#opposed to katsuki's one reverent izuku

[brewstersbru]

Another bkdk after the leaks so,,, SPOILERS 🧨🥦 boys need to talk

Part of Katsuki wishes he’d stayed dead. At least, then, he wouldn’t have to watch Izuku struggle through losing a quirk he had worked so goddamn hard to master. That still had so much potential.

And, well, he’s a little tired. He’d done something good. Helpful. Kept Shigaraki’s attention away from the others for a bit. Bought some time.

He did what he could, and it wasn’t enough, and he’d made his peace with that. Dying for Izuku was infinitely easier than living like this. Weak, and injured, and liable to cry at any moment, or stray word.

Izuku needs Katsuki to be strong, and Katsuki is failing him.

There are embers. There’s a spark, a possibility, but Izuku isn’t letting himself hope. Katsuki wishes he would, that he’d stop looking so goddamned sad all the time. His eyes were meant to shine.

The hope is heavy, and it hurts a little, but Katsuki has done much worse for Izuku. To Izuku. So he holds it for him, until he’s ready to pick it up himself. He asks about the embers often, little nudges to remind him that it’s not over, yet. Not if he doesn’t let it be.

Izuku tolerates it, the first few times, but he gets snappy after a while, defensive. Katsuki recognizes himself in it, and wonders when they’d started acting so much like each other. But he keeps on because Izuku had never given up on him, not through years of his terrible attitude. He can do this, at least. At the bare fucking minimum.

His arm heals, slowly, but it still hurts when it rains; his chest, too. No one lets him participate in clean-up or relief efforts until he gets an OK from the doctor. Izuku drifts into himself, pulling back from the class, talking less. Katsuki can only watch as he isolates himself, prepares to leave because he can only believe in a sure thing, not measly embers. Katsuki gets it. Getting his hopes up for nothing would break him. But it seems like he’s already breaking, anyway.

Katsuki has quieted, too, but for medical reasons. Although, after the initial shock, he’s found he likes how his classmates treat him for it. They’re tactful, don’t try to rile him. The anger is still there, but it simmers, and most of it is for himself. Whys and what-ifs, internal beratements for not being man enough to actually talk to Izuku, when the other boy had given so much of himself to make Katsuki good. When he’d saved the fucking world.

Part of him is annoyed at Izuku’s refusal to want something for himself, too busy jumping around to help with relief efforts, clinging to the vestiges of a world he’s already counted himself out of. Makes him grind his teeth at night, ‘til his jaw’s sore.

Everything comes to a head—not on the battlefield, not standing opposite one another in a dying city—in the kitchen. Katsuki wanders in, thinking of the ingredients on his shelf, what he could make from them in bulk enough to feed the leeches, and finds Izuku staring up at a jar just slightly out of reach.

Before Katsuki can speak up, offer to grab it for him while dodging accusations of pity—God, is this what he was like?—Izuku bends his knees, once, twice, and jumps. In a fluid set of movements, the jar is snatched off the shelf and he lands, cat-like, on his feet.

Fa Jin. That had looked exactly like Fa Jin, and Katsuki swears there was something green and crackling around his ankles. He almost wants to laugh- how does Izuku not see it? Instead, he asks, “That was the embers, wasn’t it?”

Izuku startles, but nothing more than a slight flinch of his shoulders acknowledges Katsuki’s presence.

“I told you to stop with that.” He says, voice low. Katsuki shrugs and steps further into the room, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Just telling it like I see it. That looked like Fa Jin.”

Izuku snarls and whirls on him.

“Do you like rubbing it in? Fuck, Bakugo, I thought we were past this.”

‘Bakugo’ hurts. Stings and aches somewhere shallow, close to the surface. But he deserves it. Deserves more than that, really, so he takes it on the chin and lets it roll through him. Katsuki averts his eyes.

“I’m not trying to rub anything in, Izuku. Just wish you’d stop taking this shit lying down. There’s a chance. What happened to the Izuku who only needed that much? Who’d reach out and dig his nails into any scrap of a something?” His voice cracks halfway through. Izuku smiles, but there’s no joy in the expression.

“I don’t know what you want from me. ‘That Izuku’ went to war. He couldn’t save anyone. Maybe he’s realizing he’s not cut out for this.”

Katsuki sneers.

“Cut the shit. You’re scared, I get it, but don’t you ever tell me you don’t want to be a hero. Don’t fucking lie.”

“They’re embers! Just embers!” Izuku laughs, a little hysterically. “I can’t be a hero with a dying quirk.”

He’s tugging at his hair, curling in on himself in a way Katsuki hasn’t seen in years. He hates the look of it on him. Wishes he wasn’t the one making him do it, again. It’s necessary, he tells himself, he needs to hear this. Doesn’t make doing it feel any better.

“Embers become flames if you fan them, if you coax them back. You can still be a hero, you just need to start believing that. Stop stifling yourself!” Katsuki takes a deep, watery breath, stepping forward and clutching at his chest, as if that will push the emotions bubbling up back inside. Stupid tear-ducts, it’s like they’re on a hair-trigger these days. At least with Izuku.

“Stop giving up!” He gasps, gritting his teeth to try and stop himself from crying. It’s pointless, trickles of warmth carve their way down his cheeks, thin and slow.

“Fuck.” He mutters to himself, swiping at his eyes and turning his head. Izuku needs to focus on himself right now, not another pathetic mess of tears.

“Kac-Katsuki.” Izuku stumbles, shell-shocked by the sudden shift. This is exactly what Katsuki didn’t want.

“Fuck off.” He says. “Just- just think about it.”

And without even attempting to check his shelf or start preparing dinner—it can wait an hour or two, until he’s calmed down, until Izuku’s left—he turns to leave the room. They’re not getting anywhere. He’s said what he needs to say and it’s up to Izuku whether or not he’ll listen. As much as he fucking hates it, he can’t do more than that. He’s never been good with words, anyway.

 Just as he makes it to the doorway, something tugs on his wrist. Too thin to be fingers, more like a rope, but not nearly coarse enough for that, either. It’s familiar, very familiar, but he- that can’t be right. He stops in his tracks.

“Kacchan.” Izuku’s breathless voice sounds from behind him, all previous frustration gone from it. Katsuki furrows his brows and turns his head, slightly, enough to see behind him from the corner of his eye.

Izuku is standing a few feet away, hand outstretched towards him. A thin, black ribbon protrudes from his palm, extending to where it’s wrapped tight around Katsuki’s wrist. Blackwhip. It’s the first true sign that Izuku’s quirk is not all lost. They both stare at the line connecting them, but Katsuki’s gaze quickly wanders. He already knew Izuku was capable of this. He looks into the other boy’s eyes, searching for that spark, and he is not disappointed.

A tiny, glinting shine has come back to his irises, highlighting the green ever so slightly into a bright, clear happiness.

“What’d I tell you, nerd.” Katsuki says, just the slightest bit fond. He presses his fingers to the tendril still curled around his wrist. Izuku’s gaze snaps up to him and he grins. Before Katsuki can ask what the look on his face is about, Izuku thrusts his other hand forward and another tendril unfurls, drifting towards Katsuki and wrapping around his waist.  

Izuku then pulls both hands toward himself, hurtling Katsuki towards him at speeds the blond hasn’t felt in far too long. He can’t help the smile creeping onto his lips.

“Thank you.” Izuku whispers, wrapping Katsuki in his arms as soon as he’s in range. Katsuki has to scoff.

“I didn’t do anything.”  

Izuku just squeezes tighter. “I couldn’t do this without you. I don’t know what I’d do if- if I ever had to.”

Now that’s just not at all what they were talking about. Something hot and wriggling awakens in Katsuki’s stomach.

“Fuck off.” Then, taking courage from the fact that he doesn’t have to look in Izuku’s eyes as he says this, “And- I- you did save me. Way before I. Y’know.” It’s choppy, near incomprehensible, but Izuku understands. Before he died.

Something warm and wet drips onto Katsuki’s shoulder. Fucking finally. The crybaby needs it. It’s not platitudes, and Izuku knows better than to accuse Katsuki of something like that. Katsuki only says exactly what he means. And it seemed like Izuku needed to hear it.

Can’t go around thinking every goddamn thing is his fault when it isn’t.

Finally, after a few minutes of unsettlingly quiet crying, Izuku speaks.

“Still. You died because of me. I can’t forget that. It’s the second time you’ve put your life on the line for my sake and I can’t- I don’t think I could handle a third.”

His voice is slow, careful around the words as if he’s thought through them a million times. Katsuki sighs, closing his eyes.

“I’d do it again. Will do it again, if I need to. I’m not going to apologize for that, and I’m not going to promise not to.”

Izuku pulls away, brows furrowed as he steps back to look at Katsuki.

“You can’t just throw your life away-“

“It’s not throwing it away if I’m stepping in for a purpose, shithead.”

Still, Izuku shakes his head.

“It is! I don’t care what you’ve told yourself to justify it, I don’t want you to do that anymore. It scares me.”

Emotions keep bobbing up and down in Katsuki’s chest, like buoys in a storm. He scratches at his elbow, unable to meet Izuku’s eyes. They weren’t here to talk about him. They should be celebrating Izuku’s breakthrough, not wasting time with this.

“Izuku, I told you- it’s fine. It’s my life. I choose what I do with it.”

“But that’s just it, it’s my life, too, shouldn’t I get a say in what happens?”

Katsuki grinds his teeth against each other. Now that he’s not shrouded in gloom, Izuku’s back to being just as stubborn and insufferable as ever.

“That’s not the same. Idiot. You’re going to be the next ‘symbol of peace’ or whatever. Fuckton of potential.”

Izuku tilts his head. “What, and you don’t have potential?”

Katsuki looks away.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re joking. Kacchan-“

“I’m injured. It’ll only get worse with time, Izuku. And my quirk can only do so much. Shigaraki was able to kill me because I wasn’t strong enough. If I keep going like this, I won’t be able to get much stronger before I bite it. Might as well use what I’ve got to do something. Make up for the bullshit. I had a lot of time to think, after our talk in the hospital. I’ve made my peace with a life like that. I think it’s a worthwhile goal, keeping you alive.”

Izuku isn’t speaking, but a new wave of tears has started streaming down his face as he shakes his head, frantically. See, this is what Katsuki was trying to avoid. He only looks like that because Katsuki had opened his big fat mouth and ruined the moment. Fuck. He cringes at himself and is gearing up to switch the conversation to something less catastrophic when Izuku speaks.

“Shut up.” He says, voice ragged. “God, shut up. What happened to being the strongest?” When Katsuki doesn’t answer, he continues, nearly snarling. “You want to make up for your shit? Stay alive, then, asshole. Fuck.” He scrubs at his cheeks, muttering to himself. “Right after I fucking told you I couldn’t live without you?”

Katsuki doesn’t think he’s seen Izuku curse like this, well, ever. Maybe he’s rubbing off on him? All he can do is stare, dumbstruck, trying to parse through the words. It’s not like- he isn’t trying to die, it’s just that if it came down to it, and it was his life or Izuku’s, the choice would be easy, he’d make it in an instant.  

Katsuki scrubs a hand through his hair. “Okay. Alright, let’s drop this-“

But Izuku isn’t having it. “Promise me.”

“I’ll- fucking- do my best.” Is all Katsuki can manage. Izuku watches him for another minute, dubious, before accepting that’s the best he’s going to get.

With a disbelieving laugh, Katsuki straightens, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes.

“Shit. We weren’t supposed to get into all this at once. Just wanted you to get your spine back.”

There’s a warmth against the back of his neck as Izuku pulls him in for another hug. He can’t find it in himself to protest. It’s just the two of them, and he kind of likes it.  

“Thank you, Kacchan.”

The thanks curdles in Katsuki’s gut, unearned and unwanted.

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m enlisting you to help with dinner, now. Since you’re already here.”

Izuku laughs and it feels like fireworks against Katsuki’s ear. He’s missed that sound.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

SLEEPING HABITS

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon, noncon, yandere, abuse, profanity, anxiety, arson, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

Bakugo respects sleep to the point of obsession. Always in bed before eight thirty, and though the thought of railing his little darling into the mattress is always a tempting thought, a long day of hero-work almost always calls for cuddles and sleep and nothing more and nothing less. He’s just so tired once he comes home, all sweaty and coated in smog with only one petite little gorgeous thing on his mind. He scarcely takes a shower before heading to bed, coming in through the door, grabbing his little darling wherever she is, whatever she’s doing going to waste or having to wait until the morning again, because there’s no chance in either heaven or hell she’s escaping what lock she’s been secured in under Bakugo’s arms, making quick work of shedding all clothes and brushing his teeth harshly in bare-minimum war-like effort, before scooping her up in his arms and collapsing in the bed with a bounce and a much needed groan.

He’ll have her on her side, spooning her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs, his heavy heartbeats crashing and wreaking havoc through her ribs, hand harshly gripping onto her hip, pushing her ass firmly against his crotch, hissing each time she makes a move. This is how it always goes, every night, no exceptions. She’ll always be locked and pushed to his chest, guarding her as though he’s a dragon protecting his treasure. His breaths wafting close to her ear, those heavy growling huffs making her heart catch in her throat. He’ll breath in the scent of her hair, loving how flowery and serene her scent is as opposed to the smell of smoke and caramel. Finding it a perfect aroma to fall asleep to, pleasant dreams conjured by the associations it provides.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

Dabi can’t go to sleep without some sugar. But he too can come home tired after having over-exerted himself with the use of his blue flames, therefor sex isn’t always in the deck of cards for his darling once he comes home. Though, if she thinks she’s off the hook, she’s mistaken, there will be no sleep until he’s satisfied. He’s a selfish asshole about it too, pulling her up and his chest, hands cradling her ass, pinching the soft plump flesh as he makes her grind on him, his tongue and teeth coming to mark-up that pretty soft neck of hers, her soft timid whimpers enough to make him groan, wild energy surging through his loins, perhaps enough to persuade him in ripping those little panties off her anyways.

Afterwards he’ll be lying on his back, having her lie halfway on his chest. One hand stroking with slender fingers up and down her sides, loving how her goosebumps never fail in greeting him. On those days he wants more contact, he’ll swing her leg up over his torso, hand holding onto her ass-cheek, pulling her some further onto his chest. His heart fluttering in gratification as her small hands come to trace his itching aching scars, those careful curious blossom-tipped fingertips dancing over his marred skin, goosebumps of his own flushing the surface in reverence. His spine shivering as he falls ever so softly into sweet-dream sleep.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

Tomura’s sleep habit is sporadic, but despite being tired, his boyish horniness always outweighs his need for sleep. Actually, he finds he sleeps even better after having pumped what frustration the day had given him into his poor little darling. Having her jump up and down the length of his cock, or humping her silly into the mattress. However, he always prepares her first, loving to feel her quivering little thighs locked and spread with his face buried in what sweetness found between them, gorging himself in exploring what places has his darling going cross-eyed. His hungry-hearted curiosity making quick work of finding out which way to curl and scissor his fingers when burying his digits knuckle-deep inside her, feeling her spongy walls clench and flutter about him until her juices drip shamefully down his hand, a cocky smile stretched upon his face as he kisses her stomach. Her prepared slicked-up wet and velvety walls so eager to suck in his cock, the fluttering feel of her walls kissing his girth enough to have his toes cramping and eyes going wild.

He’ll be exhausted afterwards, and clingy, cradling her chest like a toddler. His face using her chest like a pillow, hand squeezing and tweaking at her nipple as though it were some plushie for him to drool over. His foot coming to cuddle and snake with hers until he feels perfectly comfortable. Snores quickly following suit as well as a satiated blissful smile stretched upon his face.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Nothing can help Hitoshi’s darling from doing whatever he wants, however he wants it, whenever he wants it. No amount of groveling, begging, pleading, crying, screaming will stop him. And, although he comes home multiple times throughout the day, having subjugated his darling to his will again and again for several hours on end, sex is still mandatory before she’s allowed to sleep. He’ll laugh as he clutches her mind in a choke-hold, having her focus on every single little movement he makes, making her tremble upon every feather-light touch he bestows upon her, watching her eyes wrench shut upon every vein and bump and ridge as he pinches her clit between his callous fingers, watching as she loses count of how many times he’s made her cum in the span of the mere last hour.

He’ll be a real cocky, manipulative, degrading asshole during their entire play-session, but when it comes to cuddles he’ll wipe the shit-eating grin off his face and kiss her temple softly, stroking and petting her hair as he whispers sweet little nothings into her ear. Still a smidge of cockiness evident in his otherwise awe-struck tone. Limbs flung over and under each other, thoroughly entangled in an intricate and comfortable knot, coated with sweat. He’ll release whatever hold he had on her mind once their done, happy to see her comfort herself in his chest, soft sighs sounding from her small frame, in contrast to watching her pathetically try and snake her way from out of his hold.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Poor darling. She’s lucky she can still stand on some days throughout the week. Praying, wishing and screaming at whomever might be listening, whomever might be in charge of her fate other than Keigo has become like ritual before going to bed. Her prayers are never answered though. It’s a cruel joke, a game, a satire, some form of heaven yet some form of hell. How he comes to her in the shape of an angel, similar to the ones she’s been praying to, only he answers her prayers in whichever way he wants. He’ll have her for hours on end in prayer stance, kneeling, clinging to him as though he were a life-line. He’ll have her slipping in and out of consciousness, with his almighty hands guiding her every movement where she’s grown too tired to do as much as lift a finger in protest, where all that leaves her mouth are cute incomprehensible sounds.

But even he gets exhausted after a while, after a long, long while of snapping his hips forward, jutting into his poor little baby-bird. Sometimes, if he still has the energy, he’ll lay them both in the bath, message whatever strain gathered in her shoulders away, have her melt against him, but on most days: he’ll simply wrap both his wings around her sweat-slicked glowing dewy body, inhale the sweet scent of their love and nuzzle into her neck, whisper small cooing praises and adorations, holding onto her as though she’s absolution, drifting off to sleep while feeling the spontaneous remnants of himself spasm and jolt through her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku uses everything with purpose, as a lesson, as a reminder, as a threat, as a weapon. Sex is no exception. Does his little darling not understand her place, he’ll gladly teach her. Does his little darling forget who she belongs to, he’ll gladly remind her. Does his little darling think she can leave, does she think she can survive on her own, does she really think she’ll breath better without him? She’ll soon be preaching otherwise while clamping down around the girth of his cock, with his swollen cockhead kissing her cervix each time he pushes into her. He’ll have her screaming, crying, begging for forgiveness, and being the forgiving hero that he is, he’ll allow her rest if she tells him one more time what she’s done wrong and make him believe that she’ll never do something like it ever again through promise upon promise upon tearful promise.

He’ll allow her rest when he’s convinced she’s learned her lesson, where after he’ll always draw a bath before sleeping, carrying her to the water and letting her soak while he changes the bedsheets. He’ll be sweet then, still stern and domineering and intimidating, but refraining from being harsh and brute and cruel. He’ll have her lying on his chest every night, legs secured between his, large hands propping her into position if she slides off or tries shifting, having her ask for permission to leave the bed to do simple things such as using the bathroom. His hand running through her hair, large enough to capture her entire skull in his palm, enough to make her fear sleeping yet enough to make her feel lonely when she wakes up without him.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

On days where Kai is content, or at least something akin to the feeling, all he wants is to cherish sweet moments with his darling. Soft-tinted cuddles in bed where silence is a type of peace that makes his soul feel light like dandelion-fluff. But, days where the hours has spared Kai of the worlds ugliness, sickness and depravity are few and far between. Meaning, it’s not often he comes home content. And when he’s aggravated, when everything feels sporadic and irate and static and like pure and utter chaos, there’s only one thing that can make him feel collected again, like he’s in charge, in control, and that’s having his little darling beneath him with his cock tearing through her, it’s seeing those gorgeous watery eyes look up at him through a thick veil of plead, it’s having her innocence wrapped around his fingers.

It’s soothing, though it looks like punishment, though it looks like torture, it’s the only way he can find peace. Afterwards, lying face to face, tangled together, limbs an artwork of intense and passionate knotwork, his shallow breaths turning to long-felt satisfied inhales and exhales. Feeling the cleanliness of her trembling flesh beneath his fingertips, having her small breakable defenseless body tight against his, the drums of her heartbeats dancing against the thunder-claps residing in his own chest, droplets of tears hanging off her eyelashes as her gem-like orbs look up at him, his hand on her waist. It’s reassuring knowing that perfection still exists in a world devoid of order.

TODORKI SHOTO

Shoto would play all day everyday if he could, but he can’t, which makes the pressure on those hours in which he can play that much more crucially vital. Yet, knowing what’s to come doesn’t mean his darling ever knows what to expect when the night conquers the sky. She’ll be counting the seconds until she hears the front-door unlock, the click sending gunshots to ricochet through her ribs. She’ll hear his booted footsteps on the stone-floors, notice her breathing turning grim and shallow, feeling the beating pitter pattering of her heart in her head, and then she’ll feel him outside the conjuring of her own fears, she’ll feel his slender petal-veined finger gliding up her leg or shoulder, tangling in her hair, his firm lips pressing softly against her forehead, her crippling fear and the rushing of blood boiling past her ears rendering all sounds incomprehensible.

Her mind knows what to expect, what to dread, what to prepare for, but her body never seems to learn. He’ll bite, he’ll claw, he’ll strangle, long digits curling and scissoring in places too deep for her to ever even dream of reaching. Cold then hot then cold and hot or hot and cold or frostbitten and boiling. She always falls asleep with a fever. Cradled and comforted in the same arms that caused her unraveling, her eyes opium-blown as she stares blankly up at him, falling deeper and drowning in chromatic galaxies. Her whole body cold and sweat-slicked and breathless and overwhelmed with Shoto’s inescapable embrace, whether she’s lying beneath him or on top of him or curled up against his chest, she’s not allowed to breath her own air when with him.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[kacchanrawr]

To Break a Vow

When Bakugo Katsuki was a child, he vowed to make Midoriya Izuku happy. Everything he did, all the blood, sweat and tears he had to endure until now, was all to create a peaceful world for the person he loved the most.

But love, for Izuku, had never spelt anything but doom. He was a symbol to be revered, not meant to be touched. He was a cruel sun, one that burned anyone that got too close.

Katsuki knew that, yet he still tried. He showered him with love and affection, offering his whole heart. It was all in vain, however, especially now that he had to break that vow without it ever being fulfilled.

Fists collided, the world around them burned to ashes. Their eyes stayed on each other, shining amidst the darkness around them. Sparks flew brighter than anyone has ever seen before. This was the battle for the fate of the world, after all. The curtain will finally be drawn on the thousand year battle the generations before them had started.

"I knew you couldn't love me." Crimson eyes bore into him. He wiped his face, as if he were trying to clean the soot and dirt out, but they both knew he was trying to hide tears. "At least not in the way I love you."

Katsuki had him pinned down. With a hand occupied with his tears, his grip was loose, barely even holding him there. Even so, Izuku couldn't push him away. "I'm sorry." He reached a hand out, cupping the blonde's tearstained cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't be that person for you."

Duty before love. He was the opposing side of the battle, before his friend. A symbol to the masses, before his own person. He had long chosen the wellfare of the people over his own happiness.

"I wanted to make you happy." Katsuki's hand trembled as he held a sword above Izuku's chest. His knuckles had turned white, he couldn't move. "I wanted to make us happy."

Seeing his hesitation, Izuku's hand grabbed the blade. "It's okay if it's you, Kacchan." His other hand wrapped around Katsuki's. "Nothing will make me happier than the war ending with your hands."

Together, they plunged the sword into his heart.

To Izuku, his happiness was the welfare of all those around him, not his own. Katsuki wanted to show him his own happiness, a happiness together with him. But alas, the only happiness he had ever felt up to his dying breath was a selfless one. He'd rather die as a symbol and end the cycle of war for all, than stay in their normal. A normal where they could be together, even if it had to be in secret rendezvous.

Katsuki pulled the bloodstained sword out of his chest. He soared into the sky, letting the wind blow his tears away. "The Devil has been slain!" His voice thundered across the battlefield. His feathery white wings stretched out, the sun shining on his back. He pointed the sword to the path of hell. "Drive his wretched demons back to Tartarus, my warriors!"

He saw a subordinate of Izuku's cradle his body as they retreated back to their home. He vaguely remembered calling his troops back as he watched the emptying battlefield, the settling peace, the product that had brought Izuku happiness.

But did it really? Katsuki laughed emptily.

Maybe in another time, in another world, or in another universe, they can stand on the same side. Katsuki would carry Izuku's selfless burdens alongside him, and maybe then Izuku can see his own happiness.