#Shut Hell has multi-circle irises too.

[pyeryte]

I love revenge plots that focus on like, the emotion of revenge instead of the act of revenge itself. When people sympathize with understand that hatred and either regret doing it or spur it on. The blind hatred. I love it all. It definitely doesn’t feel morally right, but I love reading about revenge. Protag or not. 

I found that when characters let go of that revenge for little reasons, it’s boring and anticlimatic. “This character got over their toxic emotion of hatred! It’s a good thing!” and in my mind, I’m wondering what’s going to drive them now. Is this character’s fickle relationship really enough to distract the wronged from their target? Was their vengence really that strong to begin with?

Anyways, this is about Shut Hell.

[taocastleprincess]

inktober for writers - days 10 + 11 - honor + seaons / eijiroctober - days 10 + 11 - fantasy outfit + dragon Kiri

A/N: I reaaaaaaaally like what came out of this little writing exercise. like, i’m considering a longterm multi-chap?? esp since i left this REALLY open ended. sooo like tell me what you think? i love comments/criticism/love/suggestions!!

fic under the cut!

Dragons have always been ostracized. They’re too big, too destructive, too brutish, too inhuman. They are said to be too dumb to control their fire breathing, killing crops and animals and even children in fits of irritation or anger. Their transformations hint at a demonic origin, they’re Satan’s spawn, grandmothers whisper to their toddlers after tucking them in at night. They are dangerous, mystical beings that ought to be left alone. Or killed. Kirishima is sure that in another world, another universe or time or place, dragons would be appreciated, celebrated even. There would still be tales about them but only ones that paint them in a light that inspires hope or courage. They’d team up with princes and knights to take down wicked witches or evil kings. They’d have power and influence running hot with the blood in their veins, like the blazing red of molten lava. They would be heroes. Would be. If the world were different and humans were more understanding. Less cruel and more loving. If they’d only try to get outside of their own limited understanding of the world things would be different... So different that he wouldn’t have to be hauling ass through the expanse of a dark forest to get away from men who wanted to rip him apart and skin his dragon form for their winter boots. Kirishima runs. Keeps running until he’s blue in the face and, after that, he pushes himself to go even further. He’s weighed down with the heavy feelings of fear and guilt, stomach knotting more from intense sympathy than the burst of personal despair gripping his heart. He didn’t even think twice before leaving his friend behind... His only friend. The person who had saved him from certain death, going out of their way to help him recover from a critical sword wound, giving Kirishima his time, his magic, risking his reputation, his freedom to help a dragon that laid quickly dying on the side of a road. Why did he leave him behind? How did he leave him behind? What kind of dragon leaves behind a friend in need at the drop of a pence? As soon as a little trouble starts brewing? When did he become so cowardly and disgusting, being able to leave behind the only friend, the only family he’s ever known, to deal with bloodthirsty scoundrels on their own? Kirishima trips. His foot catches on a vine, sending his whole body flying forward at high speed. He hits the ground with a loud thud and an eery CRACK of bones breaking. His side immediately lights up with searing pain, the impact of such a rough landing obviously jostling the placement of a few of his ribs. As the bounty hunters quickly close in on him, Kirishima starts to feel hot tears run down his face in rivulets. He’s so ridden with guilt he isn’t even crying over his almost certain death at the hands of these men. He can’t tear his thoughts away from the alchemist-in-training who has probably already met a worse fate. His body shakes violently at the thought of his soft-hearted green-eyed companion. His tears burn his skin, the memory of Midoriya being roughly restrained and tied up in preparation of a probably violent interrogation makes him sick. Midoriya was only a target because of his ties to HIM and Kirishima had the audacity, the sheer cowardice, to leave him alone and defenseless in order to save his own ass. He deserves to die. He stares at the men approaching him through watery eyes. The black of their clothing blend in seamlessly with the darkness of the forest. A sharp contrast to the glittering silver of their sharp sabers, sparkling menacingly under the cover of moonlight. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even breathe as the leader of the group steps forward to finish the job. He’s over six feet tall, bald, and ugly with a taunting face and a bulging neck. He walks forward slowly with his saber drawn and pointed towards Kirishima’s throat. He chuckles darkly, a hollow sound that chills the redhead’s spine. “When I finally get back home, after hanging yer scaly ass head from my fireplace, I gotta go to the temple ‘n’ thank the gods for this piece o’ shit death trap.” He opens his arms and slowly turns in a circle, faux-marveling at the forest. “Ya almost got away, ya little shit. Didn’t even know scum like you could run that fast when yer outta yer real form. Shit. Thought ya were high off some witches’ salt or somethin’,” he laughs. The sound grates Kirishima’s nerves. He glares at the man but he doesn’t dare speak. If anything, he’ll just earn himself a painful death. If he’s going to die like this, he’s gonna go out as painless as possible. “Ya can’t speak, dragon?” Kirishima blinks wordlessly and the man laughs again. “Oh, I get it. Yer gonna go out bein’ all dignified ‘n’ quiet ‘n’ shit, yeh?” The smile on his face twists into a thing of wickedness. “Let’s see how yer friend’ll take it when we come back with ya cut up into tiny pieces ‘n’ we tell him that you took it like a real man,” he smiles devilishly and starts waving his sword about. “Don’t you fucking dare,” Kirishima’s voice comes out in a hoarse, pained whisper. The toll of broken bones and a crushed spirit affecting his ability to speak. Another laugh. “Just jokin’ wit’ ya! I only get paid the full amount if ya come back chopped up ‘n’ the kid gets delivered in his right mind. The gruesome truth will be just between ya ‘n’ me.” He winks at Kirishima with a creepy amount of enthusiasm. “Ya know what they say?” Kirishima continues to glare at him, so much hatred seeping out of his pores it is almost tangible. “Two can keep a secret if one of ‘em is de—“ A crudely made arrow slices through the air and pierces the man’s neck. The man looks terrified and confused, mouth moving and trying to communicate around the arrow currently lodged in his throat but his damaged voice box and the blood pooling out of his mouth prevents him from offering up more than watery gurgles. Another arrow flies from above Kirishima’s head and lodges itself into the man’s heart. He falls backwards, body lifelessly collapsing to the ground as blood continues to overflow from his open mouth. A stronger wave of fear takes Kirishima by surprise. He can’t fight an enemy he can’t see. He can’t fight at all, actually, with his body in such a condition and being too weak to switch forms. The biological alarm that’s telling his entire brain and body and soul to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE is useless. His energy is sapped, his limit reached. Not even the healthy dose of adrenaline pumping through his veins are enough to help him escape. He watches on in terror as the arrows start traveling through the air at now rapid rates, effectively killing or incapacitating the rest of the five or six men that had come with their now-dead leader. The entire ambush only spans about two minutes, but Kirishima’s anxiety leads him to believe he’s been vulnerable for hours. Watching the dead or fallen men around him become decorated with arrows pains him. Not because they didn’t deserve it. They most certainly did. If he’s being honest, they deserved an end even less merciful than this for harming Midoriya in the way that they did. However, as easy as they got off in Kirishima’s eyes, it still looked like an anguishing death. The screaming, the wide eyes of confusion and fright. Looks of horror overtaking entire faces at the realization that they were dying finally set in. It looked like something he didn’t want to experience first hand. Kirishima waits for his arrow. He squeezes his eyes shut, some childish part of him still believing that not seeing something makes it less unbearable. He shrinks himself into a ball and waits. He prays to any god that will listen to a pathetic dragon like him that he’ll luck up and get an arrow that kills him instantly. He also sends a prayer up for Midoriya, asking the god of luck and fortune to make a way for him to escape the clutches of the men who captured him. He prays for other things, little things, like good otter tail in the afterlife and a some dwarf-made beer just to whet his tastes. It’s been so long, so, so long since he’s had a decent meal and something to drink that wasn’t dirty river water.... Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. If what the templars and priests were always saying was true, maybe he’d have a better time after death. With endless food, kind neighbors, angels with locks like gold helping him along his w— “You gonna stay like that, Scales-for-Brains? Get the fuck up, you lazy piece of shit, we gotta get goin’. Fuckin’ hell, look at your sorry ass! I was thinkin’ that we could fly off real fast, but you smell like someone kicked the shit outta you.” When Kirishima looks up from the ground, he sees a man about his age peering down at him. He’s shirtless, necklaces of red- and blue-dyed sharkteeth adorning his neck and chest, with a red cape lined with fur decorating his shoulders. The moonlight catching the fringe of his bang reveals his hair to be a dirty blond color, wild and unruly. Kirishima doesn’t have to guess about the color of his eyes either, as they glow supernaturally bright, crimson colored irises glaring down at him in irritation. “Can you understand me, dumbass? I said I can smell all the internal bleeding you got right now! You’re gonna fuckin’ die if you just lay here, get your sorry ass up.” Before Kirishima can even process what’s happening, he’s yanked to his feet by the foul mouthed blond. Sharp pains rake his entire side, broken bones jostling and hitting places that they really shouldn’t. Kirishima fights the urge to punch the man in his face. “If you can tell that I’m hurt why the hell are you dragging me around like a rag doll? And what’s your deal? You just meet random people and start cursing them out?” The blond rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Scales-for-Brains. You don’t know me, but I know you. So just get with the fuckin’ program already,” the man huffs and Kirishima feels like he’s a wayward child being scolded. “Gods, I fuckin’ swear, anytime that little dick Deku needs anything from me I end up getting the shit end of the stick. One day I’m just gonna tell him to fuck off.” Kirishima forgets the gravity of the situation for a bit as his curiosity piques. “You know me? From where? Have we met before?” The blond gives him a look of irritation and starts stomping off, away from the carnage. “He— Hey! I’m talking to you!” “I know that, dumbass, keep it the fuck down before you wake up a demon boar or something. I’ll leave your ass quick and in a hurry. And don’t forget it,” Kirishima scrambles after him as quickly as he can with broken ribs. “We haven’t met, I just know about you from that shit ass alchemist that you follow around.” Kirishima’s heart races. “You know Midoriya?!” “Didn’t I just say that?” Kirishima can’t see the blond’s face but he’s almost sure that his face is scrunched up in a mean look. Since when did Midoriya hang around such..... unfortunate company? “You said he contacted you? How? When? He’s in a lot of trouble right now! Those guys attacked us at his home and they have him tied up! I know that they just wanted me but they’re ready to kill him if he doesn’t cooperate! And now that I’m gone and their acco—“ “Do you ever shut the fuck up? Shit. Obviously, he’s not too bad if he had the energy to summon a pigeon to get my attention.” Kirishima continues to shuffle after the blond, but the latter slows down, so he’s able to catch his breath a bit. “Just now?” “Probably an hour’s passed since then. Maybe two. I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment. “And those guys weren’t after you, dumbass. They probably just saw a fuckin’ dragon and decided to take advantage. Dragon hides go for big money these days. Could feed a whole fuckin’ village with just your right claw on a fuckin’ stick.” “Yes, I know,” Kirishima responds bitterly. The blond whips his head to study Kirishima’s face. “Apologies. That was shitty. But, yeah, they’re not after you. They’re after shitty Deku and whatever fuckin’ shit he found out after he stuck his nose in the king’s business. Idiot.” He turns his head back around to continue navigating and Kirishima thinks about all of this information quietly. Was Midoriya working on something that dangerous without telling him? Of course, he knew that the only reason Midoriya wouldn’t have told him about whatever he discovered was because it was potentially life-threatening information. Unfortunately, though, the truth of the matter doesn’t make the betrayal sting any less. “So are they going to kill him? For knowing whatever he knows?” “Nah, they’ll interrogate him for awhile. The king loves torture. It’ll probably be months before they finally let ‘im kick the bucket.” The other boy relays this information to Kirishima as if they were discussing the upcoming weather in Driwox. The casual tone of his voice prevents the knowledge from numbing Kirishima’s brain. “And you’re not gonna do anything about it? Didn’t he call you for help? I was assuming you guys were friends, but you’re just strolling along after you acknowledged that he’s gonna die in the span of a few months if he doesn’t get released! That doesn’t bother you? What the hell is your issue?” He doesn’t realize that he’s yelling until the blond whips around and smashes his hand over his mouth. “Shut the fuck up, Scales-for-Brains. We’re trying to get back to my place without getting mauled!” The blond is whisper-yelling, his face so close to Kirishima’s he can smell the hotness of his breath as he speaks. Cinnamon. The shirtless man sighs looking Kirishima in the eyes with a solemn look. “Look, I know firsthand about how shitty he’s about to have it. If it were up to me, I’d be treating the rest of the king’s lapdogs to some Stfkier arrows right up the ass.” Kirishima watches the man’s face alight with a strong combination of sadness and unbridled anger. “But that’s not what that shithead told me to do. He asked me to find you, make sure you’re safe, and to run some errands for him.” Kirishima’s eyebrows unconsciously rise. The other man laughs. “Yeah, fuckin’ errands. Like the little dick is goin’ off on vacation and not being fuckin’ targeted by the monarchy.” He shakes his head furiously, but the look on his face is a tad bit fond. “He sounds crazy, but whatever he found is apparently worth securing by any means necessary.” The blond moves his hands away from Kirishima’s mouth. The redhead was already feeling drained with all of the trouble accumulating around him, but now he’s discovering a level of fatigue that he never knew existed before. “So he’s sacrificing himself.” It’s meant to sound like a question, but his tone falls flat.

He feels like sleeping for a thousand years. Maybe he will. Without Midoriya there’s nothing to stick around for anyway. “We’re not lettin’ him, Shitty Hair. So stop lookin’ like a lost puppy,” the blond’s voice cuts through his thoughts and brings him back to attention. “We’ve got a little time between now and Deku’s execution. If we can follow-through with everything on his list, we can get him released. Whatever he found must be enough to throw the entire royal court up in flames.” Kirishima’s eyes widen with surprise. “‘We?’ You’re trusting me to help you with this? With whatever could destroy the stability of an entire kingdom? Yeah, no. Not even Midoriya thought I could handle that.” At the last statement, his heart drops. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up, though. Humans aren’t wired to trust dragons with their whole, entire beings. Their distrust of dragons is biological, built in. Not even a kind soul like Midoriya was exempt from something that ingrained. “Hey. Don’t be a little shit. Deku was protecting you.  And you know that. He’d trust you with the entire moon if it were his to give. Believe me. I get sick of hearing about your dumbass all the time. You’re his closest friend. Have a little more faith in him.” After letting his words sink in for a bit, the blond folds his arms over his chest and fixes him with a challenging stare. “So you in or not? Say no and I’ll kick your wingless ass.” Kirishima rolls his eyes. “You don’t even know me. You’ve only heard about me. I doubt I can help you complete whatever tasks Midoriya laid out for you. I’m just... Just me. And ‘just me’ isn’t enough to save anyone. I’ve tried before,” Kirishima explains. He thanks the all-encompassing darkness shrouding them as steamy tears threaten to fall again. The other man is quiet for a long while. They continue walk in silence until they reach the edge of the forest, the trees thinning to reveal a large field of grass as far as the eyes can see. Now that they’re out of the forest, the moonlight is bright enough to illuminate the world around them. The field of grass seems almost unreal, the light giving it an ethereal glow. Kirishima wonders if they’re about to cross a faerie field. “Look,” the blond begins, cutting into Kirishima’s thoughts for the countless time tonight. “You’re right. I don’t know you, don’t know shit about you. All I know is that I gotta get Deku outta whatever shit he’s tangled up in now and this time I need help.” His crimson eyes glow even brighter under the moonlight, more intense than they’ve ever been so far. “I’m not asking you to be anything more than what you are.” “A dragon?” “A friend,” the man corrects. “You think this whole deal is complicated and out of your reach, but it’s not. The most important thing he needs right now is people rallying behind him makin’ things happen. That’s all. I just need you to be a friend. We can figure the rest of this shit out as we go along.” Kirishima wavers under his heavy gaze. He wants to be agreeable, to help Midoriya but... His mind flashes back to a scene from only a few hours ago. It keeps replaying desperately he ran from Midoriya’s attackers instead of staying and fighting for him, with him. He’s not at all qualified for this. He isn’t a friend. He’s a traitor, a coward. Lower than scum. “I left him there,” Kirishima says simply. His body heaves in despair and a sharp pain shakes his whole body. Hopefully one of those broken ribs will pierce his heart. “So redeem yourself. Grow. Make this a fuckin’ quest to redeem your honor. I don’t know, Shitty Hair. I really don’t. All I know is: sitting on your ass and crying about what you did in the past ain’t gonna help anyone. You’re just abandoning him again.” The blond gently places a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. The redhead dares to meet his eyes and is surprised to see them holding an emotion other than aggressive irritation. His gaze is gentle, careful. “Buck up, Scales. Seriously. He wouldn’t have wanted you to fight them anyway. You definitely woulda got yourself killed.” And just like that, the gentleness is gone, compassion evaporating like a shallow puddle on a midsummer’s day. “So what now? What’re you gonna do, Scales-for-Brains? I ain’t got all night. I need to sleep.” The blond holds Kirishima’s gaze while the latter drowns in his own thoughts. “Kirishima.” “What?” Kirishima shrugs the blond’s hand off his shoulder. “It’s Kirishima. Kirishima Eijirou. If we’re going to work together stop calling me dumb names.” The blond rolls his eyes. “Dumb name. I’ll stick with ‘Scales,’” he comments as he gently wraps Kirishima’s arm around his neck and snakes his other arm around the dragon’s waist to give him some foundational support. Kirishima huffs in response to his statement but is otherwise grateful for the help. “Bakugou. I would say it’s a pleasure but it’s been a real shitshow.” Kirishima laughs for the first time since nightfall. “That’s putting it nicely.” Bakugou spares him a smirk. “So you good to go? We’ve got to basically fly across this field if we don’t want any fuckin’ faeries messing with us tonight.” “You live in a faerie field? Do you have a death wish?” “They can’t fuck with you unless you give them your name,” Bakugou turns his head and gives his companion a look of muted irritation. “Like you just did. Now we have to hurry up just in case one of them fuckin’ heard you. Damned moron.” Kirishima sputters. “Bu— Bu— Okay, I didn’t know, you could’ve said something or cut me off! You’re not the nicest guy, it wouldn’t have been to hard to do.” Kirishima gives a half-hearted glare in the blond’s direction. “And you gave your name too! So what about that?” “That’s not my given name.” Kirishima immediately looks slighted and Bakugou laughs. “Calm yourself. Nothing’ll happen. We just have to hurry up, which is why I asked if you’re good to go.” “I’m not, but I wanna get out of here as soon as dragonly possible. So let’s make it happen. Ribs and bruised insides be damned.” “That’s the spirit, Scales. That’s the type of shit I was always hearing about from Deku.” Kirishima looks at Bakugou. “He talked about me that much?” “All the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ annoying. But I’ve heard some wild shit about you, Scales. We’ve gotta sit down and compare notes after all this shit is over. You’re my kinda guy. Real rough an’ fuckin’ tough. Don’t know why you’re palling around with Deku’s nerd ass.” Kirishima’s face heats up under the overwhelming praise. “He’s a good person,” he manages to answer through embarrassment and... pleasure? “Yeah,” Bakugou agrees, completely oblivious to Kirishima’s malfunction. “Yeah, he is. That’s why we’re gonna rescue him. So let’s go.” Quickly, the two of them start moving through the field. Side by side, they navigate around faerie fields, dodge pixie stalks, and other traps set by the mischievous little folk. While they hustle, Bakugou tells Kirishima stories about Midoriya and the trouble they used to get into as children and young teens. Kirishima wonders how such a wild, obviously inhuman, creature like Bakugou grew up with Midoriya, a sweet human from the very literal middle of nowhere in the Driwox kingdom.

He supposes he has a while to figure that out though. He’s going to be spending at least a couple months with the explosive, wild creature currently helping him to safety.

He hopes that Midoriya can hold out for that long.