#forget for a moment that bakugou is literally dead at their feet

[mettywiththenotes]

This is all I saw sorry

[univvrse]

the coven (chapter 7)

minors dni

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima (only kirishima in this chapter)

cw: mentions of nsfw

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires

He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

previous parts can be found on my masterlist

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.3k words

It was a perfect moment, you slumped against Eijiro’s chest- still completely naked, his hands brushing through your hair. “Am I dreaming or, did I just loose my virginity to a vampire,” you laughed. “Can promise I am very real,” he sniggered, “we should probably get up; I don’t think either of us want to be sat here in our cum,” He began to sit up; taking you with him so you were now sat on his lap once more, his now soft cock pressed against your abdomen. Still holding you, your legs wrapped around his waist he stood up and began to trudge through the mess of garments and boxes on your floor.

“Where’s your shower princess?”, he asked, leaving your room and beginning to walk through your short hallway. “Door on the left,” you mumbled, your face shoved into his shoulder. He kicked the door open so he wouldn’t have to put you down, suspending you with only one hand, he put the lid down on your toilet and sat you down there, walking over to your shower, trying to figure out how to turn it on. “I can walk you know.” “Yeah, I know, but carrying you around is so much more fun,” he said pulling various contraptions on your shower trying to turn it on. Why was your shower so difficult to use? You grumbled at that, he finally got the water started and began to approach you again.

It felt strange to just be naked with the man- even though you had sex with him it still felt weird and vulnerable.

He scooped you up into his arms once more and placed you inside the shower on your feet, swinging the door shut- careful not to shatter the glass with his strength- before getting in himself. He pressed his back against the shower wall, leaning down to grab a washcloth that you had left on the floor early that morning.

He lathered it in body wash and began gliding the rag over your shoulders, leaning down to wash the rest of your body carefully- as if he could break you with one wrong move. Once he had finished, he reached to turn of the shower- you stopped him. Snatching the cloth out of his hands and beginning to wash his body, as thoroughly as he had washed yours.

“Sweetheart, I don’t sweat or anything you really don’t need to-” You cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, “shut up,” you said- going back to soaking his flawless stone “skin” with the washrag. “Okay then, if you insist,” he laughed- pressing his weight against the wall and tipping his head against the tile.

You finished quickly, silently cursing yourself for not taking more time to admire him. He was jacked, of course. All the vampires seemed to be, all of them seemed literally perfect, without a single noticeable flaw. You were curious if they were all as good as Eijiro in bed, it would be demeaning to you if they were, however deep down you wished they all were.

He grabbed a towel that you had left there that morning and began to dry your hair with it. He hummed a small melody while he dried you off, forgetting himself for a moment.

“I have work at 6,” you muttered “You wanna stay here while I go.” “Not like I can go anywhere baby, still a vampire remember?” You both laughed.

“You know what time it is?” You asked, not wanting to be late on your first day. “Probably like 2PM,” he stated blankly “Where’d you work?” “Some coffee shop down town,” you sighed, “I had a better job back home, but I just couldn’t stay there anymore.” “Yeah, actually we’ve all been wondering- how come you left your hometown?"

“It was kind of a dead end town, I needed something different- you know??” “You definitely found something different,” he snickered, he had finished drying you off by now, quickly drying his hair- the water on his body had mostly evaporated by now. He wrapped you in the towel, not minding his nakedness and left the bathroom, you following close behind as he went back to your bedroom to search for his abandoned clothes.

He quickly found them, tossing the clothes you had been wearing before at you as he began to get redressed. “You wanna watch a movie or something,” you asked, “My TV’s pretty crappy but I have Netflix.” “Uh- yeah sure sounds great.”

You turned around and began to lead the way back to your living room. “Guys are already pissed that I decided to fuck you without them,” he chuckled. “Oh yeah, you guys can like read each other’s others’ minds, totally forgot. Is there not like a distance where you guys can’t do that anymore?” You reached your living room, the two of you slumping down on your couch like you had been hours ago, his hand wrapped around you- resting on your waist.

“Nah, they could be in Brazil, and I’d still hear their thoughts, helps us find each other when we go hunting over a large range; also means they heard my thoughts while we were having sex but, oh well,” he sighed. You frowned, it was insanely anxiety-inducing to know even one person could hear you while you were having sex, let alone 4.

“We can choose when or when not to listen to each other’s thoughts if that’s of any solace to you, they probably tuned out the second they realised what was happening.” That was such a weight off your shoulders.

The two of you browsed Netflix to find a movie to watch, a comedy that seemed good enough to the two of you. The hours past quickly, your attention was mostly on the man beside you instead of the screen.

As the credits began to role, your pulled out your phone that was still in your pocket from earlier; you checked the time- 4:30.

“Sorry, I have to get going- I don’t drive and I have no clue how to get a bus in Japan- you don’t really learn a lot of Japanese in the American school system,” you pulled yourself out of his grasp- laying a kiss on his lips and stood, walking towards your front door, looking for your shoes. “Wish I could help- sorry, wish I had one of those rings from vampire diaries.”

You paused, he had seen vampire diaries. Did vampires watch TV? More importantly, why would vampires what TV about vampires.

Noticing your confusion, he spoke up, “Hitoshi thinks inaccurate vampire media is funny, he made us all sit through every single Twilight movie,” he winced remembering the memory. “Talking of Hitoshi, he says he took your shoes of and left them in the closet by the door, thinks your house is too unorganized even for him.” You both laughed.

“Tell him thanks from me.” You opened your closet, grabbing your old scruffy trainers, not bothering to undo the laces and instead just shoving them onto your feet. “I’m really sorry I have to leave you alone,” you called to Eijiro who was still sprawled out on the sofa, “I should be back around 9, feel free to leave when it gets dark.”

“I’m 134, a couple hours alone isn’t going to kill me,” he got up, grabbing your house key off the hook for you where Hitoshi had clearly left it when dropping you home and passed it to you. “Thanks, I’ll see you around 9 then yeah?” “Sounds great, I’ll run you back to mine tonight yeah? Still have to say sorry to Katsuki.” He pressed one last kiss on your lips before you left your house.

[salemwritesxx]

lycoris radiata

↳ pro-hero bakugou x pro-hero reader

summary: The myth around red spider lilies, lycoris radiata, is that, when you see someone you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path. Thus, when Y/n and Katsuki depart on the morning of their 6th wedding anniversary to walk to their respective agencies and spider lilies bloom along the path Bakugou is walking on, Y/n gets an uneasy feeling, unaware that the legend surrounding these flowers may have a germ of truth to them after all.

w.count: 2k

content warning: angst, major character death, which leads to reader committing suicide, afterlife happy ending

“Okay, hey-“, you grinned and pulled him back one last time to peck his lips, “-don’t forget our rendezvous tonight, yeah?”, to which Bakugou only rolled his eyes – in a playful way though as he immediately pressed a soft kiss onto your mouth once more, not caring that you two stood in the middle of the streets.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”, and with that, you finally let your husband go, though as he walked away from you, you couldn’t help but witness red spider lilies blooming along the pathway, hence you yelled after him, “Babe? Be careful, okay?”

“Ha?”, when he turned around and you pointed to the flowers, Katsuki only laughed and gestured a ‘whatever’ and saying a “Don’t be so superstitious, Y/n. It’s just a myth!”

Even though you both chuckled as he turned around and walked away for real this time, you still felt a slight uneasy feeling in your stomach, though you simply thought it was because you were excited to celebrate your 6th wedding anniversary with your husband.

--

“KATSUKI!”

You screamed as if you were the one being impaled, your knees were shaking, feeling like the ground was opening up underneath your feet and you fell into a dark, black hole any second.

Coughing up blood, he was hanging on the villain’s arm which was weirdly transformed to look like a lance – Bakugou hadn’t seen it coming, if he would have, he…

“Pathetic.”, the villain almost spit into his face before dropping him onto the pavement like some sort of trash, only to jump back immediately when other heroes already attacked him again.

You were rushing to your husband’s side who was coughing up more and more blood while squirming in pain, his “Y- Y/- Y/n…” being interrupted by his coughs, though you were already dropping to your knees to hold him.

“It’s okay, Baby, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay! Don’t worry, everything will be okay!”, you cried and sobbed, tears already streaming down your face while pressing him against your side and one hand against his wound where the villain impaled him.

Bakugou knew though. It’s why he was clawing at your hand so much, both of them soaked with his blood that just wouldn’t stop – he knew he wasn’t going to be okay. As he almost couldn’t speak anymore, because his lungs filled with more and more blood, he still grasped your hands as tightly as he could, smearing his own blood all over your arm in an attempt to stay.

“Y/n-“, gasping for breath, he was almost completely over the bridge as his tight grip slowly softened.

“I love you, Baby. I love you so much! Katsuki please, don’t go!”, not being able to suppress your desperate sobs, you barely choked out a “Please.” again as his grip loosened more and more around your own hand.

“I … love… y..o…u…”, were his last words, a single tear trickling down his cheek as his ruby eyes lost that sparkle you fell in love with the very first time you looked into them.  

“Katsu… No….Kat… Nononono please! PLEASE!”, literally begging him to not go, you hugged his bloody, heavy body so close against your chest while you cried, not caring about the explosions from further back into the streets as other heroes still fought against the villains, while rescue heroes only gradually managed to get through the wrecked buildings.

You shouldn’t even be here. Bakugou and you had been in two different agencies, it only should have been a calm day at your respective work places, wanting to be done quickly so you could enjoy your wedding anniversary tonight, but then, all available heroes were called up when the villain went on a rampage.

How…? How did it turn out like that? A harmless villain turned out to be so strong? How… could have anyone guess that? How could have anyone seen that coming?

So, it was true. Walking along a path where red spider lilies bloomed meant you wouldn’t see each other again…

Rescue heroes tried to calm you down and get you to let go of Katsuki’s lifeless body, but you just yelled at them, your voice high-pitched and so full of pain, and cried and held him tighter, not caring that you were full of his blood as you still couldn’t process that this wasn’t a dream, but it was reality… Harsh reality.

Your husband was dead.

And with that, your soul and heart shattered into million little pieces, unable to be whole ever again.

-------6 weeks later--------

You sat in front of Katsuki’s grave.

It was a cold spring night, though to be honest, you hadn’t been warm in the last weeks ever since that accident – the coldness you felt was never going to leave ever again.

Your fingers were softly playing your guitar. Making music had always brought peace to your husband’s mind, whenever he felt angry, frustrated, anxious or any other negative feeling, he would flop beside you and make you play the guitar for him. It calmed him and sometimes, you would both sing crookedly to get him back into a better mood – very fond memories indeed.

Tears were blurring your vision, even though you shouldn’t have been able to cry anymore with how many tears you had shed in the last weeks, but it still felt surreal. Knowing he was never going to come back again – never.

Slowly, your fingers stopped as you stared onto his gravestone. There were red spider lilies planted around – how ironic. Though they weren’t blooming as it was now spring.

Was is really just superstition? Or should you have been warned that day? That uneasy feeling you had felt - it wasn’t excitement, it was a sense of foreboding, and you had ignored it…

Putting your guitar, that had stickers with his hero name and your own, as well as stupid little things like a dick doodle on it, to the side, you sighed and rubbed your red, swollen eyes. You did have this guitar since your middle school days after all. And you remembered when all these things happened oh so vividly. Still hearing the giggle and laughter of your, back then in high school, boyfriend, while you yelled at him for being an idiot. Being angry over a dick doodle seemed so petty now.

Taking your permanent marker, you opened the cap with your teeth, before leaning in and doodling a broken heart onto the surface with the date of your husband’s dying day on it. Spitting out the lid of the marker, you put the pen onto your guitar, before staring back at Bakugou’s grave.

“Please tell me.. Who should be my soulmate now? Who will hold my hand while I drive? Who will hold me when I can’t sleep at night? There is nobody like you out there, Baby…. so please tell me…”, you were crying again as you sobbed and rubbed over your face, “Tell me, who could possibly take your place? My first and last love. I won’t be able to do anything without you…”

Your heart was hurting so much, you couldn’t take it. You knew he was irreplaceable, there was no one out there that could ever give you what he gave you all those past years.

Bakugou was sitting beside you, though you didn’t know – of course you didn’t, was he a mere spirit now, never leaving your side as his translucent hand touched your own.

“Please, you need to go on. Don’t do it…”, tears were in the corner of his eyes, wishing he could talk to you, wishing you could hear his desperate attempts to keep you from committing suicide. Katsuki loved you, he wanted to be with you, but he couldn’t be selfish anymore – you couldn’t throw everything away just because of him.

Though, as he was a mere ghost sitting beside you, he couldn’t do anything but watch.

With a shaking hand you then reached for the gun you had purchased today on the black market – to think, at last, you were doing illegal stuff even though you were a hero – before coming here and sitting in front of his grave for hours. You couldn’t possibly be alive without him beside you. It just hurt too much. You didn’t care about anything, you had no one besides him. Katsuki was your everything and all you wanted to do was finally meet him again.

Sobbing quietly, you then held the end of the gun against your temple, your e/c still staring at his gravestone, before you whispered one last time, “I want to meet you again. Please. I miss you so much.”

“I promise, I’ll be there.”, Katsuki whispered.

For the first time in weeks, there was warmth surrounding your heart and with a smile you barely mumbled “I know you’re waiting for me.”

And then, a loud bang echoed through the silent night and the cemetery, cherry blossom petals, that were in full bloom now, swaying in the wind and slowly falling down and onto your lifeless body.

-

“Y/n…Y/n…”, the familiar voice made you gradually open your eyes – above you, it was an ocean of pink and white cherry blossoms. But then, as you looked further back, you saw directly into Katsuki’s face, his smile making you feel so warm and fuzzy instantly. It was in that moment you realized your head was resting in his lap.

“Katsu…”

“You should have lived a long, happy life…”, his voice was so soothing and calm as he combed through your hair, though you just shook your head, tears already welling up in your eyes.

“I was already dead inside the moment you were gone.”, and then, you finally sat back up to connect your lips, Bakugou immediately slinging his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer as you both fell back into a pile of cherry blossoms.

“I love you. I love you so much. And now we’re together again.”, you whispered against his lips, lacing your fingers together and Katsuki squeezing your hand tightly, the sparkle in his ruby eyes back as tears shimmered in them as well.

“And we will never be apart again.”, he barely mumbled back, before you hugged each other tightly as your lips melted together tenderly.

--

Katsuki and you were sitting on the gravestone together, it was the day your lifeless body joined Katsuki’s in the shared grave. Watching your family and Katsuki’s once more crying so much, it really did break your heart.

“I wish they wouldn’t have to go through that again.”, he said and sighed, though also squeezing your hand tightly.

“Mh… But it was inevitable… I know they know that, too…”, since you and Mitsuki were quite close, she, of course, knew how badly Katsuki’s death affected you, even though she tried to help, the moment you were alone, you knew you couldn’t take the loss of someone so precious to you.

“Y/n… I know your pain was immense… I just hope you are both happy now wherever you are…”, Mitsuki quietly cried as she stood in front of the grave with your coffin in it, joining Katsuki’s, Masaru holding her close by his side, both of them a red spider lily in their hands that weren’t blooming.

Looking at each other for a moment, you both stood up from the gravestone and walked towards his parents, softly touching the flower, making them bloom in their hands.

“Let’s go. We are free now. Let’s see the world - together.”, Bakugou smiled and you chuckled and nodded, “Yeah.”, only to pull him closer and softly kiss him and whisper, “Together forever.”, which earned you Katsuki’s soft giggle and him pulling you closer to connect your lips once more.

Mitsuki and Masaru were both completely astonished when the red spider lilies in their hands started blooming, as if it was your answer to their question if you were both happy now, making Katsuki’s Mom smile and cry a little harder.

Though, once she looked ahead, she thought it was probably because she was sleep-deprived and in so much emotional pain, but… she saw you and Katsuki holding onto and smiling at each other. His mind must be playing tricks on her and yet, it was bittersweet to witness you two like that…

“They are happy…”, she wiped away her tears and with a smile on her lips, Mitsuki threw the blooming spider lilies into the grave eventually, knowing that her son and son-in-law were now happily dancing in the cherry blossom trees.

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: ya boy literally chickened out the last minute and made it a somewhat happy ending instead of leaving it sad… idk i kind of just want them to find their happiness again in their afterlives 💌 my first idea was to make Y/n sing his heart out on like a roof and then jump, then I wanted him to sing his heart out in front of katsu’s grave and in the end, we just have some soft guitar play and a gun… but while I listen to the song I had playing on repeat while writing this, I still imagine Y/n singing loudly for his Baby and grieving terribly 💔

[katsukikitten]

Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."

[belliesandburps]

Here's a weird ask: how does the cast off MHA and TW react to being in first place in Mario Kart only to get blasted with a blue shell?

I see @twistedtummies2 and I share some anons. :P

Twisted Wonderland

Ace: That dumbass would have the worst luck imaginable. He'd get nailed by the blue shell right when he's doing one of those loops, so he'd go crashing down and have to get scooped up by that passive aggressive cloud-flying dickhead whose name I never knew or cared to know. He'd lose a few places in the race, and before he can eve get started, someone would use the lightning to shrink everybody...aaaaand someone else would blast him off the cliff again because they had the Bullet Bill. By the time he can race again, he's in dead last and also a full lap behind. "...Wha...how...WHEN...?!?! O___o; " would be the only his only befuddled response.

Deuce: He'd snap and get mad at what a cheap shot that was, and how he was so close to victory. Then, he'd apologize, go back to playing and acting like he's not super annoyed that he got screwed so badly.

Cater: He's far too busy taking selfies of him and his pals playing video games to actually...PLAY video games.

Trey: He will be in shock for a moment, but when the person who blasted him smugs at him, he'll retaliate by refusing to bake them any pastries for a week. They won the battle. But Trey just won the war...aaaaand broke their spirit.

Che'Nya: Heeee's too busy driving backwards and smiling to himself to ever get blasted by the blue shell. He tilts his head with confusion at the cloud turtle for constantly telling him to go the other way and mutters, "But I like this way! :3 " and keep on playing incorrectly.

Riddle: That controller is going through the TV.

Leona: He'd say his famous catchphrase. "Tch, pain in my ass..." then he'd lazily toss the controller, get up and leave. I imagine Leona isn't actually THAT fond of video games despite being young. I think he only really likes strategic video games that make him feel smart. And anything that has complete random chance to negate skill like that goddamn blue shell just turns him off.

Ruggie: He'd whine and pout. "Awww, whaaaaaaat?! D8> No fair!!" Then he'd sulk for a while, grumble in annoyance, and keep playing, trying veeeeery hard to inch his way back to the top.

Jack: He'd show a flicker of anger, would pretend that it's just some stupid game, then turn away, grumbling about what a crappy, cheap trick that was and that no real wolf would ever need to use...in fact, I'm pretty sure Jack's the type who never uses items because he doesn't think he needs them.

Azul: He will forget all about winning and focus the entire duration of the game to ensuring whoever got him with the blue shell is dead last. He will not rest until he crushes their dreams...

Jade: He'd just nod passively, resume playing like it's no big deal, then he'd wait to hear the smug "Haaaaa!" from the culprit he's playing with, and make a note to exact revenge slowly and embarrassingly once the game is finished.

Floyd: He will immediately turn to whoever blasted him, have pinprick-sized pupils, aaaaaand the other player will immediately restart the race, and Floyd will beam happily at being able to play more and giggle about how his opponent is really bad this time.

Kalim: He's never been hit by the blue shell. He's too busy getting hit by green shells. And red shells. His OWN red shells...which...isn't supposed to be possible...but he found a way...

Jamil: He'd use his magic to immediately force whoever blasted him to keep driving off a cliff again and again and occasionally act as a roadblock for other racers. Why get mad when you can get "cheat-y?" :P

Vil: He'd just huff dismissively and say that this is why he doesn't stream video games like other online personalities. Too uncouth and mindless like that blue shell and whoever lobbed it.

Rook: He'd be too busy focusing on wiping out other players to actually race. He's the sort who would literally drive backwards just so he can kamikaze with all his green shells at any incoming player he decided is his prey.

Epel: He'll sneer angrily, catch himself, and say it's just a stupid game, and keep playing like it's no big deal...then occasionally glare daggers at whoever blasted him when they weren't looking, and contemplate stealing some of Vil's poisons for later use.

Idia: Idia's such a ""pro gamer"" that he knows the shortcuts in every single track. You can hit him with TWO blue shells, he'll still be ahead by half a lap and have time to spare. He'll just grin that rare cocky fang-filled grin and say, "Ohhhhh nooooo, blue shells, I hope I don't lose my entire lap lead... >:D " Then he'll giggle maniacally...aaaaaand immediately whimper at realizing he just giggled in public, then largely keep to himself for the rest of the race.

Ortho: He'll pout and angrily whine that blue shells are cheap...until he realizes how much better the items are when you're in last place...then stay in last place when he realizes how fun the golden mushrooms and lightning bolts are.

Malleus: ...He's never been first place in any video game he's ever played. He's not very good at any video games, but the fact that he's been invited to play at all already has him in a good mood. Also, whenever he plays in a castle level, he's too busy trying to admire the decor to actually race.

Lilia: He's never been hit by the blue shell because he's never allowed himself to be that far ahead. He intentionally eases up whenever he has a major lead so it's neck-n-neck between himself and second place. And once a blue shell has been launched, he'll slam the brakes so second place takes the lead...aaaaaand promptly takes the shell, so he can carry on freely to victory. :P

Sebek: He'll never play unless Malleus is playing, at which point, his only priority is supporting his young master, who is...not gonna be in first place. Instead, he'll stay by Malleus' side the whole time, and be horrified when he accidentally blasts Malleus off the road when he gets green shells and stays too close to his master.

Silver: He fell asleep two laps ago.

My Hero Academia

Midoriya: He'll grit his teeth and just try harder to claw his way back to victory. Can't keep a cinnamon bun down after all.

Bakugou: One angry shout later, and the entire room will explode...

Todoroki: He'll blink with surprise, look around in deadpanned confusion and simply ask, "...Did I win? : | "/

Kirishima: He'll whine and frown, muttering, "Awwwww, blue shell?! That's not manly at all... >:( " Then huff but nonetheless keep on playing through. Also, he'll be screwed if he ever gets the blue shell because he actively refuses to ever use it because he doesn't think it's fair.

Iida: Blue shell him once and he's effectively lost the game. He will immediately jump to his feet, stomp over to whoever blasted him, chops his hands in the air like a robot and proceed to go on a massive tirade about how true heroes should never rely on such unfair trickery...until someone points out that anything goes in Mario Kart, and if it you were a skilled enough player, you could overcome such an unfair disadvantage. At which point, Iida will freeze, hunch over and mull over to himself for a solid ten minutes about what an excellent tool the blue shell is to actively push players to be better, to overcome the odds. Then he'll immediately bow repeatedly and apologize for blowing up, praising the blue shell as the ultimate teaching moment in a video game...not realizing no one is even playing anymore...

Uraraka: She'd go wide-eyed, turn to whoever blasted her, pout and shout, "You did that on purpose, you traitor...! >:{ " Then, she'd try and latch a ride onto the cloud turtle to see if her character has zero gravity powers as well. :P

Momo: She'd never get hit with the blue shell because she's learning how to drive, and is trying to be responsible behind the wheel...meaning she's driving veeeeery slow and avoiding all the collisions everyone else is facing. So even if she's dead last, she'll say, "Well, I may be last, but I'm also unscathed. So I do believe that makes me the REAL winner in this silly game."

Kaminari: "Awwwwww, wwwwwhaaaaaaaaaat....?! <8'{ " He'd just turn to whoever blasted him with this adorably pathetic look of absolute betrayal on his face.

Mina: She'll complain about what a cheap shot that was, then get over it in a second, grinning as she tries to get payback with red shells and banana peels.

Tsu: She'd stare blankly, ribbit, and resume playing, expression unchanged while she deadpan says, "...You suck. : | " while continuing onward.

Tokoyami: He'd mumble that this never would've happened if any of the players knew how to fly, then remark that whoever blasted him must have been pretty desperate if they couldn't best him otherwise.

Ayoma: Heeeee's far too busy admiring himself in the slightest reflection he can see on the screen to actually play the game...

Mirio: "Awwwwwww, looks like I lost, guys! :D " Would literally be his response and his expression...without realizing the game isn't even over yet.

Tamaki: He'd sigh a breath of relief, saying it's so much better not having to be first because now, that's a load of pressure off of his mind...then complain that he's hungry and ask if he can go home yet. :P

Mineta: ...He was too busy perving out over Daisy to actually play, and then Tsu wrapped him up in her tongue and flung him out a window.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Times Two

Your husband is cloned by a quirk and you just so happen to love that. So what do you do? The only thing that makes sense, of course. 

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sex (anal and vaginal), DP, foreplay, blowjob, throat fucking, vulgar phrases and words Words:   4681 Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki (x2) x Fem! Reader

a/n: I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing to tell the difference between clone and real Bakugou. I have it set up like Bakugou = Real. Katsuki = Clone. The reader specifies it as well to try and clear some stuff up. But yeah, this is the naughtiest thing I’ve written in a while and I took some risks, hopefully it works out and y’all enjoy it! Don’t forget to read past the “Read More”! 

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Edit: I forgot to add the anon that requested and inspired this lovely idea, I’m sorry! Thank you so much for sending this in! (⋟﹏⋞)

Being married to the explosive Bakugou Katsuki, there is very little that surprises you. That man, as hot headed and rough around the edges as he could be, was always surprising you in one way or another in the forms of sentimental gestures and words that no other person alive was ever meant to hear. Along with being married to him, you were more involved in the life of pro heros than you ever really expected to be, as in his late twenties, he was very quickly becoming a prominent name and popular icon. A new quirk or odd behavior was always expressed to you by him when he arrived home, as he always had something new to rant about. But this… this was not something that you were familiar with. The fact that you were staring at two sets of glaring crimson eyes made you almost feel faint, tempted to shut the door and reopen it just to make sure you weren't hallucinating. 

“Katsuki…” You stared up at the one you assumed to be the original, as he was dressed in the clothes he had left in that morning, while the other was in some outfit you had never seen before. “Why… What- I mean… There are two of you.” You gestured from one to the other and back again with an accusatory pointed finger, gaining an annoyed and almost simultaneous click of the tongue from both blondes before you. 

“No shit.” The original barked in an annoyed huff, placing a rough hand on your arm to urge you out of the way so they could enter. You followed direction, watching them shuffle in through the door before shutting and locking it into place. 

“How are there two of you? Why are there two of you? Which is the real one?” 

“I am!” With a point to his own face, Bakugou glowered down at you, the familiar snarl and wedding ring on his finger calming your initial fears. The other Bakugou, who stood awkwardly off to the side, wasn’t wearing a ring and he also gave off a different… energy to the original. It was obvious that he was confused and out of place, though he glanced around at both the environment and at you with a sense of familiarity. Before you could really even say anything else, your husband snatched you by the arm and dragged you off to a different room, making you stumble over your feet for a second before catching your footing. 

“No need to drag me around Katsuki—” 

Bakugou brought a finger to his lips, hushing you with an urgency that spiked a bit of annoyance in you. All you knew at this point was that he had better start explaining himself quickly before you got frustrated, and the look on your face must have told him that as he began to spill his guts to you. 

“Sorry. Look, while I was out at a call, a villain touched me and used their quirk on me to try and catch me off guard. It didn’t work, but it did make him. He is literally me, down to memories and feelings. We have to get rid of him!” 

A frown crossed your lips as you glanced out of the doorway, seeing the clone wander about while looking at pictures along the wall. “He’s… not having like a crisis or something? I’m surprised he’s not upset.” 

Bakugou shook his head, letting his hands fall down your arms to tenderly hold your hands. “After the villain was caught, she explained her quirk… They may be exactly like me, but they won’t ever realize they’re going to fuck off when they fall asleep. Fuck off as in… turn into a doll. And even though he has all my memories and shit he’s… very compliant.” 

“Hm… When he falls asleep he’s gonna turn into a doll? Why don’t we just let him hang around until night time, and he’ll go to sleep. I don’t want you to attack him and knock him out or anything… That’s so mean.” You squeezed his fingers as you tried to have him understand your point of view. “If he’s literally you, then he probably feels really comfortable here. What a shame for his final moments of existence to be fear or pain.” 

Bakugou glowered down at you, obviously annoyed with your empathy. “So what, you want to invite him to have dinner and watch TV with us and share our bed?” 

“It’s technically his bed, too. He’s you.” You gave a very nonchalant shrug, ignoring the frustrated furrow of your lovers brow. “I don’t want you to hurt him. We should make his only day alive something enjoyable. Let’s go talk to him.” 

“Babe—” Bakugou sighed as you walked away from him, towards the clone that instantly peered down at you curiously. He seemed genuinely happy at the smile on your face, and though you could tell he wanted to, he was reluctant to touch you. Fiddling with your nails as you came to stand in front of him, you gave a small cough to clear your throat, glancing back at the real Bakugou as he glared at you from his spot learning against the doorframe. 

“So, uhm…” You began, turning your attention to the Bakugou in front of you. “Things can get a little confusing I think, so… How about I call you Katsuki, and him Bakugou.” As you addressed them, you gestured to them, feeling your cheeks flush a bit at how ridiculous you sounded. “I’m used to calling him Katsuki, but it’ll be okay for now. I’ll try not to get you mixed up. Deal?” You glanced back again at Bakugou who merely shrugged in an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ manner, while Katsuki in front of you gave a calm nod. 

“Sure, [Name]. I, oh fuck, sorry—” Having unconsiciously placed his hand on your arm, Katsuki quickly pulled it away as you gave a small flinch in surprise. With this, you saw a flash of confusion and defeat across his face, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to do that. Well, of course he hadn’t. To him, you were his lover, his wife and you loved each other fiercely. Physical touch was important between you and Bakugou, and so you knew that it was just as important to Katsuki. Still, you felt conflicted yourself. You could feel the tension from behind you, fuming off of your husband like it was a tangible object. A clone of himself or not, you knew that he wasn’t going to just let another man touch you.

Deciding to change the subject, you motioned towards the bedroom with a small nod of your head, prompting Katsuki to follow you. “Come on. How about you both get comfortable and we can, uhm… Make dinner, I guess.” 

Bakugou pushed himself up off the doorframe, entering the room before either of you. “I get my tank and shorts, got it?!” 

Katsuki scoffed, reaching behind him to pull his shirt up and over his head. “Whatever, I don’t give a fuck, I’m not going to fight with myself over clothes.” 

“Hey, hey, chill. Please.” You placed a hand on Bakugou’s arm to calm him, though by the click of his tongue you got in response, it didn’t work. “You have plenty of clothes to share. Just pick an outfit.” At this point, you already felt like you were babysitting, taking a step back as the two grown men bickered over what comfortable clothes the other wanted. Though, their huffing and puffing wasn’t really what was on your mind. Looking at them, both shirtless now, you felt a heat spread through your cheeks and down to your toes. You had two versions of your husband in your house, both of them who knew who you were and loved you equally. One was definitely in a better mood than the other, but that only made it better. 

You couldn’t stop the thoughts and visions flashing through your mind of both men pleasuring you from all sides, one fucking you from behind while the other made you gag on his cock. They were identical, down to the scars and minute imperfections on their skin. You couldn’t resist the sinful thoughts, especially as they continued stripping and changing. The instant Katsuki’s gaze landed on you, catching you staring, you took in a breath and shuffled away, mumbling something about having to go to the restroom. Shutting the door a bit too loudly, you leaned against it, placing a hand on your chest as you tried to calm your heavy breathing and racing heart. 

You almost lost it there, [Name]. You gotta calm down, there’s no way the original is gonna fall for a threesome. But this is a once in a lifetime thing! To be fucked by double Katsuki’s… What a dream— 

There was a sudden rough knock on the door, startling you so badly that you almost screamed out loud. Heart now racing even worse, you took a few deep breaths, opening the door to peek out. You could instantly see that it was Bakugou, his wedding ring gleaming against the light as his hand came to rest on the door. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, babe?” 

Opening up the door just a bit more, you allowed him to stand halfway inside so you could whisper to each other. You kept yourself close to him, tenderly caressing his upper arm as you let out a trembling breath. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just… This is a lot to take in all the sudden in a… different way.” 

“Different way?” With a cocked eyebrow, he glanced over your body, noticing the timid stance and erect nipples behind the thin cloth of your t-shirt. Your flushed face and pounding heartbeat were dead giveaways as well, though instead of his usual smirk at realizing your current state, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you horny?!” 

“Shh!” You reached up and covered his mouth, standing on your tiptoes to look out and make sure you weren’t being listened to. “Don’t say it so loud.” 

“So you are.” Bakugou continued when you removed your hand, giving a small shrug. “Well let me in there, we’ll fuck real quick and get to— ah, wait!” Now, he shoved himself the rest of the way inside, shutting the door behind him. In the same moment, he pressed you up against it, forcing a gasp from your lips as his leg wedged firmly into place between yours. He liked to do this, pin you up against whatever solid surface he could and tease the hell out of you, until you were writhing and begging for him to fuck you. Though, this was a bit different, as his glare showed little signs of the typical lust you were familiar with seeing. 

“You little slut. You want to fuck both of us, don’t you?” With your hard swallow and guilty gaze, a smirk finally crossed his lips, gripping your chin to force you to look up at him. “I should've known you were going to be like that. You’re so obsessed with the way I fuck you, there’s no way you wouldn’t want it from two of me. What were you thinking, hm? A cock in your ass and your cunt?” His hand began to travel down your body, teasing you with just a hit of that rough touch you craved. “Like hell I’m going to share you with anyone, not even a version of myself.” 

“Why not, Katsuki?” Your eyes darted from his face down his his hips, able to see his erect member pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants. “It would be fun. And so sexy… imagine me, kneeling on the floor, face covered in your cum. Letting you take turns fucking my throat.” Clutching onto his shirt tightly with one hand, you let the other slip between your bodies, slowly and firmly palming his member through the fabric of his bottoms. “You’re already rock hard thinking about it.” 

“You think you could handle it?” Bakugou pressed his leg further up between yours to press against your sex, prompting you to eagerly grind your hips. “I leave you ruined just on my own. I don’t think you’d be able to take it. You’d be begging for mercy.” 

“You underestimate me, love. The only thing I’d be begging for is more.” You tugged him in closer, catching his lips in a heated kiss. In that same second, you were in his arms, pressed up against the door. Keeping yourself latched to him with your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, you sighed softly at the feeling of his member pressing into your sex, wishing despirately to feel him inside you. While one arm kept you firmly in position, the other hand was free to roam, his rough and calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh. His touch was like fire, telling you just how seriously turned on he was, too. Just maybe you could get him to agree… after letting him have a little fun on his own first. 

“Please,” you moaned breathlessly into the kiss, reaching down between your bodies to slip his manhood free from his clothes. “I need to feel you inside me. Right now.” As you moved your poor excuse for pajama shorts and underwear side, Bakugou complied, shifting your body just enough to slip himself inside you. You felt every inch of your body tingle in excitement and pleasure, your heart racing at the sound of his groan against your cheek. He may have teased you about being obsessed with the way he made love to you, but you knew that he was just as addicted. Even though he put on a tough show, you could easily make him do whatever you begged for, like he was wrapped around your little finger. A simple touch or glance could have him immediately wanting you, and now that you had him this far, you knew that you could weasel your way into adding another cock to the party. 

You didn’t have much time to contemplate exactly how you would pull that off, distracted as he began to thrust his hips, fucking you at a rough and hard pace that made the wooden door at your back sqeak and rattle with each movement. Every inch of him vanished within your depths with each stroke, fogging your mind to everything but the irresistible pleasure. You were so engrossed, in fact, that you didn’t hear footsteps approaching the door from the other side, only able to focus on Bakugou’s lips and teeth against your skin. 

Suddenly, you felt an emptiness at your back and a wash of cold air swallow you both as the door to the restroom was swung open rapidly. With a squeal from your lips and a sharp inhale from Bakugou, you began to tumble backwards at the loss of support. Though, just as soon as it had gone, it was back again, though the presence that you found your back against was more familiar and warm than the cold wooden door. You were now pressed against Katsuki’s chest, his hands gripping onto your upper arms tightly to support the weight of both of you. 

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Bakugou barked at his mirror image, glaring at Katsuki over the top of your head. “Get that smirk off your face asshole, who the fuck invited you?!” 

“[Name] did. You think I didn’t hear you two talking in there or could tell what she was thinking?” Katsuki’s hands slid under your arms, gripping and squeezing your breasts roughly. You couldn’t resist a soft gasp, the mutual feeling of Bakugou inside you and now Katsuki’s hands on you making your head swim. “I saw her staring at us. Just like you, I know exactly what she wanted. And you weren’t exactly subtle, fucking against the door like that. It’s like you wanted me to notice.” 

Trembling, you clutched onto Bakugou’s shoulders tightly, lightly rocking your hips to move him within you. “You two stop fighting and just fuck me already!” 

Bakugou complied without a moment's hesitation, using Katsuki’s leverage to keep you stable. Your voice squeaked out in pleasure as you laid your head back, catching Katsuki’s gaze. The lust in his crimson glare was so clear, feeling a heat rush to your face as he smirked against your cheek, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “That’s it, babe,” He hissed in your ear, making your heart flutter violently. His other hand left your breast and vanished elsewhere for a moment, and you could only hope that he was preparing himself for what you wanted most. “You’re such a naughty little bitch. Tell me what you want.” 

As Katsuki’s lips came to hover near yours, you could feel it, the hard presence of his cock against your ass as it bounced with Bakugou’s thrusts. The fire inside you began to swell, unable to tear your eyes away from your lovers clone and his hypnotizing crimson glare. “I-I want you both! I want your cock in my ass— ah!” Your voice squeaked as Bakugou increased his speed and roughness, pulling your attention to him.

“Beg harder, babygirl. Beg like the cock hungry slut you are!” 

You knew exactly how he wanted you to talk, how filthy he wanted you to be, and it wasn’t something you were going to resist. “P-please, fuck me in my cunt and my ass! Fill me up and use me!” 

Again, your pathetic excuse for clothing was moved aside, with Bakugou pausing just long enough to let Katsuki sink his length into your ass. You and Bakugou were no strangers to anal sex, so it wasn’t as if that was what shocked you. No, it was the feeling being completely full, not a single inch of you untouched. There was new pleasures you had never felt before, the heat inside you almost unbearable, and yet, you loved it. Pressed between these two men, who were alike in every sense of the word, cocooned you in warmth, bringing an odd sense of sleepiness to your mind. That is, until they began to move, very quickly finding a rhythm. They didn’t alternate like you expected. Instead, they matched each others pace, making you melt into puddy in their hands. 

Trapped in their arms, you couldn’t move, only able to anchor yourself to something with your hands, which clutched onto Bakugou’s shirt and shoulders. Just from the look on his face, you could tell that it felt different for him as well, though in what way you couldn’t really imagine. All you cared about was the fact that he was enjoying it, and so was Katsuki from the groans and soft curses you heard near your ear. Within no time, you could feel it, the pleasure building into a ball in your core, until it exploded in a rush of moans, trembling and uncontrollable jerks of your body. 

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it,” Katsuki purred in your ear, both men having to stop from the pressure of your contracting walls. “You’re such a good girl.” Through your panting and soft gasps, Katsuki turned your head with a push of his thumb, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth instantly, forcing you into that submission that you loved and leaving you breathless. 

“She’s gotten off too easy,” Bakugou huffed, removing himself from inside you and leaving you aching for his return. “Put her ass on the bed.” 

Complying, Katsuki released your lips and removed himself from you as well, taking on the full weight of your body to walk you over to the bed. Dropping you onto the mattress, you bounced with the impact, gazing up at both men expectantly. Smirk on his lips, Bakugou removed his shirt, coming to stand at the side of the bed. Without questioning or waiting for instruction, you scooted your body closer, instantly taking his hard and throbbing cock into your mouth as you rolled over onto your stomach. Propping yourself up on your arms, you lovingly tended to his member, running your tongue along the underside and stroking him with that firm grip you knew he loved. With a pleasured sigh, Bakugou ran his fingers through your hair, stopping at the base of your head to apply pressure to keep you from going anywhere. 

Taking a curious glance up at his face, you could instantly tell why, his gaze following Katsuki as he climbed onto the bed behind you. Eager hands gripped your ass, squeezing and spreading you open, even though you still had your shorts and underwear on. “What a filthy little slut you are, drenched through your clothes like that.” A hard smack to your ass followed his words, making you squeak and unconsciously take Bakugou’s cock deeper into your mouth. After another rough slap, your clothes were pulled down, leaving you exposed to him. The chill of the room was short lived as he slipped his cock between your legs, urging you to squeeze them together before he began thrusting his hips. The way his cock stroked against your clit sent tingles across your skin, your moans muffled by the dick in your mouth. The more pleasure you received, the more you gave, turning Bakugou into his own panting and grunting mess. 

Eventually, with a tight grip of your hair, you knew what was about to happen. Removing your hands from him, you kept your mouth and head loose for him, allowing him to thrust his hips. He was going slow at first, like he usually did, soaking in the feeling of his tip pressing into the back of your throat. You could barely register the sounds coming from behind you, merely following direction as you were told to squeeze your thighs together tighter. 

Bakugou scoffed, glaring at his clone with a smug smirk on his lips. “What’s wrong, you fucker? About to cum already?” 

You gave a muffled squeal as Katsuki increase the roughness of his thrusts, feeling yourself about to peak again just from the stroking of your clit. “Whether you’re in or not, she’s going to be covered in cum by the time I’m done with her. I’ll cum as many times as I fucking feel like.” With a shuddering of your body as you came, you were given some reprieve from the cock in your mouth to breathe, fighting between coughing and moaning as you stroked Bakugou’s length in the meantime. As you were still cumming, you felt a hot release all over your legs, listening as Katsuki grunted with his own release. It coated your thighs and cunt, surprising you a bit with how much there seemed to be. With a heavy sigh, Katsuki took a moment to recover, spreading his cum across your pussy with his thumb. “What a pretty sight.” 

Before you could even think of a response, Bakugou forced his cock back into your mouth, fucking your throat at his own pace and roughness. You couldn’t even react to the sudden feeling of Katsuki’s cock sinking into your pussy, fucking you from behind at an equally rough pace. It was exactly as you had imagined, a mixture of pleasure and pain that had your eyes rolling back, once again completely at their mercy. Every inch of your body felt more sensitive than it ever had before, even your nipples as they scraped against the fabric of your shirt enough to add to the pleasure. 

“You want my cum all over your face, babygirl? Or do you want to swallow it?” Bakugou didn’t give you any chance to even answer, coming to his own conclusion just from the pleading furrow of your brow and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You wanted to feel it on your skin, to have him dirty you up as his counterpart had. You wanted to feel the heat of his essence on you, to watch his face as he jacked off on your face. So, that is what you received, with Bakugou removing himself from your mouth at the last moments. He gave you just enough time to open your mouth wide, catching what little bit of his cum on your tongue that you could while your body rocked with Katsuki’s thrusts. 

Leaning his head back as he came, Bakugou’s smirk spread, watching your body for a moment before he gripped your chin, giving Katsuki a quick glance that told him to stop. The clone did so, slowly removing himself from within you before filling you back up again in slow and teasing thrusts. Using his thumb, Bakugou spread his cum across your cheek and to your lips, allowing you to lick and suck it off his fingers. 

“You like the taste of my cum, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” You answered breathlessly, staring up at him through blurry and teary vision. “I love it. I love your cum—” Your voice hitched as Katsuki removed himself from your pussy, sinking his cock instead into your ass as deep as it would go. Once done, he grabbed your arms and shifted your positions, laying down as he pulled your body back against his. Understanding, you kept your legs open and displayed, panting as you smiled up at Bakugou. 

“C’mon, love. I want you both to fuck me until you’ve had enough. I told you I could take it.” 

And so you did, for hours you were treated how you had wanted to be, subdued and ravaged until your limbs were sore and body was sticky with cum and sweat. Both men had plenty to give and were just as eager to pleasure you, giving you everything you had ever wanted out of the experience. When you finally had enough was in the shower, as Bakugou enjoyed using the strongest setting of the removable shower head on your clit while they both fucked you mercilessly. You were positive that you had never had such a powerful orgasm, even sure that your mind had gone black for a few seconds as you came, pressed between their bodies just like when you had started. 

Now cleaned and so worn out you couldn’t quite move your legs, Bakugou carried you to the bed once dried off, shoving the dirtied comforter off the bed to leave mostly clean sheets for you to lay on. As he sat you down, he softly moved some hair out of your face, kissing your lips sweetly. “How was that, you stupid girl? Got your fill?” 

Smiling, you shook your head, gaining a confused cock of his eyebrow. With a wave of your arm to call Katsuki over as well, you patted both sides of the bed. “I want double cuddles.” 

“At the same time?” Both men huffed in similar tones simultaneously, making you giggle. 

“Yes! C’mon, lay with me.” 

Giving each other annoyed glances, both of them crawled into bed on either side of you. While you stayed on your back, they both squeezed in close, with Bakugou’s face resting in your hair while Katsuki pressed his lips against your cheek, showering you in soft and gentle kisses. Your heart fluttered from the sweet affection of both men, feeling for the moment that you were the luckiest woman in the world. Even if it was just for the evening, having two living version of your husband there to love you was something that you would never forget. It was sad to lose one of them, which was the particularly more affectionate one at the moment, but at least you had given him an enjoyable existence. 

“I love you.” You spoke softly, already beginning to feel sleep pulling at your mind as you reached up to softly stroke both of their cheeks. 

“I love you, too.” Both spoke in unison, filling your last waking moment for the evening with a fluffy and warm sense of love that would carry you on into your dreams.  

[kaheyama]

the samurai and his prince (1,563)

Shouto is Katsuki’s best friend. Katsuki likes going to his house to play, because he has siblings and that makes things more fun.

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto

RATING: teen and up audiences

TAGS: no quirks; happy todoroki family; childhood friends; sibling dynamicsaka the oldest three ‘bully’ shouto (and katsuki); but also each other

for todobakumonth2020: day 13 - [childhood]; wishes coming true

read on AO3 or under the cut

“You want to go to Shou-chan’s house again today?” Katsuki’s mother asks.

Katsuki nods and puts on his best pleading expression, hoping it’ll convince his mum.

She sighs.

“You’ve been there so often lately. And I just don’t have the time to drop you off today sweetie, I’m sorry bu—”

“Shouto said he’ll come pick me up!”

“Really? By himself?”

“I think Touya-nii is coming too.”

His mother seems to mull over it, and at that moment the doorbell rings.

Katsuki immediately glances at the door then looks up at his mother with puppy-dog eyes, bouncing on the balls of his feet because he really really wants to go. She stares back at him and after a few seconds, smiles.

“Alright, run along now. Tell Shou-chan’s mum I’ll pick you up later so she won’t have to drop you off.”

“Okay!” Katsuki replies, but he’s already sprinting towards their door and opening it to his best friend and his older brother.

Shouto grins upon seeing Katsuki, and Katsuki flashes his teeth back. He grabs Shouto’s hand and they start running, down the path leading into Katsuki’s home and up the road towards Shouto’s house.

Behind them, Touya calls out, “We’ll take good care of him, Mitsuki-san!” and then, “Will you two bundles of energy slow down?!”

They’re playing rescue today.

Katsuki loves going to Shouto’s house; it looks like something from the olden days with its tatami mats and shoji and the engawa wrapped around the main building. Also, Shouto has siblings! Three to be exact, which makes everything a lot more fun.

“And why is Shouto the one getting rescued?” Natsuo has been trying to convince everyone that he should be the one trapped inside the pillow fort, but he clearly doesn’t get it!

“He is obviously the prince! You guys call him ‘Shouto-bou’ sometimes! And I have to be the one who rescues him because the samurai and the prince have to end up together and siblings can’t do that!”

The oldest Todorokis share a look—Fuyumi hides her mouth behind her hand, and Touya elbows Natsuo who’s smirking. Katsuki tries not to pout. He feels like they’re laughing at him.

Then, Natsuo says, “Okay, fair point. I’ll just be… the guard… guarding the fortress then.”

Touya jumps up and unleashes a ferocious roar then gets right in front of Katsuki’s face and tells him, “If you want to get to the prince, you’ll have to go through me first. Good luck defeating a dragon, hero.”

He starts circling the pillow fort even though Shouto hasn’t entered it yet, stomping his legs and flapping his arms and trying to sound scary.

“Nee-chan,” Shouto starts, “what about you? Do you want to be a princess?”

Before Katsuki can protest that he can only save one person, Fuyumi replies, “No, Shouto. Nee-chan is going to become the weather.”

And to demonstrate what she means, she picks up a few of the bean bags and starts throwing them around, forcing her brothers to dodge her attacks. Touya gets hit when he’s rounding the corner. He rubs the spot on his arm and then glares at his sister.

“Hey, we’re on the same team here!”

Fuyumi continues tossing the bags haphazardly, although Katsuki thinks that sometimes she throws a lot harder and aims directly for Touya and Natsuo.

“I’m sorry Nii-san, but the weather controls itself! These… snowballs won’t magically miss you but hit Kacchan!”

“You literally said you were the weather!” Natsuo joins in. “Therefore you are in control of—”

Whilst his siblings are bickering, Shouto calmly climbs into the pillow fort and sits cross-legged in the centre. Katsuki doesn’t even notice, too entranced by the way the siblings are arguing.

Then, Shouto whispers ‘Katsuki!’ and Katsuki realises that this would be the perfect opportunity to rescue the prince. The enemies are distracted, this will be easy.

The moment he takes a step forward, the other three Todorokis turn to him, expressions deadly and dangerous.

Katsuki obviously doesn’t know much about what it’s like to have siblings, but he always thought that older siblings would go easy on the younger ones.

It’s clearly not the case, because on four separate occasions Katsuki managed to clasp Shouto’s hand, only to have Shouto taken away by his brothers or for Fuyumi to suddenly launch a ‘surprise attack’ which usually came in the form of her separating Katsuki from Shouto by crushing one of them with a cushion and calling it an avalanche.

Currently, Touya has Shouto hoisted over his shoulder, and is grinning down at Katsuki wickedly.

“Sorry, Samurai, but you’re going to have to try harder if you want to save him!”

He steps over Natsuo lying obediently on the ground, because last time he decided that he would just come back to life and no one was having any of that.

Katsuki chases after the dragon but miscalculates his jump and accidentally lands on the dead guard. Forgetting his act, the second-oldest Todoroki brother lets out a yelp before curling into a ball and pressing his hands into his side.

“Dragons can’t talk!” Katsuki protests, still running after Touya. Shouto reaches an arm out for him, but Katsuki is still too far away and Touya is too tall.

“He’s right! You suck at this, Nii-chan!” Fuyumi adds, now directing the brunt of her attacks at him.

“Fuyumi!” Touya exclaims, attempting to evade Katsuki as well as dodge the incoming bean bags. “Why are you always attacking me?!”

Shouto begins thrashing in his brother’s grip, kicking his legs and hitting his fists against Touya’s back, “Dragons don’t talk!”

Touya stops in disbelief to stare at his family. He looks completely offended and is about to open his mouth when Katsuki leaps up as high as he can and clasps Shouto’s hand.

He then tugs down, hard, toppling Touya’s balance and causing him to fall. Shouto is finally on the ground and free to move, and the two of them run to the very corner of the room so the siblings can’t trap them or pull another trick again.

“I’ve won!” Katsuki declares. “I defeated the guard and the dragon and the weather can’t hurt me! I rescued Prince Shouto!”

Katsuki turns to his best friend and they hug each other tight.

It’s another win for the good guys.

Natsuo, Touya, and Fuyumi bow their heads, acknowledging their loss. When it’s clear that the game is actually over and they won’t suddenly take Shouto from Katsuki, they move back to the centre of the room and sit with the older siblings.

“You fought well,” Touya begins, patting Katsuki on the back. “I, as a dragon, have no choice but to acknowledge your strength.”

Everyone rolls their eyes because it seems like Touya will never learn, but Katsuki is happy about the compliment.

“And how should the prince thank the samurai who rescued him?” Natsuo asks the room at large, sounding curious. He then turns to Shouto and Shouto looks away, staying silent.

“Shouto~” Fuyumi says in a sing-song voice. “You were just talking about it yesterday, remember?”

Touya pitches his voice higher and follows up with, “‘And then Katsuki will rescue me and I’ll—’”

His words are cut off when Shouto straight up launches himself at him.

He pushes Touya onto the ground and sits on top of him, shoving his hands over his big brother’s mouth. He’s frowning, and he looks angry, and then he stands up and pouts.

Pointing at his sister and two brothers, he exclaims, “I hate you! I hate you all!”, before walking over to Katsuki and taking his hand, pulling him up.

Katsuki lets himself be led. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on between the siblings, but still waves at the oldest Todoroki children before he’s brought out of the room.

“What are they talking about?” Katsuki asks.

Shouto doesn’t reply, too busy navigating through the hallways of the house, making turns left and right until they reach a small outdoor space Katsuki didn’t even know existed.

There’s a small tree growing in the centre, and white pebbles surrounding it on the ground.

“Shouto?” Katsuki tries again.

His best friend turns to him and then blurts all at once, “I watched a movie with Nee-chan and Touya-nii and Natsu-nii yesterday and when the knight rescued the princess she kissed him so I said next time when you save me I should do it too because it’s what happens in movies and now they’re teasing me!”

Katsuki blushes.

A kiss—

He’s seen it too.

In the movies and sometimes his mum and dad will kiss but they’re married and does that mean Shouto wants to—

“We should do it.”

“Huh?”

“K-kiss.”

It’s only right, right? Going off what Shouto says, the game hasn’t officially ended yet. The prince has to kiss the samurai, and—

Before Katsuki can even register what’s happening, Shouto’s lips have left his own.

It was incredibly fast, barely a peck, but Katsuki feels like it’s changed him.

Are they married now?

“You—” Katsuki cuts himself off when Shouto suddenly runs.

Katsuki chases after him and yells, “Where are you going!”

Shouto responds, “In the movie the princess disappears later!”

And Katsuki just pushes his legs as hard as they’ll go, because in this movie the samurai won’t lose his prince, not even for a second.

[musutofu]

【 When Darkness Falls 】

♡ pairing | Kaminari x ᶠᴱᴹ Reader ✑ word count | 6.7k ✎ genre | angst ✗ warnings | season 3 spoilers, (temporary) character death, cursing

Above you the thick canopy of leaves is parted by gnarled and spindly branches, like weathered hands parting the curtain of darkness to reveal the light glowing from above. Everything’s been leached into an almost grayscale appearance by the arrival of the moon’s pale light and it works to make the woods that had seemed so indicative of exploration in the warm light of the sun, cold and sinister. It makes you long for the constant glow on the horizon, broken only by the outcropping of buildings, that’s prevalent in the city. Here though the only thing blocking out the night sky are the ridges of mountains looming like sentinel past the the distant tree line. It’s easy to see why this has been chosen as the prime location for a test of courage. You’ve yet to encounter anyone and yet the absence of light has set you on edge. A twig snaps like a crack of lightning in the darkness and you instinctively reach out for reassurance. Momo is there to catch you before you completely lost in the abyss of paranoia.

“Had I known you were so scared of the dark, I would’ve offer to hold your hand earlier, [Name].” Her laugh is reassuring as she pulls you away from the edge of the trail where the shadows are at their deepest.

“I’m not necessarily afraid of the dark–!” Your declaration is immediately undermined by a distressed squeak as a deep groan rumbles through the trees closets to you.

“Do you think we’re getting close to the other students?” Your shoulders lift in a shaky shrug. “I wonder who’s Quirk could’ve caused that noise. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Come on, [Name], I’ll make sure no one scares you too much.” The two of you only make it a few more steps before you pause, snagging Momo’s arm like a dog tugging on its leash. Your eyes are trained curiously on the ground as it trembles underfoot. The tremors coincide with the sound of brittle snaps that burst through the still air, undercut by a heavy groan. Pieces click together in your brain like a puzzle and your head whips to face the wall of blackness you’d been regarding with such hesitance. In an instant, you forget your irrational fear. It’s erased by the most basic of instincts in your mind; survival. With little regards to her balance you shove Momo as far away from you as possible, using the momentum to throw yourself in the opposite direction. Seconds later a tree spills out of the darkness, toppling others in its descent.

“[Name]! Are you okay?” Momo shouts frantically, struggling to her feet as the aftershocks of the tree’s heavy impact die down. The hard-packed dirt path had done nothing to soften the impact and you pick a bloody piece of gravel out of your elbow before standing. The tree rises up past your head in width and it probably would’ve measured higher if not for the charred divot in its trunk. The damage stretches from one wall of darkness and back into the shadows on the other side. You strain your eyes in search of the end but can’t find the roots or crown.

“I’m fine! Are you alright?” You chance a touch to the bark, gauging whether or not you should attempt to scale it, and immediately pull your hand back as your singed by the blue embers still glowing bright in its trunk beneath the layer of charred bark.

“Momo, something’s wrong. This wasn’t part of the courage test. The only other emitter-type Quirk that has to do with fire is Todoroki and I’ve never seen him get his flames hot enough to make blue fire.” Just as you say that a shiver runs down your back, yet it’s comforting somehow. After a moment, the presence of Mandalay’s Quirk manifests in your head. It feels as though your conscience has mutated and split in two. Her words echo in your head, overlapping your own train of thought in a cluttered sort of harmony.

“Everyone! We’re being attacked by two villains!” Momo’s inhales sharply on the other side of the tree. “It’s possible that there are more! Everyone who can move, get back to camp immediately! Even if you come across an enemy, retreat and do not engage!”

“Momo, go! Follow the trail back to the camp. I’ll find my own way back.” It’s evident that you can’t just turn around and follow the path since Mandalay, Tiger, and Pixie-Bob were in the clearing the path leads to. If they’re fighting the villains it wouldn’t be wise to knowingly run in headfirst and risk distracting them, or, worse, grab the villains’ attention.

“I can’t leave you here! I won’t! I’ll think of something and help you get across.” You can already hear the cogs in her head turning as she runs through all the objects and materials she knows how to create in the hopes of finding a probable solution, but there’s just no time. Even if she can manage to think of something there’s no telling how wide this tree is. There’s a significant distance between the two of you based on her voice alone and Momo can only make so much material before she becomes little more than dead weight after overshooting the amount of lipids she can expend.

“Momo, there’s no time, just go. Help who you can, but, please, get out of here. I’ll be fine.” You pretend your voice didn’t wobble on the last word. “Don’t forget, I’m going to be a Hero, too!”

“As your Vice President, I’m ordering you to be careful. Please, stay safe, [Name].” The tightness in her voice is indicative of her guilt as she turns her back on a friend to save herself, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. As soon as you hear her footsteps running down the path you turn towards the pitch black hoard of trees that your roadblock emerged from. Your safest bet is to follow it to the stump and back. Fear thrums in your veins as you plunge into the open woods like a diver into frigid water, hand trailing just below the veins of blue that faintly light your way. The further you get from the path the harder it gets to breathe. What you’d thought was collateral damage from a Quirk emission was the flint that sparked a fire.

Blue-grey smoke reaches for you like spectral fingers, stinging your eyes and burning your lungs. You consider using your Quirk, but it would come at the risk of adding to the damage the villain caused. Because while the smoke of your flames acted as a purifier, replacing toxins in the air with pure oxygen, they were still flames and would burn the densely packed trees. As if to offer you a solution the maze of tree trunks gives way to a small clearing. Abandoning your plan of returning to the path you sprint for the opening in the trees, tripping over a nest of raised roots on your way out. Your hands take the brunt of the impact, sending a shock through your wrists, only to fall over completely as Mandalay’s voice invaded your thoughts once again. You roll onto your back, blowing a small ring of fire into the air so you can properly catch your breath.

“Everyone in Class A and Class B! In the name of Pro Hero, Eraserhead, you are granted permission to engage in combat!” The heat that had gathered during your tramp through the woods drains from your body like water down a faucet. For Aizawa-sensei to authorize everyone for combat there has to be something dire happening. You scramble to your feet in preparation for an impending fight but find only the mix of blue and purple smoke as your enemy. Just as you inhale to blow a larger cloud of flames, you notice a large shadow in your periphery. For a moment you mistake it’s almost inhuman shape as one of Pixie-Bob’s earth monsters, like the ones that attacked you upon arrival, but then it moves.

You dive behind a tree, risking a peek past the low-hanging leaves to be sure you’ve gone unnoticed. The creature makes an animalistic keening noise that’s muffled by a gag connected to the helmet that probably holding its exposed brain in place. Your heart stops in realization. It’s a Nomu. You recognize it’s exposed brain and excessive muscles from the USJ attack. Cold sweat drips down your spine as you connect the dots. These grotesque, humanoid monsters are like the League of Villains’ foot soldiers. You feel faint as you think of how many more there are and what just one of them could do when it’s roaming free. Perhaps it’s the smoke making you woozy, but you aren’t about to light a beacon to give away your position. If it took All Might more than one punch to defeat one of those things, you don’t stand a chance. It slowly lumbers away, but you stay frozen until you can no longer hear it crashing through the foliage. You breathe out a flaming sigh of relief and the cloud of fresh air helps to clear your head only for it to be bombarded by another message from Mandalay.

“We have discovered one of the villains’ targets. It is one of the students–‘Kaachan’! Kaachan should try to avoid combat and acting independently. Understood, Kaachan?”

“Bakugou.” His name falls from your lips in a whisper before you can stop it. Just the thought of him being forced to the sidelines for his own safety is laughable, but you suppose Mandalay doesn’t know that. You do, though, and you can’t help but worry for him and all your fellow students. Between the thickening smoke and purple gas it’s probably getting harder to fight without running out of breath and you’re about the only one that can offer any type of solution. Minding the direction the Nomu disappeared in, you run the other way, puffing our small bursts of fire to minimize the possibility that you accidentally set another tree on fire and add the the problem you’re trying to solve. It’s only after sprinting back into the darkness that’s momentarily lit up by your purifying fire breathing that you realize you’re running aimlessly.

There’s no way of telling which way camp is anymore, but the path went in a circle, so you plan to run and clear the air until you find it. It doesn’t take long to stumble upon it, quite literally as you almost step on a Class B student. There are three of them strewn across the ground, breathing shallowly as the smoke from the burning trees and gas from somewhere deeper in the forest contaminates their lungs. You recognize all of them, but can only vaguely recall their names. There are two boys and a girl. Two of them have collapsed in close proximity, but one of the boys has fallen on the other side of the path. You groan with exertion as you try to drag the remaining boy closer to the other two. Once they’re all in the same general area you blow a curtain of flames above them.

You take solstice in the way the air above their heads clears, but know it’ll be quickly replaced with toxic air the moment you stop. The length of pauses between your breaths shortens as you force as much air out of your lungs as possible as quickly as you can. The brunette boy is the first to return to a normal breathing pattern, his chest rising and falling like steady waves. Your chest, however, barely shifts as you breathe in. When you try to exhale a cough interrupts your stream of flames and the girl wheezes as smoke suddenly invaded her lungs again. Pushing aside your minute discomfort, you resume purifying the air, not realizing you’re retaining too much carbon monoxide from the smoke as you angle the flames away from yourself. Each burst of fire is getting incrementally smaller and your mind hazier, but you can see the girl is regaining her breath in your place, though the second boy is still breathing erratically. There isn’t much time to worry over that as your vision suddenly cuts out, like the flick of a light switch, before you could even register that it’d been tunneling. For a moment you sit in the strangely cold darkness, no longer feeling the warmth of your own flames. A sort of all consuming darkness with fingers like ice crawl up your body until you’re so numb that all you can feel is nothing.

It’s still cold when you wake and it feels like you’re encased a block of pitch black concrete. All you can see is thick darkness and your lungs heave with the effort to take in even the smallest wisps of air. You try to move in the disconcerting nothingness that encapsulates your entire being, but it’s met with heavy resistance. The frigid feeling from moments before is broken up by instances of complete numbness. You can barely feel that you have a body at all. It’s a collection of abstract shapes that seem to connect but you can’t move any of them. It’s like every cell of your body is suddenly made of lead.

All of a sudden, you feel something, weight being added to your chest. It’s warm and grounding and sends an odd buzz through your body. You try to reach out to hold onto it, but it slips away before you can grab it, leaving you alone in the darkness. After a moment, the weight returns, heavier this time and softer. Still your arms refuse to cooperate and the only thing centering you disappears once again. It must not have gone far because you suddenly hear a voice shout. It sound like they’re screaming into water. You wonder if that’s why everything is so heavy. Maybe you’ve sunk to the bottom of the ocean and the pressure is trying to crush you like an aluminum can. Idly, you wonder if they’re yelling at you to swim to them, to the surface where there’s light and air. I can’t, you what to tell them, it’s too heavy.

The buzzing weight returns to your chest, pressing against two different places. Wait, electricity and water don’t mix. The people yelling aren’t trying to save you. They’re trying to fry you alive before the pressure cracks you like an egg. Suddenly pieces of body are thrumming and you can feel it. Some of the pressure is relieved as you’re pulled towards the surface by the center of your chest. The soft weight is back and it feels more tangible, more comforting. Perhaps they are trying to save you. The buzzing returns tenfold and this time you feel the thrumming everywhere, even in your teeth. It’s mildly uncomfortable and surges through you until your back is pulled into an unintentional arch. Once it dissipates the phantom string pulling you upward is cut and you settle back against a hard surface. You aren’t cold anymore, but you are tired. There’s not even enough strength in you to grasp at what you now recognize as hands sitting heavy on your chest.

The next time you wake it’s to a monotonous beeping rather than disconcerting emptiness. There’s a collection of machines standing watch at your bedside, one connects to the clamp on your pointer finger and the other curls around your face to deliver oxygen to your nostrils. It’s obvious you’re in a hospital room, but you can’t remember why. You don’t feel particularly ill and the only sign that you were injured is the small bandage on your elbow which could’ve easily been the result of a small fall. You’re not left to wallow in confusion for long as a man in a white coat enters your room. He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too engrossed in the papers on his clipboard. It’s not until he glances at the machines you’re hooked up to that he realizes you’re awake.

“Ah, hello, Ms. [Last Name], it’s good to see you awake.” He says, pulling up a chair to sit down next to your bed.

“Awake? How long have I been asleep?” Your voice grates at your vocal cords and you attempt to swallow the dry feeling. The doctor, you’re assuming he’s a doctor, produces a water bottle seemingly from no where and hands it to you. He watches you greedily guzzle down half of it before answering your question.

“You’ve only been asleep for two and a half days and frequently opened your eyes though you weren’t exactly lucid. Do you remember anything?” A shiver shoots down your spine at the memory of the black void and is easily chased away by the thought of the weight that had steadied you, unconsciously your hands press against your chest.

“I remember being cold and everything being completely black. But I could almost hear voices and I felt things. It was like buzzing and there were hands on my chest. I couldn’t hold them, though, I was too tired to move.”

“Anything before that?”

“A forest, and fire. Villains showed up at our training camp. The trees were on fire and there was smoke everywhere. I tried to help someone, but I can’t remember if I saved them.”

“You did. All three of them, in fact. They came to visit you the first day you were admitted and your class was just here to see you. I believe some of them may still be here somewhere. I’ll tell them you’re awake if I see them, but for now I should go alert your parents. And don’t worry, you’re perfectly fine. Other than high traces of carbon monoxide in your lungs and bloodstream that’s been filtered out, you had no lasting injuries. You’ll be free to go by the end of the day.” You sip your water pensively as he says all this. The high levels of carbon monoxide must’ve been from all the smoke. A small price to pay to save three of your fellow students. As the doctor rises to leave you notice an array of presents on the bedside table and a bouquet of balloons hidden behind the tall machines. Curious, you grab a stack of cards to read. There’s one from each student you saved, one that’s from your entire class, one from Class 1-B, one from a close friend of yours, and the last one from your parents. A soft smile brightens your face as you read everyone’s names and the little anecdotes they wrote for you. You’re contemplating the few missing signatures of Jirou, Hagakure, Bakugou, Midoriya, and Yaomomo when the door to your room clicks open again. This time it’s you that doesn’t look up until the person is seated next to your bed.

“Kaminari!” You set the cards aside to reach over the bed’s guardrail to hug him, but he’s hesitant to return the affection. You pull away awkwardly, not used to the lack of affection from one of your best friends. “What’s wrong?” It’s hard to gauge his reaction with the way his head is lowered and his bangs fall across his eyes. But when he raises his head, something in your chest seizes, then shatters as he looks at you with tears rising in his eyes.

“Denki, what’s wrong?” Your voice shoots up an octave, pulled taut in distress. “What happened?”

“You died, [Name].” His voice lacks its usual carefree inflection and sends his words slamming into you like a ton of bricks.

“What?” The heart monitor skips a beat.

“During the villain attack. You suffocated from inhaling too much smoke. You were dead when we found all of you, but the other three were still breathing. I–we thought you were gone for good. But....” he trails off, looking down at his trembling hands. Unknowingly, he’s laid the tracks for your train of thought to resume and you can remember the bits and pieces that were missing. They’re hazy, like trying to look through muddy water, but it’s enough. The voices you’d heard had been those of your teachers and classmates. The hands you’d felt were Kaminari’s. It was his Electrification Quirk that had brought you back from that cold darkness. It still feels like you’re missing something, like there was more to your death than just the emptiness of the in between, but the longer you try to reach for it the more elusive it becomes. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re here now.

“Don’t cry, Kaminari, there’s no reason to. A Hero shouldn’t cry over the people he’s saved. I’m okay and it’s all thanks to you.”

“But what if we hadn’t gotten to you in time? What if I couldn’t restart your heart? It would’ve been my fault.”

“No,” you grab hold of his shaking hands and press them against your heart, “the only person at fault would’ve been me. I overexerted myself. I overused my Quirk. The only person to blame is me. It’s thanks to you that I’m even alive. My heart beats for you, Denki, don’t ever think otherwise. You’re my Hero.” You feel the heat building behind your eyes, threatening to spill over as you watch your best friend cry for you. His tears are for you, but you don’t want them. You want his smiles, his failed attempts at suave pickup lines, even that dumb expression he makes when he fries his brain. You’d prefer anything over the anguish spilling from his golden eyes. Feeling your own tears finally fall, you release the guardrail to pull him fully against you. His head rest against your chest much the same way it had when he was listening for your heartbeat before. It seems to settle him and the sobs quiet to short sniffles.

“Am I interrupting something?” The question is accompanied by the sound of crinkling cellophane and you spare a glance over Kaminari’s head to see who you’re new visitor is.

“Oh, Kyoya, hi.” Kaminari stiffens in your arms at the introduction of another person and promptly pulls away from you and dries his eyes. For a moment he still looks distressed but easily slaps a big, empty smile on his face before addressing the boy approaching your bedside.

“Not at all. I’ve never met any of [Name]’s friends from outside of U.A., it’s nice to meet you! I’m Kaminari Denki.” Kyoya offers Kaminari a short bow before dropping the bouquet of flowers he brought into your lap. You examine them for a moment before smiling.

“Thank you. Everyone seems to have gotten me marigolds. I know they’re my favorite flower, but I have so many now. Actually, you’ve never been good with flowers, Kyo. Did you buy me chrysanthemums by accident?” You jest. Kyoya’s cheeks brighten with a hint of embarrassed blush. Next to him, Kaminari looks uncomfortable.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the blonde finally decides, rising to offer his seat to Kyoya. “I’ll see you at school, [Name].”

“He seems nice.” Kyo comments once the door shuts behind him.

“He is. All of my classmates are. I’m glad–”

“I don’t think you should continue going to U.A.”

“Excuse me?” You’re less concerned by the fact that he interrupted you and more upset by the fact that he’d even suggest something so absurd.

“I said I think you should drop out of U.A.” He reiterates plainly.

“And go where? Shiketsu? Ketsubutsu? I’m pretty sure it’s too late for me to transfer anyway. The first semester is already over. Plus U.A. is the best Hero academy in the country! I can’t just throw my acceptance away.”

“But you can throw your life away?” Kyo deadpans. “You died. You were dead. All because your school can’t properly protect its students. This is the second time you’ve been involved in a Villain attack!”

“So you’re suggesting that instead of continuing to train and become a Hero I should just quit? That’s one less person to protect civilians, like yourself, from being hurt by Villains. Why would I stop? I could just as easily be killed in a Villain attack walking home from a normal school. You know my classmates Bakugou and Midoriya were involved in a serious villain attack before they even applied to U.A..”

“And now one of them is badly injured in a room down the hall and the other is missing, kidnapped by the League of Villains.” The heart monitor beeps erratically at the news. You remember Mandalay mentioning Bakugou was a target, but for him to have been captured... the thought never occurred to you.

“That’s even more of a reason to keeping fighting! So I can avenge the injuries Midoriya suffered and save Bakugou from those Villains. And I know a few real friends that would agree with me!”

“You’re all crazy to think you can take on so many Villains! You’re just kids!” Kyoya stands to tower over you, his dark expression silhouetted against the bright overhead lights. The sound of his chair toppling over does little to distract either of you.

“If we don’t protect people than who will? Are you tell me being a Hero is useless?” Your heart monitor is beating feverishly as his words work you into a near manic state. “I think you should leave, Kyoya. Don’t come see me again.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He says manically. His eyes are clouded and unfocused. “No, I won’t let you. I’ll make you regret this until the day you die.”

“Well, in your eyes it won’t be too long until then!” You mock. In a fit of anger you throw the bouquet of chrysanthemums at his retreating back. They explode against the wall in a flurry of golden petals. The color reminds you of Denki.

A lot’s changed since that day. You’ve steadily built up a wall around yourself. A fortification in preparation for whatever Kyo is planning. He looked so terrifying when he was staring down at you with unbridled rage in his eyes. Somehow he managed to instill more fear in you than any Villain you’ve encountered. There’s just something unnerving about your enemy being someone so close to you. He knows your fears, your secrets, your insecurities. It wouldn’t be hard for him to exploit your every weakness and it’s scared you into a self-inflicted sort of exile. The only thing that gets you to leave your dorm anymore is classes and your exit is always timed so you’ll have someone to walk with you. Even though you fear being alone you’re too afraid to confide in anyone.

A knock on your door makes you squeak. You’d risked a quick scroll through your SNS knowing that you’ll run into Kyoya’s vague posts about betrayal and restitution that could be a passive aggressive jab at anyone, but you can’t help but feel that they’re threats aimed at you. Thouroughly rattled, you toss your phone aside and give permission for whoever’s behind the door to enter. A tuft of blonde hair slashed with a black lightning bolt highlight is followed by the rest of Kaminari’s head as he pokes it around your door. For a moment he just looks around, probably sating the curiosity most of your class has been harboring since their impromptu best room contest. As usual, you’d been curled up in solitude and pretended to not hear when the girls first knocked on your door.

“Hey,” Kaminari ventures, refocusing on you. “Can I come in?” You pull your knees closer to your chest in preparation for an attack you know isn’t coming before nodding your consent. “Uh, nice room.” He says awkwardly, walking around the space and taking in all your personal touches. He stops in front of your memory board hung over your desk. It’s one of the one things you insisted had to be brought with you from home. You could’ve abandoned your TV and favorite reading chair for that dumb board. It had been a labor of love painstakingly choosing each picture you wanted to put on it and arranging them to look aesthetically pleasing. Funny that you haven’t looked at it since you woke in a cold sweat after feeling eyes watching you. In your panicked state you attributed the gaze to a photo of you and Kyoya standing on either side of your parents that had been taken at an amusement park on your eleventh birthday. Your eyes were red from crying after going on your first roller coaster and Kyo’s shirt has a white blotch on it from being overzealous with his ice cream cone, though you can’t see it now. After that night you folded the picture in half, pretending your mother’s missing arm was just out of the camera’s view.

“I didn’t realize we took so many pictures together.” Kaminari muses after picking out his distinct features every few pictures. You blush behind your knees.

“Yeah. You’re actually my home screen.”

“Really?” He sounds amused, but your head is buried in your thighs and you’re too embarrassed to lift it. “Hey, don’t feel bad! It’s just funny because you’re my background, too. Look!” You peek over your legs to see that he wasn’t lying. Behind all his apps is a picture of you. You can’t remember when it was taken, but it looks to be during lunch judging from the chopsticks resting against your lips and the rice stuck to your cheek.

“You jerk! Why is it an unflattering picture?”

“What do you mean. No picture of you can be unflattering! You’re too cute for that.” The emotions that have been simmering just below the surface threaten to bubble over with that one comment. Your relationship with Denki has always walked the line between platonic and romantic, but you’re too scared to make the first move and he never expresses wanting anything outside of occasional flirting, so you’ve left things as they are. Before the silence can stray from comfortable to awkward you huff at him in disbelief.

“I was nice enough to pic a half decent picture of you.” Before you can hit the home button your eyes catch on to a text from Kyoya. You hadn’t bothered to block his number seeing as he hadn’t contacted you since that day at the hospital, per your wishes, but now you wish you had as the single word “tonight” glows up at you menacingly. You toss your phone away with a shout.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Get away from me.” You snap. If Kyoya is really coming to carry out his threat you doubt he’ll hold your classmates’ health as a high priority. Kaminari sputters as you push him towards the door.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?” Instead of sounding upset he sounds worried. “You’ve been different ever since you got discharged. I thought you were okay. What changed?” You can’t take the desperate look in his eyes as he forces you to look at him. His eyes melt away the ice that’s seized your chest only for it to return tenfold as the school’s alarm system goes off in a maelstrom of sounds and flashing lights.

“He’s coming.” You cry, forcing your way past Kaminari and sprinting down to the lobby.

“[Name], stop!” Four pairs of eyes look to you as Kaminari yells your name.

“[Name], don’t worry. Maybe it’s just a bunch of reporters like last time.” Mina reasons, trying to reach for you. Hysteria mercilessly sinks it’s fangs into you and you lash out, smacking your friend’s hands away from you. Mina startles, not having expected your reaction.

“Get away from me!” Everyone is so close to you. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. They need to leave you alone.

“[Name], we have to remain calm. The pros will take care of the threat.” Iida tries to reason. You cover your ears. He’s wrong. They won’t. He’ll only stop if he has your life in his hands.

“Shut up! Get away from me!” Your control is slipping and you can feel each word that leaves your lips being accompanied by a burst of heated air. A scream erupts from your lips in the form of a plume of fire at the sound of the front doors being melted. He really is here to kill you. The only person you know with a Quirk that can melt anything is Kyoya.

“Don’t!” You scream as Todoroki attempts to close off the door with a wall of ice. A few seconds later a hole has been melted in it and Kyoya steps through with a deranged smile on his face.

“Hello, [Name].” You collapse under the weight of his eyes. They’re empty, like there’s no soul left inside. You can hear voices yelling at you to move, to fight, but you can’t. All you can do is cry for your life as he reaches a hand towards your heart. Your own hands are rendered immobile as tape loops around you and you’re dragged away from Kyoya before his hand can melt your shirt. Kyo himself seems to shimmer in your teary vision, but the sparkle is accompanied by a telltale crackle of electricity. Sero picks you up, completely ignoring the way you try to struggle out of his grip with your bound arms.

“Let me go!” You wail. “He’ll kill you all! He only wants me!”

“He’ll have to go through us first.” Kirishima insist, activating his Quirk in preparation for another attack. Kyoya is only momentarily inconvenienced by Kaminari’s small discharge, though his arm twitches sporadically as he points to you. Sero holds you closer to his chest as Momo and Mina step protectively in front of you.

“You messed with the wrong class, asshole.” Bakugou declares, shooting off a warning explosion.

“Stop it! Don’t fight him! Just let him have me!”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about, dumbass, but that’s not happening. You’re going to be a Hero, too. Fucking act like it.” Bakugou scoffs, aiming an explosion at Kyoya. He falls with a groan, the right side of his shirt thoroughly charred by the attack. Before he can regain his footing, familiar cloths bind his wrists and a glittering, pink mist enters through the melted doorway. Kyo falls to the ground face first as he succumbs to Midnight’s Quirk. Aizawa-sensei waves away the last whips of sleep-inducing gas before addressing the class.

“Where’s everybody else and why is [Name] restrained.”

“I believe everyone else is still in their room.” Momo supplies. “And [Name] kept saying this Villain was here to kill her. We didn’t want her doing anything rash.” Kaminari shoulders past Mina to stand in front of you. He unravels Sero’s tape with a distant look in his eyes before taking you from his friend’s arms to hold you himself.

“Midnight, stay with the Villain until the authorities come. Iida, take a head count of everyone. Kaminari, carry [Name] back to her room.” Everyone starts moving according to his orders. Kaminari doesn’t look at you as he carries you back upstairs to your room. Aizawa-sensei follows behind him. Once in your room, Kaminari deposits you on your bed and sits down next to you while Aizawa-sensei takes a seat in your reading chair.

“What’s going on?” He asks plainly.

“I recognize that guy. He’s a friend of hers, or was. He came to visit her when she was in the hospital. When I went to see her she was fine, but after she started isolating herself. I asked around, but no one knew why. I guess she knew he was coming for her.” Kaminari answers.

“Is that true, [Name]? Did you know he was going to try to kill you.” You’re feeling overwhelmed and close to tears. You reach out blindly in search of something to ground yourself and Kaminari finds your hand.

“He threatened me and it made me feel nervous, but deep down I didn’t really think he’d do anything. Kyo was mad at me for still wanting to become a Hero even after what happened at training camp and said he’d kill me himself before I had a chance to be killed as a Hero. I thought he said it to make me so paranoid that I’d drop out and go back to normal school. I was close to that point, actually. But then I got a text from him that said ‘tonight’ and I knew that meant he was serious. I just didn’t want anybody to get hurt because of me. One life to save dozens is worth the price. I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” By the end you’re nearly blubbering in tears, gripping Kaminari’s hand for dear life.

“I’m disappointed in you. You should’ve told someone even if it was only a suspicion. Your lives are important to us and we want to protect you until you can protect yourselves, but you have to tell us when things like this happen. You won’t be punished this time as I can see how the stress of being hospitalized and threatened can alter your thinking, but be more mindful of things like this if it ever happens again.” He doesn’t sound angry at you, more so concerned. “You’ll have to give your official statement to the police tomorrow morning, but for tonight try to get some rest. Kaminari, I’m giving you my permission to look after her.” After the door closes behind him with a dull click, Kaminari turns to look at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is thick with pain as he tries to understand why you kept something so big from him.

“How could I?”

“How couldn’t you? I’m supposed to be your protector. How can I protect you when I don’t even know you’re in danger?”

“My protector? Like my boyfriend?”

“If that’s what gets you to tell me things like this then yes.” You giggle despite yourself. “I’m serious.”

“No, I know, I’m just really nervous now.”

“Don’t be. I’m here to protect you. But you should probably get some sleep because you look like a raccoon. That guy really had you worked up didn’t he?” Kaminari asks as he goes to turn off the light. You suppress a distressed squeak at the complete darkness. Kaminari easily navigates his way back to your bed and lies down next to you, not touching but close enough to feel his warmth next to you.

“You’re scared aren’t you?” Kaminari asks.

“Yes.” You admit meekly. There’s a night light plugged in next to your bed, but you’re too embarrassed to switch it on. Next to you, Kaminari shifts his position until his head is resting against you chest with his arm slung across your waist.

“Better?” You hum happily, fatigue making your voice sound a bit drunk. “Good. I like listening to your heart beat. I want to hear it for a long time, so don’t go letting Villains plot against you anymore, okay?” You run a hand through his hair reassuringly.

“Okay, Denki.”

[dreamykrimi]

Sweater Weather: Yuletide

Hello and Merry Christmas everyone! I’m so sincerely sorry that I don’t have the full fic for this ready in time for the holiday, but I’ll have it up as soon as I can. Here is a teaser, as apology and as a pick me up in celebration of Christmas. Hopefully you guys are still with me, here! 

A little background: this fic does not directly follow Cider Sweet. There is a fic in between tentatively titled To Be Okay (subject to change, because I’m fickle that way), that will deal with the aftermath of Shouto training with Endeavor, and that one is still in progress. I’ll be posting Yuletide in it’s completion before that one comes out, but I’ll reorder the series so that To Be Okay comes first. Until then, I hope you enjoy this!

There’s a muted quality that comes with the powdered layer of snow covering the ground. Everything is muffled and awash in pristine white. Shouto watches a pair of rabbits bound through the snow drifts, barely distinguishable in their winter coats, and considers calling Izuku over to see his friends.

Izuku stands near Asui a few yards away, both bundled up tightly in the most hideous sweaters he’s ever seen with scarves pulled up over their faces. It seems that Asui is also weak to the cold, and the two of them have decided to stick close. For the past ten minutes he’s been thinking of going over and offering himself up as human heater for the two of them, but if he leaves now Yaoyorozu will frown at him in that way that's meant to look disapproving but really just looks sad.

“A little higher please, Todoroki!” she pipes from the other side of the tree.

Shouto sighs, his breath a thick fog around him as he lifts the string of lights above his head for Yaoyorozu to grab. She teeters precariously from her perch on Kirishima’s shoulders, but Kirishima steadies her with a firm grip on her knees. Snow crunches under his boots and he kicks aside a chunk of ice as he circles the tree with them.

In the courtyard outside of the dorm and directly in the line of sight of the largest window in the common area, there is now an enormous pine tree, courtesy of one of the 1 B students with a plant based quirk. Class 1 A had been tasked with decorating it by some kid called Monoma, who had insisted that his class had done the truly difficult part and so it was only fair that- Shouto’s getting a headache just thinking about it.

He wonders again why they couldn’t have left this part to Shouji and Satou, easily the tallest of their classmates, but they had already been put to the task of baking sweets for the class. And besides that, Kirishima had jumped at the opportunity.

“We’re the Christmas tree appreciation club, bro! Our time has come!” he’d said.

Shouto just wants to go and hold his boyfriend’s hand already.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word bounces around his head and his stomach flips. Even a month later and it hasn’t worn off in the slightest; it still makes his heart skip with nervous energy and affection.

He looks again to where Izuku is, now with Uraraka pulling his hat down further over his ears and rubbing up and down Asui’s arms. Uraraka must have been kicked out of the kitchen, probably for rough housing with Bakugou if the batter clinging to her hair is anything to go by. Why are his closest friends the most ridiculous people he’s ever met? he thinks, with probably too much fondness. Asui seems happier for her presence, though. Barely peeking up over her scarf, he can see the girl’s cheeks flush more than the cold would account for as her eyes crinkle sweetly.

His eyes slide over to Izuku again, his own freckled cheeks pink in the chill. Shouto feels his heart speed up a beat. They are still painfully slow at everything, but since the snow set in they’ve both become much less shy about touching. It’s still hit or miss when their friends are around to see, but Izuku’s aversion to cold weather has driven him to curling into Shouto’s left side at every opportunity. It always takes him by surprise, how powerful the urge is to wrap his boyfriend up in warmth at the first sign of cold. He thinks he's in danger of becoming a doting partner. Izuku’s hands are always cold, no matter what he was doing before Shouto warms them, and it would worry him, it does worry him, except that means that Izuku seeks him out and puts those cold hands in Shouto’s pockets.

Izuku laughs at something Asui says, but his laughter breaks off as he shivers.

He could fix that right now, if he weren’t figuratively and literally tied to this ridiculously huge tree in the courtyard. The strings of lights not in his hands loop loosely around his shoulders and even down his leg, and while he had allowed it as a way to keep them from getting tangled, he may have underestimated the dual purpose of it. Now he can’t escape.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to test the next string. Ready Kami?”

Shouto pulls a face and squints in preparation.

Kaminari laughs at him and touches the end of one plug to his tongue, and Shouto is awash in light, every bulb around him glowing bright and blinding and goddamnit why is this tree so fucking big that it needs twelve strings of lights.

He hears more than sees Jirou slap Kaminari hard on the back of the head until he spits the plug out into the snow.

“Gross, Kaminari! Do you have to put it in your mouth?”

“Tastes good!” he defends, but it only earns him another shove.

Shouto blinks the spots from his vision now that the lights have gone dark around him. Jirou’s sweater is probably the least ugly of the bunch, especially next to the yellow tinsel disaster Kaminari wears. It’s a simple blue with a star of David made of silver glitter on the front and some kind of punk rock shoulder spikes that look horribly out of place. Still, it has nothing on the sweater he’d seen Sero wearing, the same blue but with a menorah hooked up with actual blinking lights poking through the fabric and bedazzled words loudly proclaiming “Lit.”

Shouto has a brief moment of wishful thinking for calm, tame, blue, even if it meant he had to wear flashing lights. Anything, really, anything but this god awful red and white striped monstrosity. It’s not even a little soft, and it’s been getting glitter on everything he touches since he’d been wrestled into it.

“I’m not even religious,” he’d complained under his breath when Uraraka had shoved it at him weeks ago.

“It’s a candy cane! Candy canes aren’t religious, they’re just delicious! I’m sure Deku would agree it’s fitting!”

He’s going to have to start building up an immunity to statements like that, or else Uraraka will soon have him doing her bidding at every turn. As though sensing his thoughts on her, Uraraka turns and flashes him a thumbs up, her own bedazzled sweater twinkling with every move. Shouto tries to show the full spectrum of his distaste in the small moment of contact before Izuku steals his attention.

It’s really not fair. The theme was ugly holiday sweaters, but Izuku just looks unfairly adorable. Even with layers and layers of shirts below it making him puffy and lumpy, the green blob his boyfriend makes in the snow makes him feel floaty and warm. He looks like a Christmas tree, green hair, green eyes, green sweater with every square inch covered in tinsel, glued on pom poms, or lights. It’s a mess, and it looks itchy as all hell, but Shouto wants to touch it anyway. Izuku gives him a shy wave with his mittens.

“Hey, peppermint prince! Can you stop ogling your boyfriend for a hot second? We need you over here,” Kirishima says as he makes his way around the tree, Yaomomo still balanced precariously on his shoulders. Shouto sighs steam and goes to follow, but Kaminari chooses that moment to grab up the plug again and too late, he feels the string of lights tighten around his leg.

His momentum carries him forward and he wobbles before careening downwards. Kirishima shoots a hand out to steady him, but he can’t support both him and Yaomomo, and so the three of them tumble in a heap into the thick blanket of snow at their feet. The crunch of snow beneath his cheek is a bitingly cold insult.

Shouto growls and grumbles but Kirishima’s laughter overwhelms the sound, and Yaomomo isn’t far behind. He sits up slowly, grumpy at the cold wet spots on his knees, and starts to detangle himself from the lights. Kirishima’s rough hand pats snow off of his back and Shouto returns the favor without much thought, tugging him back when Kirishima tries to get up before the largest clump is free of his spiked hair. Jirou is kneeling in the snow next to Yaomomo, and they’re grinning at each other.

Without meaning to, Shouto turns his head to find Izuku again, only to come nose to nose with the boy.

“Sorry Shouto,” he whispers for only him to hear. “I should have caught you.”

The cold feels very far away all of a sudden.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shouto mumbles with warm cheeks. Next to him, Kirishima rolls away and goes to rub his knuckles over Kaminari’s head for his recklessness.

Nimble fingers pull away at the last of the lights trapping him leg, and Izuku gives him a shy smile with slightly blue lips and Shouto is taken by the image of leaning forward and kissing them until they’re pink again and god sometimes he forgets just how very, very gay he is for freckles and curly hair and everything Izuku. The ugliest sweater in the world couldn’t keep his heart from racing in his chest when Izuku looks at him like that.

The moment comes to an abrupt halt when a snowball smacks Shouto directly in the face.

“S-sorry Todoroki! I was aiming for-”

Kaminari’s words are cut off with a choke as Izuku hurls a snowball almost dead on into the boy’s mouth.

“Ack! Brain freeze!”

Izuku makes a sinfully devious face of triumph that lasts exactly as long as it takes for Uraraka to toss one at the back of his head.

“Ah! Cold! Cold cold cold!” Izuku scrambles to rub at his neck, shivering violently when a chunk falls down the back of his sweater. Shouto chokes and Izuku turns to him with exaggerated betrayal. “Don’t laugh at me! I just defended your honor!”

“Aww Deku, you’re like his knight in shining armor!” Uraraka says whilst rolling another snowball.

Izuku goes very red, sputtering and waving his hands in denial and Shouto goes ahead and slaps the snowball out of the air before Uraraka can nail his boyfriend with snow again.

“Oi, timeout, we have to finish this before it gets too dark!”

“Can we please not be sitting in the snow now?” Jirou snarks, and Yaoyorozu lifts her easily to her feet.

Izuku gulps and nods vigorously, and they help each other to stand. Shouto warms his left hand and lets it sit on the back of Izuku’s neck for a moment, and the boy leans into him.

With their clothes just damp enough to let the cold in, they’re a little more careless about where they hang the lights, eager to go inside where the rest of the class is waiting with food and hot drinks. That’s not to say that there aren’t several more sneak attacks in the time it takes to finish, and Shouto is watching Izuku’s blue lips with increasing frequency.

Finally, Kaminari hooks up the extension cord, which is really three cords plus one extra long cord made by Yaomomo, and the tree lights up, a little lopsided perhaps, but it looks fine to him. He likes the way the colored lights look on the snow, how it sparkles, and how it bounces off of everything until the courtyard is bright enough for him to count the freckles on Izuku’s nose. His boyfriend is grinning excitedly next to him, and Shouto decides that it was worth it. He also decides that Christmas lights reflected in wide green eyes is one of his favorite things.

When they’re finally filing into the dorms they’re all just a little bit colder than they want to be, but the mood is light. It’s hard to be surly when every inch of the dorm building is decked in holiday decorations. It’s all a little over the top for him, but he appreciates how everyone’s smiles become a little bit brighter at the sight of colored ribbons and wreaths and hanging ornaments. His attention, however, sticks on Asui and Izuku, who are especially shivering.

Uraraka takes Asui’s hand and pulls her toward the kitchen where Satou is handing out hot cocoa, so that takes care of one of them. They fall to the back of the group and Shouto takes advantage of a brief moment out of sight to hold his hand out to Izuku. The boy looks up and gives him a grateful grin as he holds Shouto’s left hand in both of his. 

“Your lips are blue,” Shouto murmurs, not really sure what he’s offering, but offering just the same. Izuku looks shy when he presses cool lips to the back of Shouto’s warm hand, holds it there for a moment. Shouto’s spine tingles and he tries very hard not to let his hand over heat. 

As soon as Izuku moves to release him, Shouto brings Izuku’s hands up to his mouth and blows warm air over them until Izuku lets out a happy hum. Shouto leaves a warm kiss along his knuckles before he lets go.

Izuku giggles nervously and holds the hand to his chest.

“Hey lovebirds, better watch out for mistletoe!” Kirishima says over his shoulder as they enter the common room, which, now that he looks, is a veritable minefield of holly and mistletoe hung together indiscriminately. He resolves to stay out from under the doorways.

“You too, Kirishima-kun! Ashido-san was talking about trapping you and Kaachan tonight,” Izuku says and pokes at the center of Kirishima’s back, between two of the glittery poinsettia pinned to his red sweater.

“Oh, that’d go well.” He rolls his eyes.

Shouto says nothing, but Izuku laughs at the quirk of his eyebrows.

Satou comes through carrying a large tray of desserts, Shouji not far behind, each of his extra arms balancing a tray or basket. Suddenly it makes sense why Satou would ask for Shouji's help; he must be able to stir three things at once, and still have an arm to spare.  

As they settle in among their other classmates, Izuku excuses himself and hastily pulls Iida into a rapid fire conversation. Shouto lets him go knowing that he’ll make his way back eventually, and fills a plate with as many sweets as he deems polite, maybe a few more than is polite if he’s being honest, before retreating the the edge of the common space. He lets himself relax against a wall as he munches, and soon finds himself joined by Tokoyami. His sweater is dark and at first glance it seems non denominational, but looking closer it does have the word Yule across the shoulders and a star on the front. Or is it a pentagram?

Somehow it seems rude to ask.

They both seem to enjoy the bustle best at a slight distance, and the calm between them makes it easy to pick up the conversations going on around them- a guilty pleasure he knows Tokoyami shares from their occasional time in the library. At the snack table, Uraraka begrudgingly admits that Satou’s sugar cookies are just as good as hers, and Asui helps herself to some kind of treat that looks a little like a fried pancake with candied nuts. Shouto looks down at his own plate to study an identical one.

“They’re latkes,” Tokoyami says next to him.

Shouto makes a noise to acknowledge him and bites into it.

“Holy fuck,” he says softly.

If it was Izuku standing next to him, he might moan at the taste. But it’s Tokoyami, so he only nods appreciatively.

The room is steadily filling with students, baked goods, and uglier and uglier sweaters. It’s as though the entire student body had set out to find the greatest contrast to the glittering decorations covering every inch of the common area. Music fills the space between conversations and Shouto settles his back against the wall and chews on a sugar cookie shaped and iced to look like a candy cane. He frowns when he sees how well it matches his sweater and drops it back on his plate, picking up a jelly filled donut instead.

Bakugou enters the room like he owns it, as per usual, and without thought Shouto seeks out Izuku with his eyes. He’s a fair distance away and preoccupied with Iida near the (smaller, better decorated) christmas tree, and he lets him be. Instead he shifts his gaze to track Bakugou’s movement towards where Kaminari is mercilessly ribbing Kirishima for his flower covered sweater.

“Hey, ugly it may be but this baby got me a phone number!” Kirishima proudly holds out a slightly crumpled napkin, black numbers scrawled in bubbly handwriting.

“Whaaaha who gave you a number when you’re dressed like my granny’s garden?!”

“The girl behind the counter at the coffee shop on fourth!” He beams.

“This should be interesting,” Tokoyami mutters next to him. They both watch Bakugou’s approach, out of Kirishima’s and Kaminari’s line of sight as they bicker.

“Dude, you should give it to me!”

“What? No way!”

“Come on, you’re in love with Bakugou anyway!”

Tokoyami makes a sound like cooing laughter and Shouto hits the panic button in his mind.

“Shh! What the hell is wrong with you?” Kirishima hisses.

The human equivalent of sticking a fork in a toaster seems unrepentant, but then, he’s also blissfully unaware of the looming danger.

If he lights himself on fire right now, he could set off the fire alarm. It would ruin the holiday party, but his best friend would be alive and decidedly unexploded. Shouto watches carefully, ready to do just that, but Bakugou’s face doesn’t look any more murderous than usual. In fact it’s almost blank as he comes up right behind Kirishima and Kaminari, who are grappling over the napkin with the phone number written on it.

Uraraka, two feet away and chatting enthusiastically with Tsuyu pauses mid sentence, taking a little gasp of air as she closes her eyes. Without breaking stride Bakugou snatches the napkin from Kirishima’s outstretched hand and shoves it under Uraraka’s nose right in time to catch her sneeze.

“Achoo! Whew. Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Cover your diseased mouth,” he grunts, but there’s something horribly satisfied in the expression he wears as Kirishima and Kaminari both moan dramatically.

“That's so not manly,” Kirishima whines.

Shouto and Tokoyami are both speechless as Bakugou continues on like nothing has changed. That is to say, with violent enthusiasm and a hostile humor. Kirishima seems unaware that he must have been in hearing range for Kaminari’s slip, and Bakugou… Bakugou has the two of them in matching headlocks, shouting about one thing or another. Kirishima is laughing brightly in his hold and Shouto sags against the wall as the crisis is- probably?- averted.

Shouto wonders if Bakugou is holding onto Kirishima a bit tighter than usual, he holds him longer than he does Kaminari, roughing up his hair until it falls around his face and the boy groans in protest. Is that Bakugou’s version of a lingering touch?

“What must he be thinking, to overhear such an ill fated confession?” Tokoyami muses.

Shouto shakes his head. He’s closely tied to not one but two people with strong connections to this ticking time bomb of angst, but he can honestly say, “I have no idea what goes on inside of Bakugou’s head.”

[viinas-writes]

“Collateral Damage”

Written for the Bakugou Katsuki zine “From the Ground Up” Words: 2573

Katsuki doesn’t know a life without noise. Nitroglycerin wets his palms and he can almost feel the warm, corrosive droplets roll and drip from away from his fingertips, turning the ground he walks on into a minefield. Over the years, he’s learned to find a home among the chaos; its familiarity has even brought him some degree of comfort.

But sometimes, the loudness pours in through his ears and expands until his skull threatens to crack open from the force. Even he, The Explosion Hero, risks being swept up and away by it all.

And so, he escapes.

Fresh, dewy grass bends under the worn soles of his hiking boots. In the solitude of the forest, he’s protected from the tragedy of time, relentlessly elapsing for pro heroes and civilians alike—intervals between one horror and the next. It’s a pessimistic view of the world, but Katsuki’s job doesn’t lend itself well to optimism.

Sunlight spills through the foliage overhead and forms glowing patterns across his bare arms. Thoughts of the city are hushed by the gentle whistle of wind ruffling the leaves and his hair.

He approaches the bottom of the edge of the mountain trail and feels a rush of exhilaration. In some ways, the beginning is the best part.

***

A flashy quirk for a boy with bright prospects. That was what everyone told him.

His childhood home was a hurricane—turbulent and dangerous for anyone too weak to withstand it. He dodged lightning with quick wit; he drowned out the thunder by being louder, crueler; he let the rain soak him to the bone until he was indiscernible from the storm.

He fought.

He adapted.

He survived.

His strong quirk was a reward for withstanding the challenges the universe continued to hurl at him. It was what he deserved. It was the weapon he’d learn to wield to raise himself higher, louder, become more dangerous than anyone else could ever be—and nobody would let him forget how he was all the more extraordinary for it.

He drank in every syllable of praise like it was a drug. He was sinking, always sinking, drowning as salt water filled his lungs, waiting for the validation to come to his rescue like a rush of oxygen.

He was an addict, seeking victory and excellence with dangerous fervor.

He was an explosion, tearing through the walls that challenged him.

He was more afraid than he was kind and he bulldozed over anybody too weak to propel him forward. It was the natural order of things. It was the gift the universe had given him and the strike it had condemned the others with.

But the lens through which Katsuki viewed the world was distorted.

***

A delicious ache forms in his arms as his body follows the familiar mechanics of climbing; pain quiets his thoughts of everything else. The effort begins in his core and is bookended by each handhold and foothold. Spring wind peppers soft kisses on his shins and cools the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

It’s quiet.

He was able to discard his hero persona at the bottom of this mountain and drink in the sweet comfort of his new anonymity. Empty blue skies don’t recognize faces, accomplishments, or even mistakes. He doesn’t have to be Katsuki Bakugou or the Explosion Hero under the fleeting, indifferent gaze of nature. All he exists as is another form of organic matter, breathing, living, and one day dying in tandem with the equally indiscriminate trees that surround him.

It’s so extraordinarily, beautifully, quiet.

It’s the only time where glory is too inconsequential to give him pause or relief. Alone, but not lonely. Accompanied by sore muscles and gloves soaked in poison sweat, but protected from the parts of himself that are too afraid of silence to ravage his head.

***

He raised himself higher and higher and higher until his vision was obscured by stark white clouds. The sunlight was unbearably hot, searing through his clothes, through his skin, through his veins, scorching anyone who dared come too close.

It was never enough.

Just a little higher, above the burn.

Just a little higher, stronger than the pain.

Just a little higher…

...and the fall will be sure to kill him.

But from so many worlds above the ground, he had a long, long, long way down. He sunk through sludge, panicked and livid as it filled his body, snuffing out the sunlight in his veins. He fell through his childhood memories, facing off against Deku and flailing wildly in search of purchase on his old venom, because that had always saved him in the past. He fell through opponent after opponent at the Sports Festival, begging for someone to hit him hard enough to make it all stop.

But he continued to fall.

***

A ledge provides sanctuary from his trek. He backs into the rocky wall, tilting his head back as a breeze fans across his cheeks, tousles his hair. This impasse leaves him feeling airy and light the way he might if he were passing through a liminal space. If he drops his guard too far, maybe he’ll be swept away alongside the leaves and loose earth scuttling past his feet.

He wants to keep going. The burn and tension in his muscles beckons him like a drug. If only victory were so tangible, something he could melt on his tongue, inject into his veins, breathe through his lungs, to materialize whatever illusory endpoint continues to hang just out of his reach.  

He’s almost intoxicated by the idea, but he waits. This isn’t like anything in his life, at least not so literally. If he pushes himself too far here, he may falter. If he falls, nothing will be waiting to catch him.

One, two, three...

He breathes.

Four, five, six...

He waits.

Seven, eight, nine...

Gnarled branches, lush green leaves, and the pale blue spaces in between blur together when his gaze relaxes.

Ten.

He blinks, steps forward, and continues on.

Higher.

Higher.

Higher…

***

Kirishima was kind—a boy comprised of something unconditional that all at once tore him open and soothed any subsequent pain. A boy with sunset red eyes holding a wealth of passion. The way Kirishima challenged him should have disoriented Katsuki, even scared him, but that kindness was unique. A novelty void of pity and condescension. There was admiration and respect and an inexplicably humbling daringness.

Being around him was something like friendship, maybe.

They found themselves at a diner on their last night before camp, a mess of textbooks opened between them. Katsuki still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here, tutoring his kind-of friend to prepare him for whatever hell Aizawa-sensei had in store for him. Somehow, being needed like this drew Katsuki like a moth to fire.

Hours claimed chapters and chapters burned through their attention until they’d worn themselves out and a waitress informed them that the diner would close soon. Once outside, caught by the dim glow of street lamps and the faintest ghost of starlight, Kirishima slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. He tensed for only a moment, then relaxed and scowled.

“Thanks, man!” he said. “I owe you for this.”

Katsuki extricated himself and shoved Kirishima away. “Repay me by actually passing a test for once.”

Kirishima chuckled. He gazed at the sky. “I’ve been worried, you know. About the whole provisional license thing. Ever since Sato and I failed the practical, I’ve been losing sleep. I mean, it’s no secret I’m not all that smart. If I don’t become a hero, what else is there for me?”

Katsuki snorted. “Dumbass.”

Kirishima would become a hero. Those sunset eyes didn’t belong behind a desk. People that shone like him were born to change the world.

“Encouraging,” Kirishima said, but when Katsuki cast a glance in his direction, he saw him smile.

Somehow, between moments of danger, excitement, and even quiet like this, Kirishima learned how to understand the nuances of Katsuki and respond in turn. It made talking to each other effortless. Nothing was hidden behind thinly veiled pride. Here, Katsuki was unapologetically himself.

Still, there was a version of himself he didn’t know how to be that burned in the center of his chest. Vulnerable. Afraid. Weak. It threatened to spill through the tiny cracks Deku, Todoroki, even fucking All Might have managed to pound onto his skin.

He opened his mouth to speak, because if anyone could handle this, maybe it was the one person who knew how to read the truth behind Bakugou’s brutality.

But when Kirishima caught his glance, the words died on his tongue.

***

It took Katsuki too long to learn that needing people didn’t make him weak. Stubborn pride built mountains in between where he stood and where he wanted to be. He was trapped in a horizonless loop where the same struggles challenged him again and again.

But surmounting the insurmountable was what it meant to be a hero.

Ten years ago, he leapt into the air, through dust, smoke, and debris littering a battlefield; and when he grabbed onto his friend’s outstretched hand, Katsuki saw a horizon for the very first time.

Needing people didn’t make him weak. He’d gone a lifetime refusing help as if it would invalidate his success. He’d climbed the same mountain day in and out until he memorized the way the earth would scrape his calloused hands, the ache in his core, his breath catching in his throat every time he neared its peak. But he never reached the proverbial top. He couldn’t on his own. The day he saw his future was the day he was strong enough to depend on someone else.

The view is incredible.

***

He grew heavy from his fifteen year free-fall. Power and control transmuted into delusional anger that held his good sense captive. He was a meteorite, falling, falling, falling.

Why was I the reason for All Might’s end?

And all at once, he hit the ground.

The impact shattered him. Shards of bone scattered through debris. Torrents of blood ran across the asphalt. He was a million mismatched, jagged pieces of a person he once recognized as himself.

But he wasn’t dead.

Broken and hollow, he clambered to his feet. He watched his hero fall apart and then reconstruct—a god, the last gust of smoke blowing across a cracked mirror, and finally the weary remnants of a spectacle of a hero.

He was so small.

He was so breakable.

He was human.

But he wasn’t dead.

A painstaking echo to All Might’s roar, Katsuki would reassemble his broken self and surpass that legacy.

***

Just a little farther…

The end is in his line of sight. He pushes on, grabbing ledge after ledge as if his nerve endings depend on contact with the earth. He can’t feel anything but this—the glory, the anticipation, the pain, and a surge of pride that belongs only to him, for him.

That last stretch is always the hardest; it’s when his aching muscles beg for relief, when the wind whips around him with insistence. He is a song, crescendoing, his buzzing veins and racing heart beating like a drum.

In some ways the beginning is the best part, but in others, it’s this: an extraordinary challenge—Katsuki is anything if not someone who always needs to win.

***

A lance through his chest.

That was all it took to put an end to the Explosion Hero. Two decades of dreaming, training, breaking himself again and again until his bones could no longer remember what it felt like to exist without pain.

It happened so quickly.

He gasped, fell to his knees, collapsed as blackness tugged at the edges of his vision. The ground under him grew so warm, but the rest of him went cold.

“KACCHAN!”

Tendrils of smoke curled around Deku’s blurry form. Tendrils of sleep yanked Katsuki under. The last thing he remembered was Deku’s strangled voice when he dealt their opponent a violent Detroit Smash.

And then he woke up. In a hospital bed, no less.

He wasn’t dead.

Katsuki would later be told it had been several days; Deku had come to visit every single one. It wasn’t surprising to Katsuki that the asshole probably blamed himself for the entire ordeal.

It also wasn’t surprising to Katsuki that the asshole was right by his bedside when he opened his eyes.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki blinked away the sleep in his eyes. His bones creaked when he moved. A dull ache throbbed in the center of his chest. When he brought his hand to his heart, he noticed the bandages.

He wasn’t dead.

“Deku…” He screwed his eyes shut, breathing out a swear.

“You almost didn’t make it.” Deku’s eyes glistened with tears. If Katsuki had the energy, he’d tell him to stop fucking crying.

Instead he said, “It wasn’t your fault, dumbass.” He closed his eyes, fell back against the headboard. Heaviness settled in his body.

A stretch of silence, and then Deku sighed. “You’re stubborn, Kacchan.”

“Mm,” said Katsuki. He opened his eyes and studied Deku’s face. Weary shadows fell under his eyes. His unkempt hair stood on end. His eyes were as soft as they’d always been, but the years had chipped away all the childish roundness in his face.

He remembered when they were kids, running through the woods before either of them had any idea what their quirks would be. Katsuki was vicious. Izuku was abominably kind. They knew each other so intimately and yet somehow not at all.

Where had the years gone?

When did they get so old?

“Deku,” he started, his voice gravelly. He worried the hem of his sheets, keeping his hands busy in case he started to do something undignifying, like tremble. Their lives were so short. He could have died with a lance through his chest, maybe having been a good hero, but never a good man.

“What is it?” His expression was so honest; open like outstretched arms waiting for a trust fall. Inexorably, irrevocably kind Deku.

“I’m sorry.”

Deku blinked. “For what?”

“Everything.”

Life was so much bigger than something as inconsequential as being ‘the best’, whatever that meant to him, if it meant anything at all. He was given a second chance to be honest. To stop hiding behind his own skin. To believe for the first time that it wasn’t about being better for the sake of being the best.

It was about seizing every day while you still could.

***

The first time Katsuki reached the top of a mountain, he never expected it to be so humbling. Everything alive has its way of ringing so subtly everywhere but here. Everyone grows too accustomed to the way it spills into the cracks of human existence; they don’t realize it was here before them and will survive after them.

It makes Katsuki feel insignificant, but there’s peace in that.

The cool air bites into the earth just as it does to the chilled skin on his arms. He isn’t anyone but a moving piece in an continuous cycle where everything lives, dies, and starts again.

It’s quiet, but it’s deafening.

It accepts him as whoever he is.

He steps forward, the tips of his toes just peeking over the edge, and closes his eyes as the wind ruffles his hair and sunshine warms his cheeks.

It’s home.