Tokoyami has years of experience in controlling Dark Shadow — making sure he doesn’t overstep his boundaries, learning how to keep him under wraps until needed. That is, until it comes to you. The poor boy just can’t seem to keep him at bay whenever you’re around, although maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.
When a pebble is dropped into the inky abyss of a lake, it doesn’t sink straight down to the bottom: it floats. The fall is gradual, its descent furthered by the gentle caress of gravity and irresistible call of darkness. He still remembers the first time he fell too quickly into that abyss, the rapid switch from joy into anger, and from anger into regret… into fear. The shrieks as he realized that the long, stretching shadows around him were his own, inhuman claws tearing forwards with a delight so antithetical to what he felt then. A power-drunk monster, spurred forward by not only darkness, but emotion.
Temperance is a skill that is hard to learn, but it’s one that Tokoyami has mastered. He’s never been allowed to indulge in the jolting epiphanies and fiery emotions of his peers. No — graduality has always been a friend to him. Perhaps out of necessity more than anything else, but still, a friend.
And through his temperance he found some semblance of control over the creature, which only strengthened with time. It’s hard to say when the friendship between Tokoyami and the creature — whom he had affectionately named Dark Shadow, when he was a bit too young to think of anything past the gothic poetry he would read every recess — really formed. But despite the odds, it did.
Either way, it’s been a long, long time since he’s lost control over Dark Shadow.
So really, you’ll have to forgive his change in demeanor.
Tokoyami knows he’s fucked from the moment you walk in. It takes only half a second for his eyes to follow your long strides as you cross the room, and another for his brain to dissolve into a puddle at the sight. The breath catches in his throat, only to be shoved out with a wheeze as the tugging sensation in his chest becomes too much to bear. But instead of being tugged to his feet by some inextricable feeling of love — or whatever it is those gushy romance novels Mina can never seem to stop talking about — he’s instead pulled to his feet by the creature he thought he had control over.
Dark Shadow whips forward with a delighted call of your name, casting his book flying and tugging Tokoyami along as though he were little more than a second thought. For a brief moment he’s taken back to his childhood, when his emotions ran rampant and fueled his darker friend with a malicious power. For a second he’s worried that he’ll grow into that terrifying beast once again, but instead Dark Shadow just nudges his head under your palm for a pet, not unlike a dog. He’s sure that if he had a tail, it’d be wagging, too. And all at once, his instinctual fear drops into red hot embarrassment. He sputters, all of his eloquent prose going straight out the window as he stumbles through some combination of “Dark Shadow,” and “contain yourself.”
“Hello to you too, Dark Shadow,” you laugh, before indulging the shadow with gentle scratches beneath its beak. It makes a contented noise — one that Tokoyami has heard far, far too much lately, and he’s still digging his heels into the floor, as though he’d be able to take back his friend’s little outburst and —
“Hey, Fumikage,” you smile. Yeah, to say he’s in trouble would be an understatement.
Tokoyami swallows thickly. Such a simple gesture, but his heart hammers away in his chest, his breath taken away at your soft, no, fond grin. He wonders if you know how beautiful you are, if you know how much control you have over him. It’s a feeling that, despite the overwhelming embarrassment it brings, he never wants to end. It’s sweet. Pleasant, even. He nervously smooths out his feathers, willing the heat away from his face as he returns your greeting.
Maybe some emotions don’t need to be tempered, after all.
“men with deep voices are most likely to cheat” with tokoyami.
Tokoyami sat as still as stone on the edge of your bed, his hand held delicately between yours like it was something precious—and in truth, he supposed it was.
You handled it like you always did, with a mix of confident ease and chaotic sparkle. You had already laid out your tools in front of him: the black polish he liked, your own selection of colorful decals that you swore up and down you wouldn’t use this time (a lie), and of course, the glitter.
You were focused, tongue poking out just slightly between your lips, while you painted his nails with practiced strokes. Your wrist flicked lightly as you covered each nail in a sharp, midnight black. On the nearby dresser, a soft playlist of hyperpop and old anime songs played, your idea of calming ambiance. He watched you quietly, occasionally flexing the fingers you weren’t holding to test the polish’s weight on his hand.
Tokoyami’s gotten used to this, he thinks.
And he loves the idea of doing this with you.
“You’re unusually quiet,” you murmur, not looking up as you blow lightly on his ring finger. “You okay, prince?”
The variety of endearments you have for him never fails to make his heart flutter.
It’s always a test of what he’ll like versus what he wouldn’t. So far, he likes all of them enough to not ruffle his feathers whenever he hears you call him with them.
Just imagine the first time it happened, when you called Tokoyami “darling” when you thanked him for getting you a glass of water from the counter at a fast food place. Bakugou almost blasted the whole table to bits, his face having a puzzled and obviously shocked expression.
“I am simply focused on the process,” he answered solemnly, the depth of his voice vibrating through the air like distant thunder. “Your technique is… soothing.”
You laughed, eyes still down. “I better be good. I’ve been doing your nails for, what, six months now?”
“Seven,” Tokoyami corrected without hesitation.
“Aww. You counted.” You smiled, proud, and finally glanced up at him, meeting the faint blush creeping across his shadowed face. “So cute.”
He cleared his throat and looked away slightly. “You’re the one who insisted I needed ‘something fun’ in my look.”
“And now you love it.”
“…Yes.”
How could he ever argue with you?
Your smile widened as you dipped your brush into the glittery container, already swirling it with mischief in your gaze. “Just a little sparkle on your pinky. My signature, ok?”
“I have not forgotten.”
You carefully brushed the fine silver glitter onto the nail, just enough to catch the light. “It’s like my version of carving my name on a tree or whatever,” you said, tapping the tiny bottle against his knuckle gently. “Now whenever you look at your hands, you’ll think of me.”
“I always do.”
“Aww—lovey.” You laughed again, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on the side of his beak before going back to your work. “Okay, but listen, I read this super stupid article today,” you started, your tone changing like you were about to stir trouble. “It said that men with deeper voices are more likely to cheat.”
Tokoyami turned his head slowly to look at you, feathers metaphorically—and now quite literally—ruffled.
“What?”
“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly, as if you weren’t just throwing a bomb in his lap. “Like, scientifically or whatever. Testosterone or something. Isn’t that dumb?”
There was a moment of silence.
On one hand, all the gears in Tokoyami’s head were working overtime. This could be a trap. An argument is waiting to bubble over if he says the wrong thing.
Then—
Tokoyami cleared his throat and, in a pitch several notches higher than normal, chirped, “Who said that?!”
You exploded into laughter. You dropped the nail polish brush on the paper towel and nearly doubled over in a fit, covering your mouth with your hands.
“Oh my gosh, Fumi!”
“I am not… suspicious!” Tokoyami squawked, still in the same ridiculous falsetto, his hands twitching slightly in embarrassment. He tries not to move them too much, letting the nail polish dry evenly.
“Why do you sound like that? You sound like you inhaled a balloon!” you wheezed. “You don’t have to raise your voice like that just to prove a point!”
“I am simply ensuring you understand I am of no threat to your heart.”
“You dork!” You wiped your eyes, absolutely beaming. “You’re the most faithful boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. I’m not worried at all. I was just messing with ya!”
Tokoyami sighed, letting the high-pitched voice drop, returning to his usual shadowy baritone. “Good.”
You leaned in close again, bumping your arm lightly to his. “But oh my god, Fumi, I’m never letting you forget that voice. I need to hear that again someday. Maybe I’ll tell people you’re my backup K-pop vocalist.”
“Absolutely not.”
“‘Who said that?’” you mocked again in that high, squeaky tone.
Tokoyami sighed again and shook his head, but his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, amusement breaking through the stoic mask he wore so often. “You and your antics.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“And now you have glitter again,” you said proudly, holding up his hand like a trophy. “Dark, mysterious, and slightly fabulous.”
Tokoyami looked at his nails, admiring the contrast—the sharp black polish with that one glimmering pinky, like a whisper of you left behind on his hands. He nodded in approval.
“It suits me.”
You hummed, resting your chin in your palm as you looked at him. “So, when people ask about the glitter, what’ll you say?”
He looked down at the shimmer, then back at you. “I will say it is a reminder.”
“Of what?”
He held your gaze. “That I belong to someone. Proudly.”
After seeing your last ask I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing for a similar idea? A fem-UA student with a “fairy quirk”!! She’d have these beautiful wings, her own kind of fairy dust that lets her telepathically control whatever (or whoever) is covered in it, her hair may even be irridecent in the sun!!
The point I guess I’m making is she’s very cutsey! How do you think the 1A students would react to her being one of the strongest in the class?!💞
Ty 🤍🤍
ily fairy reader!! the diva ever!!! im so sorry for how long this took :(
fairy quirk fem!user x all of class 1a, in their respective seat orders :)
not stricly written to be romantic or platonic!
yuga aoyama would try to become your friend right away holy shit. like, the second he saw you. très magnifique, am i right? you sparkle just as much as him, so why wouldn't he want to be your friend? aaaaaaand you're super strong? bonus points! yuga would definitely ask you to help him with his confidence, seeing how you don't let your looks define you despite people's assumptions. being strong is the best quality of yours, one that he truly admires!
mina ashido would be ECSTATIC and you can't tell me otherwise! she would definitely try to come up with some cool combo move that combines both your fairy dust and her acid, but it takes a while to be able to fully use it. she'd also get you matching hair clips that stand out but are just as pretty has your hair...mina would cheer the loudest for you out of everyone during the sports festival, especially if you were going up against some snobby guy >:(
tsuyu asui would be very excited to have someone in class who was somehow creature related and not just human. being able to work together so well despite how differing your quirks were from one another truly was a blessing in her eyes. tsu LOVES working with you, as it provides an easy opening to round up and capture opponents with her tongue, whether you control them with your fairy dust or just stun them from the shine of your wings!
tenya iida was one to never doubt your abilities from day one. why should he? you're obviously in ua for a reason and in class 1a, both amazing feats on their own, so he had no reason to doubt you! he vaguely saw you in action during the entrance exam and was over the moon to introduce himself once the year started and saw you sitting in his class. tenya does however often rave about the beauty of your wings...quickly followed by your impeccable strength!
ochaco uraraka would volunteer to be your sparring partner or groupmate no matter what and would get pouty if someone got to you first! diva and diva group is terrifying and there have been times that katsuki felt sweat on his brow seeing who he was going against (even if he won't admit it). ochaco would totally beg to play with your hair to help build teammate connection though! mostly to see if it's possible to use your hair as it's own defense mechanism during battles, but still!!
mashirao ojiro would also be so happy to have another classmates with an additional animal-related appendage. like hell yeah, how cool was that? the two of you would absolutely bond over taking care of the quirk-related body part, even if your's wasn't directly related to fighting. mashirao would also treat you with loads of care, much similarly to how he treats toru, and totally wouldn't mind getting fairy dust on him <3
you cannot tell me that denki kaminari wouldn't scream "get his ass!" during trainings! he was once the unforunate recipient of the beatings far too many times, accidentally getting distracted by how mesmerizing you were the first time you two fought... denki didn't even need to use his quirk to short-circuit himself! he absolutely loves using your abilities to shock opponents when teamed up together before quite literally shocking them as well!
eijiro kirishima would think it's manly af that you don't adhere to what people think of you! cutesy and pretty? hell yeah! but you can also kick someone's ass in seconds? hell yeah!!! your whole vibe is wha teijiro thinks makes someone a good hero. he himself has witnessed on several occaisions an opponent of yours severely miscalculating how easy it would be to win against you, only for you take them down in seconds and blow them a kiss after. eijiro is a top ten supporter!
koji koda would be so stoked!! telepathacially being able to control your fairy dust? why, that's similar to his quirk! but with extra steps and a few differences hee and there. he'd love to train with you and swap tips and tricks on how to grow stronger using the telepathy, but koji wouldn't hesitate to also come up with ways to be more useful when it comes to hand-to-hand combat!
rikido sato would be a little confused that you are one of, if not the, strongest member of class 1a! a fairy? so bright? he was shook to his core seeing you during training. his pride took a hit when you easily beat him in an arm wrestling match, but he saw it as a way you powered up your quirk! during matches and trainings, rikido would love whenever you'd be paired together! sure you won against most of your opponents and that would give your team a good rep, but working beside someone with just as much strength and power as him would be so beneficial to his development as a hero, don't you think?
mezo shoji is initially taken aback by the sheer power on your strength in your quirk, but is glad that ua didn't lose you to some competing hero course. with the many appendages that he has, he's willing to help you train to be better with your wings during combat instead of just flying around when you approached him after the first few weeks of class! in-air combat is intense but like the gentlemen he is, mezo would be quick to catch you if anything goes wrong!
kyoka jiro would be intrigued! she saw your wings oddly rattle once while she used her quirk and the two of you stared at each other in confusion!! "i didn't know they could do that-" well neither did you!! i do think your fairy dust would have a limited radius of how far it could go when you want to attach it to something, so kyoka would not hesitate in using sound waves to help it travel further! she also thinks its metal af that you don't let what others think of your looks to hold you back... you should totally let her do your eyeliner some time!
hanta sero did not really realize that your fairy dust could control his tape so easily! he would be fuming the first time, but realized how useful that would be during combat! he loved to see the faces of horrified opponents thinking that he learned to control his tape so specifically...but nope! that was the work of his super cool and amazing training partner. hanta would be super intimidated by your abilities at first but finds joy in opponents thinking you'll be an easy target but knowing how wrong they are.
fumikage tokoyami would enjoy working with you for duos and teams despite being on opposite ends of the spectrum. bright and glittery versus dark and brooding...who knew you'd be such a strong duo during battle? sure dark shadow would be distracted by the glow of your hair or wings sometimes, but opponents feared seeing who was going against them when the two of you stepped up! fumikage absolutely hated fighting against you, though...
shoto todoroki felt so bad after accidentally freezing your wings once he was convinced you hated him and that's why would were so harsh with him when he was your opponent. but no, that was just your fighting style! he'd be taken aback by the amount of power and determination, oddly finding himself in you as you worked to prove yourself. shoto understood, he really did, how you wanted a certain aspect of your quirk to be the center of attention.
i think that out of everyone, toru hagakure would be your closest friend! i also do think she'd become more visible if you use your fairy dust on her! like this would be such an iconic duo, you cannot prove me wrong. and the iridescent hair? soooo similar to toru's!! she'd get so excited hearing your wings fluttering in a crowd and would immediately turn to look for you. we love our sparkly besties <3
katsuki bakugo would react quite similarly to how he reacted to ochaco. sure you're a girl, but you can kick ass pretty well! the fairy dust pisses him off to no end, though. katsuki would try his best to absolutely avoid it to not get even a spec on him. you obviously didn't need to control him, but he would rather die than have glitter on him!! that however doesn't stop you from putting some of it in his hair and placing the strands into funny ways when he isn't looking...
izuku midoriya would be MESMERIZED. like holy shit, FAIRY DUST?? oh, he has to write that down! he hasn't seen a quirk like that like...literally ever! after watching you during training, izuku would definitely ask you to spar with him on different occaisions since your fighting style is so different to his!! you two train so much together he somtimes still finds your fairy dust on his clothes no matter how many times they are put through the wash...
minoru mineta would 100% think you're flirting with him when you blow him a kiss...only to discover you were disposing of him by using your fairy dust to get him far away from you and the other girls in the class. but that's alright, he can try again! and again...and again...use your fairy dust for something useful, will you?? no??? getting him away from you is useful?????
momo yaoyorozu would be oddly smitten. the prettiest fairy ever is able to beat nearly everyone in training? how exciting! she'd get super embarassed if you admitted to her that you look up to her as a friend and classmate because oh my gosh! she thought precisely the same about you! honestly, the absolute lethal face cards of you and momo together would be enough to knock an opponent down, let alone the doubled stregnth of the two of you together!!
Been lurking through the tokoyami tag recently and found a few of your fics/hcs and i’m so obsessed they’re really nice i ate them up….. i’m somewhat new to mha (bro missed out on EVERYTHING🧌🥀) and he’s like so underrated it’s a tough world being a flop character enjoyer…
sincerely
pairing: fumikage tokoyami x reader
contains: songfic “sincerely” by the mcguire sisters, fluff awh, slowburn squished into a oneshot, gender neutral prns, reader is an bari-playing extrovert, i can’t stop adding mina, not proofread ofc
word count: 3.3k
“he doesn’t want me, but i’ll never let him go!”
Stepping into the classroom that first day must have, in hindsight, been Fumi’s most egregious mistake.
The vast halls of U.A. loomed over, around, and bellow him, threatening to swallow him whole. The chilled avian, despite his usually steadfast and borderline austere demeanor was ruffled. Tall, tall doors stood before him. The key to his future. All he had to do was not drop it down a storm drain.
Pushing open said gates revealed a classroom speckled with students, not yet full. He was always punctual.. perhaps exceedingly so. Well, early bird gets the worm. Fumikage took a moment to examine those who were there already upon taking his seat.
A sharp young man with a precariously combed bluish side part was at the front of the room. His stiff hands flew all over the place as he vivaciously scolds another student across the class. He recalled the voice: the same used to publicly reprimanded one speaking out of turn during orientation. In his frenzy, Fumikage’s presence went unnoticed; no doubt in Fumi’s mind he would have been promptly greeted otherwise, so perhaps it’s for the best, he decided.
The pupil on the receiving end of the objectively ripped guy’s barrage leaned back in his seat, ivory shoes high on the shiny wooden desktop. His blond hair jutted out in what resembles miniature explosions, the likes of which would be colored the same as his violently red irises. His voice boomed, filling the room with ease. It didn’t seem his anger (or petulance, perhaps) was going to ease any time soon. Better not associate with him.
In the very back corner, a lavish-appearing girl. Long, silky dark hair was tied in a ponytail. Expensive school supplies are neatly organized on her desk—products of the bourgeoisie, for sure—along with minimal beauty products. She wasn’t entangled with the childish clash disturbing the entirety of the chamber. Perhaps she had tuned them out, an idea Fumikage envied. He was cursed with eternal cognizance of the feud.
Two figures idly chatted by the window, one of which Fumi recognized, thank the lord.
Mashirao Ojirō is turned around in his seat in order to converse. His large tail gently swishes, displaying his concealed excitement. He serves a polite wave and a modest smile, comforted by the sight of an old classmate.
The conversation buddy of said old classmate is another beefcake. Extra appendages extend from his threateningly buff arms, but his voice is gentle. A mask hides half his face, but the bird is not one to judge.
Finally, a stony-faced boy is placed beside him. His two-toned hair is unique, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He stares straight ahead, thinly veiling his frustration at the multiple nuisances in the room. One annoyance that had slipped by Fumi’s radar was pestering the cool protégé of Endeavor, begging for friendship.
You.
The lack of even a smile didn’t deter you. Rather, it spurred you on. Soft taps on the back or shoulder and clearly unwelcome icebreaker questions were more than enough to make any sensible person’s eye twitch, and Todoroki is no exception. Any attempts at squishing your friendliness were obviously squashed, leading to this cycle of ignorance.
“So, how exactly does your quirk work?” you inquired innocently, not caring much for his irritation. Fumikage gets the sense that he should look away before-
Your eyes locked onto him, like a big jungle cat with a fallen fledgling. A grin spread over your lips, and that’s when he knew he was over.
You rose from your seat and perched atop the desk in front of his, buzzing with this foreign energy he could only describe as adoring. He spaced out as you introduce yourself, and pretended to ignore the unabashedly flirtatious tone.
“How have we never met before?” you drawled, sinking down into the seat to rest your elbows on his desk. A massive intrusion of his personal space, he noted. “I like your feathers. They’re so soft looking,” you murmured, reaching out to touch one.
This was gonna be a very long year.
-
A class trip to the U.S.J.! Fun, educational, hands-on. All the good things when it comes to hero training. Unfortunately, Fumi had yet to shake you off. Dark Shadow had become rather fond of you. The affectionate speak had evolved into dramatic semi-public displays. Dreadful.
On the bus, a lull had settled over the class. Everyone poking fun at Bakugō was amusing, admittedly. Individual conversations branched off from the communal goading, meaning that he was stuck with your voice in his ear.
“Love me,” you propose. His onyx feathers puff up spherically. He hadn’t gotten used to the sudden professions quite yet. He’d say it’s impressive how you can focus on your career and flirt so relentlessly, was he not on the receiving end of it.
He shakes his head, laying the frayed plumage down. “Absolutely not,” he denies, looking away.”
“Why not? You know I’d do anything for you,” you press, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I’d wash the dishes, I’d write you a romantically macabre poem… the works.”
“Do me a favor,” he begins, lacing his fingers in his lap. You perk up. “Work on your quirk.”
You wilt like a fern.
The villain attack marred the jovial mood that came pre-installed with all heroes
-in-training. The safe environment designed for teaching was decimated, barely scraping a win from the jaws of death. Your homeroom teacher, among others, was seriously injured. Granted, for a gaggle of first years the situation was handled quite well. Still, a traumatizing event.
During the catastrophe, you were sectioned off with Eijiro and Katsuki. Being in the heart of battle was a new experience, and one that you weren’t sure you could handle; Thanks to your peers (and to give yourself credit where it was due), you lived to see another day. Seeing Izuku in action up close was breathtakingly cool, though.
Returning to school after reconnecting with Fumikage and friends, he allowed you to hold on tight.
-
The limitation of students movements, aka dorms, only allowed you to further encroach on his livelihood. As if you hadn’t already permeated every aspect of his waking hours, you now had access to the hours he’s sleeping.
Thankfully, you were separated by an entire floor. The fourth was called your home, while the second was his. His dim sanctuary was a strictly solitary zone. Not a soul was allowed past the door after the initial introduction of the dorms, the class show-and-tell, per se.
Except you, of course.
Not because Fumikage particularly enjoyed your company, or that he even wanted you there… simply because he couldn’t keep you out. Any time he would leave in the evening, he’d return to you lounging on the bed or fidgeting with the skull he’s told you countless times to stop touching.
Despite the less-than-welcome intrusions, Fumi couldn’t deny that you’ve grown on him. You were obnoxious, okay. Annoying, yeah. Over-the top excited, sure. But, it was endearing on occasion; not that he’d ever dare to tell you that. Your onslaught of adoration would have only thickened.
“Fumikage,” you purred, sprawled across his dark covers. The fluffy top blanket wasn’t there last time you barged in. He glanced up for a moment, letting you interrupt his guitar tune-ups. You rolled over onto your stomach, resting your chin in your palm. “You love me yet?”
He huffed amusedly, strumming a chord. “No. When will you stop asking that?”
You pretended to deliberate on the question. “Hm, when you let me take you on a date.”
Fumi rolled his eyes. “You’re not even supposed to be in here, considering it’s after hours. It’s against policy, so Tenya will scold us both if he finds out, and I have also banished you from my domain.” He placed his guitar in its velvety case.
“Mmh, I’m not leaving yet,” you replied stubbornly, plopping your head on a stray pillow. “Did you put this new blanket down for me?”
“Of course not. How you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that baffles me,” he denied vehemently.
You droned suspiciously, but didn’t press on in favor of the comfortable mattress.
Fumi sighed. It was between himself and Dark Shadow, the fact that he had dug out his softest covers to drape atop his resting place, knowing you’d adore them.
-
Weekends nights as a hero-in-training were almost never relaxing. The rare evenings spent in the company of your classmates were ones held close to your chest.
The sun had set on yet another Saturday, but the lights in the dorms were warm and bright.
The smell of butter lingered in the common room from Mina’s microwave popcorn, but the scent is homed in your room. The pink heroine blew on her freshly-painted nails, listening to you talk.
“Nah, he doesn’t want me, but I’m never letting him go,” you commented casually, scrolling through hero forums.
She giggled, flopping back on your mattress. Mina exclaimed, “I can’t believe you! Just go for it.” Her eyes drifted towards your closet. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a large speckled box with golden latches. She sat up.
“I do go for it. Constantly. Are you listening?” you huffed, crossing your arms.
She was on her feet in an instant. Mina creeped towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening! Whatcha got in there?” She jabbed a thumb towards the case. The metal caught whatever light it could, making it shine so enticingly.
You shrugged, “just my instrument. Nothing interesting.”
Mina’s face lit up. She’d always admired instrumentalists. Being able to lay down a tune that makes people move their bodies is the most admirable artistic talent, she thought. “Play for me,” she bursted, “please?
A heavy sigh was pressed from your chest. You cringed, pulling your brows together. You should have known this would be the outcome, and you hadn’t practiced in a while due to the tribulations of training. You uttered, “mmh, I dunno…”
Mina dramatically dropped on all fours and pleaded to hear the tooting of your virtue, no matter how ugly or tuneless. That’s a bad thing to ask for, you thought.
A moment of silence passed over the room. The girl before you peeked up from between her strands to catch your expression; she tried to decipher your thoughts from your face.
“Okay. Fine,” you yielded, tossing your hands up in the air as you rose. She darted up, returning to her spectator’s chair (your bed) with a renewed excitement.
Toting the thing out of there was a bit of a struggle, even if it shouldn’t have been. You carelessly dropped the case on its side; another sigh when you realized it was the wrong way. Eventually, a large curly saxophone made itself known as the room’s treasure: worth more than diamonds or rubies, or anything one would find on an artifact escapade.
She grinned, leaning down to get a better look at it. Mina couldn’t keep her eyes off it as you strapped it to your chest.
“Huh. Doesn’t seem as heavy anymore…” you murmured absentmindedly. A nice payoff from physical labor. You tootted off a scale, just to get air circulating.
“What is it?” she inquires with a tilt of the head.
The mouthpiece moved from your mouth, allowing you to answer without wood on your tongue. “Bari sax. I was in the band in middle school,” you explained.
“That’s so cool! I wish I had picked up an instrument…”
To distract her from past wishes, you played her a few improvised tunes. Your fingers flew over the keys like second nature, giving an outlet for whatever terrible feelings had been building up the past few months. Mina was awestruck, but you were sure it was just because of your self-proclaimed rudimentary sax skills.
Loud stomping followed by a few crackles could be heard in the hallway, but were drowned out by your jam sesh. Four knocks hard enough to bend the door made you jump. You didn’t move to open it.
“Who is it?” you called, even though you know.
“Turn that off!” Katsuki barked. Mina giggles beside you.
“No, Mina asked me to play for her,” you scoffed, shaking your head. A softer melody runs from the bell.
“I’m warning you!” Ridiculous. Who does the think he is? You played a more complicated riff.
Boom!
The door flew off the hinges and dropped in the mouth of your room. A few loose pens rolled off your desk and clattered on the ground. One side was noticeably charred. The perpetrator stood in the hall, light circling him like a halo. Well, not a halo considering he’s anything but an angel. He huffed and puffed, perhaps even twitching.
“Bakubabe, what the hell?” Mina harangued, rising from the gallery.
He crossed his arms out of annoyance. “I warned them,” he reasoned, “could hear that stupid flatulence machine from across the hall. People are sleeping.”
You glanced at the digital clock on your bedside.
20:16
“Right…” you murmured, “forgot you’re elderly.”
“What did you say to me?!” he erupted.
Fumikage heard a loud boom from down the hall. Shōji sat up a bit straighter; his extra eyes darted around curiously, while his ears pointed towards his door.
“Man, Bakugō’s so insane, man,” Sero chuckled, dropping his pen mustache. “What time is it? Shouldn’t he be asleep?”
Fumi finds himself smiling ever so slightly.
“What happened to the music?” inquires Shōji in his usual low voice. He rises from his bed, wandering closer to the hallway. Sero follows, peeking past his broad shoulders as he slowly opens the door.
“Sero, Shōji, we shouldn’t-“ Sero cuts him off.
“Hanta, man. Sero’s too formal for someone I hang around with like this. C’mon dude,” he insisted exasperatedly, craning his neck to investigate. Nosy bastard.
Shōji hummed in agreement. “You may call me Mezō as well.”
“… Right,” he began, “Alas, we shouldn’t pry in the lives of our classmates too much.”
Sero— no, Hanta gave a cheeky laugh. “Hell no, amigo. I gotta know what’s up.”
Mezō nipped his uncharacteristic interest in the bud and took a seat. “You’re correct, Fumikage. I apologize. I’m sure all is well.”
The bird waved off his repentance.
Dark Shadow finally emerges from her cave in his chest after what seemed like years, but was in reality only around a day. “I want to know what’s happening!” she declared, wrapping around Hanta.
“Leave it, Dark Shadow,” Fumi tutted, recalling her. Evidently, he did not miss her as he thought he did.
“Katsuki!” shouts another voice from down the hall, “that was my last good reed, you ass!” It’s you!
In an instant, Fumikage was on his feet.
Hanta smirked, “so, garçon, being nosy isn’t above you when it’s them?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, puckered up, and leaned in.
His lips are met with Fumikage’s palm, displaying his very characteristic disinterest. “No. Only wracked with concern.”
Fumi stepped into the hall in time to see you flipping the bird to Bakugō as he stormed back to his dorm. He swore he could see the blond’s hands lighting up with tiny pops.
Ashido waved her arms frantically behind you, obviously upset about something. “I’ll remember this, Kats!” she exclaimed. Bakugō replied with something offensive, then slammed his door to mute her grievances.
The pair chattered, agitated, and eventually retreated to your room. Interesting, you didn’t close the door?
Fumikage shook his head, rejoining Mezō silently. “So loud,” he chirped, but Hanta was still staring.
“I’m watching you, dude.”
-
Later that same night, Fumikage found himself moving towards your dorm. Just a routine check-in, something he’d do for any of his comrades. Except he wouldn’t. And you weren’t a friend.
The door was still wide open, leading him to believe there was some damage dealt to it. He leaned in the entryway, examining your room. A white sheet of wood—ashen and busted—was laid across the floor like a welcome mat.
He spotted you on the ground next to your bed, sitting criss-cross while attempting to repair something Fumi couldn’t name. He began to believe that you had some sort of sixth sense for him when you turn around with a grin.
“Hey, Fumi,” you addressed sweetly, patting the carpet beside you. “I’m trying to fix my mouthpiece.. freaking Katsuki blew off a chunk when he blew up my door. The epoxy is finicky, though. And, he killed my last reed! This is what I get for trying to grease the cork,” you rambled, waving your hands in the air, further punctuating each word. “I really don’t wanna buy new ones. A good mouthpiece can be like- ¥12,000! A five pack of the reeds I use is almost ¥9,000 too.”
He raised a feathered brow, “and what reed would that be?” Fumikage wasn’t quite sure what interest he took in this information.
You reached into the open case. Velcro ripped open, revealing a secret compartment holding an empty box. “These ones.” The minty green label read: Organic Reserve Baritone Saxophone Reeds. A mouthful, no?
The price is outrageous to him. He scoffs, “That much for 5 reeds?”
Alas, Fumikage couldn’t keep himself from examining the true value of these reeds alone in the dead of night. Dark Shadow fiddled with a string on somewhere nearby, pretending to be a ferocious woodland creature coupled with the roars of a lioness
The bright white of the online music shop’s interface made his bleary eyes ache. Damn, he should have closer catechized you about the mouthpiece.
He ended up with two mouthpieces in his cart, a fine ligature, as well as a box of your reeds. A small fortune, but he’s willing to spend. Fumikage Tokoyami, secret rich kid. Punk style can get expensive if you don’t have the time to customize it yourself, what did you expect?
Wednesday of the same week, you found a package waiting on your bed with a short handwritten note attached to it.
“I apologize. I was not sure which mouthpiece you’d benefit from most, so I’ve purchased two. From what I’ve read, they serve different purposes. Additionally, enjoy the reeds.”
Addressed as “Love, Fumi.”
Goodness gracious! Removing the products from the small cardboard box revealed the most ornate mouthpiece you’ve ever seen! Well, that’s quite an exaggeration, but still! You’d have to find a way to pay him back. Perhaps a payment plan? You read on,
“P.S., no you may not pay me back. Perhaps instead of monetary reimbursement, I will allow you to finally treat me to a weekend outing alone. To end such an event, you can play for me with the new equipment.”
Your face was stuck, it appeared. Perhaps this was the most memorable day of your life. The sweet gesture had rendered you purely giddy; giggling and adolescent, happiness coursing through your veins.
You tittered, echoing, “love, Fumi.”
-
In further hindsight, stepping into that classroom must have been the best thing Fumikage Tokoyami had ever done up until that point. Saturday had come and gone. You took him to some plaza occupied by an alternative store, followed by a calm(ish) cafe. A few people stared, but that sort of thing was bound to happen with both of you having been on the news more than once during your time at U.A. Not only did he tolerate your presence, he had snaked his hand into yours wordlessly while you were perusing a window. You caught the late train home, at a time where nightlife was just starting to come alive.
You rested your head on his shoulder, asking, “So, do you love me yet?”
Fumikage couldn’t help but to laugh amusedly. “I thought you said you’d stop asking me that once you let me take you out on a date?”
You shrugged, “One last time.”
Silence stretched between you two, an interlude in your light chatter.
“I suppose I do,” he replied at last. You raised your head, and placed a gentle kiss on the side of his beak.
“Awh. I’m glad to hear that, boyfriend.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you are.”
a/n
yayy another oneshot done! this is for you, anonymous new mha fan <3 also written to @aeshmatic whose blog i resonate with. please enjoy this work! abrazos and bisous,
This one is a little sappy. But i think Cross having a crush on someone isn’t very noticeable, unless you start noticing that he does very unnecessary acts of service specifically tailored to one person.
The duel is fun at first, battling for your honor and whacking him upside the skull—until you begin to feel his strikes grow more precise. Until he gets that locked, firey look in his sockets. Until he's calculating every step, every move you make before knocking you backwards, a swift foot-sweep bringing you down.
Before you know it you're being pushed onto your back and pinned at your wrists with one of his hands, the other holding the foam sword to your throat, Cross hovering over you with that triumphant grin—but it wavers the moment he sees that bit of blush creep onto your cheeks.
Cross's own cheekbones begin to warm.
He blinks.
"er..." His eyelights glance off somewhere else—anywhere else— "i uh... huh..." The sword lowers from your neck, discarded somewhere off to the side. The hand keeping your wrists above your head loosens, but doesn't let go just yet.
A beat passes.
"Guess you win, huh?" Your voice comes out more shy than you meant it to. "What now?"
Cross goes quiet for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to say something. He glances back at you before; "what do i get for winnin'?"
The sudden-hungry look in his sockets catches you off guard; still careful, yet holding a flame they can't seem to hide.
Now it's your turn to glance away.
"What did you have in mind?"
"depends..." Cross's eyelights travel from your eyes to your lips, taking their time as they drag back up. His once-shy smile flattens into something more focused when his hand gives your wrists the gentlest squeeze. "depends how much you'll give me."
So the deal is that i love centaurs rihr and horse shoe cleaning vidoes appeared on my fyp right snd so i remember this killer varient from way back then right
And i wanted to draw him right so basicallg
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