#@sora-rozu

[thetrashywritingwitch]

Ngl shootout to @sora-rozu who always likes my posts just goes through every few days and says ❤❤❤❤❤❤ u a real one 😤

[lethargicsunlight]

🥀 Chapter 4 “Big... and Bulky!”

“It’s Beauty and the Beast, but You aren't the monster..” (Fem!Reader X Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 4 “Big... and Bulky!”

(Second time's the charm?)

I totally just decided to go back to my laptop to finalize this post...

Anyways! Please enjoy this plot heavy chapter! I've been falling on most of my fics lately, so I hope to make up for it~

Find the other chapters here: LINK

Aaaan join the Tag List here: LINK

WARNINGS: Lotta plot, SFW, sulking.

What the hell is that?!

Kirishima holds both arms out in front of him, hardened and sharp like blades. He eyes the monster ahead of him, watching in his peripheral as the people it had been attacking ran back to the other end of the alley and out unto the street.

Honestly, he hadn't expected anything to happen his first night doing this. Usually after a big event, things die down for a while due to the surplus in hero and police presence--but this was something else!

"Like I said, if you come easily.."

He notices the creature's eyes are closed, despite it's head being turned his direction. There's a strange, pitched whine that comes from it, and he can see blood oozing from about it's feet. There's an obvious wound on the arm opposite his position--but that shouldn't matter, he thinks, trying to draw himself out of any sympathy.

They would patch it up, once detained.

"I see you're wounded.." He un-hardens one arm and reaches for his cell. "Once the authorities get here, they'll--"

He flinches at it moves forward, extending an arm with another strange melancholic whine. He could swear there was a please, please don't, within the hollow noise of it.

He knows it’s a bad idea, but he hesitates. Then, the creature begins to shrink.

Going back to it's original form, he notes, feeling at least a little victorious. FatGum has always been one to instruct diplomacy over violence. Cautiously, he moves forward, still ready to take on the brunt of any attack this beast could dish out--

"It's you.."

Standing, shoulder clutched by a shaking hand and eyes still closed to him, is definitely you.

"…This looks bad, doesn't it?" You ask dryly, while glass shards tink against the pavement as they leave your arm, the flesh shrinking and spitting them out.

"I-I mean--what..?" He shakes his head, "What happened?"

You open your eyes then, sure that your quirk had fully stopped. Staring, you converse with yourself on what to say. Would he even believe you? With everything he already knew, you were pretty sure it didn't matter. Hell, the fact he'd conveniently been around for this event had red flags all over it.

"…Self defense." You say, reluctant to move toward him. "They followed me from the restaurant. Someone used an illusionary quirk and lead me to this alley way."

"Wait, they attacked you?" He asks, putting effort into relieving the 'you' in his sentence of any emphasis.

"…Yes."

Kirishima isn't sure if your hesitancy is because you were telling the truth, or lying. Bakugou's warning goes off in his mind, but the memory of it angers him. Gah, why can't things just be simple!

He blinks, and he's caught soaking in the moment for several seconds before he settles on doing the one thing he can do. "Alright… Well you're uh, you're pretty banged up. C'mon, you need to go to the hospital."

"You aren't taking me in?"

"Why would I?"

"…" Well, he had a point, all things considered. In fact, blurting the question was more suspicious than him indeed choosing not to turn you in.

Kirishima weighs the decisions of his movements, in the end doing away with his hardening quirk and approaching you outright. Less because he was afraid of your possible retaliation, and more because he could harden in an instance anyway--but he didn't want to appear threatening. Even with the situation being what it was, he wanted to take Tsu's advice to heart. "Like I said, hospital."

"That's honestly the last place I want to go right now." You admit, allowing him to come up on your wounded side.

"I'm not really good with sutures.." He mumbles while evaluating the damage.

He reaches out gingerly, taking the upper part of your arm and twisting for a slightly better look. You wince. "You might get away with some bandages. I don't know what your quirk does, but it seems to have an effect on the damage you take. These look a lot smaller now." He gives you a stern look--a look you hadn't previously thought him capable of making--and lifts his hand from your arm to point a finger. "But, you will need actual medical attention in the morning. Even if I have to escort you myself."

"Ugh, fine." You murmur, wincing.

With a satisfied noise, he moves to the other side and goes to put your arm over his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" He asks.

"Of course." You bite back, but immediately regret doing so afterwards. He remains unphased, following through with the action, and that makes the guilt worse somehow.

🥀

There were some looks from the hotel's night manager, but otherwise you two had been left alone.

By the time the door to your room was opened, you were ready to hit the floor. You had not used the offensive side of your quirk for years, and it had taken a toll on your body.

"Here we go," He says, voice soft despite your sharpened edges, leading you to take a seat on a barstool. It puts you up a little higher, and given his massive height, it's to help him clean up your injuries.

His massive height. Had you noticed before? Why was it so important all the sudden? He turns away to grab a white wash-cloth from the counter and drench it in the sink.

"There should be a first aid kit in here somewhere.." He mumbles, looking around the expanse of the hotel room as he shuts the water off. "Any idea where it is?"

You realize you'd been staring when he locks eyes with you.

"Er--I think it's on the wall in the bathroom."

"Got it."

He folds the cloth in his hand then goes for the bathroom door. As the light turns on, the fluorescent bulbs outline his broad shoulders and jagged hair--jagged hair that had begun to settle with time, and no longer stood straight up like it usually did when he wore his hero costume.

You force your gaze away.

Now you knew why you had accidently described the prince in your novel to look like him.

You also felt yourself growing nervous beneath the weight of his presence. When he finally returns to the bar with a little red and white box, you can feel your foot wanting to tap against the metal of your seat and sweat pooling on your upper lip.

"Okay, so.. I'm not going to lie to you." He starts off, voice all even and unaffected--if anything, he sounded as cheerful as he had the first time you met him. "I wasn't really the best at medical training, but I remember the basics."

You swallow, and he grabs the cloth while tracing your figure with his eyes--your wounds with his eyes--not your figure, idiot.

"Alright. Arm first? I'll just clean it with this to get the grime off, then alcohol after."

You nod, silently sucking in a breath of preparation.

"Cool."

His palm, also massive, presses against the clean part of your arm for leverage as he uses the other to wipe blood and grime from your skin. It's practically torturous for the first few seconds, being so close, but you adjust. And of course, he seems fine.

He probably does this a lot. You remind yourself, letting your eyes wander off of him. …And for all kinds of people.

"This might burn a bit." He warns, reaching for the cotton and alcohol. When he looks back at you, he flashes a charming smile. "You can hit me if you need to. Since my quirk is Hardening, I won't feel it."

"I have a high pain tolerance."

"If you say so."

Minutes of awkward silence extend into the night as he cleans and bandages your wounds. Your nervousness ebbs and soon all you can feel is tired and achy. By the time he'd finished, your eyes had grown droopy and your saltiness had dissipated.

Despite the odd connections and coincidences, his actions for now seemed sincere. Not to mention advantageous for you, seeing as he was acting as your personal nurse. It would only take an instant for you to use your quirk and know the truth, but.. Something stopped you.

For once, you didn't want to know.

Satisfied with his work, he dusts off his hands with a proud toothy grin. "All done. Pretty good, if I do say so myself." He removes himself from in front of you, circling back to the sink. "How ya feeling?"

"Tired, but fine." A second beats by before you add: "Thank you, by the way."

"No problem." He checks the clock on your wall, "I better head back and put this in a report. I'll get with you tomorrow, okay?"

He washes his hands and you watch him.

Why didn't you want him to leave?

You hated everyone.

You'd fought it before. Fought it like a caged lion, like the beast you had been in the alley--you beat on the bars and remind yourself: they aren't all bad, they aren't all bad. Yet, you'd always end up right back in your room, locked away, imagining better, kinder realities from the safety of your cozy castle walls.

Realities with real heroes, that weren't backed by ridiculous penchants and advertisement fortunes.

Yet, despite how the evidence pointed towards his eventual betrayal.. You wanted him to stay.

"It's…" Your mouth opens involuntarily. It's late, you want to say. Stay.

And it grieves you, the way he looks up from the sink expectantly with optimistic ruby eyes, and knowing you can't actually ask him to.

"It's getting cold at night." You deflect. "I noticed you weren't wearing a jacket.."

"Oh," He waves a hand after shutting off the water. "Puh, I can't feel it really. It's part of my endurance training for my quirk."

Then he takes on a look of surprise, giving you a bit of a suspicious side-glance.

"What?"

"…Nothing. You just, mentioned the weather. Actually, you warned me about the weather." He crosses his arms, thumb at his chin, a pedestal for his childish grin. "I think I'm growing on you a little."

"I was just being polite."

"Which, you pointedly weren't doing before."

"Considering what you've done for me tonight, this is a logical way to act."

"Fair. Fair." He resigns, dropping his arms. But he doesn't leave immediately.

"I'll check back in tomorrow, and.. If it's alright with you, I think we need to talk about this whole thing again. I'm not directly insinuating these bombings and attacks are revolving around you, but.." His hand goes to his neck and he looks off, "it's just a little weird, y'know?"

"I know." You respond flatly, "Isn't this police work though? Investigation, interrogations..?"

"I'd like to think I'm not doing that. I'm just.. Doing whatever it takes to make sure everyone's safe." He gives you an apathetic look, "To be honest, after the way Detective Gina spoke to you, I'm not sure you would get treated fairly. It's something I plan to talk to his superiors about, when this is over."

There's an argument you want to start then and there, but you're honestly too tired. Telling Detective Gina's supervisor would have as much effect as pouring water on a rock. It looks shiny for a moment, but it grows dull again after some time.

"…I don't mind." You say, bypassing his last statement for now. "I'll help as much as I can."

"Thank you." He says, and he does so with that toothy smile that feels too genuine to be real. "Alright, I'll.. See you tomorrow, L/n."

"See you." You mutter, lifting yourself from the bar as takes his leave.

For once, being alone didn't feel so nice.

🥀

"She turned into a what?"

"Some kind of animal. A really big one. Anyway, I'm just worried she's being targeted. Everything's just.. Lining up all weird."

"Hm.." Fat Gum's voice hums through Kirishima's speaker, and he almost regrets asking for advice. He should be able to handle this on his own.

"And you're sure she wasn't the one that perpetrated the attack?"

Kirishima hesitates with his answer.

He wasn't sure.

"I wasn't there when it started, but I think she's telling the truth."

"You have a big heart Kirishima, but don't let that blind you. You need more information. What did you say her name was again?"

"Oop, someone's asking for me, gotta go. I'll call you later!"

"Alright, be careful--"

-click-

Kirishima sighs, slumping into the small office chair. He hated to lie, especially to someone so important; but he knew that once that name was uttered, he'd get dragged through the coals again.

He hated this.

Most of the time, his heart aligned with his hero work. He'd met so many people, and rarely did he meet heroes or police workers that gave him any inkling that they might be doing something bad, or had previously done something bad.

But now, when he utters that name, everyone changes. They get guarded. Angry, even. Like Gina.

And, he should probably do as they say. He shouldn't trust you, shouldn't entertain the thoughts he has of you.

But his chest always hurts when he thinks about your defeated downward glances. The natural downcast nature of your expression--like you've given up. Your sour voice and sharp words, defensive before conversation even starts.

Except that one moment the night prior.

"It's.. Getting cold at night. I noticed you weren't wearing a jacket."

There's someone else in there, and he knows it. A kinder, happier version that's been smooshed out like one of Gina's damned cigarettes.

Hand pressed into his chin, he glares daggers at the wall ahead. Upon it, a makeshift map of the area this station was in charge of. There's a picture of you and a red pin placed at the corner of the ward where the bomb had gone off. Another pin in the alley where you'd been attacked, and some more of recent sightings brought into the station.

He knew Detective Gina had the same board in his office. He also knew, that he probably shouldn't have his own, nor be conducting anything akin to an investigation on this subject without Gina's direct knowledge.

…He also knows that if he's wrong, if everything goes south, it'll end badly. His reputation with the Commission, the Police Force, and probably even Fat Gum's Agency, would essentially go into the toilet. He was intentionally being indirect and underhanded--words that no one thought to be in Kirishima's vocabulary.

But he was also tired of being held back.

This wasn't like the time he and his classmates had gone to save Bakugou when they were kids, when they were young and weak and naïve. Now, he had the experience, the ability, and even the jurisdiction. It felt like everyone was trying to keep his nose in the dirt, like he just doesn't understand. Like he's not enough.

She's dangerous.

"Well, so am I." He says aloud, realizing the intensity of his grip that had slid up to his hairline. His fingers had become points, digging into the skin above his temple.

"Red Riot?"

Someone pokes their head in through the door to his makeshift office, a clip board in their hand.

"Yeah?"

"Pro Hero Dynamight is here to see you."

🥀

"It's a new gang."

A stack of papers is slapped unto Kirishima's much-too-small desk, pressed into it by Bakugou's thick green and orange gloves. On top, a picture held to the rest by a paperclip.

It shows a picture taken in motion, where grey and black streaks the page. It appears to have been done with a night-vision lens, grainy, but the central focus was still crystal clear. Someone turned away, running from a package on the ground, with a strange symbol painted unto their jacket.

"Another one?" Kirishima asks, standing at the desk's opposite end. "It's like they keep popping up all over the place.."

"This one's different." Bakugou growls, "Most gangs are just a bunch of idiots with quirks that they think gives them an advantage. These have been organized. And there's a'fuckin lot of em too."

"You mean.."

"Yeah. It's getting worse."

There's a tense silence that follows, where Kirishima picks up the papers and Bakugou takes a step back to cross his arms and lean into the nearest wall. Flipping through the pages, Kirishima reads time stamps and reports regarding the same symbol being seen in equipment heists and bank break-ins. Small crimes in comparison to some, given the nature of their world, but even he could make sense of the pattern.

"Someone's stocking up." He says, gaze returning to his friend.

"There's a few bust-ins that include regular grocery stores. They cleaned out the cash registers, but they took cleaning chemicals with them too. That explains the explosives." Bakugou moves around the desk, pointing at locations across Kirishima's map. "Somehow, they're hitting areas at opportune moments and slipping past pro-heroes with ease."

"Do you think they could have a group with specialized stealth quirks?"

"Well, that's just the thing. Every time we've actually come in contact, we haven't seen their quirks. They don't use 'em."

The statement makes Kirishima's brows furrow. "You've made contact?"

"A few times." Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, and Kirishima can tell the subject really bothered him. "We keep losing track of them. It's not a coincidence, I know that. They're hiding themselves from us so we can't get an I.D., and they have to be getting away with some kind of.. Teleportation quirk or something."

Another thoughtful silence. Finally, Kirishima asks the question that had been eating at him from the start.

"…Have you spoken to Midoriya about this?"

Bakugou sighs. A pent up, frustrated breath that he lets out between his fingers as he grips his own jaw. "…I can't."

"What? Why?"

They were rivals for the Number One hero spot, but they weren't stupid. They worked together when they had too, and usually they were damn near invincible. Thanks to Midoriya's unmatched team of sidekicks, he took on most of the worst crime investigations across Japan--just like All Might had when he'd started his organization with Night Eye.

"I… I have a hunch." Bakugou's voice lowers an octave, "Someone knows where the patrols are. At all times. Unless someone is doing something off the grid, I'm pretty sure everyone's patrols are logged and kept somewhere."

"So.. Do you think someone from Midoriya's group is leaking the information?"

"Maybe. They don't have direct access, but the Hero Commission would bend over backwards for him. If his name is dropped, the officials will give them anything. But.. That's not the big reason." He takes a deeper breath. "Right now, he's so far up the Commission's ass that if I say anything against them, he gets real defensive. To the point I'm.. I'm not sure I can trust him not to mention it to them."

"The Commission." Kirishima says aloud, but he's lost in deep thought.

He's thinking about you.

You who had been a young woman trying to become a secret service investigator for the Hero Commission. You, who had tried to out someone in the elite, then ended up being pulled into a court case, ruled over, then kicked out unto the streets with the worst reputation in history.

What if you were right?

The Hero Commission doesn't claim to be innocent, but it does claim to have the best of intentions for helping the people, and in that there is no room for corruption.

Yet, that is exactly what Bakugou is proposing.

"Wait.." Instinctually, the blonde points at him. "You better not be.. You're not thinking about that woman are you?"

"So what if I am?" Kirishima turns on him, more poised than usual. "What if she's right? We know for a fact there were rats in Tartarus. I know All for One is gone now, but if someone really wants change.."

"Then they would start there." Bakugou finishes for him, and he finally acquiesces to the idea. "Have you gotten anywhere with that?"

"…Well," Kirishima looks off, "Now that you mention it.. I haven't been able to get any details no. But she was attacked."

"What? Directly?"

"Yeah. Last night."

🥀

You peer angrily at your reflection.

You were absolutely, positively, NOT looking forward to the Pro Hero Red Riot coming back to your hotel room for some kind of 'talk' that you essentially likened to an interrogation.

You were NOT.

"So what if he's.. Tall. And, bulky. Bulky! Too bulky--he's far, far too big. Of a person." You say, lip curled at yourself. "He's.. Loud. Too smiley, for sure."

The list of half-hearted so-called-unattractive properties dies in your throat. Unfortunately, that hatred turns inward, and instead you pick yourself apart.

"It's just.. Hormones." You try to reason. "I've been alone a good while, that's all."

And what were you going to do about it?

Sulk.

In the main room of the hotel, dressed in nice clothes and wearing more make-up than usual. Holding a pillow in your lap, and looking around at the furniture like it's going to help you vanquish your internal despair.

But, alas, time only drips by.

Unable to eat from the nerves (that are totally not good nerves!) you waste away there on the couch, eventually encouraging yourself to write a few chapters.

It's around noon when there's a knock at your door.

You hop up, thrusting the laptop aside, checking your appearance in the wide mirror set on the wall by the door. Despite everything you want to think, your heart is pounding.

I wonder what he'll look like.. You ponder, as another rap is made at the door. You're standing in front of it; nervous.

You breathe, deep, then pull the latch.

"Hey!"

The first thing you notice, of course, is that big sharp-toothed smile.

The next thing you notice--is that he's not alone.

"What's up?"

You deadpan.

"Uh.. Hey?" You respond, giving Kirishima a look.

"This is Pro Hero Dynamight. He's just here to help." He nods back towards him, but the blonde didn't need an introduction. You were well aware of Japan's symbol of Victory.

Along with his terrible attitude and unmatched combat prowess.

Help. Right. You think sarcastically, and it takes an immense effort to control the scathing look you want to give them both. Instead you turn on your heel, going back inside.

"Come in I guess." You quip, arms crossing over your chest.

At least I'll be going to hell looking my best, you think, back turned to them. Why else would he bring someone as strong as Dynamight? This is it. Either I'm being taken in alive, or he's here to kill me.

You peek over your shoulder as they awkwardly shuffle inside. Their Hero costumes combined with their athletic physiques really made them.. Too big for the room.

"Well?" You ask, voice sharp. "You wanted to talk?"

"Actually.. We were thinking. Lunch first?" Kirishima asks, voice a little quiet like he could sense you were ornery.

"What?" You turn back to them, brows pinched.

"You've been up here since last night right?" Bakugou pitches in, "I heard hotel food is shit."

"Right--and, you've been through a lot. It's the least we can do."

You stare, openly gawking at them. Lunch?!

You motion a hand at them, "With the two of you, dressed like that? We'll be swarmed."

Bakugou lifts a duffelbag you hadn't noticed before. "We're prepared for that. You got a bathroom?"

What is happening--"Yeah. Down the hall.."

"Thanks." And he disappears first, with the door closing behind him.

Now alone, Kirishima seems to shrink a little.

"Lunch?" You ask him, shaking your head.

"Well, you know--" He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Bakugou's been a big help on this case, so I wanted him here, but I also thought that might make you uncomfortable if we, ya know, cornered you up here and all. At least out there you know we won't hurt you." He rambles.

Some tension in you releases.

So they really aren't here to kill you. That's nice at least.

[melody-ofstars]

𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖜𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉, 𝕭𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔 𝕶𝖆𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖎 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝕻𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝕬𝖀

A princess, fleeing away from her family in hopes of finding the freedom and free will for making her own decisions rather than getting them made for her. Leaving the life of luxury behind, deciding to run away from the castle, she encounters a journey that she never thought she would.

A pirate, living out in the ocean, known nothing but freedom and the desire to seek out the biggest treasure there ever was. Putting his focus on finding the treasure and keeping his ship and crewmates safe, he remarks a journey, harder than any he has ever remarked.

But that is not all, the sea is full of sharks and those sharks are thirsty for blood, just waiting for their prey to make a move.

What will happen when their paths will cross? Will she find her freedom? Will he find his treasure?

To be added to the taglist, comment here and I will add you asap.

I am very proud of how this fic is turning out and how it will turn out in the later chapters, I have a lot of planned for this one.

This fanfic's Prologue and Chapter 1 will be released on 6th November 2021 on the platforms: Wattpad and Tumblr.

The updates will take place on Saturdays if I have the chapter ready on time, hopefully, I will.

For more information, send me an ask!

List of content:-

Prologue || 6th November 2021

Chapter- 1 || 7th November 2021

Chapter- 2 || 14th November 2021

Chapter- 3 || 21st November 2021

Chapter- 4 || 28th November 2021

Chapter- 5 || 5th December 2021

Chapter- 6 || 12th December 2021

Chapter- 7 || 19th December 2021

Chapter- 8 || 24th January 2022

Chapter- 9 ||

Chapter- 10 ||

Taglist:- @bro-send-dudes @bananasquash @queen-in-the-shadows @underratedmage @shujiisbaby @lovinkiri @cloudsgathering @b4byuwu @uchikai-alini @naiomiwinchester @commanderawkward @sora-rozu @hawksismybabydaddy @no1202 @unicornisblabla @little-kity @the2ndl @angie-1306 @misakik28 @sleepy-demon-baby @ouch-thats-harsh @sad0ni0n

[rozu-minaki]

Chief stays still for a moment then allows keigo to pet him, he’s a big fluffy boi, bongo prancing over cuz he wants some attention too. “Ive gotta get a hold of Sora to tell her where we are. And hopefully stop her from burning anything else-“ Rozu grabs her phone and goes to call Soras bros phone.

@seggsy-birb-man

@sorano-thelittlebirdgirl-mha

@crow-with-a-knife

[izu-ku-anon]

he nods along, almost like he was taking notes in his mind “well ill try and bring them stuff i think fits..i think i have an uraraka themed guitar..will that work? its for kids.”

Waking up in the hospital with a massive migraine, foggy memory, and feeling like garbage, Hisui would look around and try and figure out how she got here. Looking around at the blurry world around her she would try and use her quirk to find her phone with no luck. Letting out a sigh she would lay back on the bed and look at the blurry world she was in.

izuku would be asleep in the small area of the hospital room next to her, drooling and snoring loudly. He was groggy and weak when he awoke and carried her out to the ambulance when they first got out. Both were on house arrest since they would most likely try to run out to help if they werent.

[crow-with-a-knife]

Nope. You dropped in on one of my RPs before.

-🌲

I’ve crashed a lot of rps so that does not narrow this down a whole lot. I doubt you��re Dabi anon. Or sora. Probably not ser. Rozu perhaps?

[lethargicsunlight]

“It’s Beauty and the Beast, but You aren't the monster..” (Fem!Reader X Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 3 “The Beast”

Had to put up a chap on Valentines Day for the big red man himself, right?

Summery: Eijiro Kirishima, Pro-Hero Red Riot, has taken to a new patrol area that recently encountered a rash of random crimes. Villain unknown, he makes it his personal responsibility to ensure this new sector of Esuha City feels safe as the police force conducts their investigation while aided by FatGum’s Agency. After a bomb goes off in one of the Apartment buildings close to the station, he decides to help with the victim’s interview in the hopes of boosting their morale…

Instead, he meets you–who is far from ready to receive any such kind tidings. Burdened with curiosity and his steadfast beliefs, the Sturdy Hero feels swept into your world and finds himself sympathizing with the possibility that–

You might not be the monster everyone says you are.

WARNINGS: SFW, bodily injury, mental trauma, angst, BLOOD

The prince rallied his forces in the West, and prepared for their battle in the Steppes. The carrier eagles spread across the continent, seeking all who were friend to their king that were willing to take up arms against the enemy.

It pained the prince, knowing he would endanger his people once again--but to that end, he would stand with them on the battlefield and face such danger head on like his soldiers.

His red hair--

You flinch in your typing.

Red hair?

You shake your head--surely you had written him with black hair?

Despite having been in the process of writing this rough draft for almost a year, you dash back through a hoard of document files to find the character references.

Sure enough, black hair.

Anger boils in your chest, and you slide the laptop away from you on the hotel's (single) counter top. Not even your secret world could be free from the toils of the real one; you had found that blasted red-headed man almost every time your eyes had shut. Now, it was happening while your eyes were open.

The glimmer of hope you had felt at the cross walk should have been smothered, but somehow it came back every morning. It reminded you of a time when you had wanted to talk to people--when you had wanted people to talk to you.

He just wants information. You remind yourself, picking up your stiff bones to find the hotel's tiny-ass refrigerator. All that stuff he said was just manipulation. And I don't want to talk to anyone. And I don't want anyone to talk to me.

After another go of trying to convince yourself, you switch your focus to something else.

Your apartment's reconstruction was due to be completed within five days. Due to the structure being sound enough (and the fact the construction in bustling cities like Musutafu were required to work rather quickly due to subsequent villain and hero battles) the revival of your home was fast approaching. Thank god.

Unfortunately, being an author didn't allow for fancy insurance perks. You had already received a check for the damage to your items, but it was far less than the accrued worth of your home furnishings. Once again, you would be forced to pay and save and pay and so on--until it was back the way it was. Or at least similar.

The hotel's mini-fridge mostly contained leftovers. Which, that had been your intention but.. Looking at all of it...

It just felt ew.

Dinner out it is then.

🥀

There's something to be said about the food service industry in Japan, perhaps even Esuha City specifically.

If you want your food quickly without a chat and to be left alone at your table, you could find it.

You had ruminated on the idea of leaving before, to put as much distance between you and the Hero Commission as possible. A cottage in the United Kingdom, or a cabin in America; maybe Maine or Michigan.

But.. This was home. Your apartment, the rainy season, the red and golden leaves, the corner-store ice-cream, the sticky summer sweets in the next town over--The Hero Commission may have taken the hope out of you, but damn them if they think they can have your mochi too.

"Oh my gosh..!"

Suddenly the café on your right comes alive. There's a couple, one now standing next to their chair and their partner on one knee--a ring clutched in shaking hands. The crowd 'ooh's and 'awww's.

"Will you marry me?"

"Of course!"

And they hug, and the café erupts into applause. And you stare, from the sidewalk, somewhere between melancholic and exasperated. You really didn't need this today.

"Now ain't that a beautiful sight." A voice says, too close to your right side. You flinch and glance--he's wearing a thick jacket and a fur-lined beanie. His features are so unremarkable, you don't even mentally take stock of them.

"...Uh huh." You drone, than try to speed off so you can pass the café. No offense to the newly engaged couple, but you were trying far too hard to keep up your solitary lifestyle to deal with reminders like that.

🥀

Ugh, finally!

Relief at last, as you waltz into one of your favorite restaurants. There are booths at the front, but closer to the kitchen there are one-person nooks. A tablet, attached to the wall, takes your order and starts up a bill. A drink arrives via a window in said nook only minutes later, and your feet sway in delight.

Or was it... complacency?

NO. You inwardly chastise, taking a loud sip no one could pester you for. This is how it aught to be. This is great. No one to taunt me, no one to treat me terribly or make me feel ugly. I can eat as fast and as sloppy as I want. No one's controlling me, no one's--

It's by chance, pure chance, that you look over your shoulder when you hear the door open and the jingle of their entrance alarm. A movement in your peripheral that catches your attention, draws a quick glance, that usually you didn't bother with. Who cares who just walked in?

Unless it's the same person that tried to talk to you earlier, in his fur-lined beanie. Well, except, now as you pay a little more attention--it's not a fur-lined beanie. It's a fur-lined face. A mutation quirk.

Is it coincidence? Paranoia gnaws into your bones, and you know the truth. Coincidence or not, one way or another, he followed you here.

The jingle comes again, and you watch four more people cross the thresh-hold and join the aforementioned...wolf man? They're all dressed warm, but you're pretty sure the thick jackets and low hats don't just hide their features out of convenience.

Your food arrives through the window in front of you, and you mentally groan. Not only were you being followed by probable villains looking for an easy score, but you wouldn't be able to eat your meal. Or get a refund.

You take one last forlorn draw of breath, taking in the steam and aroma of your would-have-been meal, before reaching to the tablet and paying for it. There's actually a little bit of guilt in your heart, knowing they'll be cleaning an untouched dish from your table. Sorry. I'm so sorry. It's really good, I'm just.. You know, about to get mugged. Gotta call the police. Maybe I'll get take out from here later.

Silently you rise from your seat and walk out. If all went well, you'd just go to another place. If it was a mugging, as you suspected, there was a convenience store near the hotel that you could stop in after writing--another--police report. Wow! Two for two this year.

And, heading further into the well lit streets of Musutafu's most populated ward, all seems well. They didn't follow you out, nor have you seen them over your shoulder for the last three cross walks. Great. Left my meal for nothing.

Maybe you needed to go to a therapist after all. Maybe, you could use a fake name or--was anonymous clients a thing?

You'd accused Red Riot of working with the commission to torture you, and now you had accused warmly dressed people for wanting to just, mug you? You didn't even look like you had money. Sure, it could be more nefarious than that, but with heroes everywhere in the city? What happened to your sense of truth?

They took it away. You reply within, causing your foot steps to slow and your shoulders to hang.

Maybe you had been wrong, but it was better to be careful, right?

You reach for you phone with the intention to check the time. There were still a few places open late but--

Where's my phone?!

Frantically you search for it a second time. Then a third. Had you left it at home? Dropped it? Left it at the restaurant? You turn on a heel and start heading back. The new lap top had already been quite damaging to your funds, you couldn't afford a new phone; muggers be damned.

🥀

"What are you doing out here?"

"Huh?" Kirishima looks up to see one of the sidekicks from FatGum's agency. "Oh! Hey," He says, but stops. He can't quite remember this guy's name. There were so many nowadays, scouted for and hired in an attempt to help counter the swell in recent villain activity.

"Hey," The un-named sidekick offers a polite smile. "Kinda late isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. Most of my patrols are during the day but, it was brought to my attention that a lot of the packages were probably delivered at night. Just thought it was a good idea."

"So you're on, like, extra patrol? Without your hero costume?"

"Yeah," Kirishma, not Red Riot, scratches the back of his neck in some form of embarrassment. This guy liked asking questions. "Just trying it out, not looking conspicuous or anything."

"Oh. Okay." Sidekick-guy looks around a moment, extending their conversation into something kind of awkward before opening his mouth again. "Well, I'm heading home, so. Good luck!"

"Er, yeah, thanks. You too..?"

And they're gone.

Weird. Kirishima shakes it off, then continues his stroll. Guess he's just tired though. I should probably go back to the Agency and pick up the roster, it's rude not to know people's names when you work with them...

He comes to a corner and stops, looking up at the hotel--your hotel--for the fifth time that night. Not that he was obsessed or anything, it was just.. On the route. His call with Tsu had been enlightening--though, he wanted to disagree with her on some things; especially the 'giver her time' part. He wanted to fix his mistakes now.

His heart aches when he remembers the first night at their dorms in U.A., so long ago, when he'd unintentionally upset Tsu when he and the others went forward with their plan to save Bakugou. Though it was successful, he was ashamed that he never thought about how Tsu would feel when they directly ignored her advice.

Gah, and it still hurt to think about it!

And thus, he chooses to follow her advice to the letter this go round, and continues on his path to the next street over.

🥀

You know what it sounds like: when someone is following you.

And you, poor you, had made a very bad decision. What had you said earlier---'muggers be damned'?

Yeah, that wasn't serving you too well right now.

The streets' population had thinned on your return trip to the restaurant. Somehow, everything looked darker and more desolate--to the point you wondered if you had perhaps made a literal wrong turn--

Before your eyes you watch a street sign change. The letters, in white, wiggle and shift until it makes a new word--a street you swore you passed several blocks back.

Someone was manipulating your environment. Or, your brain's interpretation of it.

No phone, no real weapon aside from a hotel key card and a dense wallet, (note that you did in fact own a very nice self-defense kit in your apartment but uh--it blew up recently) and the defensive side of your quirk--which was fucking unpredictable at best.

Hence why pro-hero work wasn't really an option.

You stop then, but there's a distinctive sound of shoes shuffling on concrete nearby. This clearly felt like being hunted down, and honestly if not for the peril it was causing you--this would make for some good writing material. You know, if you live through it.

"Okay, I know what's going on." You say, hands up. "Look, I don't know what you want, but I don't have a whole lot. I can give you my credit card if you want it, but I'm just warning you--not a lot on there."

A few seconds of silence pass by at your confrontation. Oh, what, am I being mugged by ghosts? But, the agitation grows despite your mental humor.

Their response comes in the form of visually appearing ahead of you, wiggling and writhing at first like the letters on the sign. After they had solidified, they approaching like predators; low to the ground with hungry eyes beneath heavy warm attire.

Your stance widens.

I don't think they're here for my wallet...

Suddenly, more of them begin to pop and shift into existence--much closer to you than the first few. The way reality seems to flex around them was really unnerving; but it gave you a better idea of what was going on. Whosever quirk was influencing you had a range, and that was good to know. Additionally, though, the original five you remember from the restaurant had at some point turned into about ten, which meant some of them might be illusionary.

And your quirk doesn't work on illusions.

"Okay.. Okay, I see, money's not your thing.." You take a step back, eyes darting between all of the assailants. "You guys know if I scream, a pro-hero--"

"Go ahead~" Someone says, but obviously not one of the entities in front of you. It's a feminine sultry voice with something else, something animalistic. Snake-like. "No one's going to hear you, dear. Not while my eyess are on you."

Shit, shit shit shit--you take another step back, pulling out that hotel room key. Better than nothing. You had some decent self-defense training, they won't take you down without a fight even if your quirk doesn't activate.

"Finally got you talking.." You grumble, holding the (damn near pathetic) hotel key up like a knife. "What are you stalking me for? What do you want?"

"Let me guesss, you're expecting ssome kind of reveal?" The voice, hidden beyond your probably-fake environment, answers. "Ssorry ssweetheart, thiss is just bussinesss."

You threw as many 's's in there as you could, didn't you? You ask inwardly, but your lips remain tightly shut. Angering your opponent probably wasn't a good idea--if what she said was true, it sounded like an arrangement. A mercenary oriented one.

You know. Murder.

"Oh," You utter, grieving a little for not having a witty comeback.

Luckily, or unluckily, your awkward conversation comes to an end by way of a classic knuckle punch, thrown in your direction by one of the more burly looking assailants. You manage a dodge, twisting and moving back enough to see claws as their hands reposition from a fist.

Mutant quirk, animalistic in nature--probably enhanced strength, speed, durability. If I can think fast enough--

A blow hits, right in the side at your lower back. You pivot forward, conveniently back into the arms of your first attacker. There, he lands another blow to your upper chest that leaves you gasping, but your conscious enough to move your body out and away. Well sort of--the rest were encircling you. Surely not all of them were real, but you had no way of telling them apart.

Had you really been out of the game so long, you couldn't hold your own anymore?

Of course.. going to the gym and practicing fighting moves hadn't really been on your agenda since leaving the court rooms.

You cough, righting yourself as they stare at you with smiles and gleaming eyes--like dogs, pouncing on small animals for fun.

"Nice scar," One says, leaning in. "Pity, you really did have.. a kinda pretty face."

You glower at him over your hotel key.

"Almost felt bad leaving the package.."

"Who wants me dead?" You ask, looking--well winded, but more confident than they probably wanted you to look.

"Why does it matter? You're dying today, girly. Who cares?" Another responds, similar in tone. Related, you note--for once you find him amongst the crowd, he is also similar in stature.

"Dying wish then." You retort, with a little shrug.

There's an uneasy, tense, exchange of stares then. A sixth sense, you realize, as they see through your façade and attempt to validate it with their comrades. Like you had something up your sleeve.

And, indeed, you did.

"Save it for your next life," is their answer, followed by another thrown fist aimed at your cheek bones. Veins and tendons bulge as the wallop is tensed, then thrust forward, and it gives you only a few seconds to use your quirk--

But it's enough.

🥀

Eijiro, still walking his rounds around the sector, still dropping glances at your hotel as he walks past, now stands in front of a vintage console store. He heaves a great sigh while watching pixelated characters hop, kick, and dance across the display screens--characters he knew well. One day, they would be selling his old video games, labelled as 'vintage classics'.

The thought depressed him. But hey, time has to move somehow.

...Despite his positive outlook, his mind wanders back to Bakugou--and more importantly, that look he'd given him. The once-in-a-blue-moon glimpse into his friend's actual feelings.

Maybe he was just making things up--maybe he just wanted Bakugou to regret not hanging out, or being a human being for once and establishing relationships with people outside of work--but he was almost sure it had been real.

"Heh.. I can hear it now." He mutters, catching his reflection in the glass that separated him from the television screens. He puffs out his chest, and digs in his eyebrows. "We're heroes, Kirishima. We have to make sacrifices. You can't be the best if you're worried about dumb shit like--" He stutters for a second, almost losing character. "Like--relationships and parties and..."

He falters, the impression sliding from his shoulders and causing them to slump.

"And living." He says with a finality. A final nail in the coffin, as he watches a character get taken out on  the screen followed by big "K.O." written in orange font.

Kirishima had learned long ago that he didn't want to be the best. He denied it at every turn, at every query someone threw at him--even if it was himself in the mirror. You wanna be the best don't you? Work harder!

And, well, he did work hard. Just, not as hard as Bakugou.

Despite the green monster of jealously that might swell in his gut while watching his friend's name rise on the leaderboard, there  were always days like these that humbled him. And plenty of others, when he was actually protecting a civilian or stopping a truck from crushing a bunch of school kids; it was in the doing. It didn't matter where his name was on the leader board.

In fact, there's a deep sympathy that he feels for Bakugou in that moment.

"I wish I could reach out to you man." He says, before going back to his walk. This time, he would be heading back to the agency. "I hope--"

He stops, shoe skidding over sidewalk as a scream splits the air.

🥀

Using your quirk had a tendency to make you feel blind when you otherwise weren't using it.

It's refreshing, despite how much it.. sucks.

Living several minutes, sometimes hours, within seconds of the moving world--between spaces and moments and memories and matter--it's indescribably big.

And it is, perhaps, because of that feeling; that you change.

You remember the doctor when you were young, who tried to explain it to you in words you understood. But, you technically never remembered the words--all you could see was a younger version of them, stealing from a convenience store. Over and over and over again.

In some way, under high stress, your quirk would shift. Usually it was directed as an emitter type; but based on whom you were gazing upon, Judgement would make a decision--and in the face of danger, morph into a transformation quirk. Supposedly, the malevolence of your opponent directly affected the size and duration of this shape-change. This was only negated in a safe environment.

Fortunately for you, these guys were seasoned mercenaries, and murder was pretty high up there on the malevolence scale. So you were big. Just as big, you might say, as the hatred that festered at the sound of their dying victims screams, gurgles, and gasps.

When you come back from the visions, you're thrashing. You're wholly unaware of your features, but your claws digging into the earth below hint at something truly gruesome.

Better than a damn hotel key!

"What the hell--"

"Mizuchi, you didn't say anything about this shit!"

"Ugh, that'ss what you get for taking your time!"

They come at you anyway, brandishing weapons this time in the form of pipes and broken bottles; whatever the street could provide. The first thwack of a pipe to your enlarged form has your back twisting, and you find horns adorning your crown as they knock the assailant backwards.

Nice.

Following him would be another, but you grasp the ability to fight like an animal pretty quickly. There was a maw for biting as well--but despite knowing their horrid truths, there's always something that keeps you pulled back. Some lurking old version of yourself that still wanted to tame the beast.

Yet, even with that sentiment, accidents happen.

One of them screams, as one of your horns protrudes through a shoulder; painting the sidewalk in red. It causes the inner you to lurch, but your physical form only growls in response. By trying to shake him off, you throw him instead. Oops.

You try to step away, but your backed into a corner. One that technically shouldn't exist, but it takes a second before the illusion ripples and fades out to reveal you had instead been fighting in an alley way.

Maybe that will stop them. Maybe, they'll take the hint and move on to someone else--

You would have hoped, if not for the shards of glass that slice through the flesh of your shoulder. Inwardly you might of screamed, but you outwardly roared--clutching at the wound with one arm while lashing out with the other. You nail a good hit, claws bared, and they scream too.

"What the--hey!"

A familiar voice..?

You try to look in their direction, but another bottle cuts into your left temple. You whirl back on them, but the troupe was already leaving. There's an animalistic urge to run after them, and you even step forward--but with your foot (paw?) landing on even more glass, you halt in place. Instead, your frustration leaves your lungs in a loud roar.

Finding your breath, you hear the sound of scraping metal from behind.

"Listen man, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.."

Red Riot? Again?

You go to turn and look at him, but you stop midway. No, I can't. I can't look at him.

"Just come quietly, and we won't have to make this a bigger mess than it already is.."

Oh, shit--he's talking to me.

[rozu-minaki]

[Hisui]: Hey! Wanna join me in finding gifts for the more important guys in our lives?

Hisui was wondering if Rozu would want to join her. She had an idea of what she wanted to get her other half. But being able to get away from her kids was also a bonus and just having a day to herself and possibly with a friend.

Rozu had just finished up helping sora with a little home project and cleaned up, looking at her phone she smiled "Sure! Hawks is off so he can take care of sora, where too?" she responds and goes to get into some comfy and baggy street clothes

[izu-ku-anon]

Today is THE Day! Sora had planned on how to surprise Deku so Good! She had situated herself up on the roof, flush with the snow for max camouflage. She would wait quietly for him to return home, then swoop down for a Sneak Hug!

Izu was busy patrolling the city, keeping a close eye and waving to a few fans and fellow heros he saw. He was all bundled up in his new winter suit actually made by soras mama rozu :3

[rozu-minaki]

Sitting in the living area of the house, Hisui would be resting well watching Hikari pay with a few toys. It was a calm day and she was thinking about how to shift the house to accommodate another person for a few days. Her line of thought would be broken when her youngest daughter would crawl up to her and gently pull on her hair to get her mother's attention. Chuckling she would pick her daughter up and hold her as she noticed Rozu near by. "Enjoying the trip?" She asked as she would rest her head against the wall.

Rozu was making a bottle for her newborn which was sitting beside Hikari babbling to herself, once she came over and heard hisui she smiled "Yea, sora loves it here. Thanks for inviting us, I dunno how I can repay ya."

[rozu-minaki]

“Rozuuuuu. Soras mad at me.” -lies face down on the bed-

@seggsy-birb-man

"Hmmm? What happened birdie?" she says softly, the kids already asleep and rozu ready for bed. She goes over and sits beside him, brushing through his feathers

[rozu-minaki]

“Hey… Mom? I have this idea in mind for Sora, and I’m wondering if you’d like to hear me out on it.”

Ever since Kaito heard his little sister speak about having a mom and a dad again, a potential solution came to mind almost instantly.

Rozu was busy baking some Christmas cookies when she heard someone speak, recognizing the voice she turned around and smiled, dusting some flower onto the apron resting on her baby bump and going over. “What is it Hun?“ she said with a calm tone

[rozu-minaki]

Sora comes up behind Rozu, lightly tugging on Bunny Mom's sleeve. "Mama? Are you busy? I got something for you."

Rozu is cooking some little heart shaped jelly tarts! Taking them carefully out of the oven and setting them down to cool when she felt a light tug. "Hmm? What is it my little birdie?" she smiled and looked down at her

[rozu-minaki]

“Aww hello! I’m rozu minaki. It’s nice to meet you aswell! And thanks we are pretty happy together. I’m always glad to meet another member of the flock that sora has made^^”

Quirkless AU Touya

[rozu-minaki]

Sora is off playing with her crayons by herself. Everyone has been busy since the baby got her, so Sora's feeling a little pushed to the side, but that can't be helped. Babies are small and weak like the pigeons. Sora can still do things to let Papa Bird and Bunny Mom know she is here. Like now, she is making a picture for Rozu. :3

Bunny mom is in the kitchen making something for the baby along with some lunch for sora. She hadnt intended to leave little birb behind, so she was gonna try and make it up to her. How? Well she was able to knits sora small little plushies! one of dabi keigo and rozu! She wrapped them up in a little box and went over to her, setting down her lunch along with the box "Hey honey! What are ya drawin?" she asks with a smile, Nyx babbling away in her play pen close by

[rozu-minaki]

Rozu is dressed up as Emily from corpse bride! She made her costume herself and is ready to hand out candy and take Sora trick or treating!

”Happy Halloween everyone!” She smiles