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amethystunarmed · 5 years ago

Text

A Story About Monsters

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou; Minor Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako

Word Count: 6849

AO3 Link

My piece for the @krbkbigbang! Wonderful art for this fic was done by @writerdragon!

Bakugou was sent out of the palace to find a monster and stay out of the way of peace negotiations. Instead, he finds a lost prince, and the key to his kingdom’s safety. That is, if curses, bandits, and swamp witches don’t stop him first.

~~~~

To say Bakugou was pissed would be an understatement. Even the mere thought of his conversation with Aizawa had him grinding his teeth. “Stupid fucking Deku,” Bakugou muttered as he tugged his cape from a thorn bush, “Gets to stay in the castle and babysit a fucking prince and I’m out here chasing a fairytale.” Or a monster, apparently. That’s what the townspeople had called it when he had asked around. A great winged creature appeared above the forest. Pleas for aid had been coming into the castle for weeks now, but Bakugou wasn’t stupid. He would have needed to be to not notice the fact Aizawa sent him out only three days before the arrival of King Enji and the rest of the party from Endeavor.

“You’re trying to get rid of me!” Bakugou had shouted. Magic had sparked at his fingers, until Aizawa leveled red eyes at him.

“This is a serious mission, but I will not deny that diplomacy isn’t your strong suit.”

“Fucking show you a strong suit, dammit!” He angrily slung an explosion at the brush in front of him.

“So, you’re the one who’s been causing all of those explosions, huh?”

Bakugou looked up and realized he’d entered a clearing. Now that he was beyond the tree line, he could see an ivy covered tower, seeming impossibly tall to be constructed this far from town. The grass nearby had been converted into a massive garden, which was currently being tended by a guy tall enough that Bakugou would have to look up at him..

He was leaning on a hoe, absolutely drenched in sweat from the work. His shocking red hair was pulled back with a bandana, and dirt coated his hands. A smear of it rested across his cheekbone, like he had tried to wipe his sweat away.

He was smiling at Bakugou like he was the greatest thing he’d ever seen.

“Some of us live out here, ya know?” he continued, teasing like his presence here made any fucking sense.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, meaning Bakugou had full view of his biceps and pecs and abs and fuck—

“It’s magic, moron,” Bakugou growled. He clenched his fist shut and the few fires left from his explosion died. “I’m not gonna start a forest fire.”

“Glad you have a plan. You don’t have a wagon, so I don’t think you’re here for me—“

“The fuck does that–?“

“—so what brings you all the way out here?”

Bakugou huffed. “Some people reported seeing a ‘monster’ in these woods. Heard anything about that?”

The other man’s smile faltered. His eyes widened in what looked like panic.

“Nah, haven’t seen anything like that out here… You sure you’re in the right forest?”

Bakugou had pretty good intuition, but didn’t need it to know this guy was full of shit. He cracked his knuckles, and when he rested his hands down, he rested his palm against the hilt of his sword.

“Uh-huh… You gotta a name?” Bakugou asked. The guy bit his lip.

“I’m Eijirou…” That name rang a bell in Bakugou’s head, but he shoved it away for now.

“Eijirou, you gonna tell me why you’re lying to me?”

Eijirou sucked in a breath.

“Well, you see,” he began.

And promptly dashed for the door.

“Oh no you don’t!” Bakugou yelled, and dashed after him.

~~~

The last thing Bakugou expected to find when he broke down the door were the luxurious furnishings that decorated the house. Velvet curtains hung over the windows, plush blue cushions adorned every seat and couch. He was pretty sure the vase on the table was actual porcelain.

“Dude! Do you have any idea how hard that is gonna be to fix?” Eijirou whined, but Bakugou ignored him. He tackled Eijirou to the ground, and held a sparking hand over him. Eijirou’s chest rumbled under him as he groaned. He glared at Bakugou and for a moment, Bakugou swore–

But Eijirou slumped down, totally normal.

“What’s this about?”

“Did you steal this stuff?” Bakugou held tighter to his throat.

“What? No! It’s mine!”

“I’m supposed to believe that some fucking farmer has a claw footed sofa?”

“Uh… it’s a family heirloom?”

“How’d you even get this tower, huh? Why did no one in town mention you either, despite pointing me in the perfect direction to find you?”

“You don’t understand–“

“Make a nice hideout for yourself and then spread a rumor to keep people away?” He slammed Kirishima against the ground. “I’m taking you back to Yuuei–“

“Kirishima!” He shouted, and shoved Bakugou off of him so quickly, the world blurred. Bakugou skidded to the side, too shocked to retaliate.

“What’d you say?”

“Kirishima,” Eijirou panted, and now Bakugou remembered why that name seemed so familiar. “Eijirou Kirishima. I’m a prince of Riot.”

Bakugou scowled. “That’s a legend. The prince is dead.”

“I can prove it!” Kirishima insisted, and scrambled over to a nearby desk. He rifled through the top drawer, spilling yellowed parchment without a care. With a relieved gasp, Kirishima pulled forth a small silver object, and held it out for Bakugou to gaze upon. Bakugou sharply inhaled. It was a signet ring, with the image of a crown inside a gear, with two touching fists below it. The symbol of the crown prince, supposedly buried with the ill-fated firstborn.

Bakugou grit his teeth and steadied his voice.

“How?”

“What do you-”

“How are you here? How are you alive?”

Kirishima stared at the floor.

“I... I wasn’t fit to be a prince,” he said, “So... I was sent to live out here.”

“That’s messed up,”Bakugou said before he could stop himself, and Kirishima’s eyes widened. He stuck his hands out, waving them as if to ward off Bakugou’s assumption.

“No, no, they took care of me! They sent nannies to look after me until I was old enough to care for myself, and sent supplies every month! They didn’t just abandon me out here!”

“Until you were... How old were you?”

Kirishima tapped his chin and thought for a moment. “I must have been... five or six, I think?”

What the actual fuck. What the hell could a five year old have done to lose the rights to a crown? Why would parents just abandon their child? Why is he defending them?

Bakugou’s head pounded with questions, each drilling into his brain like a flock of woodpeckers. He blurted out the first one he could manage to piece together.

“So you’ve just... stayed here?”

Kirishima’s shoulders hunched. He tightened his arms around himself.

“Why would I leave?” He mumbled to the floor. “They sent me everything I needed, until I was fine on my own.”

Bakugou looked around, at the fine furniture, scuffed and scratched with overuse. At the pants Kirishima wore, shoddily patched with too big stitches, only reaching his mid-shin. At the dirt and sweat coating him, from growing his own food outside.

And Bakugou realized what had happened.

“The supplies stopped coming.”

Kirishima bit his lip.

“They know I can take care of myself.”

A second realization hit Bakugou.

“You don’t know.”

Finally, Kirishima looked up at him. He cocked his head to the side, gazing at Bakugou in honest confusion.

“Know what?”

The reason the Endeaven Royalty was visiting Yuuei. The reason King Todoroki and All Might Yagi were locked in fierce debate. The reason the balance of the kingdoms was at risk.

Bakugou took a deep breath.

“The Riot kingdom fell a little more than eight years ago. The royal family is dead.”

Kirishima stumbled, and fell to one knee.

“They... They’re dead?”

Somewhere in the back of Bakugou’s brain, he realized he was talking to a king. He took to one knee and clamped a hand over his chest. He bowed his head.

“I’m sorry for your loss, your Majesty.”

Hands clamped around his shoulders and pulled him to his feet.

“Don’t- Don’t do that,” Kirishima stammered, “I’m... I’m not...”

“A king?”

Kirishima let out a high pitched squeal that might have been a laugh.

“I’m barely even a prince!” He knotted his fingers in his hair and tugged at it. “I can’t- I’m not-” His eyes leveled with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Have you heard of the sorcerer All for One?”

Kirishima frowned. “Isn’t he just a myth?”

“And the prince who lives in the tower in the woods isn’t?”

Kirishima’s nose crinkled, but he didn’t interrupt again.

“He sent his successor, Shigaraki, into the very heart of Riot. It was a massacre.” Kirishima flinched, and Bakugou felt a twinge of something in his stomach. He ignored it. “For nearly a decade, he and his band ruled the land, terrorizing anyone who tried to stop him. Until All Might Yagi and King Todoroki defeated him. Now of course they’re fighting over the rights to the kingdom.” Bakugou scoffed. “That’s where I would be if I wasn’t busy chasing fairytales.”

“Wait, one of the other kingdoms is just... taking over?” Kirishima said.

“Obviously,” Bakugou snorted. “It’s not like the Kirishima family can...” He paused and gazed at Kirishima intently. Kirishima’s eyes widened.

“No–” He tried to step backwards, but Bakugou snatched his wrist. He cackled.

“Bad at diplomacy my ass! I’m about to stop the biggest war in Yuuei’s history!”

Kirishima shook his head and tugged at Bakugou’s hold. “Dude, let go of me. I mean it. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Psh, like you could. Now come on.”

Bakugou tried to pull Kirishima forward, and the world inverted.

Bakugou gasped as the flip slammed him into the floor. He hadn’t prepared himself to take the hit and he was paying for it now. Kirishima stood over him, already back in a fighting stance. He grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry man,” he chuckled, “That wasn’t very manly of me.”

“I’ll get you back to the castle if I have to drag you there myself!” Bakugou spat, and launched himself to his feet. Kirishima took a breath of hesitation, and Bakugou tackled him to the floor.

It was an ugly fight. Even though Bakugou couldn’t use his magic in such close quarters, he was prepared for an easy fight. One lucky shot at the beginning didn’t mean anything. Yet Bakugou quickly found himself pulling out every trick he knew. Kirishima was clearly untrained, but strong and desperate. He clawed and bit without shame, anything to shake Bakugou’s superior training. More than once, Bakugou found himself face down in the dirt, having to quickly roll out of the way an incoming punch. He managed to get Kirishima out of the house, but he refused to move further than beyond the boundaries of his garden. He tiptoed around the areas with intricate care, like he was afraid of getting too far from the tower. It was distracting him.

The fight had been a long one, and Bakugou could tell Kirishima was losing steam. All he needed was one mistake and– there. Bakugou reached forward and grabbed Kirishima’s vest. He tugged Kirishima forward, intent on getting him in a headlock. He was prepared for surprise, for the movement to catch Kirishima off guard. What he didn’t expect was for Kirishima to completely go limp in his hold. Bakugou’s knees buckled and the two of them dropped.

They slammed against the ground, and before Bakugou could react, Kirishima flipped him on his back.

“Why do you want me to go with you?”

“What the hell?” Bakugou sneered.

“Tell me!” Kirishima was glaring directly at him. He was still lying on top of Bakugou, hands firmly pinning Bakugou to the ground. Bakugou’s face felt hot, from more than just the exertion of the fight.

“Because I’m gonna be the hero of the kingdom and show Aizawa what a mistake it was to try and get rid of me!” He snarled, desperately trying to break free of Kirishima’s hold.

“The real reason,” he insisted. It was a statement, no doubt in his voice.

“That is the reason!”

“Give me a reason to trust you, or I swear on the whole pantheon of Gods, I will lock myself in that tower and you will never get me out.” Bakugou could feel Kirishima panting. The force behind his words pressed their chests together. He tried to shove him away. Kirishima only glared.

“Fuck,” Bakugou sighed, “Okay, listen. King Enji is a warmongering tyrant. With Riot’s resources, he’d have enough power to conquer Yuuei, and any other kingdom he wants. And Yuuei is too far from Riot to properly protect it. Endeavor would just take it over anyway, or, worse, All for One may return. You coming back and taking the throne? That’s the only chance of this whole disaster not ending in bloodshed, alright?” He turned his head to the side and stared at the trees. “Happy?”

Kirshima hummed, and thought it over. He then beamed up at Bakugou, so bright he felt blinded.

And so Bakugou gained a travel companion.

~~~

Honestly, traveling with Kirishima wasn’t that bad. Bakugou had kept a close eye on him at first. He couldn’t understand the sudden change in attitude, the way he went limp into Bakugou’s hold after they fell beyond the tree line. Despite being a hermit, Kirishima was dense with muscle and (though Bakugou would never tell him this) that fight was one of the closest matches he had in awhile. If Kirishima had really wanted to run, Bakugou wasn’t certain he could have stopped him without knocking him out.

And Aizawa would actually kill him if he learned Bakugou assaulted a prince.

But Kirishima never tried to run, despite his earlier protests. He merely trailed behind Bakugou, quietly at first, but becoming chattier as the day went on. At first, he paused after sentences, giving Bakugou space to respond. After Bakugou’s fifth uninterested grunt though, he seemed to take the hint, and talked more at the forest then at Bakugou. He commented on Bakugou’s fighting skills, talked about how manly Bakugou’s moves were. He babbled on about the training regimen he’d created for himself at his tower, the equipment he’d created for himself (which Bakugou honestly was a little disappointed that he hadn’t been able to see.) At one point, he stopped in his tracks, and gasped at the site of a fawn lying in a glen. He’d slapped Bakugou’s arm so hard, Bakugou instinctively flipped him and pinned him to the ground. Even then, the dopey smile never left his face.

That’s not to say Kirishima wasn’t weird as hell. The dude was twitchy as fuck. Bakugou initially assumed he just wasn’t used to being in open spaces after being locked up in that tower, but there was more to it than that. Kirishima jumped at every snapped branch, followed every bird that circled overhead with his eyes. At one point, a squirrel dashed across the path in front of them, and Kirishima lunged at it with his staff. He bared his teeth, and the look in his eyes went distant. Bakugou was pretty sure he saw him run his tongue over his canines.

“Shitty hair,” Bakugou grunted. He knew better than to touch someone with that look in their eyes. “It’s a squirrel.”

The rigidity melted from Kirishima’s posture, and Bakugou bit back a chuckle at the sight of his blush. He ducked his head.

“Right, sorry. I just...” He trailed off.

“I don’t care.” Bakugou hadn’t meant the words as a comfort. They were just true. But from the way Kirishima smiled at him, Bakugou may as well have hung the sun. The sight made something twist in Bakugou’s stomach.

So yeah. All in all, he wasn’t a bad travel companion. Gods know he was leagues better than Deku. And... there was something familiar in the way he carried himself, in the way his eyes snapped to sharp movement in the brush. Bakugou had seen it in his comrades on the battlefield, had seen it on the face of a little girl found in the remains of a burned out village. He’d even seen it in the mirror some nights, when memories screamed too loud to even consider sleep. There was a comfort in being with someone who saw the world the same way as you.

He supposes that’s why he fucked up. Why he forgot Kirishima wasn’t a disciplined soldier. Why, after a week of traveling together, he had no qualms letting Kirishima take first watch. Why he let himself slip into a deep sleep instead of a light snooze.

Then again, the whys didn’t matter. It was still his fuck up.

~~~

Bakugou grunted awake when someone kicked his side. “Fuck, shitty hair, just wake me like a normal person,” he mumbled. He blinked his eyes open, and his first thought was that it was darker than it should be. The fire was low, nearly down to embers, casting the world in a hazy red undertone. Bakugou figures that’s why it took him a moment to realize Kirishima wasn’t the person standing over him.

The blade at his throat was a pretty good indicator though.

The guy was clothed in all dark colors and kept his face halfway hidden by a scarf. Basically the most stereotypical stickup outfit Bakugou’d ever seen. He opened his mouth, mainly to call this guy a fucking jackass and hopefully warn Kirishima, but the blade pressed closer to his throat. Bakugou hissed as he felt it pierce the skin.

“Ah, ah, ah,” his captor chuckled, “No yelling. Unless you want to get your friend involved?”

Bakugou looked over and was suddenly grateful for this darkness. He didn’t want this asshole to see him pale. But he couldn’t deny the flash of fear in his chest as he saw the other bandit with Kirishima in a headlock, knife at his jugular.

Goddammit Shitty Hair.

Bakugou sighed. “I’d fucking kill for a decent squire.” Kirishima squinted at him, and Bakugou was grateful neither of the bandits were facing him. Never let this idiot play poker, Bakugou noted.

“Aw... they can’t find a worthy apprentice for the great Katsuki Bakugou.”

Shit.

Today just keeps getting better and better.

“You morons know who I am.” Bakugou grinned, baring his lips to show all of his teeth, and the man above him flinched. “Good. That means you know what a mistake this is.” He cackled as he channeled the magic from the air around him. Pins and needles snaked down his arm as the glowing orange warmth of his power pooled in his hands. The ground sizzled beneath his palms.

“H-hey,” the bandit protested, and Bakugou relished in the way his voice cracked. “I think you’re forgetting the position you’re in.”

“Nah,” he scoffed, “I just know I could blast a hole through your rib cage before you could even think about slitting my throat.”

“But, could you stop my partner before he killed your squire?”

Bakugou growled. He hadn’t thought of that. The kingdom needed Kirishima. All Might needed Kirishima.

(His stomach rolled at the thought of a gash through Kirishima’s throat, blood bubbling out like a lazy fountain–)

Against his screaming instincts, Bakugou let his magic drift away.

“Wait, Bakugou–” Kirishima cut off with a grunt as his captor elbowed his stomach.

“Hey, what the hell?” Bakugou said, and the bandit standing over him rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, we won’t kill him,” the man assured him. “After all, someone needs to tell the tale of how the Dusk Bandits slayed one of Yuuei’s legendary guards.”

Bakugou’s last thought as the sword rose above him was I can’t believe I’m gonna be killed by fucking edgy wannabes.

(I’m sorry Deku... Wish I had told you that sooner.)

Next to him was a roar and a horrible shattering. Bakugou’s eyes snapped to the right, just in time for him to roll out of the way as the man who’d been holding Kirishima launched into his partner. The two crumpled to the ground in a disarray of smashing limbs and Bakugou heard at least one wrist snap.

“What the hell–” Bakugou turned to face the new threat, instinctively reaching for the sword already taken off him by the bandit. His jaw dropped as he beheld the creature before him.

He was enormous. Red leathery wings stretched over the camp in a ten foot wingspan. Foot long horns, so dark they were nearly invisible against the night sky, arched over his head. Scales ran down the sides of his neck and arms, coating his hands. They stretched into long hooked claws at the ends of his fingers. In the light of the dying fire, they glittered like blood. His teeth were fangs, not his canines, his teeth, every single one of them. He roared again, so loud Bakugou couldn’t help but cover his ears. His jaw unhinged a little too far, revealing serrated molars all the way to the corner of his jaw. And his eyes... they glowed yellow with reflected moonlight, slitted pupils paper thin with rage.

Bakugou’s breath left his lungs.

Kirishima was breathtaking.

And a dragon, apparently.

“Actually, you know what?” one of the men behind Bakugou squeaked. “Fuck this. That guy’s a dragon.” He heard scrambling and clanking as they scampered away into the woods.

Normally Bakugou would have chased after them, made them pay for daring to think they could best him, but he had more pressing things to deal with. Given the way Kirishima ducked his head, his rage read on his face. The fierce posture from before was long gone. He nervously fiddled with his own tail. His massive wingspan curled in close around his body, as if to make him smaller. His pupils dilated back to normal, and he looked like a kicked puppy.

“Look,” Kirishima muttered, “I know this looks bad, but–”

“You went easy on me!” Bakugou snarled.

“What?”

Bakugou readied himself into a fighting stance. “Fight me! Right now!”

“No! I could hurt you!”

“Please, you think my magic can’t take yours? I’m the best sorcerer in the all the-“

“It’s not my magic!”

Kirishima’s chest heaved. He hunched over, curling in his chest. He clamped his claws closed.

“It’s a curse,” he whispered, barely audible above the forest ambiance. “I... I’m a monster.”

Bakugou really couldn’t help it.

He snorted.

“No, you’re fucking not.”

“I am,” Kirishima insisted, nearly pouting.

“Look, I know monsters,” Bakugou said, and looked Kirishima up and down. “You ain’t it. Just ‘cuz you grow scales when you harness your magic, doesn’t mean-”

“It’s a curse.”

“You keep saying that,” Bakugou huffed, “but that doesn’t mean anything! Besides, who would–” He managed to stop himself before saying curse you, but he still considered it a fair point. He doubted Kirishima could go through a village and leave without charming every damn inhabitant.

“It’s a punishment,” Kirishima continued. He stared down at his hands and fiddled with his claws. “Years ago, one of the members of the Riot royal family killed a dragon for sport. Little did they know, the dragon was a young mother, and her babies were left to starve. The goddess Ryukuku was angered by this needless bloodshed, and cursed my bloodline. Once a generation, a Kirishima is born with a monstrous form, hideous to all those who look upon it.” He plucked a scale from his arm with a wince and offered it to Bakugou. “With crimson scales, red as blood, to remind us of our violent folly.”

Bakugou took the scale. It was heavier than he expected, and surprisingly warm. The dimming firelight shone through it, and cloaked his hand in red light. Hideous my ass, he thought.

“So... you can take me back to the tower now.” Kirishima said this with a completely straight face, like he was speaking some known truth into the universe.

“Heh?” Bakugou scoffed.

“I can’t become king, you have no reason to continue with me.”

“How does having badass dragon powers make you a worse king? If anything, it means you're destined for it or some shit!”

“Every Kirishima who ever was born with the affliction was sent away!” Kirishima barked back at him. There was a growl rattling in his chest as he stood and stalked toward Bakugou. “My family would have preferred their extinction to a Cursed taking the throne!”

“So you just wanna get rid of the curse?” Bakugou asked, “Fuck, why didn’t you say that?”

All at once, Kirishima’s eyes rounded into inquisitive pupils, and his tail flicked with interest. “You... You can do that?” He asked, quietly, as though speaking too loud would destroy its possibility.

“Psh, ‘course not.” Bakugou snorted, “But I know a witch who can.”

~~~

The further they went into the swamp, the more skepticism Bakugou could feel radiating off of Kirishima.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“The ‘best damn witch you’ve ever met’ lives out here?”

“Do you think I’d be out here otherwise?” Bakugou spat, fighting to pull his boot out of the muck. “They live just passed those trees. You can see the cabin if you look close enough.”

“Wait, they? Who–”

“BAKUGOU!”

“Oh fuck,” Bakugou muttered as the wind swirled through the trees and a pink blur shot from the door of the cabin. Kirishima began to growl, but Bakugou was flat on his back before his claws could even unsheath. A woman in a pink dress and matching witch’s hat was perched on his chest. She poked at him with her staff.

“Why did you wait so long to visit, asshole!” She shrieked.

“Because you always attack me, fucking shit!” Bakugou spat back. Kirishima’s eyes darted between the two of them. His pupils were slitted. Bakugou knew he was scanning with a predator’s eye for any sign of threat. He sighed.

“Ki–” Bakugou fumbled on the name but corrected himself, “Eijirou, this is Round Face, the witch I told you about.”

With a flourish, she floated off of him to stand in front of Kirishima. All the annoyance had left her face, only a brilliant smile remaining. She offered him a hand.

“He forgot to mention his best friend. I’m Ochako Uraraka!”

“Not my friend,” Bakugou grumbled and ducked with practiced timing as Uraraka swung her staff at his head. Kirishima was staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Come on Shitty Hair,” he grumbled, and grabbed Kirishima’s wrist. “Let’s go.” He began dragging him toward the house. The hold was awkward, so Bakugou slid his hand down, interlinking his fingers with Kirishima’s. Uraraka coughed, and when Bakugou looked at her, she smirked. He raised an eyebrow. She slowly looked down at their hands, then looked back up at him. Her smirk grew, and she made a kissy face. His cheeks flushed (with rage) and he had to actively fight to keep his explosions beneath his skin. He was about to scream about how it wasn’t like that, when a croaky voice called out from the door.

“Hello Bakugou, ribbit.”

Tsu looked exactly like Bakugou remembered, a tiny nixie woman with bulbous eyes and clammy skin patterned like a bullfrog. Her long hair was interwoven with blooming lily pads, and even from here, Bakugou could tell her dress was damp.

“Frog,” he grunted.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima gasped. He smacked Bakugou’s arm but Bakugou was more focused on the space where Kirishima’s hand used to be. His palm felt cold.

“Ribbit, that’s actually pretty nice for Bakugou,” Tsu informed him. “I’m Tsuyu Asui but you can call me Tsu. All my friends do.”

“Fr-friends?” Kirishima sputtered.

“As soon as I know your name.”

“Oh! I’m Eijirou! It’s nice to meet you! You have a very manly house!”

Tsu tilted her head at that, but thankfully didn’t ask.

“Thank you,” she replied graciously, and guided him inside.

“I can’t believe you fell in love with a himbo,” Uraraka muttered once they were out of earshot.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed back and stomped inside.

He could hear her cackling behind him.

The inside was messy as usual. The front door entered straight into Uraraka’s workshop. A cauldron was bubbling in the center of the room, bright stains from potion spills gathered at its base. Wall to wall, the shelves were filled with potion ingredients, everything from basic herbs to shit Bakugou was just hoping wasn’t alive. The air smelled like sour sugar and buzzed with magical potential. It made Bakugou’s nose itch.

“I’m going to make tea for our nice guest and Bakugou, ribbit,” Tsu said, placing a kiss on Uraraka’s cheek.

“Oi! I can be nice!”

“Do you want anything, Ochako?” Tsu continued talking as though no interruption had happened.

“Tea with extra honey please!”

“Don’t ignore me,” Bakugou bristled. Tsu left the room without a single glance in his direction. “Pink cheeks, I hope you’re ready to be a widow!”

“He likes that she stands up to him,” Uraraka faux-whispered, and Bakugou could hear Kirishima giggling, like the absolute fucking traitor he was.

“Shut up! We have a real problem to deal with!” Kirishima’s laughter faded with his harsh reminder and Bakugou felt like an asshole. What else is new? “Eijirou has a curse he needs to get rid of.”

Uraraka’s eyes narrowed. “Really? But he seems perfectly fine.”

Bakugou glanced at Kirishima, who sighed.

“It’s... Probably easier to show you? Let me just...” Kirishima moved to the center of the room, somewhere his wings and tail wouldn’t knock over any of the shelves. He transformed, and it wasn’t any less breathtaking now than it was the first. Uraraka gasped in awe and clapped her hands together.

“Incredible!” She said, eyes sparkling with the reflection of Kirishima’s scales. “I’ve never seen a spell like it!”

Kirishima’s tail drooped. “You haven’t?”

“Don’t look so glum!” She chided. “That just means I get to be the one to create a solution. I just need these...” She pulled approximately a dozen bottles off the shelves, then trotted over to Kirishima. “And a scale from you!”

“You are not ripping out one of my scales!” Kirishima hissed. His wings puffed up behind him, and Bakugou could hear him growling. “It hurts!”

“Okay, okay,” Uraraka acquiesced, “If you say so– Oh my goodness, is Bakugou smiling?” Kirishima’s head snapped towards Bakugou as Uraraka plucked a scale from Kirishima’s arm. He yelped, and turned to glare at her, but she had nimbly run back to her cauldron.

“Sorry,” she chirped, not sounding sorry at all, “But I need it for the spell.” As she opened a spell book on the table near the cauldron, the jars began levitating around, circling in a calculated, chaotic orbit, bouncing in time with her humming. Kirishima gaped at her, mouth so wide, Bakugou could easily glimpse his serrated teeth. He chuckled and reached over and shut Kirishima’s mouth.

“Save it for when she actually does something impressive,” he chuckled.

Uraraka made a little indignant huff, but didn’t argue. She knew as well as he did that this display was far from any sort of difficulty for her. As jars unscrewed, and pinches of herbs delicately stirred themselves into the brew, it changed colors. First red, then green, then brown, then, with one last shower of sparks from Uraraka herself, a serene clear, like that of untouched cave water. If Bakugou hadn’t seen the process himself, he would have thought the cauldron empty. The smell changed too, the sour-sugar smell fading into something more like rain.

“This is just a basic divination brew, useful for identifying types of magic,” Uraraka informed them. She held up the crimson scale she stole. “It’ll hopefully tell me what kind of curse was placed on you, and then we can go from there!”

She dropped the scale in with a plop. It dissolved with the ease of a snowflake. Bakugou braced himself for a loud bang or some kind of horrid fog but nothing happened. The potion maintained its perfect clarity.

For the first time that day, Uraraka frowned. “That’s... that’s impossible.

“What does it mean?” Kirishima asked, voice serrated with anxiety.

“That’s the thing, it doesn’t mean anything!” Uraraka frantically flipped through the spellbook, searching for anything she could have missed. “According to this, there’s no curse on you at all!”

“Dragon shifters tend to be resistant to most magic,” Tsu chimed in as she walked in from the kitchen. She was carrying a tray with four steaming mugs on it. “Perhaps whatever’s wrong with you isn’t a curse at all, ribbit.”

“Dragon shifter?” Uraraka repeated.

“What the fuck you talking about, swampbreath?”

Tsu cocked her hand at them. “That’s the kind of creature Eijirou is? I could smell it from the moment you walked up. ”

“N-No, I’m a human,” Kirishima stuttered. He was paling under his scales. Tsu shook her head.

“You have wings,” She said, like they were all idiots.

“It’s– it’s a curse,” Kirishima insisted. His hands were shaking. “That’s why they sent me away, it’s a punishment!”

Tsu’s expression stayed blank but a sharpness entered her eyes, a weight to her shoulders. Bakugou was suddenly reminded of the fact that nixies are fierce predators, Tsu included. He wondered if this is what she looked like when she was mad.

Tsu set the mugs down and walked forward to Kirishima. Despite the fact she had to look up at him, he seemed so much smaller than her. Perhaps it was the way his tail curled between his legs, as if he feared the woman in front of him and what she had to say.

“Do you know how dragon shifters come about?” She asked softly. The question clearly threw Kirishima off guard, startling an answer out of him.

“No?”

“Mm,” she hummed, and took a moment to speak. The room was still with her thoughts, populated only by the crackle of the fire under the cauldron and Uraraka’s nervous breaths.

“When a dragon falls in love, dedicated, everlasting love, with a human or an elf or nixie, any humanoid creature, their magic changes them, giving them a form suited for their partner. Children of these pairings are able to manifest dragon features, a trait of the bloodline their ancestor forsook in the pursuit of love.” Tsu reached forward, hands slower than a melting glacier. She took Kirishima’s scaled hands in her own and squeezed them fiercely. “It’s not a punishment at all, Eijirou.” Her words were nearly pleading. “It’s a gift.”

“So... It’s not fixable?” Kirishima panted. His eyes were wide, sweat dripped down his brow. He looked to be moments away from bolting. At his question, Tsu’s blank expression softened. Bakugou would nearly call the look fond.

“No. Because there is nothing wrong with you.”

Kirishima ran for the door. The vials of potions and ingredients clattered with the force of his steps. He floundered with the doorknob, claws unable to get a good grip. He flung the door open and nearly tripped down the stairs. Wings sprung from his back and he took off into the sky.

Without a second thought, Bakugou ran after him.

~~~

The sun had nearly set when Bakugou finally found Kirishima. He was curled up at the base of a tree, wings wrapped around his body. The only way Bakugou knew it was Kirishima and not some other flying beast was the blindingly red spikes of hair poking up. Bakugou dashed forward, sliding on his knees to Kirishima’s side.

“What the hell were you thinking! Someone could have seen you, I thought you wanted–”

“Bakugou,” Kirishima interrupted. He lifted his face and gone was any trace of the smile Bakugou had become so familiar with. His voice was level as a river stone. “Where are my people?”

“Wha-”

“The people of Riot. Where are they?”

Bakugou hummed. “The Riotans had to flee the kingdom after Shigaraki took over... most of them are refugees, living in camps on the borders of Yuuei and Endeavor. Enji’s been trying to clear most of them out though. Arrests any ‘freeloaders’ he finds.” Bakugou couldn’t help the snarl in his voice. The entire practice was despicable.

“So they’re alone, in a new place, because of something that wasn’t their fault?”

Kirishima’s red eyes gazed into Bakugou. His gaze felt endless. Goosebumps danced down Bakugou’s spine. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded.

“Mm,” Kirishima murmured, “I get that.” He nodded, and Bakugou watched his dragon features retract. He stood.

“I’ll do it.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll do it,” Kirishima repeated, stronger, more sure of himself. “I’ll become king.” He set his jaw and squared his shoulders. The setting sun painted him in deep golds, igniting the reds of his hair and eyes. His ragged clothes were like gilded silks, gilting in the fading light. He was a gilded statue, a testament to the kings of old, set in the courtyard to inspire future generations. Bakugou felt his jaw drop. He was breathtaking.

And then he did something Bakugou wouldn’t have expected if the gods themselves had warned him.

Kirishima reached out his hand.

“Come with me.”

Bakugou exhaled, either as a gasp or his lungs restarting. “What?”

“I may be the prince but... I don’t know anything about running a country. I need you.”

“No, you don’t.”

The words came out sharper than he intended. He knew his face was twisted into a snarl, that sparks were shooting from his palms as if in anger, but... Bad habits were hard to break. Kirishima flinched back at the outburst. Good, better he knows now.

“I’m not a good person,” Bakugou cackled, “I’m...” He scrunched his eyes shut, unable to look at Kirishima any longer.

He knew. He knew what he was and what others saw in him.

He saw it in the disappointed look in Aizawa’s eyes after he went too far during a spar.

He felt it in the way Deku trembled when his palms exploded, even when the blasts weren’t directed at him.

He heard it from his mother, when she hissed it in his ear when he developed his magic.

“I’m a monster.”

Kirishima didn’t answer, in fact he didn’t say anything. Bakugou still didn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t bear the thought of watching Kirishima walking away. So he’ll admit he jumped a bit when he felt hands on his cheeks. The claws were gentler than he ever thought possible as they dipped under his eyes and wiped away tears Bakugou hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“Bakugou.” His voice was soft and sure as a mossy stone, “You’re not a monster.” Bakugou was certain that if he opened his eyes, Kirishima would be staring at him with gentle, trusting eyes, which was even worse than not looking at him at all.

“You, you don’t know,” Bakugou argued. His voice cracked, and it pissed him off. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Look at me.”

Bakugou was quickly learning that he couldn’t deny Kirishima anything.

He opened his eyes. He was right, Kirishima was unguarded and beautiful. It made his stomach churn.

“Do remember when you asked why I never left the tower?” Kirishima asked, and the question caught Bakugou off guard.

“Yeah? What does that have to do with-”

“I lied,” Kirishima barrelled over his question. “I tried to leave. I wanted to, so fucking badly. For years, I did everything I could think of to try and get out but...” Kirishima claws clicked against his scales with nervous tension. “My parents... They had a sorcerer cast a spell over the tower. ‘The prince born of beast will not leave this tower, unless under the will of a good man’s power.’ They thought it was foolproof, because no good man would ever set a monster loose in the world.”

Bakugou sucked in a breath.

“I was only able to go beyond the boundaries of the spell because you pulled me past it.”

“That’s... They fucked up the spell then, I’m not–”

“People tried in the past.”

Bakugou shook his head. The world was spinning.

“A nurse who wanted to hold me captive, bandits who attempted to drag me away, a man... I don’t know what he wanted, but I bounced back the second he got me to the edge of the spell. Every person with ill-intentions who tried to take me with them, found themselves blocked by an invisible wall. So imagine my surprise when you managed to wrestle me out of my prison.” He ran a hand through Bakugou’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “That’s why I agreed to go with you.”

Bakugou tried to answer, but his mouth just opened and closed twice.

“Bakugou, you told me I wasn’t a monster. I don’t think you’re one either.” The hands cupping his face tightened, as though he feared Bakugou would fall through his grasp like sand. The look on his face was akin to that of a man dying of thirst watching water be poured on the ground. Pure, earnest desperation.

“So I’ll ask you again. Will you come with me?”

Bakugou answered Kirishima by pulling him into a kiss.

Because, goddammit, he’d follow this idiot anywhere.

#kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #fantasy au #tsuchako #tsuyu asui #uraraka ochako #tw parental neglect #tw emotional neglect #everyone's parents suck #kiribaku big bang #my writing #my fanfic #my bnha fanfic

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