#sidewalkgloom

[sidewalkgloom]

burn up with the water

2.5k | bakugō & midoriya | angst | pre-canon

Izuku taps a knuckle against the door labeled 345. “It’s me,” he says, then remembers retrograde amnesia and goes to add his name, but hesitates and considers whether Kacchan will recognize ‘Deku’ better. Kacchan beats him to it and says— “Izuku.” Izuku holds his breath. The handle is cool against his sweaty palm. He slowly pokes his head into the room, and the first thing he catches is that Kacchan lacks his perpetual scowl. Then Kacchan smiles at him, and Izuku turns back around and shuts the door.

or

In which Bakugō Katsuki gets a head injury and Midoriya Izuku is bad at feelings.

Read the rest here.

[faeriekit]

Time and Time Again

phic phight fill for sidewalkgloom (no tumblr listed)

Time is a flat circle. 

Vlad is at the edge of his teenage years, his two best friends at his side. They are studying the science of ghosts. What are they? What can they do? Where do they hide? 

Time is a flat circle. 

Vlad wears the flimsy protection of a labcoat. It will not be enough. The portal hums to life just before his eyes, glimmering emerald and liquid malachite inside. 

It sings. 

Time is a flat circle.

Vlad sees the green— all the way up into his nose, his eyes, his mouth. There is a world on the other side of the portal. It is green and ice-cold and it is as loud as the thunder and buzzing in his ears—and he can see all of it—

The door is shut on him. Vlad never makes it to the other side. 

Time is a flat circle. 

*

Time is a flat circle. 

Danny is on the cusp of his teenage years, his two best friends at his side. They watch his parents study the science of ghosts. What are they? What can they do? Where do they hide? 

The questions remain unanswered.

Time is a flat circle.

Danny wears the flimsy protection of a hazmat suit. It will not be enough. The portal is a yawning, wide thing; Danny steps inside with caution.

The portal comes to life all around him, humming underneath his hands. It sings. 

Time is a flat circle.

Danny sees the green— all the way up into his nose, his eyes, his mouth, absorbing into his bones and clinging to scraps of flesh that tear underneath its electric hands. There is a world on the other side of the portal. It is green and ice-cold and it is as loud as the thunder and buzzing in his ears—

He falls outside of the portal, burnt and bruised and unmade and remade all over again. Danny does not make it the other side. 

Not yet, at least.

Time is a flat circle. 

Someone drags him upstairs. 

Time is a flat circle. 

There is someone waiting to meet him, who was made into the same creature as he, by the same hands, who knows the same familiar faces. 

Time is a flat circle. 

There are a hundred eyes of a hundred separate creatures in another world, all observing quietly. There will be no intervention. The creation was inevitable. Their future meeting is equally so. 

Time is a flat circle. Clockwork traces the rim of a thousand clock frames with his staff. The pair’s meeting is already over. Their meeting has yet to begun. He watches their introduction happen in present time in front of him, having already memorized their reactions to the other’s existence. 

Time is a flat circle. The memory is folded up, filed, and the drawer shut. 

[ashspecter]

Phic Phight 2024 Master Post;

I participated in Phic Phight this year on Team Ghost!

Please see the links to all my fics below.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Once you click on a fic, please read the tags! Some themes may not be suitable for some. Trigger Warnings are provided.

Total Words: 62k+

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ONE

@pennerjones's prompt: Clockwork tends Pariah Dark’s wounds after a hard battle.

All We Wanted (CW patches up PD's wounds) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: needles, wounds, etc.

TWO

@ashesoriley & @underforeversgrace's prompts: A look through Mr lancers eyes as he tries to figure out what's up with the Fenton kid (&) Lancer notices Something is up with the Fenton kid and intervenes.

Didn't You Know (Mr. Lancer Helps Danny) || Tumblr; Ao3

THREE

@lavendarlily's prompt: Who knew Danny Fenton was so agile? Paulina makes it her personal mission to get him on the cheer squad.

Gonna Make You a Star (Cheer AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

FOUR

@aggressivelyclueless's prompt: Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive?

All Boxed Up (Crack fic about BG's death) || Tumblr

TW: character death

FIVE

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme and @bellsandmischief's prompts: Danny is a merperson who has always been fascinated by humans (&) Danny, but make it Disney prince/princess.

The Little Phintom (Mer AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: Dark Magic, Body "Horror" (Danny gets legs), Body Modification

SIX

@duchi-nesten's prompt: Danny’s been enjoying spending time with Nocturn lately, even with the unfortunate side effect of his skin being replaced by stars. That’s… probably fine, right?

Becoming (Mentor Nocturn AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: Body Horror, Body Modification

SEVEN

@fangirlwriting-stories, @xscarletsakurax, @summerssixecho, @46-reasonable-hamsters, & @ikiracake prompts (I'm not going to post the prompts here lol):

I'll Be Your Hero (No One Knows Except Dash AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

EIGHT

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme and @bellsandmischief's prompts: Danny is a merperson who has always been fascinated by humans (&) Danny, but make it Disney prince/princess.

J.O.Y. (Just One Yesterday) (Vlad Time Travels) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: False Hope

NINE

@currentlylurking & @duchi-nesten's prompt: Nobody really knew anything about how the Ghost King was determined, but that didn’t change how sure they were that Danny Phantom would be the next king. It didn’t change how wrong they were, either. (&) Who knew being the ghost king included having to hold a tea party for all the still-existing, previous ghost kings? Surely not Danny.

Peace of Mind (Ghost King Danny) || Tumblr; Ao3

TEN

@jackdraw-spwrite & @ave-aria's prompts: There are more rooms in Clockwork's lair, Danny thinks, than he could find in a week of looking. So he opens doors, flies through windows. Explores. Clockwork lets him, and that means he can't get in too much trouble doing it, right? (&) "Someone once told me you can bring a person back to life just by remembering them."

A Haunting Melody (CW has a painful secret) || Ao3

TW: Implied Child Loss

ELEVEN

Chrysanthemum, @sidewalkgloom, @scarletsaphire, @hannahmanderr, @ghostlyhabato's prompts (I'm not going to post the prompts here either lol):

Boundaries & Baggage (CW has a curious past with PD) || Ao3

TWELVE

Dekalkomania, @kinglazrus, Saphir, @raaorqtpbpdy, @TourettesDog, @littlebadger, @fangirlwriting-stories, Lumi, @fentoaster, Ghxstkids, & @Anguished-Lurker's prompts (not posting prompts here):

Lightning In a Bottle (Danny is dying slowly) || Ao3

TW: Heavy Angst, Anxiety, Trauma, Abandonment, Character Death

THIRTEEN

@aggressivelyClueless & @bloggerspam's prompts: "Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive?" (&) Danny and Ellie Parent Trap a Fighting/Divorced Johnny and Kitty:

Fate Deals In Bad Luck || Tumblr; Ao3

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If links are broken or incorrect, please let me know! I'll fix them right away!

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Oh Dream Maker

oh, dream maker by sidewalkgloom

Kacchan twists his hand out from under Izuku's, and the force of it pulls Izuku out of orbit.

“You're out. It's over,” Aizawa-sensei says.

Words: 6109, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Class 1-A

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Angst, Codependency, Trauma, Aftermath, Discord: No Writing Academia Fic Fight, NWA Fic Fight Team Villains

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48015325

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Dented

dented by sidewalkgloom

The first step isn't the most difficult. It's all the steps that come after.

Words: , Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Kaminari Denki, Bakugou Katsuki

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Agoraphobia, Panic Attacks, Angst, Friendship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Discord: No Writing Academia Fic Fight, NWA Fic Fight Team Villains

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48086236

[ao3feed-bnha-girls]

Girls Against God

Girls Against God by sidewalkgloom

Her father says blue is a boy's color, and at six years old Jirō Kyōka's favorite color becomes a resistance.

Words: 3130, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, Gen

Characters: Jirou Kyouka, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yaoyorozu Momo, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

Relationships: Jirou Kyouka & Yaoyorozu Momo, Jirou Kyouka & Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo

Additional Tags: Angst, Misogyny, this is about being a girl, and the anger that the world hands you and then tells you not to use

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44689216

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

Girls Against God

Girls Against God by sidewalkgloom

Her father says blue is a boy's color, and at six years old Jirō Kyōka's favorite color becomes a resistance.

Words: 3130, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, Gen

Characters: Jirou Kyouka, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yaoyorozu Momo, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

Relationships: Jirou Kyouka & Yaoyorozu Momo, Jirou Kyouka & Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo

Additional Tags: Angst, Misogyny, this is about being a girl, and the anger that the world hands you and then tells you not to use

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44689216

[granny-griffin]

Griffin’s 2022 bnha fic recs

Take My Place on the Witness Stand by Quisanne

Yagi is arrested for stealing All Might's wallet

.

What They Say About Assumptions by JustGettingBy

Shinsou travels to the past, meets quirkless!midoriya, and comes to the reasonable conclusion that he must have gotten his quirk from all for one

.

why don't you take your heart out (instead of living in your head?) by afromaniiac

deku has a nice day for once in his life

.

How to have a shitty weekend but a pretty great brother by Lilly_Penwielder

natsuo is kidnapped

.

and if that mockingbird don't sing by SpiritusRex

Yoichi babysits baby Izuku

.

Onigiri Bomb by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

midoriya isn't sure if he should tell all might that they are soulmates

.

Safe & Sound by calamityisback

overhaul kidnaps yaoyorozu to force her to create his weapons for him

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same look in your eyes by OwlF45

izuku has lived eight times already

.

show me family by the_crownless_queen

to keep from blowing their cover, bakugou and uraraka pretend to be siblings. complete with hilarious evil henchmen

.

burn up with the water by sidewalkgloom

after a head injury, bakugou forgets that he and midoriya ever stopped being friends

.

Forged by Fire by sabertoothhousecat

identity shenanigans with vigilante fuyumi

.

You can go through the rest of my ao3 bookmarks here!

[sidewalkgloom]

Objects [in the mirror are closer than they appear]

2.3k | tenya & tensei iida | character study

Tensei’s hair has grown since they shaved it for the surgery. That’s the first thing Tenya discerns, maybe because he’s afraid to look lower. Tiny spikes of blue stick out in every direction. Tenya kind of wants to touch it, so he does. A little noise pokes at Tenya’s ears. He looks down. Tensei’s hand clasps his, no longer big enough to swallow it up, just the right size to fit his fingers in the spaces between Tenya’s. “Hey, little brother,” whispers Tensei. His eyes sparkle. “Hey, Tensei,” Tenya answers. Tensei reaches out and runs fingers over the buzzed hair along Tenya’s nape. He pulls until they meet over the hospital bed, forehead to forehead. Tenya breaks the surface and breathes.

or

Iida Tenya runs until his blood is in the mouth of the man who stilled his brother’s legs

Then, he stands.

Read the rest here.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

@sidewalkgloom replied to your post “in 2016 the night before prom when I was out picking a clown-colored dress with my friend group—who only tolerated each other...”

Frank, it pains me to have confirmed an idea that has been buzzing in the back of my mind—and occasionally at the tips of my fingers—for seven years. Joy is temporary and the fall is inevitable.

That's not accurate at all -- I'm just a poorly organized person who is naturally inclined toward unhappiness who also happens to have a fairly consistent MO of habitually forgetting to be happy

[sidewalkgloom]

le manège [you’re my favorite never-ending start]

Hitoshi’s teeth ache.

The rest of him, too, but mostly it’s his teeth—steady pulse that crawls past his temples and burrows into his scalp. He coughs, then chokes. Turns over onto his stomach, or tries to, and pulls what feels like all of the muscles in his neck.

“Shit—” his throat burns, his lungs, his knees, ankles; they cramp with a familiar heat. The floor scraping up against his cheek is a dull gray, the air a stale and humid slog in the back of his mouth. Mold, probably.

It takes a few measured breaths and another coughing fit to pick apart the distinctive tightness crushing his bare hands and feet together. For a moment, it’s nothing but Hitoshi and the panic. He yanks, hisses, ignites the fire in his joints, just about cracks his skull against the concrete and twists round and round in the dark. At some point, this had to happen. Top hero school in the country, in a class that would be hunted for sport if left out in the open for about fifteen minutes. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into—but this? Across the room—or wherever the fuck he is—something breathes.

Hitoshi wakes up in a locked room. This was bound to happen.

the rest on AO3.

[sidewalkgloom]

oh, dream maker

6.1k | bakugō & midoriya | angst | codependency

The walls are a familiar white. He squeezes down on the phantom of hand in his. Then the fear takes hold. Fire along his veins, stuttering drum in his ears, the tightening of a wire. This is familiar, too. He sits up, a name on his exhale and limbs scrabbling over white, white sheets, searching for that other hand, that other voice, and Kacchan’s ruby red eyes snap open and zero in on Izuku. “Ah, you’re okay.” Kacchan stays still long enough for Izuku to think that maybe he isn’t, and the embers begin to spark, and then Kacchan shoves an elbow underneath him and sits up. The grunt that pushes past his lips isn’t pained—but full up with the same kind of stuffiness stirring in Izuku’s chest. A bird chirps outside. Izuku slides backwards on the bed until his back is to Kacchan, and watches the clouds sail. The air is clear, and the edges don’t deepen, or blacken, or close in. Something hopeful and brittle climbs Izuku’s face. He turns. Sheets rustle. “Do you think…?” “Maybe, nerd.” “It’s so bright.” Kacchan nods once, stiff. Izuku’s fingers twitch. Reaching across the gap between their beds, Kacchan clasps Izuku’s wrist, thumb pressing in. Izuku tugs back until he can fit his hand into Kacchan’s. The quiet is long and the stillness soft. Recovery Girl’s office is neat as ever. They’re ready when the door handle twists, feet planted and every muscle rippling with tension. The door swings open and it’s not something shapeless that fills the doorway, but the form of Aizawa-sensei. They edge closer together, back towards the window with the singing birds. “Good, you’re up,” it says with Aizawa-sensei’s mouth, in Aizawa-sensei’s cadence. “The villain has been apprehended. Recovery Girl already cleared you, you can join your classmates tomorrow.” Aizawa-sensei’s eyes regard them with a sharpness wholly distinct from the worn-out cloak he wears. “What’s wrong?” it says. Kacchan doesn’t lose his temper, like Izuku wants to. “Bakugō. Midoriya.” Aizawa’s form sighs. His nose is red and chafing. When he slips his right hand from the pocket of his pants, a crumpled tissue sits tucked in his palm. Kacchan twists his hand out from under Izuku’s, and the force of it pulls Izuku out of orbit. “You’re out. It’s over,” Aizawa-sensei says.

Read the rest here.

[sidewalkgloom]

and when the fog rises

somebody sighs who is not in disguise anymore.

The dust ebbs at Kamino, and Toshinori doesn’t look up. The ache is bone-deep and familiar. It’s wires that criss-cross through his muscles and knot at the joints, contort in the cave under his ribs. He keeps his eyes on the floor—hopes his hand can do the talking, just like it always does.

Toshinori’s cleared skyscrapers with his jumps, but he thinks this one he can’t land.

The silence scatters in the atmosphere. Cheers and howls gather above, crowding the sky and the air and Toshinori can barely breathe, barely see. It weighs down atop him like the heavens reached down and laid over him their own hand.

He takes solace in the safety of his students.

Izuku and Toshinori sit in the sand and lean on each other, arm against bandaged arm, shoes tossed aside and water between their toes. They pretend the salt in Toshinori’s shirt is seawater. They giggle over little stories, about old classmates and chance encounters and silly blunders, and everything is as it was.

Toshinori wakes up and doesn’t want to open his eyes. He counts to five, then seven, then nine. Opens his eyes. If he takes a deep breath now he’ll never get up from his bed, so he sighs and wrangles his limbs into sitting.

The floor is chilly against his bare feet. He’s forgotten his slippers by the front door again.

Grumbling, Toshinori stumbles to the bathroom and flicks the lights on, then off. Too damn bright, they always were; reflecting off the blinding tiles and porcelain. No one deserves a headache in the morning. He thinks again about remodeling the bathroom to some muted color. Brushes his teeth. Green, maybe. Lathers soap on his face. Or beige. Gets some in his eye, cusses. Knows he won’t do it.

He toes out towards the closet, trying to touch the ground as little as possible. Grabs hold of the knob and yanks. Runs his fingers over all his shirts and pants. All too big, so they don't rip apart at the seams. He tries to remember the feel of clothes that fit and stretch. Pulls a white shirt off the hanger. Thinks about the cold floor beneath his feet. Pulls a jacket off, too.

He’s barely stepped over the doormat when a harsh breeze sweeps up his shirt. Gritting his teeth, Toshinori slams the door and locks it.

He makes it to the metro station before he’s recognized. Then the first person yells.

“All Might!”

“Where—”

“That’s All Might!”

“Oh my God, All Might, is it true th—”

“Sign my face—!”

“—fan, All Might!”

“What are you doing about—”

“Thank you for—”

“—and do you still—”

“Have you—?”

“All—”

“—Might.”

Nothing is sure, Toshinori knows, except that the bubble will pop and it’ll all come down. No thing can be held up forever; Toshinori is living proof. He breathes and eats it. He’s known it since Nana sat him down on a rooftop’s ledge and spun a tale of two brothers, a line of dead heroes, and an orphaned kid.

Still, some nonsensical part of him thought that if he stepped carefully enough, made all the right choices, he could make this last forever.

Peace is funny that way. Pump your image high enough, spread your face far enough, and people start to feel you everywhere. The illusion is enough, as long as it stands still enough. Sensation, power, confidence; it’s only really peace when it’s endless. Who wants to live on a time limit? And yet. And yet.

Toshinori isn’t ignorant, but knowing the diagnosis doesn’t cure the disease. He’s not past tossing and turning over total societal collapse just yet. He knows, he does. No building has ever stood on a single pillar, but Toshinori was young and bright-eyed and hopeful still, and when you can save a person with nothing more than a flick of the wrist, it stops being a choice.

It carries on until Izuku spears a foot straight through the debris aiming to make Toshinori a victim. The pride outweighs the shame, for a time, so he shoves it into the backseat and slams the door. His boy has come such a long way.

Later, when he’s alone between two doors and his shitty, blinding fucking bathroom, it claws its way to the wheel and drives them straight into a ditch. Toshinori grips the sink, his knuckles a matching porcelain white, and prays.

It never gets easier, is the thing. A thousand times Toshinori wished to lie right there and never show hair nor grin again, but knew the rot would seep into the streets before long.

Toshinori doesn’t have that, now. He can lay here forever, and nothing will ever go wrong without him, because everything already has.

[sidewalkgloom]

Girls Against God

3.1k | angst | misogyny

The store is crowded and hung with banners and ruffles and Back To School cheer. Basket full of glittery pens and flower-shaped erasers, Kyōka wanders over to the rows of school bags. It has to be the best—she’s going to look amazing for the first day of the first grade (her first first!), but she’s torn between two bags: a sparkly purple and a metallic blue. Her father says blue is a boy’s color, and at six years old Jirō Kyōka’s favorite color becomes a resistance.

Read the rest here.