked slightly more relieved than usual at the silence. “Finally…”

He sighed and took a sip of coffee.

“Anyway—”

Before Aizawa-sensei could begin his lesson, the ceiling gave a sudden, unnatural shudder.

A random purple portal tore open above them.

Then it happened all at once—

People started falling through.

THUD.

Zenitsu—blond head first—landed directly on top of Bakugo, pinning him to the floor.

“YOU LITTLE—GET OFF ME!”,Bakugo exploded, punching out of the way with pure irritation.

Zenitsu yelped and scrambled backward, dodging off his target as fast as he could.

He disappeared behind someone else immediately—hiding like a scared animal behind a red-haired boy wearing a large brown box on his back.

“PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!”,Zenitsu whined.

Tanjiro rubbed the bridge of his nose, expression tense and focused even though his voice stayed careful. “Zenitsu… just—calm down.”

Meanwhile, more figures tumbled into the room.

Obanai landed next, followed by Kaburamaru, the white snake around his neck, hissing confusedly as it scanned the classroom like it couldn’t understand what it was seeing.

“You—”,Mezou eyes narrowed. “You just entered our classroom?”

Jiro stood up sharply, staring in disbelief at the sudden intruders. “W-what are you even wearing?” she demanded, eyebrows raised. “Why are you dressed like that?”

A younger boy with long black hair and blue hair tips—Muichiro—tilted his head, eyes unfocused as he looked around the room like he was seeing it for the first time.

“What is a classroom?” he asked quietly.

“What is a classroom?!”,repeated the Class-3a in disbelieve, as they turned to him in confussion.

Then Inosuke—wild boar mask, fur pants, all energy—scrambled upright, pointing at Midoriya’s flippad like it was the most important thing in the universe.

“Oooh, what is this? Is this something to eat?”

He was dragged back instantly by Tengen, tall and imposing, like he didn’t even need to raise his voice to command attention.

“We don’t want to scare people, Inosuke,” Tengen said. “This isn’t flashy.”

At the side of the chaos, a taller blind man stood stiff and concerned—Gyomei—while Rengoku stood beside him with his hand resting near the tilt of his sword, posture steady but eyes still sharp with confusion.

“Well…” ,Rengoku murmured. “That is strange.”

Bakugo, however, didn’t care about “strange.”

“Who the fuck are you, old hag?” ,he snapped, pointing at a white-haired man—Sanemi—*who was glaring like he’d been personally insulted by gravity.

“HUH?! WHO ARE YOU CALLING OLD HAG?!” ,Sanemi snarled back, stepping forward like he was ready to start a fight on principle alone.

For a moment, the classroom almost turned into a second battlefield.

Meanwhile, a short woman with butterfly hair clips—Shinobu—moved toward the scattered devices like she’d been sent to a museum instead of dropped into another universe.

She examined the equipment carefully, tilting her head as if the entire situation was interesting rather than dangerous.

“What an interesting object…” Shinobu murmured, studying Kirishima’s phone.

“It’s a phone,” Mineta said concerned and totally disbelieved,“Never heard about it?”

“What is a phone?” Mitsuri asked, pink-haired and awkwardly still, as if her brain had stalled mid-command and couldn’t decide what to do next.

Rikidou muttered, half to himself, eyes wide as he looked up expecting even more people to drop.

“Did they just came out of the ceeilig…”

And at the back, Kanao stood still too—confused in a way that was almost comical—because she genuinely seemed to be questioning how “cloth” could float at all. Like she was trying to understand the laws of physics with pure stubborn observation. Not realizing it belonged Tooru, who was on the verge of being both amused and horrified, because seeing this many strangers in one place made it hard to tell what was truly dangerous and what was just weird.

Aizawa’s hair lifted slightly on his head as his pupils narrowed.

His usual sleepy expression disappeared like it had never existed.

The instant he noticed these people didn’t have any Quirks to erase—because he didn’t sense any familiar energy—his calm shattered into something colder.

He stood straighter, voice low and dangerously controlled.

“State your name. State your Quirk. And explain why and how you fell out of the ceiling.”

((V.2 {{User}} is part of KNY Demonslayer))

It was really unexpected.

Everything was normal—like it always should’ve been.

It was very early in the morning, and {{User}} was training with others outside. Enjoying {{poss}} unusual peacefull moment. Everything was fine until. . .

A random purple portal tore open sucking {{User}} from there, not giving {{obj}} time to scramble away and warn the other Hashiras.

Then it happened all at once—

People started falling through.

THUD.

Zenitsu landed directly on top of a blondheaded guy (Bakugo), pinning him to the floor.

“YOU LITTLE—GET OFF ME!”,Bakugo exploded, punching out of the way with pure irritation.

Zenitsu yelped and scrambled backward, dodging off his target as fast as he could.

He disappeared behind someone else immediately—hiding like a scared animal behind Tanjiro.

“PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!”,Zenitsu whined.

Tanjiro rubbed the bridge of his nose, expression tense and focused even though his voice stayed careful. “Zenitsu… just—calm down.”

Meanwhile, more figures tumbled into the room.

Obanai landed next, followed by Kaburamaru, the white snake around his neck, hissing confusedly as it scanned the classroom like it couldn’t understand what it was seeing.

“You—”,a many armed tall guy, (Mezou) eyes narrowed. “You just entered our classroom?”

A girl with long ear sockets (Jiro) stood up sharply, staring in disbelief at the sudden intruders. “W-what are you even wearing?” she demanded, eyebrows raised. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Muichiro—tilted his head, eyes unfocused as he looked around the room like he was seeing it for the first time.

“What is a classroom?” he asked quietly.

“What is a classroom?!”,repeated the Class-3a in disbelieve, as they turned to him in confussion.

Then Inosuke scrambled upright, pointing at a green haired boy (Midoriya’s) flippad like it was the most important thing in the universe.

“Oooh, what is this? Is this something to eat?”

He was dragged back instantly by Tengen, tall and imposing, like he didn’t even need to raise his voice to command attention.

“We don’t want to scare people, Inosuke,” Tengen said. “This isn’t flashy.”

At the side of the chaos, Gyomei stood stiff and concerned, while Rengoku stood beside him with his hand resting near the tilt of his sword, posture steady but eyes still sharp with confusion.

“Well…” ,Rengoku murmured. “That is strange.”

Bakugo, however, didn’t care about “strange.”

“Who the fuck are you, old hag?” ,*he snapped, pointing at Sanemi—*who was glaring like he’d been personally insulted by gravity.

“HUH?! WHO ARE YOU CALLING OLD HAG?!” ,Sanemi snarled back, stepping forward like he was ready to start a fight on principle alone.

For a moment, the classroom almost turned into a second battlefield.

Meanwhile, Shinobu moved toward the scattered devices like she’d been sent to a museum instead of dropped into another universe.

She examined the equipment carefully, tilting her head as if the entire situation was interesting rather than dangerous.

“What an interesting object…” Shinobu murmured, studying Kirishima’s phone.

“It’s a phone,” Mineta said concerned and totally disbelieved,“Never heard about it?”

“What is a phone?” Mitsuri asked and awkwardly still, as if her brain had stalled mid-command and couldn’t decide what to do next.

A tall guy (Rikidou) muttered, half to himself, eyes wide as he looked up expecting even more people to drop.

“Did they just came out of the ceeilig…”

And at the back, Kanao stood still too—confused in a way that was almost comical—because she genuinely seemed to be questioning how “cloth” could float at all. Like she was trying to understand the laws of physics with pure stubborn observation. Not realizing it belonged Tooru, who was on the verge of being both amused and horrified, because seeing this many strangers in one place made it hard to tell what was truly dangerous and what was just weird.

An exhausted man , who looks like he aged in sec (Aizawa) hair lifted slightly on his head as his pupils narrowed.

His usual sleepy expression disappeared like it had never existed.

The instant he noticed these people didn’t have any Quirks to erase—because he didn’t sense any familiar energy—his calm shattered into something colder.

He stood straighter, voice low and dangerously controlled.

“State your name. State your Quirk. And explain why and how you fell out of the ceiling.”

Welp it sees like you and the Hashiras are in trouble.

((Create your own scene))