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jesswritesthat · 6 months ago

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Kirishima Eijirō: Oblivious

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [Masterlist]

Summary: ~1k, fluff

• Kirishima is certain you’re just friends, but those closest to him have noticed something he may not have.

Warnings: None

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Kirishima was a friendly guy, he seemed to endear people with his presence, and his personality caused them to gravitate toward him. This was the person who’d lured Bakugō Katsuki into a true friendship after all, he wasn’t to be underestimated.

It appeared he’d unexpectedly won you over too, not that you minded considering he treated you like royalty as he did nearly everyone he deemed close companions.

Though everyone else could tell you were different to him. That you meant more. Except the only one who didn’t notice this phenomenon was Kirishima himself.

Yet it was etched into the way he’d seek you out, how he’d naturally migrate closer to you, and how he’d hope for your laugh first when he’d heard a joke.

Then there were the regularities where you’d expect his timely companionship at points during your friendship and this was one of them.

“Hey (Y/n), you got a minute?” He’d knocked on your door, but had obtained the habit of walking in anyway like he belonged there.

“What’s up Eijirō?”

“Can I borrow you to dye my hair again please? Roots are coming through.” A shark tooth grin was flashed your way, one hand running through his near crimson strands for added emphasis.

This had become a common ritual, you’d be so gentle with washing and dyeing his hair that he couldn’t help but melt into your delicate touch with the softest compliments spilling from his lips. Afterward, you’d eat dinner together (usually he would make it as a thank you) and watch a film in one of your respective dorm rooms. It was a friendly tradition that you’d started to look forward to.

Of course you hadn’t realised until it was disclosed to you but, he never did ask any of the others to assist with this. Sero and Mina had even made a point to personally offer only to be politely rejected - the pair of them sharing a knowing smirk when he’d slung an arm around your shoulders immediately after, asking if you’d do it.

Like the good friends they were, this obvious behaviour left them no choice but to outrightly question Kirishima about it. Except, they didn’t receive the answers they’d thought so clear before their planned ambush.

“Nah we’re just friends, you’re messing with me right?”

Kirishimas’ carefree laughter stumped them into silence, surely the guy had taken notice of his own feelings at the very least. He must’ve realised that how he acted around you was different to anyone else - y’know, since he’s blatantly attracted to you. At least that’s what they collectively thought.

“Friends? Kirishima, do you want us to repeat the question man?” Denki leaned forward incredulously from his place on the sofa, beside him, Sero and Mina also grew bewildered.

“I heard you fine, but I don’t see what you mean. I treat (Y/n) the same way I treat everyone else.”

"So you'd hug Bakugō too?" The pinkette proposed pointedly, hands outstretched like she’d caught him out.

"Sure, and I've tried but he has a habit of rejecting them."

Mina huffed, he'd got her there, no matter how close they were none could deny Bakugōs’ evident repulsion to physical contact, meaning Kirishima unfortunately won that dispute.

"Okay then, why don’t you let us dye your hair?” Denki chimed in this time, watching as Eijirō nonchalantly replied to yet another question whilst organising the dorm fridge like this meant nothing.

“(Y/n) knows what they’re doing since I’ve asked so many times before, I mean I have no issue if you wanna learn…”

“Lucky having someone comb their hands through your hair, ugh but fair point.” The electric user whined hopelessly, Kirishima offering an awkward smile in response.

“You’d do anything for (L/n) wouldn’t you?” Sero suspiciously posed this time, wearing a scheming expression, now his turn in trying to seek their desired outcome.

“Yeah, within reason.”

“Heheh, gotcha!” Sero smugly claimed, proud grin upon his features that soon came tumbling down when his friend elaborated thoughtfully.

“I’d do the same for you guys, you’re my friends. Why do you think I hold Minas’ bags during her shopping sprees?”

Now the trio were forced into a heavy, depressing withdrawal, their armoury of justifiable evidence now painfully refuted with little debate - Denki deciding to openly voice their surrender.

“Alright you win dude, either you’re totally oblivious or we’re overthinking everyday.”

They simultaneously slumped in total defeat, the redhead giving them a curious look prior to heading back to his dorm room.

“Okay… well I’ll be in my room. If you need anything else let me know.”

A cluster of exasperated groans haunted his exit.

Only it wasn’t over yet, before he could even reach his destination, he was interrupted again by a source you wouldn’t expect to get involved in such ‘trivial crap’.

"Oi shitty hair."

"Huh? Hey Bakugō." It was incredibly unexpected, an arm slung around his neck with a forcible clap to his back that left even Kirishima uneasy.

"How'd that feel?" It was abruptly blunt, Katsuki usually is, but it held a hint of knowing within his tone like he was trying to tell him something in his own disgruntled way.

"You just hugged— what's up with you?"

"Answer the damn question moron!" Katsuki shot back, Kirishima barely managing a flustered and awkward reply.

"Uh... weird. But I feel fine."

"Exactly." It was curt and aggressive, the blonde shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking off toward his dorm leaving Eijirō in utter confusion. Just enough to spark a particular thought process.

He'd hug his friends. But it didn't feel as comforting. He'd laugh with them too. But he always wanted to see your smile. He’d gladly help others. But he always felt like a hero when he got to help you.

“Oh crap.”

“Hey Eijirō, you okay?” Your warm voice instantly had an effect, one he was now acutely aware of, that left him fumbling for words.

“(Y—) I uh— no! See ya!”

It seemed Bakugō had enlightened Kirishima like he’d originally intended after overhearing his friends’ stupid conversation (where they’d all failed by the way) but it left you with a whole new dilemma to deal with.

Why was Eijirou avoiding you all of a sudden?

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

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winxanity-ii · 8 months ago

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RESONANCE

ship: various!bnha x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 5.5k a/n: just wanted to spit out a lil one-shot, not sure if I'll make a full fic from this but who knows lolol; tell me what y'all think…

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

All your life, people gravitated to you.

It was something that felt almost like gravity—a pull that made others orbit around you, with secrets and vulnerabilities spilling out like some cracked, overflowing dam.

They couldn't help it, and it wasn't something you actively tried to do either.

Your Quirk, Confidant, was a force of its own, turning you into an unwitting confessional booth for whoever happened to cross your path. Whether you were ready for it or not, they opened up.

There had been days when you tried to keep it off, to put up the wall and protect yourself from the sheer emotional weight that others dumped at your feet. But it took too much effort, too much focus to constantly repel that need in others.

If someone came to you, tearing up over a breakup or raging about the stress of everyday life, you'd let them; it was just easier to let it run its course.

And, sure, there weren't any physical drawback—no energy drained or migraines induced. But to you, there was a burden no one else seemed to recognize: the reboot.

Once someone started talking, your mind went into what you had nicknamed "short-reboot mode." It was like something within you flipped a switch, and suddenly, every part of you worked to cater to them.

Your eyes would track every shift in their expression, your ears catching every wobble in their voice. You'd analyze, break down every cue, every breath, until your responses flowed with practiced ease—the words that person needed to hear, the exact tone that made them relax.

Sometimes, you'd offer a soft, comforting touch. Other times, you'd say nothing at all, just be a presence there to anchor them.

When it was over, and they'd leave—well, that was when things got weird.

Not for them; no, for them it was almost as if a fog rolled over their memory of the whole thing. A protective influence that made the event seem far-off, unimportant, a comforting haze to keep them from fixating on you.

For you, though? You'd collapse in bed later on, mind swimming with everything you'd absorbed, while the Quirk worked behind the scenes to sort and compartmentalize every scrap of information.

It all got stored away—permanently—so you'd never forget.

And because of that, you hated it.

You hated how your brain worked on autopilot for everyone else, how every emotional exchange was something you'd retain forever while the small, everyday things slipped right through the cracks.

You'd put down your phone and lose it within minutes, or take things into a room one by one when you could easily grab everything at once. Your grandfather loved to tease you about it, always laughing as he cackled out, "Book sense, not a lick of common sense!"

Today, it was no different.

You groaned as you walked down the stairs from your bedroom, a yawn escaping your lips as you shuffled along.

You looked every bit as tired as you felt—oversized hoodie hanging loosely from your shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and slightly twisted, and your oversized socks pooling around your ankles.

Your clothes were a patchwork of dark shades, clinging to you in a way that made it clear you'd grabbed whatever was closest without a second thought. Your hair was pulled back into a lazy ponytail, secured with a shoelace of all things, because you couldn't find a single rubber band.

You sucked your teeth at the thought, recalling how bit by bit, you had given away every one of your hairbands over the last few weeks to others who needed them. "I just bought that bulk pack," you muttered under your breath, feeling the mild frustration bubble up as you ambled into the kitchen.

The moment you stepped into the bright atmosphere of the kitchen, it felt like you were walking into another world. The colors, the light, the very mood—all of it was the opposite of you. The kitchen was warm, sunlight pouring in through the curtains, highlighting the cheery yellow walls.

Your mother was already bustling around, her cotton candy pink hair tied neatly at the base of her neck, her slender form moving with practiced grace as she prepared breakfast.

Her skin was a deep, rich shade of brown, and her eyes were bright yellow, almost glowing, with small opal-like moles at the corners that caught the morning light. She looked like something from a storybook, too perfect for the mundane scene unfolding around her.

The moment she noticed you shuffling over, she gasped softly, a bright smile blooming across her face. "Good morning, ____~," she sang, her voice lilting and sweet. "Did you have a good rest?"

You grunted in response, barely managing to pull the chair out before plopping down into it, your face half-hidden by the hood of your sweatshirt.

"That's great, sweetie~," she chirped, entirely unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm. She set a plate of food in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Eat up. Your big brother will be taking you to school soon—you know how he gets about wanting you to be on time." She gave you one last gentle pat before twirling away, humming to herself, lost in her own vibrant little world.

It wasn't long before the rest of your family joined you. Your father and brother came down the stairs only seconds later, both of them just as bright and awake as your mother.

Your brother's footsteps were loud and purposeful as he approached, his hand ruffling your hair as he passed by. "Morning, sis," he said, his voice cheerful, a bright grin lighting up his face.

"Morning," you mumbled, barely looking up.

Your father followed, his broad shoulders taking up the space in the doorway for a moment as he stepped into the kitchen. His blue hair was tousled but neat, the same shade as the sky on a crisp morning. His green eyes were sharp but softened when he looked at you, a smile spreading across his face.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good morning, little love," he said, his voice deep and warm, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You sighed softly, nodding in response as they settled at the table.

Your mother moved between them, setting their plates down before finally taking a seat herself, her smile unwavering as she looked at all of you.

The scene was perfect, almost unreal in its harmony—the three of them chatting easily over breakfast, their voices blending together with the soft sound of birds chirping outside the window.

Even though it was a regular, cloudy day, the kitchen seemed filled with sunshine, the warmth radiating from your family like a beacon. Everything about the morning—the bright voices, the gentle smiles—made it feel mythical, as if you were living in a fairytale.

It was always like this: your family's moods almost too perfect, too light. How could they not be, though, when they had you? Built-in therapist, problem solver, always there to smooth over any tension, any hint of unease.

They could always be at their best because you carried the weight for them.

As everyone finished up, your brother stood, gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink. Your mother got up as well, moving to grab everyone's packed lunches for the day.

Your father turned to you, his gaze softening as he addressed you. "____," he started, his voice gentle but with a hint of something else—hesitation, maybe? "Could you come by my agency later after school? We've got a case... or, well, a patient. I could use your help again."

You hummed, a small sound of acknowledgment as you poked at the last bit of food on your plate. "Sure," you said, though the idea of it made your shoulders droop a little. It wasn't that you didn't want to help, but the thought of more people, more emotions, more weight, felt heavy already.

Your father's smile brightened, and he reached over, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, little love. You know it means a lot to me." He worked as a hero, and it wasn't uncommon for him to ask for your help.

He ran an agency called Constellation, and his quirk, Record, a photographic memory that worked both by touch and mentally, made him one of the best at what he did. He primarily worked with police and undercover heroes, solving cases that required an eye for detail that few others had.

Ever since you'd gained your quirk, he'd relied on you for the more delicate matters—the emotional weight of things that even he couldn't quite process alone.

A few seconds later, your brother returned, his grin blinding as he held out your backpack and lunch. "C'mon, sleepyhead," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "I got your stuff. Let's go catch the train."

You pushed your chair back, standing up with a stretch. "Yeah, yeah," you muttered, taking the bag from him. You turned to your parents, waving lazily over your shoulder. Your mother and father stood side by side, your father's arm wrapped around your mother's waist. She towered over him with her lithe frame, his head just reaching her collarbones. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart!" your mother called, her voice as sunny as ever.

"Have a good day, little love," your father added, giving you one last smile before you followed your brother out the door.

The cool morning air hit you as your brother led the way down the sidewalk, his usual confident stride carrying you both towards the train station.

You glanced over at him, watching as he talked animatedly, his hands moving to emphasize whatever point he was making. He was always like this—full of energy, especially in the mornings, unlike you, who was still trying to wake up.

As you both settled into your seats on the train, your brother continued to talk, his voice carrying over the quiet hum of the train. He was telling you all about his third year at Shiketsu High, his eyes sparkling as he described how different and fast-paced everything was compared to the previous year.

He even started rambling about his work-study with Fatgum, who he mentioned was an alumnus of Shiketsu High, and his fellow collegues, some guys named Suneater and Red Riot.

You glanced at your brother as he spoke, taking in his features. He looked like a perfect mix of both your parents.

His hair was a blend of your mother's bright pink and your father's deep blue, swirling together like cotton candy, giving him a vibrant and almost ethereal look.

His eyes were a mesmerizing combination of green and yellow—a galaxy of colors that seemed to shift with his mood, as if reflecting the emotions he felt around him.

Scattered across the bridge of his nose were luminescent, opal-like freckles, glowing faintly in the light as he spoke. They weren't just decorative; they were part of his Quirk, Emotilink—which was inherited from your mother—would glow and shift in color depending on the emotions of those he touched, allowing him to feel the emotions of others.

Together, their abilities made them almost like human mood rings, their markings betraying the emotional states of anyone in their vicinity.

Your brother was tall and broad-shouldered, his husky build making him seem both strong and comforting. His skin tone was a perfect, ambiguous shade—not quite pale, not quite dark—striking a balance that made him stand out without fitting neatly into any one category.

He carried himself with a confidence that only seemed to amplify the presence of his quirk, his luminescent markings always a glowing reminder of what he could do.

You, on the other hand, looked nothing like the rest of your family.

When you were younger, you'd had your mother's yellow eyes and your father's blue hair. But after your Quirk had manifested, everything about you seemed to change.

Your features had shifted, becoming more subdued, less distinct, until you were left with an appearance that could only be described as forgettable. Your hair had dulled to a mousy brown, and your eyes had lost their vibrancy, now a muted shade that seemed to blend in with the rest of you.

Sometimes you wished your Quirk was just that—forgettableness. Maybe then you wouldn't feel the weight of everyone else's emotions pressing down on you.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your brother grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you up from your seat. "Let's go," he said, his voice filled with his usual enthusiasm.

You barely had time to react before he was practically dragging you out of the train and towards the school.

It was a routine you were used to by now—your brother carrying you along, making sure you got where you needed to be without any issue.

He didn't even break a sweat as he deposited you in front of the school gates, his hands moving to smooth out your clothes and pat down your hair, completely uncaring of the looks you both were getting from the other students.

"Aaand... there!" he said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. He handed you your backpack, his grin widening. "Alright, sleepyhead, I'll meet you here after school to take you to Dad's agency, okay?"

You nodded, adjusting the straps of your backpack. "Yeah, okay," you replied, your voice barely louder than a mumble.

He bent down, staring you right in the face with a grin. "Have a great day, alright?" he said, his eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. He reached out, ruffling your hair one last time before turning to head towards his own school. "See ya later!"

You watched him go, a sigh escaping your lips as you turned to face the school. You never really understood why he insisted on taking you to school every morning, especially when his own school was a twenty-minute walk in the opposite direction.

But then again, he'd managed to maintain perfect attendance for the past two years, so he must have been doing something right.

With another sigh, you pulled out your headphones, hoping that maybe—just maybe—they would be enough to keep people away today. You knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

As you walked through the gates and into the bustling courtyard, you could already feel the familiar pull—the curious eyes, the hesitant glances, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

You pushed your headphones over your ears, the music drowning out the noise around you, but it wasn't enough.

It never was.

You stayed behind in the classroom during lunch, deciding to give yourself a break from the constant buzz of students. The cafeteria was always too loud, too busy, and you needed a moment to just be alone.

You pulled out a packet of fries you had bought earlier, munching on them absentmindedly while staring out of the window. The clouds rolled lazily across the sky, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off, letting the quiet calm your racing mind.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called. You turned, startled, to see your homeroom teacher hovering near the doorway. "____," she called again, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your teacher, Ms. Hachiko, was hard to miss. She had a distinctly bee-like appearance, with large, round eyes that shimmered like polished onyx, and her entire body was covered in soft, fuzzy yellow fur.

Two delicate antennae sprouted from her forehead, and her long hair was pinned back into a neat bun. She floated a few inches off the ground, her wings fluttering quietly behind her.

But it wasn't just her that caught your attention. Standing behind her, with his shoulders slouched and an unmistakable frown etched across his face, was none other than Aizawa Shouta—the underground hero, Eraserhead.

You felt your eyes widen, and you choked on the fry you had just been eating, your throat seizing in shock. You coughed, hitting your chest several times as tears welled up in your eyes.

Both adults stood there, awkwardly waiting as you hacked out a few more coughs. When you finally managed to catch your breath, Ms. Hachiko gave you an apologetic smile. "____, you need to speak with Eraserhead here," she said, her antennae twitching slightly. "I'll leave you two to it," she added before fluttering out of the room, her wings buzzing softly.

You were left alone with Aizawa, who ambled over to the desk beside you and dropped himself into the seat, his tired eyes fixed on you.

He was wearing his hero uniform, his capture weapon loosely wrapped around his neck, and his dark hair hung messily around his face. He looked exhausted, deep lines etched beneath his eyes, but even then, there was something undeniably striking about him. He had an air of quiet authority that demanded respect, no matter how disheveled he appeared.

He stared at you for a moment before finally speaking. "Look, kid, I'm not sure why Nezu sent me here," he began, his tone blunt, "but apparently, you're needed for something. Honestly, you're a child, and you shouldn't even be involved in this. But here we are."

You blinked at him, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that thee Eraserhead was sitting in front of you, talking to you. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Have you heard about the recent villain attack on the UA first-year training camp?"

You nodded slowly, recalling the news you had heard about it weeks ago. You remembered hearing that it was the same group of first-year students that had already had a run-in with villains at the USJ. "Yeah, I heard about it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "They got some crappy luck..."

Aizawa gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's been rough on them, that's for sure. The thing is, my boss, Principal Nezu, wants you to help the students who were most affected by the attack—Class 1-A. The other students have been able to get help from their assigned therapists, but Class 1-A... they're different. They've built a wall around themselves so thick that not even the best world-renowned therapists can break through. They think this is just part of being a hero, that they have to suck it up and move on."

You frowned, a slight pang of pity tugging at you as you listened. You knew what he was asking before he even finished explaining. It wasn't like you had a choice anyway. If Nezu, the head of UA, was asking, then your small, out-of-the-way school, Okiyama Municipal High, wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

With a heavy sigh, you slumped back in your chair, dropping your half-eaten packet of fries onto the desk. "Will I be back before school is over?"

Aizawa rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with your lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, you'll be back before the end of the day. Nezu already spoke with your parents. One of your father's sidekicks will pick you up from UA bring you straight to his agency. It shouldn't take too long—you're just meeting them and getting a quick assessment."

Shoulders slouching, you could already picture the long, draining night ahead of you. With a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself out of your seat, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, fine," you muttered, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. "Let's get this over with, then."

Aizawa gave you a curt nod, standing up as well. You followed him down the hallway, the silence between you two heavy but not uncomfortable.

It wasn't long before you were out of your small school building and on your way to UA, sitting beside the underground hero in a rather unremarkable car, driven by a UA staff member.

You were about to meet the students who had faced villains twice now, and you knew that whatever you were walking into, it wasn't going to be easy.

When you arrived at UA, the sight that greeted you was different from what you remembered. You had been to UA before, a few years ago when your brother brought you along during his campus tour while deciding where to attend high school.

Back then, UA had been impressive, sure, but now it looked almost like a university campus—new dormitories and additional buildings scattered across the grounds, giving it the appearance of a bustling college rather than just a high school.

Noticing your confused expression, Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff but explanatory. "After the training camp attack, UA opened up dormitories to house students. Villains have become more audacious lately, targeting students even outside school grounds. The dorms are an extra precaution, meant to keep them safe."

You nodded, taking in the new structures as Aizawa led you through the campus. It made sense, given how much had happened to these students already. You felt a small pang of sympathy for them—it couldn't be easy, constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

Eventually, you arrived at one of the dorm buildings, and Aizawa opened the door, ushering you inside.

You stepped into a spacious common area, expecting to see a dozen traumatized, weary teens gathered together. Instead, there were just two people sitting on the couch, their attention fixed on the television in front of them.

The room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the tension you felt brewing inside you.

The moment the door opened, both heads snapped towards you, their bodies relaxing slightly when they realized it was Aizawa. The redhead sitting closest to the door smiled brightly, while the blonde beside him scowled, his eyes narrowing.

"Kirishima," Aizawa grunted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation, "where is everyone?"

The redhead—Kirishima, you assumed—grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, some of them went out shopping, Sensei. And Deku and Shoto are out training."

Aizawa let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache. "I thought I told you all to stay put because you had an important visitor coming."

The blonde on the sofa snorted, his voice dripping with irritation. "What important guest, Sensei? Don't tell me it's that pipsqueak over there," he said, jerking his head in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback for a moment before letting out an affronted scoff. "Pipsqueak? I have you know, I'm taller than average," you sniffed, crossing your arms defensively.

The blonde gave you a withering look, scoffing again. "In what? Middle schoolers?"

Before you could retort, Aizawa intervened, his tired eyes narrowing at the blonde. "Bakugo, stop," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "I was told to bring you here, so even though not all of them are here, you've got two clients. Have fun," he said, giving you a small wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

You stared after him, your stomach sinking slightly. "Clients?" Kirishima asked, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you.

You forced a smile, feeling awkward under their curious gazes. "Uh, yeah. I'm here to... help you guys. I guess you could say I'm kind of like a counselor," you explained, scratching the back of your head.

Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise before his expression broke out into a wide grin. He jumped up from the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides to extend his hand to you. "Well, that's super manly! So young, yet already helping people like this. I'm Kirishima Eijiro," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You took his hand, shaking it a bit hesitantly. His grip was strong but friendly, and you couldn't help but notice the small details about him—his bright red spiky hair, the way his eyes seemed so genuine and open, the muscular build that made it clear he took his training seriously.

There was an energy about him that reminded you of your brother—that same relentless positivity.

Lord, it seemed you had found someone who could give your brother a run for his money.

"I'm Hanabira ____," you replied, your voice a bit more steady now.

The moment your name left your mouth, Eijiro's eyes widened even further, and he let out a gasp. "No way! You’re The Emotional Hero: Emberpulse's sibling?!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, yeah?"

Eijiro's grin grew impossibly wider as he continued, "Your brother talks about you all the time! It's like I practically know you already. He says you're always helping people out, even when it's not easy, and that you have this way of making everyone feel better just by being around."

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. "How did you even know? Our last name isn't exactly unique, and we don't look alike at all."

Eijiro blinked, then broke out into another grin, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't know, honestly. Your brother just said you gave off this aura of immediate kindness. Like, you just have this energy that makes people feel safe, you know? So when you introduced yourself, it kind of clicked."

A gruff voice cut in before you could respond. "Only you would make such a dumbass connection, Shitty-Hair," the blonde from earlier muttered, standing up from the couch. He turned to face you, his intense eyes boring into yours.

He had a scowl permanently etched onto his face, his posture confident and almost confrontational. His blond hair was unruly, and you couldn't help but notice the small, almost imperceptible twitches of annoyance in his expression—like he was constantly teetering on the edge of irritation.

Eijiro just laughed, seemingly unaffected by the insult. "That's Bakugo Katsuki, my best friend," he said, gesturing to the blonde. Katsuki sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes but not bothering to say anything further.

Eijiro turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "So, uh, what exactly are you here for?"

You sighed, holding your hands up. "Like Aizawa-san said, I'm here to help, but it's not exactly like I'm a therapist or anything. I didn't ask to be here either," you said, your tone a bit defensive.

Katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms. "We don't need a damn therapist," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.

You gave him a flat look, deciding not to engage in an argument. Eijiro, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in. "Hey, don't mind him. He's just... like that," he said, scratching his head awkwardly. "Uh, would you like to join us? We were just watching a movie."

You shrugged, figuring you might as well. "Sure," you said, trying to sound casual.

Internally, you figured it was better to stay and at least try to connect with them, given that the rest of the students weren't even there. Plus, Katsuki seemed like he'd be impossible to talk to seriously right now.

The three of you settled on the couch, and Eijiro quickly started chatting again, asking you questions about your brother, your Quirk, and your school. He leaned in a bit closer whenever you answered, his eyes bright with curiosity and genuine interest.

You could tell he was trying to understand you better, his questions growing more specific as the conversation progressed.

At one point, he asked about your brother's favorite hobby, sharing how they had bonded during training sessions over their shared love of working out.

"You know, your brother's kind of like a legend," Eijiro said, his eyes wide with admiration. "I know I already told you, but he always talks about you, and I was really excited to finally meet you. He says you're his biggest inspiration."

You felt a warmth spread across your chest—a mix of pride and embarrassment. You gave a small smile, shrugging. "He always exaggerates. I'm really not that special."

Eijiro shook his head vigorously, his red hair bouncing slightly. "No way! I can totally see it. You've got this calming vibe. It's like... you make everything seem a little less scary, you know?" His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you could feel a slight buzz in the back of your mind—a familiar haze that signaled your Quirk almost activating.

You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of your body language, realizing that your posture had subtly shifted to mirror Eijiro's, your smile matching his intensity.

Quickly, you broke eye contact, focusing on Katsuki instead, who was watching the interaction with an annoyed expression.

He caught your gaze, and his scowl deepened. "Don't let Shitty-Hair butter you up. He's got a habit of getting all sentimental," Katsuki muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eijiro laughed, giving Katsuki a playful nudge. "Aw, come on, Bakugo. Just trying to make our guest feel welcome."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite behind his irritation. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't go crying on us, idiot."

The conversation shifted, and Eijiro asked more about your school life. You found yourself relaxing again, the haze receding as you focused on answering his questions.

He seemed genuinely fascinated by even the mundane details—how you spent your days, what subjects you liked, even your least favorite lunch options. There was a warmth in his attention, a genuine desire to know you, that made it easy to keep talking.

Time seemed to pass quicker than you expected, and even Katsuki, though gruff and standoffish, eventually chimed in with a few sarcastic comments.

You noticed that, despite his harsh words, he never actually dismissed anything you said. It was as if he begrudgingly accepted your presence, though he made sure to keep up his rough exterior.

At one point, Eijiro nudged you lightly with his elbow, a grin on his face. "You know, I think you and Bakugo would get along great if you gave it a shot. He acts tough, but he's got a good heart. Right, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki's glare could have cut glass. "Don't drag me into your dumb ideas, Shitty-Hair," he snapped, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable.

Eijiro just laughed again, unbothered, and you couldn't help but smile. It was strange, but you found yourself feeling a sense of comfort in their dynamic—like, despite their differences, they had a bond that was hard to break.

After what felt like a couple of hours or so, there was a knock at the dorm door. Aizawa entered, followed by one of your father's sidekicks, who gave you a nod. "Time to go," the sidekick said, their voice gentle but firm.

You stood up, giving Eijiro a small wave. "I guess I’ll see you around," you said.

Eijiro grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "For sure! And thanks for coming by, ____. It was... nice."

You nodded, turning to follow Aizawa and the sidekick out of the dorms.

The ride to your father's agency was quiet, your mind still replaying the interactions you had just had. You found yourself mentally sorting through the profiles you had unconsciously built on both Eijiro and Katsuki so far.

Eijiro was enthusiastic, open, and incredibly genuine—his positivity seemed almost endless, and you could tell he was the kind of person who made it his mission to uplift others.

He had this earnestness that made you feel at ease, like he genuinely cared about the people around him. He was always leaning in, listening intently, and his questions showed just how interested he was in knowing you.

There was something infectious about his energy, and it reminded you so much of your brother—the way they both could fill a room with warmth just by being themselves.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was more of a closed book. He was gruff, blunt, and had an intensity that made it hard to know what he was really thinking.

Yet, underneath all of that, you could see small glimpses of something else—his scowl wasn't always as sharp as he wanted it to be, and he had moments where it felt like he begrudgingly accepted your presence.

He never outright dismissed you, and while his comments were sarcastic, they didn't carry the kind of malice you might have expected.

It was almost like he was challenging you to see past the tough exterior, to prove that you could handle being around him.

When you arrived, your father was waiting for you, his expression stern.

He grabbed your arm, his eyes serious as he looked at you. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice low. "The villain you're about to interact with is dangerous. He was part of the Vanguard Action Squad—Mustard. He's unpredictable, so I need you to be cautious. Understand?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Got it, Dad."

He gave you a small, almost reluctant smile, his grip on your arm loosening. "Good. Just... be careful, alright, little love?"

You nodded again, feeling the weight of what was about to come settle heavily in your chest.

This was just another part of your Quirk, another responsibility you had to shoulder—whether you wanted to or not.

A/N: so what's the verdit? will it be good as a fic or just do a one-shot series???

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probablysimpledreams · 2 months ago

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#BlazeIt (ft Hawks, Shigaraki, & Dabi)

sooo technically there's still a few hours till 4/20 but we're all gonna celebrate early with my fav bnha men<33 so enjoy these mini fics of smoking/getting high with hawks, shiggy, and dabi <33

-> hawks x reader: coughing up a lung [wc: 591]

"Phew it's much nicer out here," you sigh as you lay on the ground next to Hawks and he nods in agreement. The two of you had slipped away from the Pro Hero Ranking after party, running up a flight of stairs before any HSPC staff could notice your disappearances. Sure Hawks could have flown you both up to the rooftop but there was something more fun and sneaky about running up the staircase as quickly as possible, breathless from the movement and laughing.

It still amazed you that you were here with Hawks, the Number 2 Pro Hero. You two were the same age but you had barely made it into the top 20 while he sat at the top. But even so here the wing hero was, laid out on the rooftop laughing with you. While this wasn't your first time meeting Hawks, it was the first time you two were together without a villain in the way (well in his way, you usually were tasked with aiding civilian excavations). Sometimes you two would chat briefly after group debriefs of these villain attacks but to both your and his disappointments, those conversations were always cut short as he was always on the run.

"Watch doin?" he asks, turning to face you with an eyebrow raised as he watches you fiddle around in your bag. He watches as you pull out a small metal object, placing it between your lips then sucking until the small light on the front starts blinking. You take a deep breath before blowing out the smoke. Hawks had seen cigarettes and joints before, but this seemed different.

"Just needed to hit my pen after being around all those people," you explain as you extend your hand out to him. "Want some?"

As someone who had never smoked anything before, Hawks knew he probably should decline your offer. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you. But part of him felt more embarrassed not accepting the offer. If he said no would you think he's lame? For some reason that worried him, so before giving it a second thought he took the pen from your hands. Remembering what you did, the held down the little button and began sucking in the vapor. He kept doing so until the light flashed, thinking that meant he was supposed to stop. He was not expecting it to be so harsh on his throat, causing him to cough so hard you both were worried he was going to throw up. You try asking him if he's okay, searching your bag for a water bottle or anything to help him. A warm half drank bottle of green tea sat at the bottom of the bag and you decided that was better than nothing, helping him get the fluid down to stop his coughing fit. However, he kept coughing for a good ten minutes.

"Do carts always make you cough this hard?" you ask, rubbing his back as he kept coughing. He shook his head in response, mumbling something about that being his first pen hit in between coughing. "And you took a blinker at that??" You started laughing, and his wings fluttered at the sound.

He thought he'd feel embarrassed but between the sound of you sweet laugh and the sight of your beautiful face under the moonlight, Hawks had never felt happier. Even though he wasn't entirely sure what was going on, he'd gladly do it again and again if it meant you'd stay so happy beside him.

-> shigaraki x reader: this edible ain't shit (famous last words) [wc: 555]

"This edible ain't shit," Tomura complained, making you laugh.

"Tomura it hasn't even been an hour yet, be patient," you responded as you continued working on the drawing in front of you.

It was a quiet night at the hideout as the League was still a week out until their next large scale attack. The rest of the members had already left the common room for their own bedrooms, either fast asleep or just enjoying alone time. You weren't ready to sleep yet, and you knew Tomura often had trouble falling asleep the days leading up to an attack. The past failures had taught him a lot as a leader, but also gnawed at his anxiety. So you wanted to help him relax and get a full night's sleep which is how you two ended up taking edibles on the dingy couch, throwing on a random movie on the Netflix account he was able to hack into. You only watched the first few minutes of the movie as you were more in the mood for arts and crafts, doodling little shapes and figures across the page. As time passed you'd glance up at Tomura who was deeply engrossed into the movie, making you smile. It was nice to spend time together just you two like this, these moments giving you a deeper glimpse into the person Tomura was behind the dreams and desires he led the group with. As the night continues you feel your body tingle, a signal that the edible is kicking in. Just before you got the chance to ask how he was feeling, Tomura spoke up with an annoyed tone.

"This movie sucks, nothing is happening," he complains. The affects of the weed and his whines make you giggle before you help him look for the remote. After tearing apart the couch, you found it on the floor and were about to click out of the movie. You read the screen in front of you asking ARE YOU STILL HERE WATCHING? [YES-PLAY] [NO-RETURN TO HOME]. The realization that he had been sitting there watching this paused screen for the past two hours. You couldn't help laugh harder now, falling onto the floor as you couldn't control the sound erupting from your chest. He watched confused, ignoring the butterflies swarming his heart upon hearing your laugh and convincing himself the feeling is coming from the weed and not his growing feelings for you.

"What?" he asks blankly, scratching his neck as his hazy eyes glance down at your body laid out on the floor.

"You're funny," you manage to control your laughter and collect yourself to you answer him. You crawl over to where he's seated on the couch, your eyes hazy like his as you look up at him while you place your hands on his knees to balance yourself. "I like that about you." His eyes widen at your sudden confession, making him feel an uncomfortable rush of emotions.

"And you're weird," he says while pinching your nose. You whine as you jump to your feet, rubbing the sore area as you flop back onto the couch with a pout. "And I love that about you," is what he wants to say. But instead he just laughs at your dramatic reaction before putting on a movie he knows you like.

-> dabi x reader: misery loves company [wc: 582]

It wasn't unusual for Dabi to disappear into the night with nothing but a promise he will return before the sun comes up. As much as you worried over him and his whereabouts, you knew trying to get more information than that out of him was impossible. You often wondered where he'd run off to, asking your fellow League members who also had no clue. They of course cared about him and his safety, but knew he could handle himself so as long as he returned they saw no harm in his excursions. You just so happened to be running your own errands one of these nights and ran into him sitting on a park bench, puffs of smoke leaving his mouth.

"Dabi?" you approach him, street lights barely lit enough to make out his face. Lack of light aside, his expression was hard to make out. He looked hurt, like he was in pain and it made your heart break. "Can I join you?"

"Whatever," he shrugs, taking another puff as you take your seat. The smell burns your nose as you recognize it was weed instead of nicotine like you were originally expecting. The scent made your shoulders drop, the idea of being high after the busy day you just had sounded wonderful. It's almost as if Dabi read your mind as he nudged your shoulder, holding the joint out for you to take a hit. You quickly thank him before grabbing the joint, placing it to your lips before breathing in then out with a relaxed sigh. He snickers at the way you practically melt into the wooden park bench, taking the joint back from you to take more hits himself.

"What are you doing over here anyways? It's kinda out of the way from the hideout and all."

"Just came here to smoke," he responds in between puffs.

"Yeah but why?"

"Takes the pain away."

"I thought you can't feel anything?"

"Not that kind of pain idiot," the bite behind his words told you to stop asking questions. You didn't need to know this park was only blocks away from the Todoroki household. You didn't need to know this park was where Dabi spent many nights alone and scared. You didn't need to know he was constantly pulled back here, back to his past like this. So you two go back to sharing the joint in silence, your eyes focused on the starry sky above where you two sat. They look so beautiful in the night sky, especially with how relaxed and calm the high was making you feel. That's when you see it pass through the sky.

"Dabi look!!" you cheer, leaning to lay against him as you point to the sky. "A shooting star!! Make a wish!!"

Dabi looks up to the sky, following your finger before looking back at your face. The excitement in your eyes and smile tugged at his heart like it always did. You had this strange affect on Dabi that he didn't quite understand. He often tried fighting it, not wanting you to squeeze your way any closer to him than you somehow already had. But tonight, he had no desire to fight you and your affect on his heart. Instead he leaned into you as he was happy to not be alone.

"Don't tell me you believe in that shit," he groans as if the shooting star didn't already grant his wish by bringing you here to his side tonight.

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yashirawr · 11 months ago

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katsuki, shouto and izuku with a reader who is like giselle from enchanted !!

bnha main three x gn!giselle!reader.

type: headcanons, fluff (& a splash of angst if you squint reaaaally hard)

warnings: kissing, a bit of cursing bc bakugou is here but otherwise so much fluffy fluff ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ reader's quirk is not mentioned per se.

a/n: hi, sweet people !! i've been practicing my english skills to write and expand my vocabulary but i'm still not quite good, so i apologize if you see something misspelled :c i accept criticism !! ok, so, yesterday i saw enchanted and disenchanted and realized how much i wanna be like giselle haha and when i looked for fanfiction with a giselle-like reader i was left heartbroken since i didn't find any TT so i took it upon myself to write something, hope you like this <3

♡ ୭̥ ° bakugo katsuki

this boy is known for showing his hate for sweet things, yet no one – not even him – is able to comprehend why you're the exception.

since the first day of school he can tell you're going to be more annoying than all the other extras. randomly humming and singing, using smooth arm movements as if you came from a fairytale.

you look harmless, a stupid pushover. his only comfort is that you won't get in his way.

or that's what he thinks.

because with time, he starts seeing more of you. his gaze starts to linger whenever you're around, putting careful attention to your actions, your expressions. wide eyes and radiant smile, always trying to spread kindness and love, so genuine; you're like an open book.

katsuki's rough, katsuki's loud, katsuki's explosive.

so imagine his surprise when he realizes with time that the sight of you makes his eyes soften, his chest warm, his guard drop.

he wants to deny it, he wants to deny it very strongly. however, everyone can tell how, little by little, he starts to open up to you.

he lets you be closer, so vivid around him. you can do things that others would get yelled at for trying. when did anyone see somebody getting into bakugou's personal space – whether it is laying on his shoulder or playing with his hair – and leave unharmed? when did anyone see somebody using his stuff and not recieving any kind of ill treatment for doing so?

the two of you start spending time together, much to his dismay because of your classmates' teasing. yet it takes you being in danger during a villain attack for katsuki to realize how deep his feelings are.

oh, no– he's falling in love.

and he goes livid. he might seem like someone who already acts recklessly during combat but that's not the truth at all. the want, the need to take you into his arms and protect you is what leads him to take such impulsive decisions.

don't get him wrong, he knows you can defend yourself; you're just as much of a badass as you are of an optimist, after all.

but it's this side you bring out of him. this soft, tender side.

it drives him crazy.

so, once the horror passes and your class settles into its usual endeavors, he does what he knows best: he tries to push you. he tries to make you leave, to scare you off.

but why aren't you running away?

why are you cradling his face with a gentle, loving touch?

one thing leads to the other and your lips meet in a true love's kiss, as you would say.

after that, katsuki resigns to listening to your rambling about animals and love and flowers–

he's there to give you a reality check when it's needed, anyway.

"get out of that pretty little head of yours, dumbass, there's fucking homework to do"

yeah, he wouldn't have it any other way.

bonus: you're literally a grumpy x sunshine pairing !! it's hilarious to see you two in the common room because katsuki seems to hold back in showing physical affection or any state of flusteredness. you learned not to demand it from him, either, because he always gets red and would hate for anyone else other than you to see it. it's alright, though, because as soon as you're alone he turns into a clingy puppy. good luck trying to get rid of him to do something just as brief as going to the bathroom !!

♡ ୭̥ ° todoroki shouto

shouto's life has never been any sort of fairytale. all that love chitchat... yeah, pretty much false.

but then he meets you, and you're so eager to show him.

so you start sticking to him, following him around. it could look like pestering for some people, but to shouto?

oh, shouto's charmed by you.

it takes him some time. before the sports festival, he couldn't help but give you cold stares and dry replies. of course, your enthusiastic self would take all of that without complaining.

but it is after the event that he starts to open his eyes and contemplate a little more of you. especially after you compliment his quirk and express how happy you are for him, for truly giving his all during the fights and making use of his fire.

another element, you said, that was part of him and needed to be seen. you mentioned how you believed in him, warm smile painted on your lips as you beamed with joy.

there was no way he would get his eyes off of you after that.

although shouto is quiet, his gaze is intense. thankfully you're unaware of such things – trained to being accostumed to stares by your whole life experience – so you can't tell how the next days he's so entranced by you and the way you carry yourself so gracefully.

you see beauty everywhere, often even stopping in your tracks to observe your surroundings. you seem to shine, delighted.

too occupied by twirling around and interacting with everyone around you, you fail to notice how he's softly smiling at the sight.

as time passes, your conversations stop being one-sided. his replies show more interest, it's not only about his gaze anymore but also about the way he accepts all your affections; melting into your touch.

the way he's always there to protect you when villain attacks happen, when anyone looks at you the wrong way or tries to talk to you in as much as a slightly rude tone. the way he comforts you whenever you're sensitive about something, never questioning where did it come from.

you're his top priority.

so when you share a first kiss, he feels his heart pumping so hard it could jump right off his chest. this unknown feeling, leading him to be so attached to you, was love all this time.

you were right about showing him, he figures.

because now holding your hand gives him so much happiness that he now kind of gets why you're so enthusiastic about said concept.

when you go on one of your rambles about it and ask him, "right?" he smiles at you and responds:

"yes, my love, i think i know now"

you smile at him, so widely as you always do, and he leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

bonus: when he tells you his family story for the first time, you cry. you cry so much until you feel his strong arms wrap around you. yet shouto, despite trying to comfort you since you were the one crying, feels as if your embrace comforts him. you hug him by the waist, rubbing his back so gently and carefully that it brings tears to his eyes. everyday he feels more enamoured by you.

♡ ୭̥ ° midoriya izuku

you meet for the first time with izuku because of bumping into him during the quirk's test on the first day of class. he falls and you crouch along with him, soft-spokenly apologizing and asking if he's alright.

as he looks up at you, the boy can only think of how you look exactly like an angel.

you best believe our baby broccoli blushes furiously to his ears.

it doesn't take you anything to become friends and when you do he realizes that, despite both of you being pretty positive people, you have very different ways of thinking.

everything to you is magical, wonderful, exciting. izuku learned this from only the first few days of knowing you, and he found it really beautiful and encouraging. it was something to admire you for, and it never failed to impress him the way you would always be open to new opportunities, grateful for every single one you were given.

similarly, nothing to you was ever a problem! so when izuku rambled about his past, his difficulties with his quirk and worries you always found a way to make his point of view shift 180° and move on to positive thoughts.

in a world where he's exposed to so much pressure, you act as a beacon of life that peaks through the darkness.

and so, you're with him every step of the way.

he doesn't even know when his love for you starts blooming, especially since he has such a focus on heroics that doesn't usually let him think about anything else. but when he finds himself dreaming about your bright smile, mumbling as he watches you from afar sing to happy little animals you encountered, blushing to the tips of his ears by only hearing you say his name with so much care and glee–

he realizes too late he's down bad. in fact, he's the last one to realize, since the whole class watches in horror as you two interact so lovingly with each other as almost second nature.

mina has the theory that the two of you are secretly together, but it is obvious for everyone that if you two really were, you would be shouting it to the four winds. that's just who you are, and that's just how they know izuku loves you.

of course, you're the first one to make a move.

you go up to him before class one random morning and ask him if he would like to go out on friday afternoon. he accepts at first, smiling widely at you and you respond with a bubbly "alright then! it's a date!"

his face seemed to turn all shades of red and even go through some other colors before digesting that information.

"a-a d-date with me...?" he lifts a finger, you hum in amusement.

"of course, silly. i'd want no other prince for me but you."

needless to say, it goes amazingly and now the class has to deal with you giving him little pecks on his lips, cheeks and hands as he turns red because of the sudden affection.

bonus: in his notebook page about your quirk he has written a whole analysis of how you and your voice are appealing to animals and what does that have to do with it. he even tried talking about it to you, but your reply was: "i'm not quite sure, but i can only be grateful about them! they are my friends and i'm truly fortunate for their company!"

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader #🌸໑ㅤ with love; bibi 𖹭

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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 8 months ago

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Getting Kidnapped 2 - BNHA/MHA

A/n: Saw a lot of peeps like the first getting kidnapped thing I wrote so we’re doing another one with some of my favorite characters!!!

Features: Keigo Takami, Katsuki Bakugo, Nemuri Kayama & Rumi Usagiyama

TAKAMI Keigo (Hawks) -

"Jackpot!" You whisper-yell into the silent air after sucessfully finding the files the pro-hero had hidden.

As you're stuffing the bag, the door to the room you're in opens to reveal the pro in relaxing clothing. His eyes widen at the same time as yours and you both just look at each other.

"Well...this is awkward."

You look towards the window and then book it. A feather shoots past your cheek, slicing it in the process. You turn and look at him with utter astonishment.

"Wow. Hawks ruins the pretty villain's face." You wipe your cheek with the back of your hand, smiling at him.

"What's in the bag?" He points at it with one of his now sharp feathers in his grasp.

"Nothing that concerns you."

When it turns to come back towards you, you grab the end of the feather and direct it into the window, breaking it. You hop out the window with the duffel bag on. You knew he was going to chase you.

It’s all going according to plan.

You feel him grab the front of your shirt as he turns through the air. You open your eyes and look at him with a smirk.

“Where are we going?” You ask, turning your head to look back at his apartment building.

“You’re going to jail, thief.”

“Am I?”

You put your hand on his wings, controlling the feathers at your will. His eyes widen as you both start to fall. Using his feathers, you fly back to the apartment. Once you’re safe inside, you send them back to Hawks who was free falling in the night air.

You watch for a moment as the feathers immediately go to him. You turn and walk out of his apartment after you see him flying towards the window.

“Better luck next time, number two.”

——————————

BAKUGO Katsuki -

“Y/nnnn!”

You look over at your pink friend with a welcoming smile. She sits beside you on one of the common space couches.

“Minaaaa! What’s up?”

“Well…the guys and I made a bet…involving you…going into Bakugo’s room.”

You immediately turn your head away from your electronic device.

“What!?”

“All you need to do is take something from his room… like a pen or - or a pillow or something like that.”

“How much did you bet on me?”

Mina looks away before speaking.

“About 50-65 bucks…”

“Minaaa…”

“Please Y/n!”

You sigh and place your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Fine…”

Mina cheers, hugs you and then wishes you good luck. You just exhale and walk towards his dormitory door. You use your quirk to phase through his entrance and silently move across his floor.

You look over at his bed where Katsuki resided. He was fast asleep with drool and snores coming out of the side of his open mouth. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, he looked so cute sleeping.

You dart your eyes across his dorm and they land on a small All Might doll. The only issue was how close it was to his bed. Bakugo has ears like a goddamn bat. You reach forward as slowly as possible for the doll.

You’re so close but so far. You hear the bed creak and you stop, eyes moving to his face. He’s still asleep, thank god! As soon as try to grab the doll, his hand shoots out from under his pillow. Red groggy eyes meet your shocked ones.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

You don’t say a word before you activate your quirk and slip from his grasp. You’re almost at the door until he grabs your ankle to make your fall. He looks down at you, grabbing your wrist again.

“Why do you need that?” He eyes the doll in your hand.

“They made a bet surrounding me Katsuki. I just need to bring something from your room.”

He pats his bed, takes the toy from your hand and walks out the room. As you’re sitting on the bed waiting for him, you can hear him yelling at Mina, Sero, Kiri and Denki about gambling with people. He enters the room and flops on the bed.

“Where’s your All Might doll?”

“I threw it at them.”

“That’s not nice…”

He turns to face you on his side.

“Gambling without someone knowing is mean…”

“…Katsuki!”

“I’m speaking my truth, woman!”

He rubs his eyes and then climbs back into bed. You go to leave but the loud and obnoxious ‘ahem’ makes your head swivel. He doesn’t look at you as he holds his comforter up, inviting you in.

“Since you woke me up…”

You climb into his bed with a smug smile.

“Awww Katsuki! Can I call you Suki?”

“Hell no! Now shut up and go to sleep!”

————————————

KAYAMA Nemuri (Midnight) -

CRACK!

You let out a small quiet scream as you’re lifted in the air by your leg. You snap your head to the darkened doorway to see a sleepy midnight with her whip in hand. She just looks at you, ties the end of her whip to something nearby and sturdy then speaks to you.

“I’m taking you to the police station in a couple hours. Take a nap.”

She holds her exposed arm out at you, releasing her sleepy gas. You activate your quirk and simply blink at her. Her eyes slightly widen at you and then she shakes her head.

“You’re one tough cookie. I’m still going to take you to the police station.”

You start to struggle against her tough whip but then think of an idea out of it.

“Midnight, how about a date?”

“No.”

“Come on… please.”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for anything…”

“Do you want me to take you to the police station right now?”

“…please.”

After a couple minutes, the police take you out of Midnight’s house. You just keep your eyes on her and smile.

“I’ll see you soon Midnight! Sleep well, sexy!”

“Have fun behind bars, Y/n.”

You look at the police officers dragging you away.

“Oh my god! THE Midnight knows my name!”

They both roll their eyes and push you into the back of their police car.

————————————

USAGIYAMA Rumi (MIRKO) -

You could hear her laughing from inside her apartment. You guessed she was either talking with someone (hopefully on the phone) or watching a funny movie. Your boss told you all about her enhanced senses such as her hearing and agility in general. He also patted you on the back and reminded you not to die… how kind of him.

Taking a breath, you activate your quirk and slink into her apartment. Her bedroom door swings open to reveal the one and only Mirko. Her ears were twitching in every direction. You were so thankful that you had a chameleon quirk.

“Someone’s in my house.”

You hear her whisper into her phone before tossing it into her room and shutting the door. She moves around her kitchen and dining room cautiously. A creak where you were currently residing creaked loudly. Her head and ears twitched in your direction before walking over.

She's standing right in front of you in minutes. You slowly move your hand over your mouth and press yourself even closer into the wall. Mirko leans in and then sniffs the air. You watch as her eyes widen, and she quickly brings her leg up to attack. You roll to the side, obviously not camouflaged anymore.

"Damn, you got a good nose on you."

You take a glimpse at the wall where she kicked, and your face dropped. There was a very long hole in the wall. You might be meeting Jesus today if you're not careful. She rushes toward you, preparing to grab you with her legs. You change your body texture to become slimy and slip away from her grasp.

"What even are you, villain?"

"A chameleon..."

She charges towards you again with vigorous attacks. You start to counterattack with your tail before shooting your tongue out and restricting her movements.

"Damn, I'm only trying to grab one thing."

You watch as she struggles against your tongue and growls at you with an angry grimace on her face.

"This isn't a fair fight!"

"I wasn't even trying to fight you! You decided to come to me."

You rummaged through her house, trying to find her information or anything important. While your back was facing her, a sharp kick connects with your arm. You look at her and see that she was now closer to you. This bitch really found a way to scoot her ass over next to you.

"Mm... smart little bunny."

You watch her face at the nickname. She fucking hates it LOL.

"Alright, I got what I came here for. Bye bunny."

You stand up, slurped your tongue back into your mouth and then headed towards the door. She gets up again and comes after you. Her legs were obviously aiming for your head, so you simply dropped to the floor and grabbed her leg with your tail. You throw her down on the ground and then leave. You see her door open to reveal her once again.

"You just don't quit..."

You step into the elevator and the doors close. You could hear her screaming and banging on the elevator door as you descend. Something inside you feels terrible for her but you just continue to your getaway car.

—————————————

Check out the master list here —> link

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sister-of-hitoshi · 1 year ago

Text

Bnha main three x turned to child reader

Scenarios with just fluff! This one has a lil drabble too hehe~

Katsuki Bakugo

A noisy weekend afternoon, pathetic winds making noise through the damned trees, and the extras just being extras, Katsuki Bakugo was fed up with the day, wishing for evening to come already, so that the common school gym opened and he could get started with his weekend training regimen.

It was literally just another shitty day.

Even his s/o had gone somewhere so he was all alone.

Not like he'll ever admit to missing them.

From the common room, he made his way to his own room, wishing to be just left by himself.

However his extremely polite wish to the gods was not granted.

Since he'd stumbled upon a damned brat right after entering his room.

Wtf?!

"What's this thing doing here...?"

Was even more stunned when that same brat had swiftly crawled upto him, and then upon him, and had landed on his shoulder.

The brat's crawling speed was unreal.

He wasted no time in grabbing the brat with one hand and shoving the thing on his bed.

"Who are you?" He inquired, making an expression which would be enough to scare any brat away.

But of course, you weren't just any brat, you were a special brat.

So, instead of answering his question, you did the next best thing that came to your tiny brain, you mimicked his question, asking him who he was, your lips curling into an innocent smile.

Wait- he feels he knows this smile-

"Y/n...?"

You hold his face in your chubby hands and nod vigorously.

He feels proud first, shocked next.

"How tf?"

Immediately became more gentle with handling you, his precious dumbass.

Didn't waste any time informing Aizawa about the situation. After much thought, Aizawa had reluctantly agreed on letting Bakugo be in charge of his fellow classmate.

"You are under my care huh?! Well you better behave AND ADDRESS ME AS YOUR MASTER!"

Loves how you broke into fits of giggles just after.

Most of your conversation with him was just playful banter.

"BA-k-bojhfh yur name's hawd" you say while poking his cheek

"WAIT-HOW COULD YOU SPELL MY NAME WRONG??!"

He was like an experienced caretaker. He immediately understood how you were feeling at any moment of the day, and caught onto your eating habits with the precision of a seasoned professional.

He kept in touch with both his studies and recovery girl, who informed him about the period of 3 days for the effects of your current state lasting.

Nothing that he couldn't handle.

Most of the times you were perched onto his shoulder like a baby bird.

He found your shenanigans enjoyable.

Except for the fact that you seemed to get his name wrong everytime.

After a few minutes from his trip to recovery girl

"There are three cards arranged here. Now get the cards one after the other and spell it correctly" Bakugo said in a somewhat calm manner- the calmest he could get with his anger

You nodded in response, picking the first card.

"B-A....Ba!"

And then you show it to him. "Baa!!" You say more eloquently in an excited manner.

You pickup the second pair.

"Kuuu~" you chirp happily as he nods in a satisfied manner "Baku!" You repeat happily.

Bakugo with his folded arms kept watching you, hoping that now you would finally get his name right.....(also not to hide it- he enjoyed the sight of his adorable partner trying to learn his name)

It was going fine until- "GUo...?"

Now Bakugo got a tick mark on his forehead and his triangular eyes appeared.

"AAAGGHHHHDAMNIT" He shouted with his hands pulling at his hair "NOW GIMME THOSE CARDS YOU CAN DO NOTHING"

You just nodded enthusiastically and gave him the cards, and perched on his shoulder.

"Say it-Ba"

"Ba"

"Ku"

"Kuu~"

"Go"

"...Go?"

Bakugo saw a new ray of hope-

"Now say it!- Ba-ku-go!!"

There was one minute of silence until-

"Bakujjgfxhuj-"

OH C'MON IT'S NOT THAT HARD!!!" Bakugo said, being exhausted.

And you burst into a fit of giggles.

For Todoroki Shouto: Here

For Izuku Midoriya: Here

#mha x gender neutral reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha #mha x y/n #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #hot head #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha class 1a #main trio

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neo-my-geo · 2 years ago

Text

Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.

However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.

The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction.

“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”

Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!

Yes, I will explain how to use commas.

It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.

There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people.

What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone.

The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.

You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it.

Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates.

Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.

With that out of the way, let’s get going!

I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems.

The apostrophe

This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent.

Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.

A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.

There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence.

When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.

A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:

What’s (what is)

They’re (they are)

It’s (it is)

Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.

Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!

Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.

Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’

The comma and the semicolon

You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.

Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true!

The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced.

In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause.

An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.

A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere.

A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.

Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma.

Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks.

Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!

If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.

When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma.

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.

Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses.

Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life.

It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.

It’s really that easy!

Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives.

The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives?

Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.

When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well.

Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.

When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma.

Other common problems

This section is dedicated to putting specific grammatical errors into words, along with how to solve them.

Not sticking to the chosen point of view

Always choose your point of view before you start. Is it in the first, second, or third person? Is it omniscient or limited? Does the point of view switch during the story?

First person perspective is told as if the POV character is directly describing their experience to the reader. The character uses I and we to describe their own actions.

Second person perspective is told as if the reader is a character in the story and their actions are being described to them. This is the rarest, and the most difficult to write.

Third person perspective is the most common and the simplest to write. The events of the story are a separate entity from the reader altogether and the narrator uses they/he/she/it pronouns for characters.

Omniscient perspective means the narrator of the story knows all, including the thoughts and feelings of each character.

Limited perspective means the narrator of the story only knows what the POV character knows.

Past and present tense

When you decide between writing a story in past or present tense, it is crucial that you do not switch between them unless it is narratively intentional. Reading a past tense story that mistakenly switches to the present tense is like being pulled out of the room someone is telling a story in and suddenly taking part in it yourself. It’s disorienting and gives the reader unwanted pause.

Overly-long paragraphs

A common adage spread by English teachers is that most paragraphs should be at least eight sentences long. This is great advice for beginner essays. You’re writing fiction.

If you have a new thought, start a new paragraph! A concise and well-read single-sentence paragraph is infinitely better than one that drags a thought for too long. Aim to have a blend of paragraph lengths when you write, alternating between the descriptive and the punctual.

Dangling participles

A dangling participle is when a word is used to describe a noun that isn’t actually present in the sentence. Much like how a sentence without an action isn’t grammatically correct, neither is a sentence without a subject.

Malapropisms

A malapropism is when an author mistakenly uses one word or phrase instead of another similar-sounding one. I’m not about to list every single malapropism ever made, but these are the ones I notice most often:

To comprehend is to understand something, to apprehend is to arrest someone, and to be apprehensive is to be anxious or fearful of something bad happening.

Could care less means you do care. Couldn’t care less means you don’t.

A lot means a large amount of something. Alot isn’t a word and you shouldn’t use it.

The only real solution to using malapropisms is to make sure you fully understand any words you use in your writing. Never guess, and make sure you always google it. Having beta readers also helps.

If you made it this far, congratulations! You now know the most common errors in amateur fiction and how to solve them! Thank you for listening to me complain for two thousand words.

The most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to make mistakes. First drafts are always gonna be a little bad. The real key to success is knowing what your end goal is, and how you plan on achieving it. Here’s hoping this was a helpful tool for that!

Shoutout to @salmonandsoup for helping me think of the list of issues to address! You're a real one. Also shoutout to my mom, who doesn't have Tumblr. Also the third person. You know who you are.

#grammarposting #tf2 #grammar #educational shitpost #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #writing advice #fanfiction writing advice #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #bro your participle is dangling

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aghost-writer · 5 months ago

Text

Enough

Chapter 2

This is a Yandere MHA/BNHA x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

The living room was quiet except for the low murmur of the television. Y/N sat cross-legged on the plush couch, her attention fixed on the screen as the news anchor droned on about the latest hero activities. Her eyes darted eagerly across the headlines, searching for any mention of her favorite hero, Eraserhead. It had been a while since he had made an appearance, and her heart sank a little with each passing report that didn’t mention his name. Still, her admiration for him hadn’t waned in the slightest. To her, he embodied a unique mix of practicality and strength—someone who worked in the shadows yet always got the job done.

She sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, the familiar ache in her stomach starting to gnaw at her again. It wasn’t hunger in the traditional sense, and she knew better than to hope for relief from anything she could find in the kitchen. It had been three long years since the attack that had upended her life and rewritten the rules she now lived by.

Gone were the days when she could savor her favorite meals. Food had become a cruel joke, her body rejecting everything it once loved. It hadn’t taken long for her to figure out what she needed to survive now, and the knowledge filled her with a sense of horror and guilt that never entirely went away. She kept it a secret from everyone, including her pops. The world thought she was just another quirkless kid trying to make her way, and she let them believe it. It was easier that way.

“Y/N!” her pops called from somewhere down the hall, his warm voice breaking her out of her thoughts.

She glanced toward the sound, her brow furrowing slightly. “Coming!” she called back, reaching for the remote to mute the television. Standing up, she smoothed down her clothes, brushing off invisible lint in a nervous habit. The ache in her stomach intensified, but she pushed it down, burying it under years of practiced restraint.

She walked down the hallway, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor, and stopped in the doorway to the room where her pops stood. He was near the front door, his steady, fatherly presence as reassuring as ever. His smile was warm, and it softened the sharpness of his features. But it wasn’t just him in the room. Standing beside him was a boy—tall and lanky, with a rigid posture and an expression that screamed indifference.

“Y/N,” her pops said, motioning her over. “This is Kai Chisaki. He’ll be staying with us from now on.”

Y/N blinked, her gaze flicking to the boy. His dark golden-brown eyes avoided hers at first, focused instead on some invisible spot on the floor. There was a coldness to his demeanor, a distance that made him seem much older than his fifteen or so years. He didn’t look particularly happy to be here, and truthfully, Y/N wasn’t thrilled at the idea of sharing her home with a stranger. Still, she managed a polite smile.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice light and friendly. “I’m Y/N.”

Kai finally looked at her, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest of moments. His expression was unreadable, but he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Kai,” he said curtly.

Her pops clapped his hands together, breaking the awkward silence. “I expect you two to get along,” he said warmly. “Kai has been through a lot, just like you, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll find common ground.” His words were gentle but carried a weight that made Y/N’s chest tighten. She knew exactly what he was referencing—the kindness he had shown her three years ago, the way he had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go.

Y/N nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure how to connect with someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with her. “I can show him around the house,” she offered hesitantly.

Her pops beamed at her. “That’s a great idea. Thank you, Y/N.” Turning to Kai, he added, “You’re in good hands. Y/N’s been here a while now. She’ll help you settle in.”

Kai’s gaze shifted back to Y/N, his expression as neutral as ever. After a moment, he gave another small nod. “Okay.”

Taking that as a sign to proceed, Y/N gestured for him to follow her. They walked through the house, her voice filling the silence with explanations about where everything was. She showed him the kitchen, the spare bedrooms, and the backyard, pausing occasionally to give him a chance to respond. But Kai remained quiet, offering only brief answers or nods of acknowledgment. He kept his hands in his pockets the entire time, his stiff posture never relaxing.

Y/N didn’t press him. She understood what it was like to feel out of place, to carry the weight of loss and uncertainty. When she had first arrived, she’d been just as guarded, just as unsure of her footing in a world that felt like it had been turned upside down.

Eventually, they returned to the living room, and Y/N paused near the couch, watching him carefully. “It’s not so bad here,” she said gently. “Pops is… he’s kind. He’ll take care of you.”

Kai’s eyes met hers, and for a split second, something flickered in his cold gaze—vulnerability, maybe, or a hint of hesitation. “I don’t need to be taken care of,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.

Y/N tilted her head, offering him a small, understanding smile. “That’s what I thought, too. But it’s okay to let someone help. Just… don’t push him away, okay?”

Kai didn’t respond, but his expression shifted ever so slightly, the walls he had built around himself faltering for just a moment. He turned his attention to the muted television, his brow furrowing slightly as he pointed to the screen. “Who’s that?” he asked.

Y/N’s face lit up, the tension in the room easing as excitement replaced her earlier apprehension. “That’s Eraserhead!” she said enthusiastically. “He’s my favorite hero. He’s the coolest. You’ll see.”

Kai raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, his skepticism clear. Still, he moved toward the couch and sat down, his posture as stiff as ever. Y/N followed, plopping down beside him and unmuting the television.

For a while, they sat in silence, the sounds of the news filling the room. Kai didn’t say much, but he didn’t leave, either. It wasn’t much, but for Y/N, it was a start—a small step toward something that could one day resemble trust. For now, that was enough.

A few weeks had passed since that night, and despite her best efforts to avoid him, Y/N couldn’t ignore Kai’s presence in the house. It had started subtly—footsteps in the hallway, the creak of floorboards when he moved from room to room—but over time, he became harder to overlook. Their shared space, once a sanctuary for her, now felt smaller, as though the walls themselves were conspiring to push them together. She kept her distance, careful not to provoke him, but it was impossible not to notice him. His presence lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and charged, and while Y/N had grown used to his silence, the tension was always there.

Her "pops" had made it clear that Kai wasn’t just a guest—he was family. Whether or not Kai shared that sentiment was another matter entirely. He barely spoke to her, his aloofness tinged with irritation that made her tread carefully. She didn’t need to ask why; his mistrust of quirks, especially his own, was well known. But even as she kept her distance, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of her. Did he resent her presence? Tolerate it? Or was she just another nuisance in his carefully controlled world?

Whatever the answer, Kai wasn’t one to share it, and their interactions remained minimal at best. Despite that, Y/N had begun to accept his existence as part of her daily life. He was there, a constant shadow in the periphery, and while she couldn’t say she liked him, there was a certain comfort in knowing he wasn’t going anywhere.

One evening, she found herself in the living room, her laptop balanced on her knees as she scrolled through news articles. It was late, the kind of quiet that felt fragile, like a glass about to shatter. Kai stood near the kitchen, his posture stiff as always, his back to her. Y/N moved carefully, trying not to make a sound as she stretched. But in her effort to avoid disturbing him, her elbow brushed against his side.

It was an innocent mistake, a fleeting moment of contact—but to Kai, it was anything but.

Y/N froze, her breath catching as his entire body went rigid. His reaction was immediate and visceral, his gloved hand shooting out before she could even process what was happening. In an instant, her arm was gone.

The sound was sickening—flesh tearing, bones disassembling with brutal efficiency. Blood sprayed across the floor, dark and vivid against the pale tiles, and Y/N’s severed arm lay in pieces at her feet. The pain was sharp, blinding, but she didn’t scream. She didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she sat back down, cradling her knees as the blood pooled around her. She stared at the mess, her expression eerily calm. The tingling had already begun, warmth spreading through her body as her cells worked to heal the damage.

Kai’s breath hitched, his wide eyes darting between her and the gruesome sight on the floor. “I—I didn’t mean to!” he stammered, his voice strained with panic. “What the hell… Y/N, your arm—!”

“It’s fine,” she said softly, her tone steady despite the chaos. “I’m used to it. This isn’t the first time.” Her gaze lifted to meet his, her expression detached but not unkind. “I’ve been with pops long enough to know how this goes. It doesn’t freak me out.”

Kai stared at her, his disbelief palpable. His quirk, Overhaul, was a weapon—a tool of precision and destruction. He used it to disassemble and reassemble with ease, but always on his terms, always in control. Yet here she was, sitting in a pool of her own blood, unbothered. Her serenity unsettled him.

Y/N managed a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You should know, Kai. I’m quirkless. The world’s not kind to people like me. So if you’re thinking I’ll panic over something like this… I won’t.”

His expression hardened, his hands twitching as he looked at the remains of her arm. For a moment, she thought he might leave—walk away and let her sort herself out. But then his hands moved, almost of their own accord. Slowly, methodically, he crouched down and began the process of putting her arm back together.

The air around them crackled with the energy of his quirk. Pieces of her dismembered arm floated upward, reassembling with mechanical precision. The sound of bones fusing and flesh knitting filled the room, and Y/N watched in silence, her heartbeat steady. She flexed her fingers as her arm became whole again, the warmth of the process fading as the last piece fell into place.

Kai straightened, his posture as stiff as ever, his expression unreadable. He didn’t meet her gaze, his hands clenched at his sides as if touching her had burned him.

“Are you satisfied now?” Y/N asked quietly. Her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge of sadness beneath it. “You didn’t want to fix it, did you? Didn’t want to touch me. Didn’t want to put me back together.”

His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t respond immediately, but the discomfort on his face was answer enough. Kai’s quirk had always been a means of control, a way to impose order on chaos. Using it to help—especially someone like her—was foreign, unnatural. And yet, he had done it.

“You’re not like them,” he muttered at last, his voice rough. “You’re not a rat.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his words. She didn’t know what to say. In Kai’s world, quirks were taints, and those who wielded them were lesser. But she was quirkless, an anomaly in his carefully constructed worldview.

“I’m just… me,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “I don’t need anything from you, Kai. I’m just here, surviving. Just like you.”

He stared at her, his brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. There was no judgment in her tone, no pity—just an understanding that unnerved him. Without another word, Kai turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards.

Y/N let out a slow breath, glancing at the bloodstained tiles. The room felt impossibly quiet now, the tension lingering like smoke after a fire. She flexed her fingers again, marveling at how easily her arm had been restored.

The world wasn’t kind to people like her, but it hadn’t been kind to Kai either. Maybe that’s why, despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him.

The night air was sharp and cold, biting at Y/N’s skin as she wrapped herself in her dark cloak. She moved with practiced precision, slipping out of her bedroom window with the ease of someone who had done this countless times. The house was still, Pops and Kai both deep in sleep. They didn’t need to know where she went on nights like this, nor would they understand.

Her bare feet padded silently against the pavement, her heart steady as she made her way through the quiet streets. She stuck to the shadows, avoiding the occasional flicker of a streetlamp or the drunken stagger of a passerby. Her path was clear—she was heading to the outskirts, to the place where she could feed.

The hunger had become unbearable in recent weeks, a constant gnawing in her gut that refused to be ignored. It was no longer something she could suppress or deny. She had tried to starve it away, to cling to her humanity, but the world was unforgiving. Her survival depended on giving in to the primal need that burned inside her.

She soon reached the slums, a familiar and desolate part of the city where the forgotten were left to rot. This was where she hunted, where the world’s castaways became her lifeline. She navigated the narrow, trash-littered alleys with ease, her sharp eyes scanning for her prey. Tonight, she was lucky.

The body lay crumpled in the shadows, illuminated faintly by a broken streetlamp. It was a man, his pale face turned toward the sky, his expression vacant. A small pile of pills lay spilled beside him, the remnants of his final act. Y/N crouched over the corpse, her gaze cold and calculating. No hesitation, no guilt.

Her fingers moved with steady purpose as she opened the man’s shirt, revealing his lifeless torso. She could feel the hunger sharpening inside her as she worked, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air. The organs came out cleanly—heart, liver, kidneys—all wrapped carefully in the cloth she had brought. She ignored the blood that smeared her hands, the dark stains that seeped into her clothes. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Once her task was done, Y/N stood and took a step back, her bundle secured under her arm. She cast one last glance at the body before turning away, leaving it where it had fallen. She didn’t linger. There was no point. Survival didn’t allow room for remorse.

As she made her way back, the cold pavement pressing against her feet, a strange unease began to creep into her chest. It was subtle at first—a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing, the darkness of the slums as empty as ever. Still, her instincts told her she wasn’t alone.

Her pace quickened, her heartbeat steady but ready for a fight. She couldn’t afford to be careless. Not now, not with the organs she carried, her lifeline wrapped in cloth. The hunger still lingered, its edge dulled but not satisfied, urging her to keep moving.

Then she heard it—a soft shuffle of footsteps, just barely audible over the silence. Someone was following her. She kept her stride even, resisting the urge to look again. Whoever it was, they were close. Too close. She tightened her grip on the bundle, her mind racing. Had someone seen her? Had she been sloppy? Or was this just bad luck?

She took a sharp turn into a narrow alley, her movements fluid and calculated. The air here was heavier, the stench of decay stronger. She knew this part of the slums well, knew how to navigate its labyrinthine paths. If she could just shake her pursuer, she could make it back to Pops’ house unnoticed.

But the footsteps persisted, growing louder. Her pulse quickened as she glanced back, just for a moment. That’s when she saw it—a flash of silvery-blue hair, catching the faint light of the moon. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening. Whoever it was, they weren’t just any vagrant or drunkard wandering the slums. They were deliberate, purposeful.

Panic threatened to creep in, but she shoved it down. She had faced worse than this. She wouldn’t let herself be caught. Not tonight.

She broke into a sprint, her bare feet silent against the ground as she wove through the alleys. The bundle of organs pressed tightly against her chest, her lifeline to survival. The hunger still gnawed at her, urging her to stop and consume, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

The figure behind her was fast, their movements calculated, almost too controlled for someone who didn’t know these streets. Y/N’s mind raced. Whoever this was, they weren’t just following her on a whim. They knew. They had seen her, and now they were chasing her.

She darted around another corner, her breath coming in sharp bursts. She needed to lose them, needed to disappear into the shadows as she always had. The silvery-blue hair flashed again in her periphery, closer this time. Her stomach twisted, not from fear, but from the growing certainty that this wasn’t over.

Finally, she reached a dead end. Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape. There—a fire escape ladder hung just within reach. She jumped, her fingers gripping the cold metal as she hoisted herself up. She climbed quickly, her body moving on pure instinct. Below, the footsteps stopped, the figure standing still at the base of the wall. She didn’t look down, didn’t dare acknowledge the presence below her.

When she reached the rooftop, she collapsed onto her knees, clutching the bundle of organs tightly. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, her mind racing. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the figure, but that flash of silvery-blue hair lingered in her thoughts. It was hauntingly familiar, though she couldn’t place why.

As she sat there, staring out at the city lights in the distance, a single thought pushed its way to the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. Survival was all that mattered now. She would endure this hunger, this curse.

The first light of dawn crept into Y/N’s room, the faint orange glow spilling through the small gap in her curtains. She slipped quietly through the window, her bare feet touching the wooden floor with practiced silence. Her body ached from the long, grueling walk, and the faint, lingering burn of adrenaline from being pursued had yet to fade. The person following her had been persistent, forcing her to spend hours weaving through dark alleys, doubling back, and listening intently for the slightest sound of footsteps behind her.

Now, at last, she was home.

The room was just as she had left it: small, quiet, and dimly lit by the sliver of rising sunlight. The faint hum of the mini-fridge in the corner welcomed her, a sound that had grown to feel oddly comforting in her chaotic life. Carefully, Y/N unwrapped the bloodstained bundle she carried, her fingers moving delicately to avoid leaving a mess. Inside lay her spoils—the organs she had taken earlier, still fresh and glistening. She placed them in the fridge, organizing them in a way that would keep them hidden behind the ordinary food stored there.

She closed the fridge door slowly, her fingers lingering on the cool surface as her mind raced. She hadn’t been caught. That was all that mattered. Her secret, her survival—both were safe, for now.

Still, her heart was pounding, and the unease from the night’s chase lingered, gnawing at her thoughts. She leaned against her desk, letting out a deep, shaky exhale. The silence of the room wrapped around her like a cocoon, offering a brief moment of solace. But that solace was fleeting. The reality of her situation was quick to sink back in, heavy and unavoidable.

Her gaze flicked to the clock on her desk. The glowing red numbers warned her that time was slipping away. She had only a couple of hours before school. She needed to shower and prepare before anyone in the house woke up. Pops—no, Boss—and Kai couldn’t know about her nighttime activities. They thought she was normal, just another one of Boss’s kids trying to survive in a harsh world. They had no idea what she truly was, what she was becoming.

With a grimace, Y/N stripped off her clothes, wincing as she noticed the dark, rusty bloodstains that streaked the fabric. The sight didn’t faze her anymore. Blood was simply part of her reality, a byproduct of the life she had no choice but to lead. She tossed the clothes into the corner of her room, a mental note forming to deal with them later. For now, she needed to clean herself up.

The bathroom was cold and quiet, the tiles cool beneath her feet as she stepped into the shower. She turned the knob, and warm water streamed down, enveloping her in a comforting heat. For a brief moment, she let herself relax, her head resting against the tiled wall as the water cascaded over her. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, but her mind refused to quiet.

She had been so close to being caught. The memory of those footsteps behind her, the flash of silvery-blue hair she had seen when glancing back—it was seared into her thoughts. Who had it been? And why were they following her? The questions churned in her head, unanswered and maddening. If they knew what she had done, what she had taken, they might come after her again. Or worse, they might tell someone. She couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not ever.

Y/N grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed her skin vigorously, washing away the blood and grime from her nighttime excursion. The crimson streaks swirled down the drain, disappearing as if they had never existed. She worked methodically, cleaning every inch of herself, as though scrubbing away the evidence could also erase the guilt. Not that she felt guilt anymore—not really. She had stopped hesitating a long time ago. Survival didn’t allow for guilt, didn’t permit second thoughts or regret.

When she finished, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around herself. She caught sight of her reflection in the fogged-up mirror, her tired eyes staring back at her. For a moment, she felt the weight of it all—the hunger that never truly went away, the constant fear of being found out, the burden of living with a secret so dark it could never see the light of day. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside. There was no room for doubt. This was her life now.

Quickly, Y/N dried herself off and dressed in her school uniform. The crisp fabric felt foreign against her freshly cleaned skin, but the routine was grounding. It was normalcy in the midst of chaos, a mask she had perfected over the years. She ran a comb through her hair, fixing it neatly before glancing at the clock again. She still had time.

Her eyes drifted to the mini-fridge, where the organs sat, hidden and waiting. Her stomach growled faintly, a reminder of the hunger that never truly left her. But she couldn’t eat yet. Not here. Not now. Instead, she tucked the hunger away, like she did everything else. She would eat when the time was right, when no one could see her. No one had to know.

With one last deep breath, Y/N opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The house was still quiet, the early morning light filtering through the windows. Pops and Kai were still asleep, their soft snores faintly audible from their respective rooms. She moved quietly, her footsteps light against the floorboards, careful not to disturb them.

As she descended the stairs, her thoughts wandered back to the silvery-blue hair she had seen the night before. It had been so brief, just a glimpse, but it had been enough to unsettle her. There was something almost familiar about it, though she couldn’t quite place why. Whoever it was, they had been fast and deliberate, too skilled to be just another bystander. She didn’t know what they wanted or if they would come back, but she knew she had to stay alert.

Y/N entered the kitchen. The city was waking up now, the streets below coming to life with the sounds of distant traffic and early risers. She watched the world move on as if everything was normal, as if she wasn’t living a double life, balancing on the edge of a knife.

For a brief moment, her thoughts shifted to Shota Aizawa, the man who had saved her once, long ago. He had shown her kindness in a world that had only ever been cruel, and she had never forgotten him. She didn’t know if he even remembered her, but she held onto the memory of him like a lifeline. It was part of what kept her going, what gave her the strength to endure. She would survive, no matter what it took, because one day, she would see him again.

Y/N straightened her posture and prepared herself for the day ahead. Another day of pretending, of playing the part of the normal, quiet girl who fit seamlessly into her surroundings. Another day of hiding the truth. It was exhausting, but it was necessary.

As the sun rose higher, casting its warm light across the city, Y/N pushed aside the lingering unease from the night before. She would move forward, as she always did, because survival demanded nothing less.

The morning sun had barely crept over the horizon, casting its pale light through the kitchen window, as Y/N sat hunched over her laptop, her fingers scrolling absently across the touchpad. The hum of the quiet house was punctuated by the faint clinking of a mug being set down in front of her. She blinked and looked up to see Kai standing there, his sharp gaze distant but calculating as always.

“Drink,” he said flatly before turning back toward the counter, leaving her with the steaming cup of coffee.

Y/N stared at it for a moment. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more—the fact that Kai had bothered to make her anything or the fact that she was tempted to try it. Food and drink had long since become meaningless to her. Nothing tasted right anymore; everything human tasted like dirt or ash, leaving her hollow and frustrated whenever she tried to eat. Her body no longer needed sustenance, yet the absence of taste, the alien rejection of something so fundamental, was a reminder of what she had become.

But this was different. Something about the smell—the rich, bitter aroma—caught her off guard. She had never tried coffee before. It had always seemed unappealing, just another thing that would disappoint her senses. Yet now, with the mug in front of her, curiosity tugged at her. Hesitant, she wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic, lifting it to her lips.

The first sip was tentative. The heat hit her tongue first, followed by the smooth bitterness of the brew. She paused, her eyes widening slightly. It didn’t taste bad. It didn’t taste like dirt, or ash, or anything her body would immediately reject. In fact… it tasted good. The richness of the coffee settled in her mouth, the faint bitter edge surprisingly pleasant. It was a revelation, and she found herself taking another sip, slower this time, savoring the sensation.

Kai returned to his spot at the counter, leaning against it with his own mug in hand. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his face unreadable. She knew better than to assume this was an act of kindness—Kai didn’t do kindness. But whatever his reasoning, she found herself grateful for the small gesture.

The laptop screen in front of her displayed an article about the latest hero activity. Y/N had been keeping tabs on them for months, though not out of any general fascination with heroes. Most of them, with their bright costumes and hollow slogans, held no appeal for her. But there was one exception: Eraserhead. Something about him had drawn her in from the first time she saw him. He wasn’t like the others. There was no theatrics, no grandstanding. He was quiet, efficient, and unwavering. He got the job done without needing applause or recognition.

She admired that. She admired him.

As she took another sip of coffee, the rich warmth spreading through her, Kai’s voice cut through the quiet kitchen. “You spend too much time obsessing over them,” he said, his tone cold but laced with irritation. “Heroes. They’re no different from the villains they claim to fight.”

Y/N didn’t look up from her screen. She had heard this argument from him countless times before. Kai’s disdain for Quirks, heroes, villains—anyone who perpetuated what he called a diseased system—was a cornerstone of his worldview. She didn’t share his cynicism, but she had learned to pick her battles.

“I don’t care about heroes,” she said calmly, her eyes still scanning the article. “I care about Eraserhead.”

Kai’s lips curled in a faint sneer. “Eraserhead,” he repeated mockingly. “You’re obsessed with him. Why? He’s just another cog in the machine.”

This time, Y/N looked up, her gaze steady as it met his. “He’s not like the others,” she said simply. “He doesn’t play their games. He does his job, and he doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not.”

Kai scoffed, setting his mug down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “And you think that makes him special? He’s still part of the problem. Just another mask for a corrupt system.”

Y/N set her mug down carefully, her fingers lingering on the warm ceramic. For a moment, she debated whether to respond. Kai’s worldview was rigid, unyielding, and arguing with him rarely led anywhere. But something about his dismissal of Eraserhead, of what she saw in him, struck a nerve.

“I’m not idolizing him,” she said softly, her voice calm but firm. “I know the world is broken. I know what I am. But he’s different. He doesn’t care about fame or recognition. He just does what needs to be done. And that’s real. That’s something worth admiring.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. For a moment, the tension in the room felt like it might snap. But then he exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re deluding yourself,” he muttered. “Clinging to the idea that there’s something pure in all this mess. It’s pathetic.”

Y/N didn’t flinch at his words. She had grown used to Kai’s harshness, his blunt dismissal of anything he deemed weak or foolish. But she didn’t back down, either. “Maybe,” she said quietly. “But I’d rather believe in something, even if it’s flawed, than give up completely.”

Kai didn’t respond immediately. He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he picked up his mug and turned away. “Do what you want,” he said over his shoulder. “Just don’t expect me to care.”

Y/N watched him go, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. She picked up her mug again, taking another sip of the coffee. The warmth of it grounded her, its taste a small comfort in a world that often felt alien and unforgiving.

This was the first thing—*the only thing*—that didn’t taste like a reminder of what she had lost. It was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a victory. For the first time in what felt like forever, she had found something that felt… normal.

As she turned back to her laptop, her thoughts lingered on Eraserhead. On the way he moved through the world, unbothered by the noise and chaos that surrounded him. Maybe Kai was right. Maybe she was clinging to something foolish, something that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But she didn’t care.

In a life that often felt like a series of compromises and secrets, this was hers. A quiet admiration, a belief in someone who didn’t need to be perfect to be worth believing in.

She took another sip of coffee, savoring the taste. For now, it was enough.

#yandere #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #mha x reader #mha #yandere my hero academia

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