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Bakugo Katsuki - Blog Posts
It’s that time again
I’ve been on an mha binge and now I’m here to tell you why I believe Katsuki Bakugou is neurodivergent >:)
Number 1!
Look at this man. You can’t handle the uber instincts of his uber autism
2. He DESPISES being touched. Like to the ENTH degree he will either avoid it or squirm
3. He’s very blunt. Always says what he’s thinking no matter if it’s rude or not. He does not consider ANYONE ELSES opinion but his own. Like when the Todoroki siblings invited him and Midoriya for dinner and talked about family drama, dude did NOT let that slide (good for him)
3. Bro is ass at communicating. Even though he’s a very skilled fighter, he doesn’t tell what he’s doing until it’s done most of the time unless he really needs the other students to work with him.
4. When things don’t go his way, he freaks out. One of the most prominent moments this happens is season 1 where he was facing Midoriya and lost. Man had a PANIC ATTACK from that.
5. He’s an All Might NERRRRRD /hj
6. His relationship with Kirishima is very unique compared to the others. It’s giving off “comfort person” vibes. I personally think they’re boyfriends but take that as you will!
That’s all I have for now! If I left out anything feel free to comment :D until next time!
Edit from like a year later lol:
Something I forgot to mention is that neurodivergence is a spectrum and can be presented in many different ways! Everyone is different!
Also specifying I’m neurodivergent and I still very much stand by the fact that Bakugou is in some way neurodivergent, but I don’t want to cause any harmful views of people who are neurodivergent. No one has called me out or anything but I’m oh so paranoid and want to be sure I’m representing my community well!
I’ve been back and forth with taking this post down, but have decided to just reword some things that came off in a way I didn’t intend. If I caused any harm by this post please let me know and I’ll be sure to take action to correct it 🙏
Thank you for coming to my ted talk, hope you have a wonderful day 🫶
what it takes
pairing: todobaku (todoroki shouto/bakugou katsuki)
words: 4,527 (ongoing) | chapters: 1/? | tags: fwb, eventual smut, idiots to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college age AU
“Wait, you’ll help me?” He didn’t expect this development at all. “Stop making me repeat it before I change my mind,” Bakugou grumbles. "Oh. Okay." Shouto blushes, but he's not sure why. "But that's what you mean, right? That you would sleep with me if I asked?" "Say it one more time and I'll throttle you." - Todoroki Shouto, the son of Number Two Pro Hero Endeavor, is stressed. Bakugou Katsuki can help.
katsuki refusing to leave shouto behind and shouto being like “but why are you still here, bakugou 🥺” lives in my head rent free
i’m fucking crying
happer brothday bagglegou
Fainted.... 📜📗📘📙📚
𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑
[Bakugou Katsuki]
[NSFW]
Reblog | Comment | Enjoy, ig
Warning! Rough sex. Raw sex. Multiple rounds sex. Missionary sex. Teasing sex. Short sex. Sex.
He's been waiting long. Too long. He received a prize for winning No Nut November, but the relief he got from pounding into you topped it all.
You moaned, groaned, and called out his name. Nearly breaking your back in an arch. Nearly losing sight because of how tightly you kept your eyes shut.
Ruthlessly mixing your organs into jelly, rearranging your entire anatomy. You were his to claim after an agonizingly long month of being teased, tested, and taunted.
"F- Fuck," he came again. Tears dammed at the overstimulation. His thumb never left your clit, constantly rubbing it in a contrasting manner to his rough thrusts.
Wearing his shirts. Cooking for him with nothing but an apron on. He was determined to win, for the sake of his pride. He never missed a chance to help you out with your needs. Finger fucking you senselessly. He won, eventually, at the end of November.
It had been a very long month for his poor desires. Ever since he had you on the counter, floor, shower, bed, or wherever he thought it best to fuck you dry.
Your tits bounced at his rhythm. One leg draped over his shoulder while the other was still shaking from your most recent orgasm.
Whoever says missionary isn't hot just hasn't done it with the right person. Looking into each other's eye. Seeing everything you're doing to the whimpering man. How he thrusted his cock deep inside of you.
It edged you on to cum again. Round after round. Until the condoms were done and he fucked you raw. The bed shook and screeched under both your weight.
His breaths were rigid, and he struggled keeping pace. You shut your eyes tightly and gripped onto the sheets beside you. A few final pounds and he let out animalistic moans. Your voice was hoarse at the number of times you called out his name. "Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki!"
He pulled his dick out and grinned breathlessly at his seed dripping from your bullied cunt.
His lips dipped down and kissed you lovingly. Butterfly kisses planted themselves on all your hickies and bruises and love bites. He muttered inaudible assurances of how much you meant to him. How much he needed you. How much he loved you.
You held his face above yours and stared longingly into his pretty red eyes. It made you smile. Then, you started to laugh.
"How many rounds did we do?" You chuckled as he fell to the bed beside you. You cuddled closer to him.
"Nowhere near enough to make up for all the shit you've been giving me," he referred to all the teasing, testing, and taunting.
You pecked his cheek. "We've got our work cut out for us, huh?"
© all content belongs to estjbeaver '22. do not modify or repost.
Mainstream
Bakugou
Now this is a fairy tale...3:)
A Dragon’s Bride
Dragon Prince! Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Fae Princess! Reader
Fanstasy AU
***18+ Fic***
If you are not 18 years old, you are not old enough to ride. Please exit the line and find another. Thank you and have a good day.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, soft to rough sex, light fluff. Characters are aged up, Bakugo and reader are the same age.
Word Count: 4.7k
Author’s Note: So I had this idea after reading other fantasy AU fics, and I just really wanted a soft Bakugo. I know he’s an angry moody mf but idgaf aight? I didn’t wanna get super descriptive with the smut, just cause I wanted it to be more like ‘lovemaking’ than just sex, you feel me? Sorry if the pace is a little weird, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on this lmao. Anyway, here’s dragon boi Bakubitch.
Enjoy the read~
Keep reading
transmasc bakugou x transmasc reader where they just help themselves through period dysphoria?
☆ sugar, spice & everything nice
ftm ! katsuki bakugo x ftm reader [he / him]
sypnosis : above !
the lowercase is intentional !
katsuki had been grumbling away in his dorm room all day. people noticed as they walked past, but they didn't say anything. they were too scared of him, afraid that they might get blown up by his quirk or even worse. nobody dared walk into katsuki's room, or even stay by his door for a second too long.
in reality, katsuki was acting like this because he was on his period. whilst being on his period, a massive amount of dysphoria just suddenly dropped it's load on him. it was always like this when he was on his period. he just always wished it would go away. too bad he wasn't on testosterone yet.
a knock was then heard on katsuki's door, followed by a voice. "hey, katsuki! open up!" [name] said on the other side of the door, being persistent with his knocking. he then groaned, getting ready to leave as his boyfriend wasn't opening the door. and, as if by coincidence, the door swings open and katsuki drags [name] inside.
"i guess it's safe to say you've started too, huh?" [name] said as he got dragged inside, a small chuckle following his words. katsuki just glared at [name] and lead him to the bed so they could lay down together.
katsuki groaned once more as he reached the bed. he wrapped his arms around [name]'s waist, pulling him close before resting his hands on [name]'s waist. the heat from his palms were soothing for [name]'s cramps. he was glad his boyfriend had his quirk at times, other times he wasn't so glad. such as the times where katsuki threatened to blow him up the last time he was on his period.
"this thing is so stupid. why do i have to have a stupid period when i'm not even a woman?" katsuki mumbled under his breath, clearly feeling frustrated and dysphoric about his situation. "sure, periods aren't what define a woman but whatever. this thing sucks, makes me feel like less of a guy." he continued to mutter, and [name] hummed along as he listened.
"at least when we both start going on t, our periods will stop. but, who knows how long that'll be." [name] responded, trying to sound hopeful but it was no use. katsuki still grumbled and moaned, even rolling his eyes at [name]'s comment. "yeah, and how long is it going to be that we'll be allowed to start?" the blonde boy huffed in response, a sigh escaping his lips.
the two of them stayed in silence for a little while, not saying anything. the sound of their breathing and slight shuffling around on the bed filled the room. that was before [name] decided to speak up once more.
"you know, even though we still get our 'shark week' every month, i still view you as a guy. even though we haven't started any hormone therapy or anything. you're still a man to me, and you're my boyfriend." [name] whispers softly, a small smile on his lips as he speaks. he wants katsuki to feel less dysphoric about his period, and reassure him at the same time. "plus, you're super manly." the boy chuckled, imitating kirishima.
katsuki rolled his eyes at [name]'s words. he really tried to hide how much they meant to him, but the small blush on his cheeks, the picking up of his heartbeat and the smile on his lips made it obvious that they meant a lot. "thanks, [name]." katsuki mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of [name]'s neck. "you're.. manly too. despite everything, we're still guys aren't we, huh? just two guys who bleed out every frickin' month." he grumbled under his breath.
for the both of them, having their periods did affect them. they were both trans so when their periods came they doubted their identities. however, with eachother, they got through it. every month. they didn't give up on eachother, nor did they give up for what they stood for too.
"how about we go eat some spicy noodles? i have the ones you like in my room. we can prepare them in the common room." [name] said, detangling himself from katsuki to sit up on the bed and shake him. "we can't spend all day sitting here like grumps. we'll stick to the bed." he continued to mumble and shake katsuki.
"spicy noodles? tch.. you do know me, huh?" katsuki chuckled softly, sitting up too and placing a quick peck on [name]'s lips. "i guess we're boyfriends for that reason though, aren't we?" he hummed, a small smirk on his lips before getting out of bed and making his way out of his dorm. [name] followed close behind, seeming to be in a better mood than his boyfriend who had his hand stuffed in his pockets and was grumbling the whole way.
the two finally got to the common room. on the way there, [name] picked up the noodles from his dorm and started preparing them. katsuki started chopping up some vegetables to add to the noodles, as well as boiling an egg. once the noodles were finished, katsuki added his toppings and let [name] add some too. the two then sat on the couch together, eating their noodles.
"we're always here for eachother, aren't we?" [name] said softly as he looked at katsuki. "no matter what. i mean, our cycles aren't synced too so." he added, wiggling his eyebrows. katsuki immediately shoved [name]'s face out of his view so he could finish chowing down on his noodles.
a few others went down to the common room and got some food for themselves. they were talking in their own groups and laughing. kaminari and kirishima came up to katsuki and [name], grinning at the two of them.
"seems like bakugo finally got out of his room!" kaminari commented with a laugh. katsuki glared at kaminari and almost got ready to use his quirk on the other boy. "and he's not grumbling too." kirishima added with a chuckle.
[name] looked at the two boys before looking over at katsuki. he smiled and pinched his cheek, a little coo escaping his lips. "it's because of me, isn't it?" [name] said with a small smirk. katsuki almost blew him up too.
kirishima and kaminari decided to back off. they went over to other members of the class, occasionally looking back at katsuki and [name] with a chuckle.
"i love you." [name] whispered, ruffling katsuki's hair gently. "my handsome boyfriend, my manly man." he said, obviously teasing the blonde. katsuki just rolled his eyes and scoffed at [name]. "yeah, yeah. whatever. i love you too." he mumbled, eating his noodles.
the two of them then shared the same routine throughout their next cycles. comforting words, spicy food and laughs with their friends. it was perfect, and it helped both of them get their minds off of their period and their dysphoria.
author's note : hope you guys enjoy this ! again, sorry for posting so slowly. i'm just on holiday so i've been relaxing more. i will try and get requests out and more things though! keep requesting ! <3
- navigation : masterlist : request
Holy bloody shit. After two months, the story outline is officially done. (100 pages of pure, torturing notes)
Please tell me I'm not the only one who needs this many details before writing?
Smoke. It carves the air, swirling through the sparks of floating embers. Katsuki Bakugou watches from his back, blinking slowly. Beautiful, he would typically think of the stars. He is disappointed—the stars are not out. Smoke has covered the entire sky.
His body trembles. Fingertips dig into the wet earth beneath him, sticky with mud and red. A fire crackles nearby, its heat licking his torn uniform, his exposed skin. His chest shudders violently, air slipping in shallow, painful gasps. Each inhale needles his lungs, drags fresh flames through his ribcage. He bites down on a cry as his nails scrape against the ground. His abdomen pulses sharply. Warmth pools beneath him.
Move. Some instinct screams at him. Stand up.
Katsuki’s teeth clench, grinding against the primal urge to stay down. He forces himself to his elbows. A low groan escapes his throat as he rises to his knees, his hand clamping over the gaping wound in his waist. Something inside shifts—grinds—but he doesn’t stop. The pain folds in on itself as he stands, staggering. His vision tunnels. The world tilts.
Above the smoke, a flash of green.
Izuku Midoriya—idiot, masochistic Deku—flies through the carnage, through the invisible stars and inferno, his body barely holding together. Katsuki can’t tear his eyes away. He is not stupid. He does not need to ask Izuku to know that these are the last few embers of One for All. He has witnessed it draining from him during lessons, in the longer breaks between sparring, the way Izuku’s body trembles as if holding much more than Katsuki’s weight on the training mat.
His fingers twitch, desperate for the explosions that would carry him up, push the other aside, and fight where he belongs at the front of danger. Save your quirk Deku, he’d spit. I got this. But his palms only spark faintly, skin cold, clammy. Useless.
The enemy lunges—massive, grotesque, a twisted nightmare of claws and sinew. Instead of targeting Izuku, its massive eyes land on Katsuki below.
Angry.
“You should be dead, boy,” the Nomu—the last one hidden after All for One’s downfall—shrieks from the air. Its wings pin against its body as it shoots through the smoke.
It is too fast, Katsuki too slow.
Another green flash, this time directly in front of Katsuki.
He tries to yell a warning, but his voice breaks, ragged and weak.
Izuku doesn’t dodge.
The Nomu’s claws tear straight into Izuku’s chest. There is a sickening snap as the talons break through bone and muscle, flesh and fabric. Numb, Katsuki watches from behind. The monster roars, flaps its wings, and brings Izuku skyward. Five feet, ten, twenty. Rain begins to fall, red and thick, over Katsuki. He blinks up, and the rain splatters over his cheeks.
Not water. Not rain, his brain provides unhelpfully.
The claws release.
Izuku falls. The impact of his landing reverberates through the ground, shivers up Katsuki’s battered legs.
The Nomu howls laughter.
Katsuki stumbles forward.
“Stand up, idiot!”
His boots catch in the mud, his legs screaming. He watches the quiet, bleeding body on the battlefield, waits for green eyes to open with some stupid smirk beneath freckles leading the way to his next attack. It is such a common phenomenon, one that is so expected that Katsuki does not hesitate turning his back, eyes following the creature as it continues to laugh and circle from above. He waits for Izuku to grab his shoulder. He waits for whispering, a plan mumbled directly into his ear.
“It’s coming back,” he warns, posing as he would back-to-back with his partner.
It does not quite register that Izuku isn’t moving.
The rumbling, inhumane laughter stops briefly. Yellow eyes catch Katsuki again. “My my, I would have thought you’d at least mourn the death of a partner. You’re not much different from an emotionless Nomu, are you?”
Katsuki’s eyebrow twitches. “The fuck are you saying? No one is dead except you!”
The Nomu’s beak gapes, seemingly to smile with its sharp teeth. “Denial, I see. Trust me boy, your friend is not getting up.”
Katsuki’s brain cannot fathom what the monster is saying, so he does not try to. “Watch my back, Deku! I’m going in!”
The first explosion is weaker than he’d like, but it brings him high enough to collide with All for One’s last creation. He releases another blow directly at its face, yelling. The monster spews a surprised yawp and falls back. Katsuki waits for the follow-up attack, green lightning striking for a quick finish. But…it never comes.
Katsuki falls through the air, confused.
Where is Izuku?
When he lands on his feet, his ankles give out. He curses from the ground, glaring at the sky. Waiting. Where is the lightning? Where is their victory?
He makes the mistake of looking down.
Izuku’s body remains motionless several feet away, covered in dirt.
“Deku,” he calls out. “Do you copy?”
There is no response. He must have fallen asleep, the bastard.
Something irks inside Katsuki—an anger that is reserved for Izuku and his ass-making decisions. How could he fall unconscious in the middle of battle?
“Deku, get up you idiot.”
Still, quiet.
Creeping apprehension cuts deep through Katsuki’s brain.
“Oi, what are you doing? The villain is coming back!”
Denial denial denial.
He tries to stand, but collapses pathetically to his knees. He begins to crawl.
An obstacle, an impossibility that he cannot compute within his mind, seems to block his rational thoughts. He draws closer, closer to the sleeping boy.
But Izuku’s eyes are open.
Strange.
Izuku isn’t supposed to look like this.
Read the rest on Ao3, "The Last" (I'm too lazy to reformat all of it on Tumblr)
I made it back to Thailand today! More fics to *finally* come now that I'm free of family duties ((:
Here's a short snippet from another WIP (post-war, canonical):
Katsuki is wrapping his bruised knuckles when his cell phone chimes. He yanks on the cloth bandage with his teeth, tying the knot on his left hand, while he uses his elbow to tap the screen lying face-up on his glass coffee table. The phone blinks. Ochako’s voice cuts across his living room quietly.
“Bakugou?”
“Here,” he says, mouth full of cotton. “Make it quick. I have patrol in ten minutes.”
He finishes tying the bandage and moves on to his right hand.
“Yeah, sorry. I know you’re busy—I didn’t know who else to call. There’s an issue at one of my schools regarding a gang in your precinct.”
Katsuki lifts an eyebrow, though she can’t see it. His mouth is clear of any cloth when he answers, “You gotta be more specific. What’s going on?”
Katsuki is impressed—proud, even—of Ochako’s work in quirk counseling. He knows there must be some deeper meaning behind each of her overnight shifts, the reason she invests so much into each child born with an unpredictable quirk, but he is not close enough to ask her outright. But he is not stupid. He hears the whispers. He sees the crestfallen frown on Izuku’s face after every one of his conversations with Ochako, slumping as if he is holding up yet another stress on his back, a fissure of tension pulsing across his tender shoulder blades.
There is a ghost that haunts Ochako, a regret that Katsuki is not privy to.
Of all the people in the world, for reasons no one can quite articulate, Izuku is yet again the confidant of his ex-classmates—and Ochako slowly wraps herself around him, creeping and consuming, like a vine choking its host. It is not her fault; Katsuki knows that when Izuku’s persistence is strong enough, anyone would spill their deepest secrets, trusting until there is nothing left of them to share. Until there is nothing left of Izuku to offer. Even so, Katsuki, while proud of her work, does not speak to Ochako with the same friendly intonation like he used to. She must realize how much she is wearing out the hero-turned-teacher, but whether she is blind or unwilling to find fault for bearing all her issues on one man, Izuku's chin has only dipped lower and lower into his chest.
Nowadays, Katsuki and Ochako are professional acquaintances, but nothing more.
“I’ve caught a glimpse of a young man frequenting the middle school in Musutafu, chatting with the kids as they leave classes,” continues Ochako through the phone line. “He doesn’t look a day over twenty, but no matter how much I try to catch up to him, he disappears before we can talk. He has one of those hourglass emblems on his jacket sleeve—the same one from that small gang popping up in your area.”
Katsuki sighs. So far, there hasn’t been more than petty thefts and hackling from the newly represented "Burning Sand" gang, and Katsuki has left most of their offenses to the police. A bunch of runaway misfits, too consumed in their own prejudices to listen to authority—Dynamight is the epitome of what they stand against: self-righteous, pedestal heroes. He is the last person they’d want to talk to.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Katsuki asks, trying to reel in his annoyance. “Unless there’s a broken law, I can’t arrest him. He’s just talking to some kids.”
He hears the exasperation in Ochako’s voice before she begins to speak. “I’m not asking you to arrest him. I just want you to keep an eye out. Some of the students said he was trying to recruit them, and the last thing I want is a notification that someone from my school was an accomplice in an armed robbery.”
“Fine, I’ll keep an eye out.” He finishes the bandage on his other hand, unintentionally knotting it to a point of pinching. “In the meantime, talk to your kids about stranger danger. Surely they’re smart enough to understand that gangs are a one-way-ticket to a life behind bars.”
“They’re fourteen, Bakugou. Fourteen year olds do plenty of stupid, rebellious things, no matter how much they’re taught,” Ochako digs. “Surely you remember the stupid things you did as a pubescent teen.”
Katsuki does not know if the insult is intentional, so he pretends not to have heard it.
“Whatever, Cheeks. If I see anything worth mentioning, I’ll let you know.”
He hangs up.
When he stands from the sofa, flexing his freshly wrapped fingers, his phone chimes one last time.
From Uravity:
His name is Lory, according to the students.
Katsuki does not bother with a response and pockets the phone in his uniform.
Morning patrol is uneventful. He helps replace a blown tire; directs traffic when a commuting businessman accidentally hops a median; guides a blind college student across the road. The closest he gets to catching a whiff of Burning Sand is when he rips down a few flyers from a street pole, all depicting their black and white, tipping hourglass symbol with an impressively difficult to read subtitle—TIME IS BURNING. STOP THE FIRE. He has no idea what the motto is meant to imply, but he is quick to incinerate the papers in a clenched fist.
An hour before lunch, he moves precincts.
Technically, Red Riot and Pinky have claim to this neighborhood—a small, but busy suburb on the hills of Shizuoka—but the hero duo have been out of town for “personal business.” Katsuki knows better; whatever Eijirou and Mina are up to is no business transaction. Not that he blames them for finally cashing in their vacation days. Of any hero duo from his class, he is glad that they were the first two to make an official partnership, romantic or otherwise.
Suffering one more day as a middleman between their filthy, pining text messages would have cost Katsuki his last brain cell.
He lands lazily on the edge of a convenient store rooftop, overlooking the new precinct like a half-mindful parent watching their toddler. Over the course of recent years, Katsuki has learned not to stress over unlikely what-ifs: what if the man in a trenchcoat across the street is a flasher? What if the bundle of blankets in a baby stroller is a bomb? What if the group of high schoolers on the basketball courts are members of an underground mafia? These types of judgements once ruled Katsuki’s decisions as an early pro-hero. He’d stay awake deep into the night, sometimes on working hours, sometimes not, worrying about the possibilities.
What if Shigaraki came back? What if All for One was not defeated?
What if Izuku-
He shakes his head.
Beneath him, civilians scatter like insects, darting in and out of two-story office buildings, careful not to bump into one another as they begin their lunch breaks. A few look upward, wave at Katsuki as they pass, before heading into the convenient store. He catalogues the groups he sees: businessmen and women, families, friends, students. A tall male in a sweatshirt stands out, slinking behind a quick moving group of girls. Katsuki watches him carefully until the man turns a corner and disappears down another side street.
“Hey, Dynamight!”
A voice calls, and Katsuki peers down. A young teenager grins up at the hero, teeth sharp and freckles dark across his forehead. Katsuki thinks about Ochako’s warning about Burning Sand recruiting middle-schoolers, and he leaps from the parapet.
Landing on the sidewalk in front of his obvious fan, Katsuki takes a moment to study the kid. A sharp horn extends from the back of his head, angling toward the sky. He is wearing a Dynamight official shirt, a bold orange ‘X’ over black, and his brown hair is styled to mimic Katsuki’s with a substantial amount of gel. The kid rocks back on his heels, dark eyes shining brightly as he twiddles his thumbs in front of him.
“What do you need?” Katsuki asks, remembering to control his volume like Izuku had suggested after the last disappointing rankings.
The kid’s shoulders rise to his ears. “Um. Could you sign my shirt?”
Katsuki typically would not indulge the public with such pointless intricacies, but there is something about the familiar smile—embarrassed, but not enough to sway away from asking for an autograph—that has Katsuki reluctantly holding out an open palm. The kid fumbles for his backpack, unzipping a front pocket, before dropping a silver marker into Katsuki’s waiting hand.
As Katsuki signs his name on the sleeve of the shirt, he snorts. “Shouldn’t you be in school? You’re not ditching, are ya?"
The kid blushes and recaps the marker after Katsuki hands it back. “It was only half-day today. All of the teachers have meetings—they do it once every couple of months. I’m on my way home!”
The hero darts his eyes around the crowded sidewalk and street, past a group who are standing nearby taking pictures. “Keep your focus on your surroundings, kid. And don’t talk to any strangers.”
Katsuki does not think the kid is paying attention, not with the way his eyes keep slinking from the large gauntlets over Katsuki’s forearms to his waistband where two more grenades dangle, admiration glowing from every crevice of his face. Smirking, Katsuki rubs his knuckles over the boy’s hair before stepping back. “Remember to stay away from strangers,” he says once more before launching into the sky.
As it turns out, Burning Sand may have a few members in Eijirou’s precinct, too. Katsuki flies from rooftop to rooftop, stopping whenever he catches another hastily taped hourglass hanging off a telephone pole, a fence post, a street light. The flyers are spaced out in no particular direction. Eventually, Katsuki makes an entire loop around the neighborhood, wiping off bits of ash from the sixteenth poster between his palms—when he hears a crash.
He’s back in front of the park, the same convenient store where he'd talked to the boy. The streets are emptying now, people returning to work, families lounging in the park instead of in stores, and the metallic crash is almost inaudible over the laughter and shouts of the playground. Katsuki twists his head and turns the corner of a side street.
A pile of trash bins are knocked over in an alleyway between stores, blocking Katsuki’s view with mounds of rotting garbage. He scrunches his nose and steps into the shadows. There are other sounds—grunting of some sort, scraping, and then a shrill yelp. When his eyes at last adjust to the dark end of the alley, he freezes.
A tall, young man windmills his arms, brandishing his fists as if he is entering a ring. And across from him—a familiar suit worth eight-years of sidekick salary hunches over placatingly, holding a bruising jaw.
Katsuki almost laughs. Instead he smirks, quiet enough that the men still do not realize his presence, and leans a shoulder against the brick wall to watch.
“Come, now.” The gentle voice is one Katsuki often hears in his dreams, his nightmares, always accompanied by flashes of green. “We don’t have to fight. Let’s just talk about this—”
“No!” The tall, lean stranger shuffles forward. Katsuki recognizes him from patrol, the same dark sweatshirt following behind a group of girls before the fan-kid had interrupted. “You’re just like the rest of them! Fuck off with your unwanted promises!” When he swings, the hunk of armor ducks, glowing in the dark.
Izuku makes short work of the other man, leaving him on the ground, blinking absently up toward the gutters and clotheslines overhead.
At last, Katsuki applauds.
Green eyes dart to the opening of the alleyway, shock rippling across features. “K–Kacchan?”
Katsuki pushes off the wall and continues clapping his gloved hands. “Bravo,” he says sarcastically, stepping over the mound of tipped trash. “You only took one hit to the face, this time.”
TBC on Ao3 eventually.
The Last
Ever since he was a child, Katsuki has taken everything from Izuku.
It is only natural that he should steal this, too.
(Or- How the last of Izuku's OFA embers are spent.)
This was by request from a follower: "Katsuki goes insane watching an unconscious Izuku fight with Blackwhip controlling his body."
WIP (vigilante Deku)
(Trying to be more active here lol) IZUKU COULD NOT REMEMBER the last time he'd seen the sun. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the cold wind bit at his exposed skin, fogging his goggles. His boots splattered on the puddled concrete soaked with rain, mud, and old blood. Though rainstorms had become a daily phenomenon, they never could wash away the stains. Death and blood polluted Japan, and it was only a matter of time before it clouded the rest of the world. Shigaraki and All for One would make sure of it.
The streets were silent. No civilians. Over the past few months, only violent protestors or petty villains dared venture out; the real threats—the monsters that had torn Tartarus apart—had vanished, slipping into the shadows once the international teams arrived. Izuku had crossed paths with a few of the new heroes, but none measured up to the legends of his childhood. Still, their efforts had been appreciated. All Might strength or not, anyone would be welcome to fight alongside the dwindling Japan remnants. There was a certain hope and strength in numbers... or so everyone believed.
It was a shame, though not a complete surprise, when most of them died.
Deku worked alone now.
He wiped the condensation off his lenses and stared up at the gray sky, focusing on the outline of a Nomu as its wings beat against the harsh winds. An invisibility quirk. Without his specialized goggles, he wouldn’t have known it was there. For days, he’d tracked the invisible beast, waiting for it to return to its master or hint at the League's location. It never did. It just drifted, mindlessly circling the countryside with no sign of stopping.
His hand tightened around the goggles—Hatsume’s last gift before she went missing like so many others. He prayed that the mechanic and her family had successfully fled the country. It was a far better alternative to the claim that someone had seen her corpse under a collapsed building.
At the edge of an abandoned skyscraper, Izuku paused, his gaze sweeping over what remained of Esuha city. The heart of the metropolis, which had once pulsed with life and hope, now lay in broken fragments. Across the street, Fat Gum's agency stood as little more than a hollow shell, the shackled remains of brick and stucco reaching upward like ancient ruins.
When All for One had escaped Tartarus, the agencies were the first to fall. Leftover heroes had banded together near Yuuei campus, hiding in wait for an opportunity to fight back, which of course never came.
Izuku squinted and spotted a few bodies strewn near the entrance of Fat Gum's agency, long past the point of saving. He could almost hear their desperate cries, fists pounding against the agency's sealed doors, pleading for a sanctuary that would never come. What final thoughts had passed through their minds as they realized no one would answer?
It was little wonder the people had turned their backs on the heroes. Izuku couldn’t blame them.
He barely slowed his pace as he fired off a brief, coded text to Endeavor: Bodies in Esuha center. He knew the rescue teams would handle retrieving the decomposed corpses and identifying them, passing along the news to what little family remained. That was no longer his concern. Izuku’s purpose had narrowed to a single, burning objective: destroy All for One. The dead were beyond his reach, but the living still had a chance, however slim. And so, he pressed on, trailing the Nomu like a ghost through the rain-soaked ruins.
The jagged skyline eventually flattened to sprawling neighborhoods, then to abandoned rice fields, where weeds rose like sentries from the earth. Each time the Nomu dipped lower, Izuku crouched among the tall grass, heart pounding, careful not to be caught in the creature's line of sight. He moved in a rhythm now, alternating between bursts of running and surveillance, never allowing himself the luxury of rest.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. A response from Endeavor, no doubt. A plea for him to update his location, to inform the group about where he was going. But he could not risk communicating that way, even in code. All for One was no doubt listening, waiting for an opportunity to catch and kill the last of the resistance. One misstep, one careless message—like, I’m chasing an invisible Nomu—and everything would be snuffed out.
He liked to believe that he could go on for as long as necessary; his years of training had conditioned him to survive in extremes. But his body had its limits. Food had run out two days ago, and the Nomu showed no signs of slowing down. Izuku tried to keep an eye out for any sources—an old convenience store, an unlocked door, a tipped over trash can—but found nothing. Mere adrenaline thrummed through his veins, keeping him sharp, alert.
As rain drizzled down, Izuku tilted his head back, catching a few drops on his tongue. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
Another buzz from his pocket, just as the Nomu screeched overhead. Izuku ducked behind a shrubby tree, pulse quickening with the fear he’d been seen. But the creature, oblivious, continued its course. They were heading back towards civilization—if that word even applied anymore. In the distance, apartment rooftops broke the horizon, and something about them tugged at Izuku’s memory. A fragment of his past, perhaps. Musutafu, maybe. If it truly was his hometown, he’d have circled Japan in under a week. He couldn’t help but let a dark smile curl at the thought—what a record that would have been.
Briefly glancing up at the bird as it grazed the tips of the trees, Izuku risked a peek at his phone.
2 new messages.
He fully expected the notifications to be from Endeavor, but when he opened them, he nearly dropped his phone in surprise.
Unknown number:
Where the FUCK are you.
I stole your number from number-one hot head, so answer me before he finds out and destroys my phone.
Another buzz followed moments later.
I know you’re reading these. Call me asap. I’m deleting evidence of this conversation.
A lump lodged its way into Izuku's throat. Twilight crept across the sky, casting long shadows through the skeletal trees that offered him little protection. His breaths came quicker, his heart pounding in his ears. The Nomu circled overhead, a predator biding its time.
And for a moment, Izuku broke.
He buried his face in the crook of his arm, the sobs quiet, muffled, but unstoppable. It was startling, almost relieving, to know that he could still cry. Many of his classmates could not anymore.
Classmates. The word felt like poison on his tongue. Ochako, Tenya, Shoto, Mina, Minoru… Kacchan. Just a few of the faces he hadn’t seen in over a month. He’d erased himself from their lives, using a new phone thanks to Hatsume’s network of friends, severing every connection. He couldn’t risk being found—not again. Not after they’d dragged him back three times already, forcing him to bathe and eat and waste several days in their care.
This time, most of them stayed away on one condition: that he would direct them to All for One and Shigaraki when the time came. He was not allowed to fight by himself. Though Endeavor and Jeanist would not be able to track him, they eventually relented to his request to go alone. They would have to trust him.
After all, Deku had never failed them before.
Izuku hiccupped as he slid his back down the bark of the tree. Absently, his eyes tracked the silhouette of the Nomu, its wings slicing through the sky toward the distant city. He would catch up—he always did—but right now, steadying his breath, his heart, was the priority. Who would have thought a simple text could unravel him like this? He cursed himself for opening the phone at all. TBC (on Ao3 eventually)
Not - Big Thief + 431 bakugo
(bkdk mentioned)
It's not the room : the room where all of class 1-A is during the reunion
Not beginning : bakugo and deku have a rough beginning, hell the whole start of bakugo’s hero career was rough.
Not the crowd : the crowd being 1A
Not winning : he won’t be competing with izuku for the rest of his life, izuku didn’t join his agency, deku isn’t number one + he’s super low on the charts in his eyes
[ skip a few lyrics ]
Not what you really wanted : this isn’t what bakugo wanted his life to be at all. he wanted izuku by his side and to be competing for the rest of their lives, to be heros together. he also wanted to be number one, nothing went according to his plan.
Nor the mess in your purse : i like to think of the purse as bakugo’s head, god knows what’s going through his mind. i mean he DIED for this dream just for it to be destroyed.
Nor the bed that is haunted : the hospital bed, or the war grounds he died on. [bkdk bonus : bakugo’s bed because he’s alone in it and izuku isn’t there.]
With a blanket of thirst : another bkdk bonus, the thirst for izuku. he wanted him. he DEPENDS on izuku. yet he’ll never have him.
[skipping a few]
Nor the hand that is healing : bakugo’s scarred hands after all he’s been through final getting a chance to heal. [bkdk slip of dekus hands finally healing now that his hero work has come to a rest.]
Nor the nameless grave : do i even have to elaborate why this could relate to bakugo.
happy (late) bday bakugou :DD
moving out of the dorms
#allmighthyperfixation=autism😜
ABAHAHHAHAH HES SO SILLY
yippie
half of my sketchbook is mha uhhh….
please DONT mind how all of the pictures are sideways i’m too lazy to flip them
why does he look angry even when he's confused
I hope this yassification of anime katsuki stays consistent through the season. We all know how bones usually makes him look like a sewer creature…
side by side, intertwined <3
dynamight’s badass band-aids!
made this to accompany my fic Katsuki Bakugou and the Great Band-Aid Conspiracy on ao3
it’s been half a year but sometimes I still can’t believe that bakugo is smiling so gently and being so at peace with himself and his friendship with deku like he’s so happy it’s so cute
bakugo does that thing where you spread your legs to be at eye level with a much shorter person (he's an asshole) (request)
deaf bakugo post war realizes his sign language skills are closer that of like an eight year old’s than an adult once he connects w/ other deaf people and some of them are dicks about it (it does happen. i became hard of hearing when i was 14 and i didn’t know any asl growing up as opposed to kids that grew up in deaf homes that didn’t really want to talk to me) and he’s like well FINE then ill learn EVERY SIGN LANGUAGE I CAN to SPITE you guys
awwww <3
