#it is. almost always jeanist

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Powerloader appreciation post?

I’m mad that I missed his birthday, especially him being my current number 1 favourite character in the rotation of blorbos in my brain-

So here. Have a few unfinished/yet-to-be-posted doodles of various of my AU designs that i haven't released for the bestest dirt gremlin man <333

(In order of drawings, the aus that they're from: pirate au, roleswap au, forest keepers au, real nightmares au, radioactive au, unnamed time traveller au, submerged secrets au)

[irisintheafterglow]

blood moonlit, must be counterfeit

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)

wc: 1.68k

cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”

“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”

“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”

“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 

The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 

“Who’d you come to the party with?”

“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”

“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.

“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 

“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”

“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”

“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”

“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”

“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.

“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 

“What about him?”

“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 

“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”

“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.

“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 

“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”

“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 

Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 

“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“See what, gorgeous?”

“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.

Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 

“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”

“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”

“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 

“If someone messes with us?”

“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[court-jobi]

Tuning Out, Tuning In

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters or this art))

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!pro hero, some afab pronouns used)

Words: 5.1K

Rating: T+ (language, bc obviously)

Warnings: Pro-Hero Bakugo/Pro-Hero Reader, cursing as a love language, insecurities, arguing, use of hearing aids (not an expert!), light hurt/comfort, she falls first-he falls harder

Summary:

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. He's still not hearing you- because he can't.  You check on your Katsuki after an unannounced leave of absence, only to discover the true reason why is the source of a mighty insecurity of his that he's expertly kept you out of the loop of till now. He's defensive and mean- uncharacteristically so, towards you when you find out. It's heart-wrenching when he realizes he's snapped at you, and gutting when you love him through it.

A/N: *Can be read as a follow-up in the 'Backpack Privileges' universe, but not necessarily a series. Just how I envision these babies evolving~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

News from the girls at the scheduling counter is  that Dynamight was actually putting in PTO for the first time this calendar year.

Sure he’s worked hard, but when doesn’t he? It wasn't like he expended so much energy from his last rescue call that he was too tired or anything when you’d last seen him… so the time off request surprised you. Katsuki Bakugou never took time off, even when he’s congested to the point of sounding like a wounded seagull and hacking up a lung.

You called to check on him the first day he was out, but it went unanswered; he texted back instead that he was in the middle of eating and asked what you needed. You told him to rest up, and he proceeded to spam you with the same angry animal memes as always. 

At the office, things were at a surprising lull by the end of the week, with Kirishima on your right on the sofa scrolling through some mods Hatsume had for him to review. Meanwhile, you took the rather unprofessional route and scrolled on your phone. Your retort to Kiri’s tutting over the bad habit was that you knew the higher ups were off with Jeanist at some press junket, and you could risk it. Called you a naughty thing, how Bakugou was rubbing off on you. You’re sure even at your hangriest you’re not that prickly. 

An instinct, you try calling Bakugou again, this time on speakerphone. It’s been a whole workweek, after all. It rings twice, then straight to voicemail. You end the call before recording anything, and fuss at the phone in your hand. 

“Ok, Kiri? This is weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

“He’s never answering,” you lock the phone habitually, “-and I mean never. No ‘hi’, no ‘whaddya want’; did he lose his voice or something?”

Kirishima finally breaks focus to look at you, questioning, “Bakubro?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t– not that I’m trying every day or anything, but it’s been almost a week of nothing and-” 

-your phone dings: one new preview of a message from ‘Backpack’ lights your lockscreen, and your frustration ramps up to 60.

“-Then he freakin’ texts– like two seconds later!! What the actual hell is going on with him?!”

Kirishima just snorts.

“Maybe he’s taking a dump~”

“He would not text me on the toilet.”

“All men do it.”

“KIRI.” you swat his foot off the couch that’s laid out towards you, crossing yours while he cackles behind his ipad’s screen.

“Oh cmon, he’s fine! He’s just taking a breather~” Kirishima presses you with an assuring look you’re inclined to buy, because his delivery is just that sweet, “Doesn’t really take time off much anymore, so if he did, he probably needs it. Been doing a lot of those muscle contracts, which pays well! But it’s no joke how much it takes out of you– Kamui wants him, Rocklock wants him-”

You do worry about the workload Bakugou is  under given all the names Kirishima rattles off, but your boy’s assured you it’s all part of his drive. That, and he says Bakugou’s saving up for something important for work, but doesn’t disclose more than that.

You don’t press when Bakugou puts up a wall– knowing full well he tells you things when he’s ready.  Till now, he’s not given an indication that he doesn't distrust you with anything- not even his life. You have each other’s backs, and that’s an honor that you value and reciprocate. Perhaps it’s by that faith in one another that you should grant him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe one of these days under another starry sky from the back of your bike, he may share his whats and hows and whys to that sweet spot behind your ear, disguising his secrets with yet another kiss he saves for when you’re alone.

But this silence is really throwing you a curveball. Katsuki’s voice is just one of the many things you’ve come to adore about him. When you confessed that little thought to him, he turned a soft answer -a promise- that he’d answer when you called, day or night. It’s a gruff, punchy sound when you hear it over coms, or even through your shared helmets; but it’s also rumbling, constant, soothing when you hear it fitted against your ear. 

You never thought you’d even miss Dynamight’s passive aggressive screaming so much– until you don’t have any echo of him in your head at all.

“-or yknow if it’s not his schedule, it’s his body that’s about to quit on him. He’s probably giving his ears a break, if I had to guess!”

“...His ears.”

Kirishima looks up at you again, like his point was obvious, “Yeah. He can’t wear ‘em all the time– they’ve gotta charge, and if he’s sweat them out of their normal place, they pinch-”

Realization forces you to sit up straight, “Katsuki wears hearing aids?”

“Well he has to, with his quirk!” Kirishima tickled himself explaining so, “Kats probably blew out his inner ear in middle school, and it’s only gotten worse the harder he’s trained. He got fitted for new ones sometime last winter which he says are more comfortable than the last ones, but I dunno-” Kirishima cracked his neck in a roll, “I think he keeps' em in too long; and they drive him batty after a while.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. 

Down at your phone, you read the text message fully:

Backpack: Knee deep in dishes. What’s up pretty girl.

You decide to answer,

//Waiting on a call for a pickup, just keeping the couch warm~  Up for a call real quick?

‘Backpack’ takes a minute this time. You reason maybe he’s using speech to text given the perfect grammar.

Backpack: Can’t right now.

// Podcast instead? ((eyes emoji))

Backpack: Pass.

//Kiri misses you… ((sad eyes))

Backpack: No he fucking doesn’t. 

Backpack: Throw him a bone or try some fetch, he’ll be fine.

You don’t even laugh at the image with how much he’s deflecting talking to you. Laying back, your concern must be palpable because Kiri nudges you with his foot, and you stare at its buckles; anything from looking at his face.

“He never turns down food.”

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean, he’ll need to eat~” Kirishima’s never ending support coats his words. “-and I’d be shocked if he’d  turn his Darling DoorDasher down.”

You snorted, “Hush, you.”

Kirishima knew full well about you two- he’s not blind. He knows about dates one, two, well- every date, whether from Bakubro's lips or your own. But while it doesn’t feel new and raw… it feels tender and personal, what you share with your hero off the field– and you don’t want the bubble to burst between you and Katsuki. Not just yet.

-which is why, despite your firm concern deep in your gut reminding you of your plans throughout your shift,  you are nervous for your first time going to his apartment, unannounced. 

You knock four times, then back away to the near side of the door so it doesn’t hit you when it opens. A lull of ‘nothing’ hung in the air.. 

You reconsidered,  suspicion making you  bite your cheek: what if he can’t hear you?

You knock four more times, a bit louder. You’re cringing as you come back to your lean. Shuffling, you do indeed look like a food delivery service- an insistent-looking one, to the couple passing by on the ground floor who look up at you and likely wonder why you don’t just call this a ‘contactless delivery’ and jog on.. 

“Cmon, Kats…” you bemoan before steeling your nerves. You try just three more times, channeling your inner ‘Dynamight’ yourself and banging at a level that would take it off its hinges before cringing away to your waiting spot. 

Bakugou’s neighbor pops his head out of the door opposite you this time– nailing you with a reproachful look. Apologies mouthed, you smile demurely as the sound of a very aware Bakugou approaches now.

“I’M COMING, DAMMIT!”

The neighbor -perhaps wisely- shuts his door as he hears the door about to be unlocked. The way his eyebrows fly up, you infer that he does little to ever cross his hotheaded neighbor.

“ALRIGHT ALREADY- WHAT?!”

He's gorgeous, still. Pissy and caught off his guard, and donned headphones around his neck. But Bakugou double-takes to you with a frozen mouth, watching you push off the siding seemingly unaffected by his outburst and smiling casually.

“Hiya~”

His jaw flexes, but he forces his snarl away. Clearly conflicted at your presence, he pinched his brow.

"Said you were workin’ today. What’re you doing."

"I was in the neighborhood. Brought you a bowl~" you bribed the man's heart with the top way you knew how: a white and red ‘thank you’-covered baggie with the jackpot inside..

He likes kamameshi so he doesn’t hafta chew a ton. If his ear n’ jaw are tired, the softer the better. You can't go wrong with a nice bowl o’comfort…  Not like it’d last long with that guy’s appetite on a good day, anyways! Hah!

Hardly one to refuse you (just as Kirishima lovingly predicted), Bakugou stepped aside to let you in, granting you a gentle stroke on your back as you passed him..

Inside, you trade giving him the bag with his offering of your choice in houseshoes. On the far side of the room, the TV is on, including a scroll of subtitles. You look about and the place is spotless- he wasn’t lying about the rage cleaning.

"In the neighborhood, huh?" Bakugou called to you, dishing out the box of takeout while watching you get settled in.

You already said so, but made sure to face him as you speak- eyes all on you. You think that making a sweet delivery is reason enough for your presence here,

"Yeah~ the office drew a short straw on the menu this week, so I’ve been eating out more~ still don’t know how you can mess up potatoes, but sure enough, Feefee’s found a way~" you smile, coming up to his side with a little lilt in your step.

-but Bakugou just drones back,

"Overdue on our lunches, aren’t we sweets. We'll go do something this weekend."

Oh boy. You’re really bad off. A diss at the agency kitchen staff would never go unnoticed by the resident lunch snob, you think to yourself. You may not have lightning fast quips like Kaminari, but c'mon, that was a little funny…

Any other time that Bakugou would willingly suggest a date would thrill you. Maybe he’s even aware that he’s been avoiding you, and is trying to make up for it by suggesting a couple places offhand. But knowing the real reason behind the aversion, it doesn’t warm you the way it always does. 

His answer was typical and wasn't really related to what you asked at all, so you watch him take some bites and try again.

You trailed over to his dining kitchenette, taking a seat before him, tone lovely and appropriate for the distance between you. 

“You should have seen Kiri’s attempt to make my coffee order. Almost put a pump of salmon oil in instead of simple syrup! But hey, that just means job security for you, yeah? You’re so much better at it.”

You make eyes at the tv behind you as you speak- a test. 

He catches your intentional look, but he twists in his seat to glance. Then, focuses back on you and not making a mess of his dish, “Yeah, you can change it if you want.”

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. Still not hearing. 

You try once more, sass tinting your voice as if you were teasing him privately.

"We adopted a purple hippo as an office pet~"

"Mhm," Bakugou picked up on the attitude, pausing and coming to your side with a bit of a swagger he hopes looks natural, "Sure been a crazy week. Missed a lot. We’ll get back to normal soon, yeah? Cmon, let's go watch somethin’."

Your hands fall to your thighs in a resigned slap. Sighing, you look to him desperately, urging him with more enunciation. 

"This is bad, Katsuki."

"What's so bad." Bakugou reads your lips and deflects.

You tap your ear with a sympathetic look.

– his demeanor changes. Horribly.

Bakugou steps away in almost disbelief, edgy and firm: a rolling boil starts to simmer behind his eyes. Turning aside, he huffs. Guilty. 

He turns tail to the kitchen, cursing under his breath to ‘give him a second.’ Bakugou pushes his stacks of cleaned dishes aside, making a clash of noise even you flinch at. It’s evident the sound doesn’t phase him. 

"No, you don't have to put them-"

"I can't fucking HEAR YOU, woman; give me a DAMN SECOND!!"

Coming around the island after him, you see he’s trying to get at the charging dock on the backside of his butcher block.

Watching him fiddle with just his right ear, he turns back and faces you prickly as ever, with arms crossed and barely attempting to rein in his anger.

You are sure now you've struck a nerve if he's acting like this around you. You tread carefully,

"I'm not here to just yap your head off, or commandeer your days off. I… was just concerned."

"About what? I'm fine."

"It's been five days,” you stress gently, “you didn't think I would think it’s weird if you didn’t answer once?"

"I answered you back every time," Bakugou raised his voice a tick, "Every text– never left you on read, cuz I know that feels shitty!"

"I know you did," you give him credit, "But it's– different when we talk, and you know that difference. It's just that you always call back. It just hasn’t felt normal -for you- is all. And I didn’t know there was going to be a reason like this that’s why."

"Well it's not like I could hear the phone ring anyway, so fuck me for that. How the hell’d you find out anyway."

"...I didn't know until Kirishima said something. I was telling him I-"

"Of course it fucking was,” Bakugou huffed again, “Well, it's none of his business, it’s not his problem, and he should kept his DAMN mouth shut."

To trash Kirishima like this -hotheaded and bitter- definitely feels more like an attack than he'd ever mean on a good day. Kiri is his best friend, and clearly close enough to have been there at the first fitting and have a picture perfect memory of it because it mattered so much to his buddy to be there for him. To not let it define him.

You can't pretend to know how sensitive of a subject this is, based on how confident Bakugou is with everything in life: even the litany of scars he wears outlining his hero work aren't off limits to discussion. But his answers come armed with cached ammo and heat.

You certainly don't think yourself entitled to everything about him, but you see now that he clearly hadn’t planned to tell you about his wearing hearing aids, or at least hadn’t intended for you find out this way… so someone had to take the brunt of his ire. You think to be grateful he doesn’t appear ready to snap at you, but you feel so much on the outside, it hurts to watch him sizzle. 

You try to take the pressure off the leak of the news, "Where's this coming from, hon?"

Bakugou grunts, looking back to you with a raised brow. 

You gestured between you just to talk with your hands a little, "Where  is  this  coming-"

"HELL IF I KNOW!” Bakugou shouts back, “It just IS. I just wanted- it-- Look, just fuckin’ drop it, ok? I will. be back. tomorrow. And everything’ll be like it was before you knew a damn thing, ALRIGHT??"

He's defensive and mean now; the pitch he never aimed at you before now entered the ring.

This was a line you were damned sure not to let any man cross.

"Ok, we're gonna try that again,” you spoke plain as day.

"Try WHAT again??"

"Discussing, not fighting." You stood firm at his counter. You will not be taking up a screaming match under any circumstances, and have to make that clear. "Coming up with an answer -together- because that's what we do when our backs are up against the wall... Not bite the hand that's trying to help. ‘Hit the problem, not the player’."

The words resonate with Bakugou, having been the one who shot that reminder to you not a week ago from his own mouth, and everything in that face full of fire wants to rear back– 

"-and before you say ANYTHING else... You will. not. talk to me like that."

You hear the hero’s palms sizzle, and see by the look of hatred he glares at them with that he clearly hates the feel. 

Bakugou lets out a growl then goes silent, obeying. He takes a little pace around, finally settling at the tall, bar-height stool, rubs his palms compulsively at his thighs as a reset, and pulls at his head until it lays dejected in those explosive hands propped up on his knees.

Your invitation to stand by him opens when he lifts his head and scowls behind tented fingers. Kindly, you make sure to stand closer to his right to give him the best chance of catching your words.

"Y'know I'm the last one who's ever gonna give you a hard time for this, don’t you?"

Bakugou doesn't answer, but you know he's listening.

"It's hard for me to take time off work too, I don't do it as much as I should. I know it's hard to leave work at work, and you did that on your own, in order to take care of yourself. You know your limits and that’s keeping you alive. That was really wise."

You see a little bob of the head by the slight jostle of his hair.

What bothers you here and now isn’t just selfish thoughts of ‘why didn’t he tell me’, but ‘why didn’t he tell anyone’? It’s clear by what you’ve learned that next to no one knows of his condition. That small aspect of this gives you a little comfort, but opens up a bigger dose of worry. Hearing impairment might be perceived by a bystander as a defect or weakness, but for the old friends and medical experts who surely surround him, you’d feel confident in Bakugou’s care to know he’d surely not think of himself that way. 

Surely not… surely not?

“But the thing is, if it's coming down to you hurting and needing help- or just, getting time away if that's what you really want, I can totally get that. But  between you and I? We've gotta figure out how you really feel about this, because it’s eating at you. Affects everything you do at some point, right? Can't have you working yourself to the bone here, overworking your senses out there, feeling like you can’t speak for days on end, setting things off, either. Even accidentally."

You swipe along his shoulder and arm sweetly, just for a little connection.

“I… I really do care about you, Katsuki. I don't want you to feel you have to manage it all on your own.  I want to be someone you can have in your back pocket for help- even with something like this.”

A ‘ride or die’ offer if there ever was one.

Bakugou looks in the direction of your hand. The smooth, unscarred hand you sport is so different from his own. Proof of the softness he lost a long time ago, his sunken eyes tell you. He blinks, and it’s a pensive, sad sight. 

 "M'sorry." 

The hoarseness in that proud voice fell hollow.

To anyone else, it may sound apathetic and half-assed, but Bakugou held so much ‘punch’ in his daily speech that you realized this apology featured the even breath of emotion. Restraint. His control. His gentleness.

“You can't help how your body works, Kats. You don't have to apologize for what's happening naturally. This is... just a side effect, unfortunately.”

“T’snot that,” he said limply.

A second attempt to finish for him, you try again studying the takeout boxes left open. “I.. get you not telling me, too. It’s not my business either.”

Bakugou shakes his head, with a dismissive jerk of the head altogether. Instead he lifts up, miserably.

"I don't talk to you that way."

Through a brief silent showdown, you accept his apology. As rough as he is even with his own mother, Bakugou has framed a different ring for you two to dance in, and harshness doesn’t belong in it.

"You don’t,” the agreement is established, “that's how I knew something's out of whack. Plus, I mean.. if you can’t pick up background noise, it must be hard trying to match volume in a space, right?"

Bakugou’s hoarseness fails him, falling to which air, "That's a shit poor excuse. You were right. I know the difference." 

Meekly reaching for hip, the man sniffles: pulling you the rest of the way between his bent legs. 

You step in and he crumbles into your core, strong hands encircling your hips. 

"I'm sorry," he swears.

"It's ok..."

Bakugou squeezes you in, "It's not. Ok. You should have slapped me for that shit.”

“I’m not doing that, either,” you get weary hearing how the guys rough each other up. You’re certainly not applying the same tactics to him of all people.

“Well, it’s inexcusable. I respect you more than to do that. Know better.”

"I forgive you, then."

"You shouldn't, so easily.”

Chin jutted on his still-bowed head, your answer comes simply but openly:

"...That's commonly called love, Katsuki. I love you. That’s what I do."

He's silent and frozen. The only sign of life is that he is -in fact- breathing still.

You said these, the magic words, in record time for anyone you've held affection for... and you didn't care. You loved Katsuki. Loved all of him. Even the prickly bits that threatened to square up at you like  a bull. 

Friendship was an surprisingly easy test for you two.

Partnership, battle-proven in the public sphere. 

But this is the final straw that you’ve been keeping safe and special. Telling Katsuki you loved him would push things to a deeper level than you felt the term ‘boyfriend’ afforded you both at thirty years old. In loving him, and no one else, you just wanted to call him ‘yours’ already and be done with searching for the One.

Since he doesn’t speak, you busy yourself elsewhere. He may not answer nearly as quickly as you given how on-the-spot he mulls in currently… but he hasn’t let go of you, which is a good sign. Good enough for you.

Your mind veers a bit in the quiet. You think to yourself about what feels nicest when you've had your helmet on too long; athletes deal with it, racers deal with it.. Anyone who wears a support item with internal padding giving cushion around the head is bound to force unnatural pressure on every angle for the sake of protection. 

On you, this tension lies just behind the ears. 

To soothe it, you’d usually draw a sun: a half circle design, zigzagging up and down with your fingertips, creating lines of relief along the tender sides of your head. It's to help the blood flow, and the scratches crackle nicely to the ear canal. Acts as white noise to the senses which is often a welcome change to the low thrum of a headache or grating road noise.

So with careful fingers, a mind set on comfort and a heartful of soft love for this man, you draw twin suns deep within Katsuki's hair.

…within seconds, he wept.

Bakugou softly cries and he holds you close. He turns in his seat, pulling you to fit even tighter between his knees with no gap of room between you.

When he can regulate his breaths down to calm blows from his lips, he shares more what's on his mind, down the space between you.

"...that feels really good."

"I hoped so~. So your head bothers you too, after a while. Having them in all the time?"

He turns his head finally to rest on one side, the functionally deaf side leaning into your chest... listening out for a heartbeat it seems.

“N’it’s all inside, so it’s hard to touch it unless I pump myself full of horsepills… makes m’stomach hurt."

From head to toe, he’s being honest about what this means for him. "The thing that’s meant to help, hurts? I’m sorry, hon."

He's still swallowing back his emotions, so you don't press for what he wants to say when it's clear he's focused on getting good rhythm back.

"My arm gets numb sometimes, too."

You're surprised at this, as more pieces fit together you didn’t know were necessarily missing, "-Yeah?"

"It's somethin' in the tendons. Can fight fine, but small moves are weird. I can't pick up a fucking piece of paper right. N'holding my phone hurts some days."

With a kiss to his hair, you see the teed-up ‘in’ to make him laugh,

"Well, who're you gonna be texting anyway, now that I won't be blowing up your phone?"

He tuffs. Joking aside, you hugged you close. “Gotta to back to that dumbass doctor, don't I."

"They can check your nerve endings with a scan. See if there's a reason for it."

Bakugou accepts this and continues his baring of his heart. He mentions old pains, some new ones, even some random details about which oscillating fans he likes on or off because of how warm he runs. Some of it relates to his work, some not, but you take it all in. Each little snippet he offers up reminds you of penguin pebbling. 

Satisfaction rang through you with the news that caused the biggest physical response in him: he confessed after all that he hadn’t wanted to ignore you at all, and it shows.

His hands massage at you– never getting enough.

“V’missed your voice too,” Bakugou’s voice finally seeps back in- that low, growly rumble of the chest you wanted to play on loop, “But I know I needed that break. I wanted 'em out, just for a little while. Even if I didn’t want to miss the good that comes from keepin’ em in.”

“That’s fine to want. Anytime you need.”

Bakugou turns exploratory with his hand. With the one not locked around your waist keeping you to him, he gives long scritches across your back, up front to hold your side- rooting him. 

“N’for the record, not everyone knows. It’s probably in a record somewhere, so it’s not really been taboo or anything. No one’s ever banned me from fighting; not yet at least. It’s not a secret. But… s’been so long, I’ve… never had to explain them to anyone. Sure as shit don't tell the public.”

Tender fingers seek out the soft inner side of your wrist, just a small touch.

“But you…I didn’t know how to open that up. Seems like a random ass thing to drop on you.”

You understand, and think it sweet that he at least had contemplated telling you at some point– but now, you could only look to his future and knew this would only help you moving forward.

"Nothing’s random if it’s important to you. So head scratches are a yes. Fast food is a yes, keeps you out of the stores. Anything else I should keep in mind to help?"

Bakugou thinks, but just holds onto you with a little nuzzle, "Not now. Yer doin’ it."

Happy and soft, you smile, "Okey~"

After a minute, he's matched your breathing, and you only move when he lifts his head to chin up at you from his spot. You smile expectantly seeing him less harsh around the edges and looking at you on the softer side of pitiful. Like he's looking to you for the solution-- neck bared and showing a rare vulnerability.

"You're my hero, Kats," you dote on him. Hands through his hair, scritching at the base, "y'know that right?"

"Damn right."

"And you aren't anywhere near throwing in the towel over this."

His smirk returned, "Damn right."

Bakugou’s neck received more soothing treatment again– making his eyes flutter, 

"Because my Lord Explosion has way too many baddies left to murder before he allows anyone get to his getaway driver, right?"

Finally showing signs of his spark back, Bakugou growls his pleasure. 

"Y'talking about murder does things to a man, baby."

"Thought it might... I mean every word though. You take such good care of me, Kats. Let me do the same for you sometimes, ok?"

"... Yeah alright," he finally caves easily with tepid palms smoothing over the back of your thighs. Still keeping you close, forehead falling to rest against you, you feel finally content that your presence has helped him. 

All your one-sided concerns now settled, you feel glad that your update to Kirishima later will share that Bakugou’s okay– and will likely add in a fair heads-up that he might still be pissy with him come Monday.

After some cursory scratches across his shoulders, you remember to hold out a hand by his eye level. Bakugou hums when he notices it, and raises his hand to hold yours-- only for you to dodge it, and keep it open.

Let me have it, silly.

After checking ‘what on earth you were getting at’, he tilts to see your fingers open again. The blond head of hair at your chest sighs, decides, then takes the lone hearing aid out and returns it into your open palm. With careful depositing, you set it on the counter behind you with the note-to-self to put it back with its mate– and return your hands to yours.

Bakugou centered himself by breathing you in. Once he had you snug in his arms again, he pressed a firm kiss through your shirt, hoping you felt everything he couldn’t say behind a tight throat. 

You thought it silly, but with him resting fairly tame right on your chest, you thought you'd try a little enrichment for him:

That stupid song from the pop-up takeaway truck was still stuck in your head, so you started humming it to him. 

With how high you stood above him doling out scritches to his temple, you missed how his eyes opened for a flash in recognition of today’s current brainrot love ballad; but you didn't miss how he pressed in closer to you and really listened.

[fictionalsownme]

"Touch" | season 6 ! keigo takami x reader | WIP BLURB

Hiya! So I've noticed recently that I almost never post my writing on here, even though I write all the time. I'm just so easily distracted I almost never finish things, but I thought I'd start sharing what I do have so some of these little bits can see the light of day hehe :) here's a bit a wrote about how hawks' and the reader's dynamic might shift after his burn and after his personality changes a bit!

disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!

Recently, Hawks— Keigo— had been touching you even more than normal.

You would say he’s finding excuses for physical contact, but there’s not even reasons most of the time.

It’d been about a week since you started riding around with him, Jeanist, and Endeavor. All Might, Deku, and some other pros were part of the efforts, too.

Being a civilian, you knew you brought them more risk than aide, but you weren’t totally useless. And now Hawks— now Keigo— insisted on you being by his side.

It’s not as if you and him had never touched before. In the year you’d known him and worked for him, the two of you had actually gotten really close. And when his name was revealed to the public, he asked you to start calling him that all the time.

No one else, just you. It was taking some getting used to.

It wasn’t long after that the touching started. The near constant physical contact.

A steady hand at your back seemed to be his favorite. But there were other motions too. Touching your arm, playing absently with the edge of your jacket, nudging his shoe with yours. Even just keeping you within arms length seemed to be a must.

Not that you didn’t like it. You definitely did. Each touch was so warm and protective, it made you lightheaded. And in these times… any comfort was a blessing.

You figured that’s why he’d been doing it. Just basic coping, nothing more. You understood. Before all this mess, before he’d been burned, you had always been the first to offer hugs and reassurances. You’d even held hands once or twice. Platonically, of course. But nothing like this.

It wasn’t just the physical nature of your relationship changing, either.

He had this air about him when you were near. It simmered when he talked to you, when he touched you or looked in your eyes. An almost… protectiveness. Possessive.

It was the same with his name. He hadn’t asked a single other person to call him Keigo, and no one did. Except you. And he was adamant about it.

You were flattered, and happy to do this for him. But you were a bit embarrassed to admit that you’d been struggling to adjust. You kept using his hero name by mistake. At first he’d just corrected you with an unreadable expression, then started to tease you about it, but now he’d resorted to waiting until you got it right to respond at all. Even though he’d hadn’t been as outwardly playful since he’d been burned, you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you or anything. Another change you understood. He was being more authentic to who he was. More reserved and quiet and thinking. Again, an adjustment to be sure, but you were happy.

You didn’t mind this slightly new dynamic. In fact, you were hopelessly in danger of falling even more in love with him than you already were, the poor man.

You swore that if he slid his palm over the expanse of your back one more time, tenderly whispered your name like that, gave you instructions with a warm, grounding touch… you were going to lose it and confess on the spot.

You stumbled when one of the incapacitated villains stuck their foot out to trip you as you walked past. You glared at him. Tied, gagged, beat up, and still trying to cause shit.

You kicked at his foot.

“Come stand over here,” called Hawks’— fuck, Keigo’s— still slightly raspy voice.

You gave the villain one more stink eye, and came to stand next to where Keigo was leaning against the car. His hand went to your back immediately. Warm even through his glove and your sweater.

It truly concerned you how normal that was starting to feel. How disarming.

He gently rubbed your back with his thumb, his palm flat against your spine, waiting silently for Jeanist and Endeavor to come back with instructions for the goons.

The feeling of his hand… strong and grounding like an anchor… your eyes slid closed after only a few moments.

Like you said, lately comfort was desperately needed and hard to come by. You kept your back straight, clutching your bag to your chest, savoring the feeling of your best friend. There to keep you safe.

When your eyes opened, they slid over to him on instinct. He was watching you.

You cheeks flared but you kept his gaze. He wasn’t… anything really. Not happy or upset or surprised. He just looked back at you, his hand still against you.

God you swore… sometimes you were so ridiculously close to just grabbing him by the stupid jacket and kissing him senseless. Just to feel it, to feel him, to see what he would do. To see if it would really ruin your life like you told yourself it would.

This somewhat new side of him was intriguing to say the least. Not afraid of silence, of a blank expression, of showing he was thinking. Before his burn and the collapse of society, his training kept his expression in a claustrophobic range of cock-sure grin to open laughter. The only exception was when he was squaring off against villains, or simply too tired to mask himself properly. The later was still rare, however. He only ever willingly stopped presenting when the two of you were alone, and you were proud to say you’d gotten very good at seeing beneath it all.

But things were different now. He didn’t bother to hide. As his friend, it was a breath of fresh air, and it was nice to see no one else seemed to mind either. He still laughed and smiled and made stupid quips. But he didn’t bother to be someone he wasn't.

But he’d been changing too, inside. Everyone had. Less hero and more man. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you to start using his name.

[makeste]

So... How was watching that episode?

I meant to do a post on this sooner, as opposed to late on a Friday night hours before the next episode drops (eta: well apparently there's no new ep airing this week after all so that makes my timing slightly less atrocious), but yeah. basically I loved it. it hurt in all the right ways.

music was incredible. no shot it was ever not going to be incredible. Hayashi Yuuki thank you for always making my emotions your bitch.

there are admittedly a couple of moments in the anime which I felt weren't quite as impactful as they were in the manga. one of these is the moment when Jeanist, after seeing that Kacchan is (he thinks) traumatized and crying, immediately shifts gears from trying to hype him back up to return to the battle, and instead starts reassuring him that he's done enough and he doesn't have to fight anymore and they'll figure out a way without him. when I first read that part in the manga it absolutely slaughtered me. it's so rare to see media that stars young adults as the protagonists, and portrays them as capable young warriors, and yet also acknowledges that even so, they're still just kids. and to then surround said kids with adults who aren't dumbed down, and who are actually smart and capable and who are actively looking out for them and trying to protect them even though the kids are more OP than they are.

so to have a character that looks at someone like Bakugou and sees past how powerful and determined and ferocious he is, and instead just sees a kid who has been so incredibly brave and who they've asked so much of already. and to have that character make the on-the-spot decision to pull this kid out of the fight, regardless of the consequences, even if it means they might LOSE, just because he thinks the kid is hurt and scared and past his limits, and he needs someone to look out for him. that moment says everything about what kind of person Jeanist is. just, that one part got to me so much.

BUT, in the anime it all happens much faster and the moment gets kind of lost because Kacchan almost immediately starts doing his Deku-style muttering, and Jeanist quickly realizes that his initial read was wrong and this kid is actually FULLY AND COMPLETELY LOCKED IN MORE THAN EVER. which is exactly what happens in the manga as well, to be fair. but in the manga I got to read and absorb it at my own pace, whereas the anime just keeps on going with no concern over whether you've had enough time to process everything that's going on. and so that moment just kind of slips by, and almost isn't even noticeable unless you're looking out for it. it's not really a complaint, because there isn't really any other way the scene could be adapted, probably. but it does give me a good excuse to write a mini-essay about how much I love it, so yeah.

moving on though, in spite of my wishing we could have somehow lingered on that part a second or two longer, I did absolutely love the reveal of Kacchan mumbling and analyzing Deku-style. the first of many outstanding Okamoto Nobuhiko performances in this episode. full nerd powers activated. we'd already seen him do this in Bakugou Katsuki: Rising as well, but this is where it really stands out and it was awesome.

and by the way, shout out to the Big Three who are fucking great. eventually when I get around to posting my manga recaps for this part of the story, those will get more into their antics. for now though, I'll just say that everything was very well adapted. and the part where poor Mirio is all "???? sorry????" when TomurAFO has his brief little Tenko outburst was everything I hoped it would be, and Mirio's actor absolutely nailed it. like I knew it was coming and was anticipating it, and it still slayed me. easily a top five funniest moment in the whole damn series.

Kacchan standing up and telling Jeanist to look after the others filled me with just as much dread as the first time I read it. and the first time I read it, I had already been spoiled. so what I'm trying to say is, knowing what's about to happen does not in any way lessen the intensity of this moment. if anything it just enhances it.

the reveal of Kacchan's powerup was so incredibly badass. I can't even describe how badass it was. just, BOOM. now you see me, now you don't. LA DEE DA, HERE I AM! and the narration in the background talking about his quirk. chef's kiss.

no matter how many anime characters I see pulling off the omae wa mou shindeiru, I will never, ever tire of it. it's the single most badass thing anyone can ever do. especially when they were being underestimated the entire fucking time, and now all of a sudden they're out here scaring the shit out of the big bad himself. no one is faster than Kacchan. KACCHAN CAN RUN FASTER THAN ALL OF YOU. HE CAN FUCKING FLY!! HE'S BEHIND YOU RIGHT NOW!! GOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

and then Nobu hits us with the coup de grace. "Izuku… can I still catch up to you?" fellas is it gay to spend your last thirty seconds of life having an imaginary conversation with your beloved rival even as you're zapping around like a bolt of lightning, kicking more ass than anyone on earth has ever kicked.

and I was already dead by this point, but then the All Might vestige scene kicked in and resuscitated me so I could die again even harder. worth it.

so what really killed me nineteen times during this part was the way that Kacchan sounded so completely and utterly different from how he has ever sounded before. this is a scene that's taking place entirely in his head (or… in OFA land… maybe???? goddammit Horikoshi still owes us an explanation. THAT VESTIGE SHOULD NOT BE THERE I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYBODY SAYS). there's nobody else around. nobody to perform for. nobody to show off or look tough for. it's just him, and this big mysterious yellow All Might ghost thing.

and he sounds like an entirely different person. nervous, shy, sheepish. no crudeness, no insults. just, aw shucks. hand to back of neck. avert eyes. so this is kind of awkward, but... the thing is, I always wanted to... but I was such a brat when we first met... and I just never found the right moment after... anyway yeah I'm sorry and it's really dumb. but I really just. wanted to get your autograph.

just. this is him at his most sincere. this is who he's always been, all along. the one and ONLY time we've ever gotten a glimpse of him with absolutely no walls. and he is NOTHING like what he presents himself as to the outside world. he is sweet, he is gentle, he is self-effacing. he is painfully vulnerable, which is doubtless why he never dares to show this side of himself to anybody, ever. and he is ultimately so calmly accepting of this one last regret during what he believes are his final moments.

anyway. so yeah. it destroyed me. what else is there to say.

and then it happens. and once again, not to shit on the anime at all because this episode was fantastic, but this was another part that seemed much clearer in the manga. particularly that one page where we see that everyone else -- Jeanist; Mirio; Hadou; Tamaki; even Mirko -- tried to save Katsuki from that final blow, but they were all just a split second too late. the anime did its best to show that, but I think it was just harder to convey in that format. whereas the manga did it beautifully in a way that couldn't really be replicated.

but on the other hand, one thing the anime did VERY well was showing Kacchan's ragdoll body just flop lifelessly away afterwards. holy shit. I watched like a half dozen reaction videos to this episode on Youtube, and in most of them the anime viewers didn't quite realize how bad of a hit it was at first… until they showed that. then they were like, D: D: D:

and then last but not least… the image that broke the internet so hard that it spoiled me even in my paranoid social media isolation. Kacchan lying lifelessly on the ground. it's such a well-drawn panel in the manga, and the anime absolutely did it justice. having him be so pale was a wonderful touch. you see him, and you just immediately know. there's no room for doubt at all. it's powerful af. the Youtuber reactors all lost their minds. one woman actually started sobbing. phenomenal cinema.

so yeah! needless to say I thought it was spectacular. pour one out for the anime-onlys though. and now their watch begins.

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARACTER GENERATOR for @4unnyr0se

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen trope: enemies to lovers

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTER IS...

KATSUKI BAKUGO

you were acquainted with bakugo from training under best jeanist. and let it be known, you were there first. but one day, mr king explosion murder came sauntering and suddenly he's the centre of attention! jeanist's most "promising protégé". it just wasn't fair, nor did it make any sense.

especially because bakugo didn't embody any qualities a hero should have; and you had no problem saying that to his face. he wasn't compassionate, empathetic or humble — in fact, he would often brag about his superiority from coming from a more renowned school. he'd bring it up whenever the two of you were squabbling (which was frequently).

needless to say, you and katsuki bakugo were not on good terms. whenever you were in the same room together, it would always dissolve into a screaming match, to the point where best jeanist just found it easiest to keep you two apart than to try teach you both civility.

anyway, today you aren't at work, so you didn't have to worry about all that. instead, you're slumped on your couch in your pyjamas, watching your favourite animes while idly sketching. that is, until you hear your doorbell ring.

you had ordered food earlier to you eagerly hopped to your feet, grabbed your wallet for the tip and shuffled over to the door. you unlock it and peer around the side of the door, trying to hide your figure since you are clad in loungewear. however, that becomes the least of your worries when you lay your eyes upon the delivery guy.

immediately you burst into a fit of cackles at the sight of the one and only katsuki bakugo standing at your door, box of noodles in his hands. once he realises that it's you, he knits his eyebrows together and barks, "eh, what's so funny?!"

you would answer but you can barely construct a sentence with how winded you are from laughing you lungs out. and the one you are able to splutter out, first and foremost has to be a dig, "i see pro-heroing hasn't worked out for you!" your shaky hands grip your phone and open your camera, pointing it at him.

instinctively he covers it with his palms, the small explosions making you jerk your phone away for its safety. "just take your food, damn it!" he huffs, pushing it into your grip, then crossing his arms.

once you have it in your arms, you're able to calm down slightly, taking deep breaths. you wipe a final tear away from your eye, and glance silently between your food and bakugo. "what are we waiting for?"

"what do you think?!" he snaps at you.

"oh, a tip." you smack your lips together and give him a nasty once-over, "i'm good."

just as you are about to close the door in his face, he slams his hand down against it to prevent you from doing so, "i didn't just come all the way over here for nothing! damn noodles almost burned my hands off! give me my tip, lady!"

"awh, poor baby." you pout in order to taunt him, which only makes him even redder.

he huffs and snatches the noodles out of your hands, "fuck off! if your not going to tip me, then this is mine, thanks."

you roll your eyes, wanting more than anything to yank his hair and take your noodles back, but knowing if you show any sign of frustration, you'll be giving him what he wants. "right. i ordered the spiciest noodles on the menu. you couldn't handle that."

more tiny explosions seemed to be going off. "you're kidding! you think i can't handle it? get real!" he begins to open your noodle box, which is when a fearful tightness builds in your chest, "you're the one who couldn't handle it."

he takes one of the provided wooden forks and jabs it into your food, while you realise he was being genuine about the whole 'eating your food' thing. you thought it was a manipulation tactic to get you to grovel or something but no, this greedy bitch was seriously about to eat your noodles!

so you have to act fast, and think of a way you can have at least some of your meal, because there was no way he was just going to hand it over.

"wait—" you call out, and he freezes, looking up at you while faced down towards the noodles, right as he was about to take a slurp. "why don't we make it a contest? see who can eat more without crying."

bakugo smirked. there was no way he was going to back down from any sort of competition. (he was also a bit too keen on the idea of sharing food with you, but anywho.) "something else i can beat you in? sure."

he rips of the spare fork stuck to the side of the box and hands it to you with a fierce glint in his eyes, which you reciprocate. you dig your fork into the noodles as well, and blurt out, "okay. threetwoone go!" then rapidly start shovelling the food into your mouth.

"huh!?" unaware that there was going to be a countdown, and when it was agreed upon that you'd do it, but regardless, without a second thought he also started shoving heaps of noodles into his mouth.

from an outsider's perspective, it was definitely a weird sight to behold. two people standing in a doorway, eating hastily out of one box of noodles as though they've been starved for days. and standing so close to each other, and the optimal position was with your heads close to the box, so naturally your foreheads were almost touching. it didn't help either that the noodles were covered with chili sauce which made an entire mess of both of your faces.

not that either of you cared, you were in it to win it. although you were initially only participating as way of not getting your meal stolen, now that bakugo had ignited the competitive fire within you, the taste for victory creeped in.

with the rate the two of you were eating at, it wasn't long until there was only a heap of noodles left, that both of your forks were desperately scrambling over.

then it happened. you were simply slurping away as you previously have been doing, except one particular noodles strung you along until your lips were milimetres away from bakugo's. not quite touching, but both wide eyed, you realised the situation you were in.

while you froze up from the shock, you expected bakugo to use his teeth to sever the connection so he can continue eating. but what you didn't anticipate was for him to roughly grip the back of your head with his whole arm and pull you in for a heated kiss.

not that you were opposed. perhaps it was because he tasted like delicious noodles, but for some unknown reason, you found yourself melting into the kiss, allowing your lips to move gently against his when his tight hold on you eventually slackened.

it decreased in ferosity until you slowly parted. the air of uncertain passion lingering thick even when you were both stood straight, staring at each other.

there's a pregnant silence that loomed, until bakugo slowly raises his arm and extended his hand towards your cheek. at which you jerked away and scoffed, "you don't need to caress my cheek, princess. i can already tell you like me."

"i wasn't going to do that, idiot! i was trying to wipe the sauce off your stupid face!"

"oh," you uttered, lips parted slightly, "then go ahead, pookie."

for @4unnyr0se: firstly i would like to say that bakugo was delivery driving because best jeanist wanted him to develop humility and patience. bakugo was forbidden from doing pro-hero work until he got a 5-star rating lol 😭

hope you liked this :P i know it's a bit silly but it was either this or i was gonna write hardcore filthy smut for you and sir nighteye. the enemies to lovers thing would be that you're a villain and he catches you so he fucks the evil out of you 😔 but i was like maybe that's too intense lol

[willowser]

regarding ex husband bag, i have an hc that might not be popular but: i think bakugo retires from prohero work kind of early, like late thirties/early forties. Hes done more in two years than most heroes do in their whole lives, he's gone all out, almost lost an eye or a limb more times than he can count. He's gone through that whole league if villains ordeal, it changes his perspective on his juvenile ambition. He has a son, and while that used to spur him to work more and protect him, now he realizes that's the very thing that split his world in two. So, he cuts down on the patrol hours, maybe starts teaching the next gen of heroes to feel less guilty, he finds purchase in combing down rowdy boys' hair as best jeanist did before him. But that doesn't quell his guilt, his sense of impotence and ptsd and maybe that's when you start slipping together again. He works more but still looks tired, cause he stays up all night, awake. He has more time to think, about you and your son and his perceived failure as an husband and a hero. And you, well you love him still, so you help him. He falls asleep easier in your arms, thinks less when he's with you, feels less guilty when he sees why he left in the first place, his wife and his son. And I think that's how you get back together, you slowly fall in love all over again (the love was always there) and give him solace and meaning, and he can finally protect his wittle family the way it deserves. 🥺🥺

this is so heartbreaking and mending all in one omg !! but no, no, i absolutely agree with you !! i really think about this a lot, like. how long do we think bakugou really does this hero business ??

i tend to have this personal hc that he does retire a little early, like maybe late 30's. idk, i think after everything that's happening now in the manga, i think his perception of 'victory' and 'success' will change a bit. i also think with all this coming out about endeavor, and then literally being at the forefront of it all in the worst way, i almost think he would be a little disillusioned ?? obviously he still loves his heroes, 100%, but i think he finally is able to see through the smoke and mirrors and realize this life isn't as grand as he thought it was. that it's a lie. so i definitely see him retiring early.

but oh boy !! that totally does take its toll on him mentally !! you are so right !!! because he may know what he was striving for doesn't really exist, but that doesn't change that it was his lifelong goal, and that has to be so hard !! he probably goes back and forth for a while and maybe even loses his sense of identity and aklhfakhfgka it's probably so conflicting for him 🥺 

and then fitting that into the plot about his lil son 🥺 you put it together with such heartache !! such comfort !! you are so so right. i don't even want to add more because it's perfect !! 

[allisonbaelfire]

Amethyst. - PART 21

I stormed out of the training room, my frustration clawing at me like the flames I had just barely contained. The hallways of the agency were eerily quiet, the weight of what had just happened still pressing down on my chest. My feet carried me forward, but my mind was somewhere else—angry, confused, exhausted.

Why is it always him?

Bakugo’s voice had cut through the chaos when even I couldn’t. The thought twisted in my stomach like a knot I couldn’t untangle. I didn’t want to rely on anyone—especially not Bakugo. Yet, somehow, he was the one who always managed to reach me.

I turned a corner and nearly ran straight into him.

Bakugo was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his usual scowl firmly in place. His crimson eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a flicker of that same anger surge back to life.

“You did good,” he muttered, his voice low, almost begrudging.

My steps faltered. Good? My blood boiled at the simplicity of his words. How could he say that like it was nothing? Like I wasn’t hanging on by a thread?

I felt my frustration bubble over. “Why is it always you?” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended. “Why do you get through to me when I can’t even control myself?”

Bakugo didn’t flinch, his eyes narrowing at me in that infuriating way he had. “Because you’re scared of your own quirk and yourself,” he said bluntly. “And I’m not.”

The words hit like a slap, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. He said it like it was obvious, like he’d known all along. Anger flared again, hotter this time, mixing with something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

“I’m not scared,” I snapped back, my fists clenching at my sides. “It’s you—ever since you came into my life, I can’t focus! I keep thinking about you and losing control!”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze. I hadn’t meant to say that. Did I really just say that?

Bakugo’s eyes widened just slightly, surprise flickering across his face. Then, just as quickly, his expression hardened again. “Thinking about me, huh?”

My face burned with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean—” I turned away, yanking the door to my room open. “Forget it!” I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it, my heart pounding.

I did NOT just say that.

__________

Best Jeanist’s POV

I watched as Y/N Todoroki stormed out of the training room, her frustration evident in every sharp movement. Her potential was undeniable, but that potential came with a weight—one she wasn’t fully prepared to carry yet. Today’s training had exposed the cracks, not just in her control over her quirk, but in the emotional foundation beneath it. She’s talented, but talent alone is never enough.

Her power is immense, but without emotional mastery, she’s walking a precarious line.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through the contacts until I found the one I needed. Shota Aizawa. He would need to know what transpired today. This isn’t something that could be resolved in a mere week of training.

The phone rang twice before Aizawa’s voice answered, gruff and to the point. “What is it, Tsunagu?”

“Aizawa, I need to discuss Todoroki’s progress. Specifically, the development of her quirk,” I replied, keeping my tone calm but serious. “Today, we saw something I believe she isn’t ready to handle.”

There was a pause on the other end before Aizawa spoke again. “What happened?”

“Her dragon manifested again—fully this time,” I explained. “It’s more than just a quirk manifestation. It’s… primal. And from what I observed, I’m not convinced she was in control of it.”

Silence. I could tell Aizawa was processing the information. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but firm. “I expected something like this might happen. Tell me more.”

I glanced back at the training room, remnants of her quirk still lingering in the air. “Her ice and fire are coming along well—better than I expected. But the dragon… it feeds off something deeper, her emotions. And today, it took over.” I paused for a moment, then added, “It was Bakugo’s intervention that helped her regain control. I’m not sure she could have done it on her own.”

“I understand,” Aizawa replied, his tone thoughtful. “I’ve had another student once who couldn’t gain control over his Quirk until it was too late.”

I didn’t need to say it, but the comparison was there, lingering between us.

“There’s more to this,” I said, my tone shifting slightly. “If she’s going to master that part of herself, she’ll need more than just technical training. She needs time—and guidance.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her when she’s back at U.A.,” Aizawa replied. “But what about the rest of the internship?”

“She’s got a few days left here. I’ll continue to work with her, but the real challenge will begin once she’s back with you. The dragon is more than a quirk—it’s a reflection of her state of mind. Without emotional control, it will continue to control her.”

Aizawa was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I’ll be ready.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Good. She’ll need all the support she can get.”

We ended the call, but I couldn’t shake the weight of the situation. Todoroki’s quirk was powerful, perhaps even more so than her father’s. But it wasn’t just her power that concerned me—it was the emotional struggle that came with it.

A part of me feared that if she didn’t find balance soon, the dragon might consume her. __________

After the shower, I felt the tension ease a bit, though the weight of the day still sat heavily on my shoulders. I dried my hair quickly, pulling on a clean pair of pajamas, and sat at the small desk in my room. The laptop screen flickered to life, and I mindlessly opened up my browser, ready to distract myself.

But just as I was about to click on an episode of Gossip Girl to help unwind, a breaking news headline caught my eye.

Hero Killer: Stain Captured. Endeavor Leads the Charge.

My breath caught in my throat as I clicked on the article. The screen filled with an image that made my heart sink—Endeavor stood tall, victorious, without a scratch on him. But it wasn’t him I focused on. In the background, just behind him, I could see Shoto, Midoriya, and Iida… all bruised and looking utterly exhausted.

Stain—the Hero Killer. He was infamous for targeting pro heroes, claiming they were corrupt and unworthy of their titles. His ideology had spread fear throughout the hero community, his brutal attacks leaving both heroes and civilians on edge. And now, he had been captured.

But at what cost?

My heart twisted with worry.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and dialed Shoto. The phone rang, and with every second, the knot in my stomach tightened. He finally picked up after the third ring.

“Y/N?” Shoto’s voice was calm, but there was a heaviness to it that I recognized too well.

“Are you okay?” I asked immediately, my voice sharper than I intended. “I saw a picture of you, Midoriya, and Iida all beaten up—and not a scratch on Father.” The bitterness in my words was hard to hide.

“I’m fine,” Shoto replied, but there was a pause. His answer didn’t ease the tightness in my chest.

I sat there in silence for a moment, my mind replaying the image of them bruised and beaten. I hated that I hadn’t been there. Again. Just like when the villains attacked UA. I was always one step behind.

“I’m at the hospital,” Shoto added quietly.

My stomach twisted with guilt, a familiar feeling I couldn’t shake. Not again. I hadn’t been there to protect him. I hadn’t been there for any of it.

“You couldn’t have prevented it,” Shoto said, his voice softer now, as if he could sense what I was thinking. “I’m okay. The others are too. Don’t worry.”

I exhaled slowly, still unable to shake the guilt completely. Shoto always knew what to say, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

“How’s your training going?” Shoto asked after a moment, surprising me with the shift in conversation.

I blinked, caught off guard. Shoto rarely asked about my training, at least not in recent years. I hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “Best Jeanist wanted to test the full extent of my quirk,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Flames… and the dragon.”

“And?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Fire was okay, but he thinks I controlled the Dragon, but… I don’t think I did. It felt like… I wasn’t in control. Not really.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “What do you mean?”

Before I could answer, there was a sudden knock at my door, loud and urgent. I turned my head toward the sound, feeling an unsettling tension in the air.

“I have to go,” I said quickly, glancing at the door. “I’ll tell you more when I get home.”

“Alright,” Shoto replied, though his voice was still laced with concern. “Take care, Y/N.”

I hung up and stood, moving toward the door. My mind was still swimming with the weight of the conversation when I opened it.

Standing there, with a scowl on his face and fire in his eyes, was Katsuki Bakugo.

__________

Bakugo’s POV

I didn’t even wait for her to say anything before I shoved my way into her room, slamming the door behind me. My anger boiled over the second I saw her, but it wasn’t just anger. It was frustration—frustration at her, at myself, at the whole damn day.

“You listen here, you little goddamn extra!” I growled, pointing a finger at her. “You can’t blame me for not being focused, since you first came to UA, you haven’t been focused.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, and I could see the spark of anger flare up in her. Good. Let her be mad.

“I helped you with that!” I continued, stepping closer, my fists clenching at my sides. “I’m the one who keeps pulling your ass out of the fire, and you still can’t see it!”

“You have no idea who I am or how focused I am!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising as she stepped forward, not backing down.

We were inches apart now, both of us fuming, both of us refusing to give an inch.

“You’re always blaming me for your screw-ups,” I snarled. “But if you wanna blame someone, blame yourself. Because of you, I’m not focused anymore!”

Y/N blinked, the anger in her eyes flickering with confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t give a hundred percent today!” I shouted, feeling my face grow hotter as the words poured out. “At Jeanist’s training, I wasn’t focused! And it’s your fault because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your stupid goddamn pajamas and—”

I froze, my words catching in my throat. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.

My face turned red as I tried to backtrack, but the damage was already done.

Y/N’s POV

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Did he just… say what I thought he said?

Bakugo’s face was flushed, and for the first time, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had blurted out the truth without thinking, and now he was caught.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come. My face was burning, and my heart was racing a mile a minute.

Without thinking, I turned on my heel and stormed back toward the door. My hands were trembling, and my mind was racing, but I needed an out. I needed to get away from this conversation—away from him.

I yanked the door open, fully prepared to leave, but Bakugo’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Don’t walk away,” he growled, frustration thick in his voice. “Not again.”

I froze, his words hitting harder than I expected. Slowly, I turned to face him, my hand still gripping the doorknob.

“I’m not—” I began, but the words caught in my throat. The tension between us was suffocating, and the heat of my embarrassment mixed with the anger swirling in my chest.

Bakugo stepped closer, his voice lowering just a bit. “You think you’re the only one who’s pissed off? The only one dealing with this?”

My breath hitched as I met his gaze. His usual sharp, fiery eyes held something else—something I couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t just angry. There was something more beneath the surface.

“Bakugo, I—” I started, but I couldn’t finish. My heart was racing too fast, my thoughts too scattered.

“You drive me crazy,” he muttered, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “But you’ve also been the only thing I can’t stop thinking about. And it’s screwing with me.”

My eyes widened as his words sank in, the truth in them cutting through the chaos in my head. I felt my face grow even hotter, but before I could respond, Bakugo took a step back, his usual scowl returning in full force.

“Tch. Forget it,” he snapped, turning toward the door. “You’re too much of a pain in the ass anyway.”

Before I could say anything, Bakugo stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The echo of it vibrated through the air, but all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.

What the hell just happened?

_________

The door slammed shut behind Bakugo, but it didn’t stop the storm inside my head. His words echoed, louder than anything else in the room.

You’ve been the only thing I can’t stop thinking about. And it’s screwing with me.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I was rooted in place, staring at the door like it held the answers to the chaos Bakugo had left behind. He was always like this, breaking down walls I didn’t even know I had built, leaving me more confused than ever.

I groaned, running my hands through my hair, trying to clear my head. Why did I say that? Why did I tell him I’ve been thinking about him?

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. I was supposed to be in control, of myself, of my quirk, of everything. But ever since Bakugo showed up in my life, control was the last thing I had. And now, after everything we just said to each other, I didn’t even know what to think anymore.

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, my mind spinning in a dozen different directions. Bakugo had always gotten under my skin, his bluntness, his temper—everything about him irritated me. But there was also something else there, something I didn’t want to admit. Maybe it was why his words hit so hard. Maybe it was why he could calm me down when no one else could.

I felt a flush crawl up my neck again as I replayed his words in my head. You’re too much of a pain in the ass anyway.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. I wanted to march back out into the hall and demand he explain himself. But I didn’t. Instead, I buried my face in my hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

I stayed on the bed for what felt like hours, my mind drifting back and forth between everything that had happened today—Shoto’s voice on the phone, Bakugo’s infuriating words, the overwhelming chaos of my quirk.

Shoto had been fighting Stain, and I hadn’t been there to protect him. Again. It was like I was always just a step too far away, unable to help when it really mattered.

I sighed, leaning back against the pillows and staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep feeling like I was failing everyone around me—Shoto, Bakugo, even myself.

Rolling over, I grabbed my laptop and opened it, hoping that distracting myself would be enough to make me fall asleep. I clicked back to the episode of Gossip Girl I had been watching earlier, hoping it would calm my nerves. But even as the familiar drama unfolded on the screen, my mind refused to settle. My thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo, to the way he looked at me, to the words he had blurted out before storming off.

You’ve been the only thing I can’t stop thinking about.

I groaned, shutting the laptop. After a few restless hours, I knew sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how much I wanted it to. I missed the feeling of last night—of falling asleep in Bakugo’s arms. No, I told myself. I can’t think about that.

But the more I tried to push it away, the more I wanted it back. The warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way I felt safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

I sat up, glancing at the clock. It was late, way too late to do what I was thinking about doing. But the thought was already planted in my mind, and before I knew it, I was grabbing my laptop and padding quietly toward Bakugo’s room.

I hesitated for a moment outside his door, my hand hovering just inches away from knocking. What am I doing? I asked myself, doubt creeping in. He’s probably asleep. I was about to turn around and head back to my own room when the door creaked open.

Bakugo stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at me, my pajamas rumpled, and my laptop tucked under my arm.

“What the hell do you want?” His voice was gruff, but there was no real bite behind it.

I opened my mouth, trying to find the right words, but nothing came out. Instead, I just stood there, staring up at him like an idiot.

He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he stepped back and opened the door wider, letting me in without a word.

I hesitated for only a second before walking inside. His room was dimly lit, and he moved back to his bed, sliding under the covers as if this was the most normal thing in the world. I watched as he adjusted the blanket, opening it slightly, silently inviting me to join him.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I followed his lead, crawling into the bed next to him. The moment I lay down, Bakugo grabbed the laptop from me, resting it on his stomach and turning me to face him, pulling me into his arms.

For a second, I stiffened, unsure of what to do, but the warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breathing melted away my anxiety. I relaxed against him, my head resting on his chest as he clicked play on the episode of Gossip Girl we had started last night.

The sound of the show played in the background, but I barely registered it. My mind was too busy processing the fact that I was lying here, in Bakugo’s arms, for the second night in a row.

Before I knew it, sleep began to creep in, my eyelids growing heavy. I was drifting off, wrapped in the warmth and safety of his presence, when I heard him mutter softly, almost too quiet to catch.

“Damn, Frostburn, you drive me nuts.”

_______

Amethyst. - Masterlist: click here -> You can find my Story on Wattpad!

_______ Please don't forget to like and share the Story if you like it!

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hello can I request a Keigo best jeanist and mirkos react to Seeing their S/o getting Brutally killed in front of them? (Seperately)

Yandere Hawks and Mirko reacting to their darlings death

Warnings: violence, killing, mental issues, and a lot of angst; hint a suicide.

A/N: Hi, I don't write Best Jeanist so I decided just to write these two characters.

Sorry if this is short, I was hurried!! :((. Thank you for requesting, stay well.

Hawks / Keigo Takamki:

His body shook with anger and denial.

Anything in his way feels his wrath. His wings shoot out, killing and smashing anything in his way as he jumped onto the villain. Brutely punching them until their face as unrecognizable, his fists and body splattered with red and bruised.

He didn't want to believe you were gone, even though he woke up to you never there — always flying around, almost searching for you, yet, nothing came.

Endeavor, of course, saw the change and showed a rare chance of compassion; a hand on his shoulder for support. But, it was pushed off; his face stoned cold, and his eye's colored black.

Keigo hits rock bottom — after everything, right when he had you and got a true meaning of happiness. He lost you, a true dove that belonged.

He completely changed. He didn't do his smirk, or show off his wings, but rather hid them whenever he was in public. Nor did he sleep, barely getting a few hours, only waking up with dreams of your laughter, smile, and touch; oh God your touch.

Suddenly, the television announced that Hawks was missing, expressing that he wasn't seen.

He was lost. He was missing, rather flew somewhere very high, only bringing your favorite blanket, some clothes, and a flower that you always adored.

The apartment was trashed. His feathers are sprawled everywhere, and trash added into the corner as everything is where you had left it; untouched.

Nobody knows where — or when he'll be back. But, the last thing that is seen by him was, on the fridge a sticky note dated: "Tomorrow, at 8pm."

— "I'm so sorry – why couldn't I save you?"

Mirko / Rumi Usagiyama:

Rage and confusion consume her.

Immediately, she looks at the villain with a look of wrath; tears swelling in the corner of her eyes as she felt her adrenaline course through her body.

Rumi attacks the villain, throwing them around before beating them to a pulp; punching, choking, and hurting them till her hands were covered in thick blood.

She kept screaming "why?" And "how fucking dare you."

When the police show up, ask questions and take her to the hospital for a check-up... she's numb.

She doesn't believe it at first, she tries her hardest to say strong. She does. The only feeling of guilt and anger fills her heart.

When the funeral comes, she's reassuring everyone — but herself. She's letting your friends lean on her, cry on her shoulder as her eyes stunk from crying the night before.

When she comes back home, she breaks down. Sliding against the wall as she breaks everything; punching the wall, pulling at her ears and hair.

She keeps your favorite flowers around the house; decorated in vases with items stilled around the home. She never moves them, but rather admires them with tears rolling down her cheeks.

For the next few days, Rumi stays quiet. She stays in bed, and looks outside while the birds chirped and imaging your voice; touch; that sweet addictive scent of yours.

Slowly, everything loses its motivation for her. She won't bring herself to work, let alone eat, drink, or sleep. Just lay there, in the bed rethinking it.

The memory constantly repeats each minute of her time — your screams, your face, your blood. Everything.

— "It should've been me... why wasn't it me."

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

Content belongs to ©️ yandere-kokeshi only.

[silver-psychopath]

It's very telling that what's happening RIGHT NOW in CANON (Bakugou outright being confirmed as Izuku's main weakness and it being exploited by villains, causing him to go a little feral) is literally always a massive plot point in most BKDK fanfictions. And has been even before any of this last arc.

Like, Bakugou may be almost completely dead (literally being held together with Best Jeanist's string and Edgeshot folding himself into a fucking temporary heart or whatever) but BakuDeku shippers are literally winning so bad right now.

Even if they never kiss at the end of the series or if they somehow end up marrying/dating someone else, it's literally being confirmed in these last chapters that Bakugou would die for Izuku as much as (if not more) Izuku would die for his Kacchan.

Horikoshi has proved time and time again that Bakugou is sincerely apologetic for the shit he put Izuku through as kids and he's not only apologised verbally but Bakugou has also done multiple gestures physically (helping Izuku better himself in training, attending his talks with All Might and giving them a fresh perspective during discussions, literally throwing himself in front of Izuku and AFO!Shiggy's deadly spikes).

Horikoshi himself, the literal fucking writer and author of the series, is currently telling us that these two mean more to eachother than anything in the world, that the one most important person/thing to Izuku, the one thing that would destroy him to lose, is Bakugou. Not Inko, not All Might, not Uraraka, but Bakugou.

He's proving that they treasure and love eachother more than anything in the world, Izuku gave up being a hero and became a temporary Vigilante for weeks because he knew AFO was coming after him and he wanted their meeting to be as far away from his loved ones as he could, Bakugou almost gave up his fucking life for Izuku (and Bakugou has proven before that he values becoming the number one hero, you can't do that if you're fucking dead). His possible last thoughts are of Izuku and if Izuku thinks he (Bakugou) finally good enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with him (Izuku), a far cry from middle schooler Bakugou thinking Izuku was beneath him for years.

They love eachother, wether that's platonic, romantically or otherwise. But they love eachother. And that's what BakuDeku is about. Love.

This whole series has been leading up to the two of them finally reconciling and overcoming all of their history to start something beautiful and amazing.

We. Are. Winning.

[ismartiegirl300-blog]

Quick Hawks Fluff #1

Warnings: none! Fluff and semi angst. Gender neutral reader. Established relationship. 

Summary: This happens after the paranormal liberation war. Hawks is having a hard time about his wings and you help him. :)

Hawks stood in front of the bedroom mirror shirtless. He could still some burns across his skin but those were secondary concerns. He turned around and flipped his head back to get a good look at his wings. Or what was left of them. There were few feathers left and they weren’t in good shape. The burns on his back were definitely worse. He tried rearranging the feathers in an attempt to make his wings look somewhat full. That attempt failed. Hawks sighed and put his head in his hands before sitting on the bed. 

How was he going to do hero work like this? His quirk was essentially useless and the doctors couldn’t tell him if his wings would ever be the same. It wasn’t just hero work either. Fierce wings were part of him. The quirk he once resented because of his parents had become his savior. Those wings allowed him to fly out of the gutter and to the top of the hero charts. He couldn’t say he loved every part of being a hero (he was glad the hero commission was finally out of the picture) but those wings had helped a lot of other people as well. He’d saved countless people in his time as a hero. He felt the space they used to occupy and it ached. 

“Hey babe! Are you dressed? Jeanist is almost here and they want the conference to start right at eleven so we’ve gotta be ready to go in like-” You had walked into the room to see your boyfriend on the bed and looking rough, and not just because of his injuries. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” Hawks heard you say as he suddenly felt your warm fingers pry his hands off of his face. 

He was looking into your face. What did he do to deserve the love in those beautiful eyes? He sighed and raised a palm to your cheek. 

“Babe?” You asked. 

“Sorry... I just got distracted.” Hawks replied his voice still raspy and forced from his injuries. 

“Hmm.” You said skeptically as you pulled him to his feet. You walked over to the closet and pulled out one of his dress shirts. 

“I’m just... I guess I just feel like... defeated.” Hawks admitted. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

Hawks explained as you carefully slid his wings through the custom slots. He shrugged the shirt on over his arms and you flipped him around to start doing the buttons as you listened. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to be a hero without the wings. I haven’t felt this uncertain since I was a kid. I feel so helpless and I hate it. I thought I gave up that helpless kid years ago, you know?” 

You finish doing the top button before smoothing out the collar. You can feel Hawks staring down at you waiting for a response. You meet his gaze and give him a small smile. 

“Billions of people on this planet have quirks Keigo. That doesn’t make them all heroes. It was never your wings Keigo.” You slide a hand over his chest and rest it on his heart at that last part. 

Hawks shoulders relax and his face softens. He’s like putty in your hands and he knows it. Everything about you was perfect. He wanted to skip this stupid press conference and stay here with you just to cuddle in bed. He just wanted to be close to you always. Especially after moments like this when he remembers just how good you are. 

“I love you baby bird.” He says before pulling you in by the waist. He leans down and gives you a soft slow kiss, his hands running up your sides. He feels you smile as you pull away. 

“I love you too Keigo. You’ll always be a hero to me.” You grin up at him before giving him a hard poke in the side. He flinches hard. 

“Hey! You know I’m ticklish.” 

“Come on hot shot, We have a press conference to get to.” 

You saunter out of the room and all Hawks can think about is how lucky he is to have you. 

[danihawks]

Let Me Go!!

Dabi was in a shadowed alley on a dark Saturday night, he was bored so he was there to burn some shit. However he used all his fire, he was tired out, he watched the glow of the burning dumpster in front of him. He watched the bright blue flames as they consumed the dumpster garbage and the dumpster itself. After a couple minutes he decided it was about time to leave. After all, he did have to go meet a potential new league member, the number two pro hero, or so he thought, Hawks.

He had informed Hawks to bring him the dead body of a hero to prove his loyalty. But Dabi had his suspicions that the new villain might be more heroic than he thought. Just as he got up to leave the alley he felt his shirt collar tightened and hacked as he was picked up of the ground. It was the pro hero Endeavor, Enji, his father. The damned hero must have been attracted by the fire, like a moth to a flame. "I'll cremate you!!" "let me go!!!" Dabi shouted. "Cremate me villain? Seems to me as though your out of fire power for now, pathetic villain." Endeavor scoffed. "I'm warning you, you don't wanna be doing this, let me go" Dabi protested struggling against the familiar hero's grip. Endeavor only scoffed at this, "Name one reason I would let you go." It was silent for a moment as Dabi considered how he would respond. He couldn't exactly tell him he was Touya... not yet. He was going to meet Hawks, Hawks worked closely with Endeavor in hero work... Dabi blurted the first thing that came to his mind still struggling against his grip, he would get out of this, even if he had to lie his way out. "Because I'm dating your hero partner, Hawks!" Endeavor's grip faltered a bit shocked by what he had just heard from the villains mouth, Dabi was able to break free from his grip and run. He did it, he was home free, his identity a secret still... for now... and he was still on track to eventually enact revenge on his father, family, and the corrupt hero society. Endeavor just stood in the alley silently as he watched the villain get away. "Hawks?" he repeated aloud to himself. The next morning Endeavor was in his office on his lunch break from his hero agency. That's when the unsuspecting victim walked in. "Heeeeeey yooooo, Endeavor San, I got us bagels." Endeavor nodded signaling for Hawks to close the door behind him and take a seat in front of his desk. Hawks cocked his head, something didn't seem right, he was confused but he sat down anyway placing the bagel box to the side of Endeavor's desk. "Whats up?" Hawks asked. Endeavor paused for a moment considering how to phrase his question. "...Hawks," he paused, "Are you..... seeing? anyone?" Keigo smiled jokingly, "Wow there big guy, I admire you but you're not exactly my type y'know, the age difference, I just don't think it would work out," Hawks shrugged playfully, giving his mischievously playful hero smile. Endeavor looked away a bit uncomfortable as he knew that Hawks knew fully well that, that was not what he meant, he was a married man after all, he hated how his partner could be so childish sometimes. "You know that isn't what a meant," Endeavor said taking a bagel. "Well than what did you mean?" Hawks asked a bit curious now as he nibbled on his own bagel. "I almost captured the villain Dabi yesterday," Endeavor began. "Oh yeah, so what happened, was the big bad number one not able to catch him?" Hawks teased... as he always did. "No, actually, he slipped away after informing me that he was dating the number two hero," Endeavor said a bit more sternly glaring at Hawks. Hawks blushed for a minute as that was NOT what he was expecting and it was anything but the truth, why didn't the villain inform him of this lie when he met with him to show him Jeanist yesterday night, and more importantly why did his cheeks feel hot? "Well?" Endeavor asked. Hawks burst out laughing almost falling out of the chair especially with the extra wait of his wing behind him. "Hahahaha, Endeavor San, now I know where that Shoto kid gets it from, best conspiracy theory ever," Hawks laughed making Endeavor feel a bit stupid as he was left alone in his office. Hawks continued laughing as he left his office closing the door behind him. What a fun morning this had turned out to be for him.

[aizawasprincess]

Get Your Shit Together (So I Can Love You)

Pairing: Hawks/Reader

Rating: T

Words: 1,119

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Tags/Warnings: One Shot, Gender Neutral Reader, Smidge of Angst, Double Agent Hawks, Implied League of Villains Work, Medical Procedures, Wounds, Reader Is Implied to Have Some Sort of Medical Training, Not Really Friends To Lovers But On the Cusp of It

Summary: Hawks shows up at your door wounded and unwilling to explain how he got that way. Again. You know he’s up to something bad, something dangerous, but all you can do is put him back together again and wish things were different.

A/N: AAAHHH JESUS FUCK A GIANT SPIDER JUST RAN ACROSS MY CHEST WHILE I WAS CREATING THIS POST

Okay. Okay. I’m alright. It’s good. Everything’s fine.

Anyway so this is a fic I wrote a couple years ago after suddenly waking up in the middle of the night only to type it and pass promptly back out once it was finished. I was going through my fics to go back and start working on another older one when I saw this, re-read it, and decided to post it.

On TV, Hawks always seemed sort of… small. Zipping through the skies so fast the eye could barely catch him. Or standing between the mountain that was Endeavor and the lean height that was Best Jeanist. But now, standing in your living room at 2am, Hawks seems larger than life.

You blink owlishly up at him as he steps through the threshold of your door after offering little more than a “hey, kid, sorry it’s so late, but can I come in?”

He was the number two hero, you certainly weren’t going to tell him no.

“Keigo, wh-“ You stop short as you glance over him and notice red staining the lining of his jacket. A moment of panic bursts through you, and you squeal out a distressed “Keigo!” before settling into work mode.

You grasp his arm firmly and guide him into your bathroom, settling him on the toilet, always careful of his wings, before digging under your sink for medical supplies.

“Do I even want to know?” You ask as you help him out of the jacket and then shirt, assessing the damage. He gives you one of his signature cheeky grins, but you can see it’s strained with pain. He’s got a long gash running from his ribcage to his hip, and it looks deep.

“Probably not.”

You sigh. “And why are you darkening my doorstep at two in the morning instead of at the hospital?”

You’re sure you already know the answer. This is confirmed when you look up and his face has turned grim.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

You allow frustration to leak into your voice. “I know you won’t tell me that.”

“Look, kid-“

You hear pleading in his voice, but you ignore it and hold up your hand, interrupting him. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, this is bad, and it looks like it needs stitches, which I am not trained to do.”

“But you know how to do them anyway,” he says with a lopsided smile, “and really, who needs a hospital when I’ve got the best nurse in the world right here?” You give him a disparaging look and go to scrub your hands.

Grabbing some antiseptic, you begin cleaning his wound. He hisses and you see his stomach muscles flex as it stings, but you don’t stop. If he was going to play stupid games, he was going to win painful prizes.

“This is going to hurt worse, you know.” You pull suturing supplies from your kit and he grimaces knowingly and nods.

He’s being uncharacteristically quiet, and you stop threading the needle momentarily to look him over. He’s looking away from you, staring into your shower. Even still, you can see exhaustion clinging to him, purple crescents stamped under his eyes and visible despite his eyeliner. A small sigh escapes your nostrils and he glances up at you.

“Here,” you say, and your voice seems too loud to you, echoing off the walls, “brace yourself on me, and I’ll try to make this as quick as possible so we can get some ibuprofen in you.”

You finish threading the needle and grab his hands, placing them on your hips. His grip is light at first, almost tentative, and he doesn’t look you in the eye. Which is fine, because just now, in the quiet of your bathroom, you’ve noticed how intimate this has become, and you can’t meet his gaze either. You set to the task at hand, and his grip tightens considerably.

Once you finally finish, you carefully clean up the remaining blood and bandage him up. You finally let your gaze drift to his face, and find he’s already looking at you. You’re both quiet for a moment. You search his eyes for anything at all that might give a hint as to what he’s thinking. You do not find it, but do find yourself falling into those pools of liquid gold.

You realize he’s still holding onto your hips when his grip tightens. His touch burns you through your pajamas.

“Kid…” his voice trails off, and you suddenly realize how close you are as his eyes trail down your face.

A sudden crash from the living room makes you jump away, almost guiltily, and then neither of you can look at each other anymore. You don’t even investigate the noise; you can hear the bell on your cat’s collar jingle as she runs away from the scene of whatever crime she just committed. You turn to your medical kit and briskly put everything away, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” you say, putting the kit back under the sink, “and then you can crash on the couch.”

You start to walk away, but his grip on your wrist stops you. You look back at him questioningly. The look on his face is intense- far more intense than the carefree hero persona he usually dons.

“Thank you. For everything. You know I- I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

Your eyes soften, and you twist your arm until you’re holding his hand. “Of course. I’m here any time you need me.”

You squeeze his hand gently, and then go off to find the pair of sweats and t-shirt you keep just for nights like this. Back in the bathroom, you help him to get the shirt on around his wound and his wings, and then leave to let him finish changing.

You’re just finishing setting up the couch when you feel a presence behind you. You turn your head slightly and then jump out of your skin when you see that he is right next to you. You mutter a curse and give him a look. “I’m going to put a bell on you, just like the cat.”

He grins, and you help him settle onto the couch. Glancing at the clock, you realize it’s now nearing four in the morning. He follows your gaze and looks guilty.

“I guess I should really let you go back to sleep now. I really am sorry for waking you.”

You shake your head. “You should get some sleep. You need rest if you want that to heal. I’m going to stay here for a while and watch you to make sure you don’t die.”

You make him take some over-the-counter pain meds, and sit down next to the couch to watch him as he falls asleep.

He wakes several hours later to your head on your arms on the couch next to him, fast asleep. He can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face as he reaches an arm out to rest his hand on your head.

[of-worms-and-fibers]

Wrong Body

Shinya and Tsunagu get hit by a body swap quirk and Shinya HATES it Fluff, Angst with good ending, comfort, trans Shinya, ask Word count: 1100

„Shit, Edgeshot?!“

Jeanist cursed, looking for his husband on the battlefield; in one of the most annoying fights of his career. None of the villains were particularly dangerous, just a group of pranksters with annoying quirks that did nothing but pose semi-mild inconveniences. Hell, calling it a “battlefield” felt ridiculous, it was more like a circus. Some of the heroes were stuck quacking like ducks while others had been made to dance the macarena. It would have been almost funny if the group hadn’t been so active lately, bothering civilians greatly. 

“Jeanist, I’m here!” 

The other called out, and he hurried to where the voice had come from; finding Edge fully alright, albeit a little annoyed looking, among a small group of more heroes who had managed to avoid getting hit by any of the quirks so far.

Jeanist breathed deeply in relief, going to hug Edgeshot briefly; too slow as the rest of the group shouted a warning and jumped aside; a fuzzy shiver ran all over his body, and when he opened his eyes; he wasn’t sure what was wrong at first. He felt the same, didn’t dance or make strange noises. 

“Oh my god Tsunagu-“

Edgeshot exclaimed, and hearing his real name in a battle situation like this could only mean bad news.

“What is it?”

He asked, but immediately noticed what it was; his voice didn’t sound right. Now that he thought of it, his body didn’t feel right. Jeanist almost didn’t want to do it, but he slowly patted his body down, feeling his hips and chest to be far softer than they were supposed to be. In a panicked motion, he reached for his hair, relieved that at least that hadn’t changed. And so he returned his gaze to Edgeshot, who was clearly a lot less calm about it; screaming silently on the inside while uncomfortably tucking at his clothes, trying to cover up the silhouette of his body; a body Tsunagu had seen, years ago, before Shinya’s transition.

But there was nothing for now that could be done about it. Gang Orca sent them home, to see if the quirk would lift overnight and so the two could do nothing but obey his suggestion.

“Okay. We’re physically girls now. We have to stay calm. Why is my voice so annoying?!”

“Welcome to my life.”

Shinya replied bitterly, wrapping a blanket around himself. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with the situation and sensitive to everything about it. Tsunagu brought the dinner, sitting down by the other’s side: 

“You know it doesn’t change anything to me right? You’re no less of a man, even if this predicament is making you feel dysphoric again.”

He said, sitting a bit away from the other, knowing how uncomfortable he was right now. Shinya didn’t eat much at all, and it worried the blonde:

“We should still have your binders, right? I don’t think we got rid of them. I can look for

them, but you need to promise not to wear them to sleep again.”

Shinya merely nodded, and with a kiss on his forehead, Tsu disappeared into the basement. An hour passed, then two until he finally came back:

“Sorry, I got distracted by old clothes. Look at this dress I found!”

He said, showing off a pretty dress he used to wear a lot. It looked even better with his hopefully temporary, more feminine features and he felt gorgeous. Two binders were promptly dropped on Shinya’s lap:

“I sewed little ninja patches on.”

A small smile finally crept on the grey-haired one’s face, which was quickly replaced by tears and a hug; this wasn’t a new sight. But one neither of them had expected again. After hormones and surgeries and a lengthy social transition, they had thought it was over. But of course, life was cruel. It always was with the job they’d taken on, but this was beyond any of that. This wasn’t about getting hurt or dying. This was so much more personal, to both Shinya and himself.

It felt like a setback of years and years of progress and it… frankly, it hurt. Tsu knew that he wasn’t the one having any right to feel hurt, but he did, because he knew he couldn’t do anything but assure and reaffirm his husband. Husband, that’s what he’d always stay no matter what anyone could ever do or say.

“I don’t think I want to have…”

The ninja enthusiast started but Tsunagu just shook his head with a soft smile:

“I know, we don’t have to do anything tonight or until this is over. Don’t you worry about that at all. I’m sure it will be over soon.”

It wasn’t over soon. A week passed, then two, and the two of them were getting increasingly worried. Visiting Kugo a lot, and a quirk specialist who couldn’t tell them more than 

“It’s probably temporary.”

And probably wasn’t good enough. So the panic lasted for a whole month until one morning, the blonde was startled awake by a sudden scream from Shinya, who had come back early in the morning from a night shift:

“I’m normal again!”

With a quick pat down, the blonde assured himself of his own return to normalcy and breathed out in relief. He went to the bathroom, where the love of his life stood half undressed by the mirror.

“Oh thank god. I did like the hips though.”

“Your hips were the only good thing about this whole ordeal. Ugh, I thought I'd have to go through hormones and surgeries again I am not not showering for a week again!” 

Tsunagu laughed, finally able to cuddle Shinya again, after a whole month of needing to be careful about it to not make him uncomfortable:

“Haha no never again. Glad to see your smile again, I missed it.”

He said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face to cup his cheek; the gleam in his eyes was back. The confidence. The smile. The relief. It was all too wonderful to see. He was wonderful to see. Handsome and happy, how he was meant to be. 

“You’re the most beautiful man on this planet, do you know that Shinya?”

“Oh? Strange because I always thought you were.”

They laughed, deeply in love with each other. As they calmed down, only a small chuckle remained as the grey-haired man found his passion to joke again:

“Ryukyu is going to be so disappointed.”

“Oh yeah? She should be happy I’m even sharing you my little worm~”

With that, they continued getting ready for yet another day of hero work, as if nothing had happened, with a refreshed acceptance of whatever it may bring. Because at the end of the day, no matter what could happen, the most important thing was that they had each other.

[stillness-in-green]

Project Update/Survey of Interest: The AFO Retcon Essay

Having cleared out the inbox, I thought I'd let everyone know where I am on one of the big projects I've been alluding to for a long while now, the big meta post/essay arguing that the possession plot (and therefore AFO as primary endgame villain) is, in so many words, a big stupid retcon. That essay is - for reasons I'll get into shortly - on the brink of a major change in focus, so I'd also like to gauge how much interest people have in its potential new form. Because it would be another huge one, make no mistake.

(Hit the jump.)

So, I recently started dabbling with a new word processor program and thought I'd try learning the ropes with the retcon essay; I then spent the better part of two weeks combing through chatlogs and my blog archive trying to compile all the evidence I'd want to consider to make that argument. Two nights ago, I looked at the list I had - almost fifty bullet points! - and had the horribly demoralizing realization that...

...You guys, I just don't think I believe it anymore.

Now, that's not to say I've come around on the possession plot, because I definitely haven't! Rather, my trust in Horikoshi as a writer has been so badly eroded by the state of the writing in the endgame that I no longer think even the earlier material is reliable evidence for where the story was going.

To pick the most prominent example, I always regarded AFO telling Best Jeanist at Kamino that his quirk "wouldn't suit Tomura" as one of my strongest pieces of evidence that the possession plot had not been in the cards at that time. After all, who in hell cares what quirks would or would not suit Tomura if AFO's plan, as stated in Chapter 380, was that he would wholly subsume Tomura's will?

Now, however - and Chapter 380 is a big part of this, too! - I look back on that moment and just think, wearily, "Was that ever true, or was Horikoshi just lying to us already, and the only difference between then and now is that back then the lies could hold for hundreds of chapters, whereas now they're revealed within a matter of pages?"

A chat friend letting me vent suggested that perhaps the line was just intended to foreshadow Shigaraki getting All For One (and therefore all the quirks held within it) and Horikoshi just didn't think through all the implications AFO's phrasing had on how that plot was going to go. That may be true, and it's a more generous read than I could muster at the time, but the end result is the same: If I can't trust that the writing was ever an accurate reflection of the characters and their intentions, I can't in good faith construct an argument relying on that writing.

What I think I can do, however, if people are interested, is broaden the overall thrust to something much bigger than just AFO.

I'm currently toying with the idea of a treatise-in-four-parts about the problems in the endgame. Each part would cover one major branch of related issues - they might need to be broken down into sub-parts themselves, if they run long enough! The whole thing would likely be much longer and more involved than my chapter posts; think something more like the PLF mass arrest essay. Following are my current ideas for how those four parts would fall out, as well as some example talking points for each:

Part 1: Shigaraki and the PLF. Would cover Shigaraki as a villain and what he and the forces he'd amassed circa the end of My Villain Academia stood to bring to the endgame, both ideologically and tactically. Would also cover where they actually wound up and some considerations as to why.           Example Subpoints: Demanding accountability from Hero Society rather than just focusing blame on singular evils; Shigaraki as representative of all previous Villains; the MLA's shift in portrayal between MVA and the endgame; the ludicrous string of nerfs Toga was subjected to; whether the MLA was only ever intended to be a mass of numbers to whittle down the equally massive numbers of the Heroes or whether they were reduced to that after poor reader reception.

Part 2: All For One's Impact. Would focus on the sharp drop in moral complexity AFO both suffered himself compared to his pre-Tartarus characterization and inflicted on the endgame both himself and with the caliber of minions he brought to the story.           Example Subpoints: AFO's inconsistent characterization; the moral reductiveness of the Demon Lord as endgame Villain; AFO and Yoichi's personal history; Vestige mechanics; the impact of AFO's inconsistency on Ujiko's portrayal; the Sekoto Peak Problem; the characterization and handling of the Tartarus escapees.

Part 3: Team Hero Is The Fucking Worst. Would focus on the multitudinous problems with the presentation and methodologies of the Heroes in the endgame. Might be two parts if it gets long enough that I decide to split it up into, like, one part on the adults/Pro Heroes and one on the kids or something.           Example Subpoints: The story's bad faith attempts to portray agents of government authority as scrappy, determined underdogs; why it's impossible to believe that the current heroic cast will be able to enact a satisfying resolution to all the structural problems the story has raised; That Stupid Fucking Mech Fight; the constant refusal to let consequences stick to the Heroes; the way the story both undercuts and oversells Deku as a protagonist, and the impact that has on the broader narrative; One For All and more Vestige Mechanics; The Problem of Hawks; the hospital riot; the Todoroki family's inaction.

Part 4: Other Issues. A catch-all area for anything else I trip over that doesn't fit in any of the categories above, or problems of a more meta-narrative sort.           Very Preliminary Example Subpoints: The lazy portrayal of civilian characters; meta-narrative examples of the unreliability of BNHA's late-stage writing, from simple errors overlooked in the highly demanding grind of Shonen Jump serialization to the much more damning abuse of the reader's expectations of the comic medium; idk probably lots of other stuff, I Have Many Problems.

That said, I now have to ask, how interested are you all in a project like that? A fair amount of it would be recycled from my chapter posts, but obviously it would cover stuff I never got to in those, and would be able to be written with more hindsight (especially if it's written mostly or entirely after the series ends!), as opposed to the constant problem of reacting to the story week-to-week.

I basically stopped writing the chapter posts for reasons of incessant negativity, and obviously, this would be more of that, but I mind the negativity a lot less when it's A) able to be more comprehensive and focused than meandering and piecemeal and B) in the form of a large project I can work on as I have the energy for it rather than a brand new project every single week. And, as I trust stuff like MVA In Memoriam and On Heteromorphobia make clear, I do like the idea of putting together a good, comprehensive, easy-to-reference tract on all those problems, as opposed to just letting my issues remain scattered across multiple years of chapter thoughts and bnha critical tags!

That said, it's a big project, and I do vent about these issues pretty constantly with chat and irl friends, so if there's not much interest from followers here, I would not find it hard to just let the whole thing go and turn my eyes to less intimidating fare instead.

(Current other projects include the usual roster of BNHA fic, another mid-length meta piece in the mode of the BNHA vs. Helck comparison from a while back, this time on Mamoru Hosoda's Belle, and a horrible temptation to try and write something thoughtful and even-handed about demons in Frieren: Beyond Journey's End to combat the reductive-ass takes on both sides of the argument I've been seeing all over the internet since its anime started. Also, every week I go without seeing a single damn MachtxGluck fanfic on AO3 is a week I get closer to trying to figure out a way into writing it myself.)

Do let me know! Also, feel free to chip in with anything you'd like to see me specifically talk about in an endgame analysis!

[selmasemlan]

A Fight for Humanity

Summary: The war has started and every shot matters

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x Luna Aizawa (OFC)

Author note: I love and hate this part of the story

Warning: mention of war, spoilers of season 7

Word count: 1373

Series masterlist

A Fight for Humanity

The war plan had been precise and methodical, designed to keep Shigaraki from wreaking havoc. Monoma Neito had copied Kurogiri’s quirk, providing a crucial edge. The goal was simple: isolate Shigaraki and ensure Midoriya faced him alone, where One For All could make a difference. But, as plans often do, this one had gone awry. At the last second, Midoriya had been sucked into the wrong portal, leaving Bakugo, Luna, Suneater, Nejire, Mirko, Edgeshot, and Best Jeanist to keep Shigaraki at bay in the flying fortress.

Luna positioned herself high above the chaos in a sniper’s perch, hidden in the debris of the floating structures. Her heart was steady despite the carnage below. Her secret weapon—10 specialized bullets, a tool she had only hinted at in previous battles—was ready. Each one was meticulously crafted for a single target: Shigaraki. But he wasn’t alone. Aizawa and Monoma stood just outside the battlefield, their eyes locked on the monster before them, relentlessly canceling Shigaraki’s quirks.

The strain was palpable. Shigaraki’s body was far from ordinary—a horrifying mixture of flesh and power, twisted and altered by experiments to create the perfect vessel for All For One’s will. His quirk suppression was only temporary; his body was adapting, the quirks trying to push past the binds placed on them by Aizawa and Monoma. Neither dared blink, knowing that a moment of hesitation could lead to complete devastation.

"Don't let up!" Aizawa barked, his voice hoarse but sharp with urgency. His hair hung in wild strands, and his normally stoic composure was beginning to crack. Sweat beaded down his face, and his eyes were bloodshot from holding Shigaraki's quirk at bay. Every fiber of his being was focused on suppressing the onslaught of power within Shigaraki, but there was more on his mind than just the battle. His sister, Luna, was out there, risking everything.

From his vantage point, Aizawa caught glimpses of Luna moving like a ghost through the wreckage, her sniper rifle glinting in the fragmented light of the fortress. She was silent and focused. His heart clenched. He had always been protective of her, even after their paths had diverged into different branches of hero work. Now, as her adoptive brother, he felt the crushing weight of fear gnawing at him—a fear he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Meanwhile, Bakugo was a maelstrom of explosions below, each blast of his palms sending shockwaves through the already crumbling fortress. His eyes darted up to where Luna was perched, the fear for her safety barely contained beneath his usual scowl. She was like a sister to him—a constant, unwavering presence throughout their time together. He trusted her and respected her like no one else, but the thought of losing her twisted a knot in his gut.

“Damn it, Luna!” Bakugo’s voice crackled through the earpiece, his rage palpable. “What the hell are you waiting for? Take the shot!”

“I’m working on it, Kacchan,” Luna replied, her voice calm, though her heart was pounding. She adjusted her aim, searching for that fleeting moment of vulnerability.

“Keep it together, everyone,” Aizawa's gravelly voice broke in through the comms, though there was an undercurrent of tension in his tone. "We have to wear him down. Stay focused."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Luna saw her chance. Best Jeanist had caught Shigaraki with his threads, binding his arms and holding him in place for a split second. Luna’s eyes narrowed, her finger squeezing the trigger.

BANG!

The bullet cut through the air, a perfect shot aimed at Shigaraki’s chest. But just as it was about to hit, Shigaraki twisted his body in an almost impossible way, his raw strength tearing through the threads. The bullet missed by mere inches, embedding itself into the debris behind him.

“Shit!” Luna cursed, quickly reloading. She couldn’t afford to miss another shot—there were only nine left.

From the battlefield below, Shigaraki’s crimson eyes locked onto Luna’s position. His twisted smile grew wider as he raised his hand toward the building where she was perched.

From her vantage point, Luna locked her sights on Shigaraki. Her finger rested gently on the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment. The battlefield was chaotic, but she was patient. She had trained for this—no distractions, no hesitation. Her first bullet missed its mark, glancing off a piece of debris as Shigaraki’s erratic movements threw off her aim. Cursing softly, Luna adjusted her position. She had nine shots left.

Below, Shigaraki's body jerked, spasming under the suppression. His lips curled into a grotesque grin. "You think this will last?" His voice was distorted, almost inhuman, as he lashed out with a surge of raw power, his body shifting unnaturally. Aizawa and Monoma flinched, their combined efforts struggling to contain the quirk’s resurgence.

"Luna, now!" Aizawa’s voice cracked, a rare break in his composure. His shout echoed across the battlefield, a mixture of desperation and command.

Luna heard him and steadied her breath. She lined up her shot once more, this time aiming for the split second when Shigaraki’s movements would be predictable. The trigger pressed beneath her finger.

But before the bullet could reach its mark, the building around her groaned under the strain of the ongoing battle. Without warning, it collapsed, sending her and the sniper perch plummeting down in a cascade of debris. For a horrifying moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Bakugo's heart stopped. He saw the crumbling structure before anyone else, his mind racing. “LUNA!” His voice ripped through the air as he charged toward the wreckage, explosions erupting in his wake. His anger flared brighter, fueled not by the battle but by fear—fear that he had lost her. He unleashed a torrent of energy, his fury palpable as he confronted Shigaraki with reckless abandon.

Bakugo’s rage reached a crescendo as he pushed through, launching himself directly at Shigaraki, who was still thrashing under the suppression. Luna couldn’t be gone. Not like this.

Shigaraki's laugh broke the moment as his body convulsed again, struggling to overcome the suppression.

Aizawa’s eyes burned, but his grip on Shigaraki’s power tightened, the flicker of fear for his sister now channeled into sheer resolve. He couldn’t protect her physically, but he would make sure Shigaraki never laid a hand on her.

"Don’t stop, Luna," Aizawa muttered under his breath, his voice too quiet for anyone but himself to hear. "I’m still here."

“I’ll blast you to pieces, you bastard!”

But even as Bakugo pushed himself beyond his limits, Shigaraki’s twisted grin never faltered. The villain easily dodged Bakugo’s attacks, his Decay eating away at the ground around him.

Amid the chaos, a voice crackled over Bakugo’s earpiece. Faint but unmistakable.

“Kacchan... calm down.”

Bakugo’s breath hitched, his body freezing mid-attack. His wild eyes darted to the collapsed building. There, emerging from the dust, was Luna. She was bruised, her uniform torn, but alive. Her sniper rifle was slung across her back, her expression focused despite the pain in her limbs.

Luna, forcing herself to stand, wiped the blood from her face and gripped her rifle once more. Seven bullets left. The fight wasn’t over.

“You idiot!” Bakugo shouted, relief mixing with his anger. “I thought you were—”

“No time for that,” Luna interrupted, wiping dirt from her face as she ran to reposition herself. “I’m not done yet. We’ve still got a job to do.”

Bakugo watched as Luna limped toward her new perch, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions—relief, anger, and a fierce determination to protect her no matter what.

“Luna,” he muttered, quieter this time, “don’t you dare pull a stunt like that again.”

Luna gave him a small, weary smile through the scope of her rifle. “I’ll try not to. Now, let’s finish this.”

With renewed resolve, Luna took aim once more. This time, she wouldn’t miss. She lined up the shot, watching as Shigaraki’s guard dropped ever so slightly as he engaged with the others. This was her moment.

“Bakugo, keep him distracted,” Luna instructed, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

“On it,” Bakugo replied, launching himself back into the fray.

Luna’s finger tightened on the trigger. This shot had to count.