#recent events has me wondering if being a failure is an inescapable part of my dna.

[skunkes]

Hope it doesn't come off insensitive but its rlly comforting to me to see im not alone in being unable to start transition and feeling a lotta feelings about it. Shits really hard and its harder when ur alone yk... heres to hoping maybe its in the future i guess?

Yaaa the immediate tear starter that is "in 5 years i still wont be on T" has only gotten more devastating with every year that has passed since I was 11. Its hawrd! I dont know if I'll ever have it, hoping its in the near future of someone else though

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: something sad (Anger)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ AU. 

Katsuki gets the worst sort of wake up call, takes a look at himself, and doesn’t like what he sees. 

Characters:  Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

WARNINGS: Major Character death (mentioned but not described). Swearing. heavy angst. destructive behaviour.

(Follow up part here)

...

(Anger-  In which  Katsuki does not handle tragedy well  and implodes)

“Katsuki, son, you should come inside.”

Katsuki barely feels the soft touch of a hand on his shoulders as his father attempts to guide him over the threshold. He remains in place, glaring at the older man, unwilling to move. His father sighs and gives up on trying to move him, instead talking over his head, addressing the police officer behind him. 

“Where did you find him this time?”

“The park down the road. We had reports of a kid setting off explosives with multiple noise complaints from the nearby apartments...” The sound of the conversation washes over him, muffled in his growing irritation. He feels that familiar burning anger ignite, fuelling his resentment. “...repeated unlicensed quirk use can lead to time in a juvenile quirk correction facility.”

“We’re sorry for the disruption officer,” his father dips his head, “We’ll keep a better eye on him from now on.”

“See that you do. Next time, he’ll be taking a trip to the station. I would hate to see a kid with so much potential...”

“What fucking potential!” Katsuki snarls, whipping around to glare at the officer behind him. Bitterness curdles in his stomach, exasperated by the expression of disappointment directed his way. What right did this stranger have to look at him like that! He looked at Katsuki like he wasn’t living up to expectations!

“You don’t know a thing about me!” 

“Katsuki,” His father tries to interrupt.

“Why the fuck….

“Katsuki.” This time the interruption is louder, hash, “That’s enough.”

He scowls, shoving past his father, shrugging away from the comforting hand as he goes, “I’ll be in my room, don’t come in.” 

He stomps through the living room and down the hallway, sparks running up and down his arms. If his mum were home she might have yelled at loud his entrance, telling him to stop with the racket. She would probably have had some choice words to say about the police escort as well. She wasn’t home. She wouldn’t be home till later, having spent most of her afternoon with Aunt Inko.  

Before he can get to his room, he catches his father’s tired voice as he continues his conversation with the officer.

 “…still processing the death of a friend. He’s going through a rough patch...thank you for your leniency.”

He slams the door with enough force that it rattles the wall. With his back against the frame, he clenches and unclenches his fist, breathing hard.

Friend?  FRIEND! HA! 

Deku had never been his friend. Or rather, he had never been Deku’s friend. Deku had probably seen him as a friend, always following him around, whinging when he got too rough with other kids. The quirkless idiot had always been trying to help when Katsuki didn’t need help! He had never needed Deku!

He smashes a fist into his desk and the wood creeks, splintering but holding together. There are more sparks and the pop, pop, pop of tiny explosions. The computer barely escapes his next attack which sees the desk cracking, his books and pens crashing to the floor. 

“Damnit.”

If he wasn’t Deku’s friend, then why was he so angry! He couldn’t think. He couldn’t sleep. All he could do was feel angry. Burning directionless anger that ate at him, leaving him hollow. It followed him through his every waking moment. Inescapable and all-consuming. 

“DAMNIT!”

…

School is a chore. It’s boring.  Long. Tiresome. Pointless. The other kids were either idiots, dragging out simple lessons into weeklong ordeals, or so pathetic they never grasped the concepts at all. This is nothing new. School had always been boring and full of pathetic extras. For the longest time, school to Katsuki had been nothing more than a stepping stone on his way to greatness. Now it wasn’t even that.

He taps a single, impatient finger against his desk, glaring at the clock as it slowly ate away at the seconds left in the day. 

“Bakugo.”

He deliberately ignores the teacher’s attempt to get his attention. It wasn’t like he was going to get in trouble for the behaviour. She would simply shake her head, humouring his poor attitude like it wasn’t a huge fucking problem. Sometimes Katsuki wondered if he didn’t have some second quirk that projected an invisible bullshit shield, preventing others from seeing what a failure he was.

Today, the call is followed up by another, more insistent one. 

“Bakugo.” 

He tears his eyes from the clock.

“You’re being called to the principal’s office.”

 “Huh?” he drawls. 

“You must not have heard the announcement,” his teacher explains, her expression apologetic, “It was over the intercom so you better hurry.” By now, every eye in the class is on him, waiting for his reaction. The pathetic extras on either side of him are even leaning ever so slightly to the side like they expect him to blow his top any moment. 

“Whatever.” He stands, ignoring the wave of whispers that run through the class in hissed voices. When he steps through the door the voices get a bit louder, so loud that the teacher needs to call them to order, “Settle down. Now if you would turn your attention to this next question.” 

He shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks down the hall to his destination. When he arrives at the door he lifts a leg and kicks so it jumps open and smacks into the wall with a loud CRACK. The sudden action has both his principal, Mr Fukuhara, and that woman representing the district’s Careers Board-he can’t remember her name- startling. 

“You called?” 

They are both seated on the low couches placed at the front of the room adjacent to the principal’s desk. The only times he has been allowed to sit on these couches were during parent/teacher meetings.

“Ah, yes Bakugo,” Mr Fukuhara straightens his tie, recovering first, “Please take a seat.”

Katsuki slouches onto the closet couch opposite them, listening to the principal ramble his way through a greeting, “Now, we tried to have your parents come in but they were both unfortunately busy. Nevertheless, this is an important conversation to be hand and we want you to understand that the school is dedicated to….”

He exhales, cutting off the diatribe, “Am I in trouble.”

“No. No trouble. Though this does involve your recent behaviour.”

Of course, he wasn’t in trouble. He curls one hand into a fist, familiar anger beginning to bubble up, increasing in intensity.  

“We received your revised high school submission forms,” Ms Career Advice starts, “and we think there has been a mistake. We want to clear it up as quickly as possible.”

So that is what this meeting was about.

“What mistake?” He grunts even when he knows precisely what they’re talking about. 

“It says here that you're applying to Aldera Senior High.”

“Yeah, 80% of the losers in this shit hole are going Aldera Senior High. What’s the problem?”

The two adults exchange a meaningful glance. For a brief second, he thinks he might get told off for swearing. No such luck. Mr Fukuhara simply sighs and continues like Katsuki hadn’t said anything.

 “We were under the impression that you would be applying to U.A.?  You have it written on your original submission forms.”

“So what. I’m not allowed to change my mind? U.A. is a selective school…I’m just being realistic.” The words feel like ash in his mouth. Hadn’t he said something similar to Deku not too long ago?

“Your academic performance is more than high enough to qualify and with your quirk…”

He slams his clenched fist into the arm of the couch, cutting the woman off. There is an audible pop, pop around his hands, made loud in the sudden silence. God, would people shut up about is quirk for one second! Both adults pause, expressions a mix of worried and concerned. He hates it. He hates them. 

“I got a zero on my last test,” he snaps, “My average sucks now. I’m just like the rest of the extras here.”

“Yes, well, there were extenuating circumstances in that case. When looking at your academic history overall you’re dedication is obvious,” another pause, “even in the unlikely event that you did not get into U.A. there are plenty of other, top-rate schools that you can apply to as backups.”

Katsuki doesn’t bother responding, opting instead to stand. They weren’t going to listen so there was no point in him being here. 

“Bakugo  please sit back down.” Fukuhara stands as well, voice now stern, “This is an important conversation. You can’t just walk away.”

“Watch me.” He turns towards the door but before he can move there is the lighter touch of a hand at his elbow. 

“I understand that you have taken recent…events…rather hard,” says Ms Career Advice and her voice is softer, more sympathetic, addressing him like he is some startled child, “but you need to think about your future. Don’t throw away this opportunity out of some misplaced guilt…” 

“I’m not fucking going to U.A.!” 

He jerks his arm away, glaring over his shoulder, trying to force some of the fire burning in his chest into his eyes. It must have worked because the woman immediately stops talking, drawing away. 

“How much shit do I have to pull for you morons to get that through your thick skulls,” he growls as he stalks out of the room, the two adults rushing to follow.

“…see… councillor…talk …. your parents. This sort of self-destructive…” The words wash over him as he continues down the hall. 

Katsuki doesn’t bother returning to class, opting to ditch and leave the idiots and their bullshit behind.  He is too angry to concentrate anyway. Until now he has had a perfect attendance record, always meticulous in his show of dedication. 

And that’s all it really was wasn’t it…a show. None of that shit mattered now.

Hands in his pockets, Katsuki wonders aimlessly down the sidewalk, through side streets, jacket to his uniform thrown over his shoulder so he doesn’t overheat under the hot summer sun. At least out here, he is free to be as angry as he liked without people nagging him. He could glare all he wanted at the cracked pavement and it wouldn’t burst into tears. Maybe, he will go blow up some trees in a local park and the police would finally come through on their threat to take him in to the station. It’s tempting…very tempting.

It would have to be somewhere without people-harder to find on such a nice day- because as much as he wanted, needed, to blow shit up, he didn’t want to injure anyone…

Now you grow conscious… too little too late....the treacherous part of his mind hisses. The thought feeds his anger like gasoline on an open flame.  

(Follow up part here)