#that might play to my advantage as I am familiar with twitter or x or whatever

[bastardsunlight]

//oh sacred feth this place is like twitter

[bilgesnipebitch]

BkDk Flower Exchange

Title: Humility

Author: @bilgesnipebitch

Ship: Katsuki Bakugou x Izuku Midoriya (aged up pro heroes)

Prompt: Hydrangea (symbolizes pride and apology)

Warnings: male x male, kinda angst and fluff?, a bit of swearing, some injury and fighting at the beginning

Giftee: Dukes (bakudekudukes on twitter)

Word Count: 2,152

Hope you like it, Dukes!! And thank you @bakudekuflowerexchange for hosting this great event!

He let out a cry of pain that rang through the heavy night air. It made my stomach churn, but I just couldn’t leave. I had to hold the front line. I had to keep them from reaching the warehouse. I had to trust Deku. A loud crack soon followed, and I dreaded all the possibilities of what it could have been. I gritted my teeth, resolve wearing thin.

Trust Deku. It’s alright. He can take care of himself.

Another heart-wrenching scream.

That’s it, I can’t take it anymore.

I ran as fast as I could into the rickety old building, ignoring the protests and cries of the other heroes still holding the front line.

“Deku!” I cried, examining the scene before me.

There he stood, toe to toe with the villain, a bit worse for the wear, but determined as ever.

“Kacchan! What on earth are you doing?” he cried.

The villain took advantage of Izuku’s distractedness and knocked him back a good few feet.

“I’m here to help you, dumbass!” I entered the fray, standing between Izuku and the giant, grotesque thing that could hardly be called a person at this point.

“I told you I can take care of this myself! Why aren’t you helping the others?”

I opened my mouth to answer when I suddenly found myself flung sideways into the far wall of the building. My heart immediately dropped into my stomach as I realized whatever it was came from outside the warehouse’s open doors.

Shit. The villains got through.

“Master, it’s time to go!” one of the villains held out a hand to the beast of a man, and before we could make sense of what was happening, the entire legion was gone. Every last person.

“Damn it, Ground Zero!” I heard a hero cry from outside.

He stomped toward me, fury burning in his eyes, and favoring a limp, bloodied arm.

I heaved myself onto my feet, ready to give this man a piece of my mind, when Izuku wedged himself between us, “Listen, I’m really sorry, but–”

“No, you’ve made enough excuses for Ground Zero,” the hero pushed Izuku aside, eyes still fixed with mine. “But this is the final straw. We won’t tolerate this kind of behavior anymore, newbie.”

I clenched my fists so hard they must have gone white, desperately resisting the urge to punch this loser’s nose in.

“Oh yeah? And–” Izuku quickly clasped his hand over my mouth and looked up at me with those big sad eyes, silently begging me not to get myself in any more trouble.

I finally relented, ripping his hand off me and walking away with a scoff.

We eventually got back to the agency and took off all our gear, showered, etc. Izuku might not have shown it in front of the other heroes, but I could tell he was not at all pleased with me either. It was strange and honestly heartbreaking to see him acting so coldly. We were walking to the train station together when I finally decided to speak up about the incident.

“So, that warehouse...”

“Not now, Kacchan.”

My heart writhed in my chest, and I didn’t dare speak about it again the rest of the train ride home.

At the apartment, we both went through our usual nightly routines in complete silence, and every second of it weighed my heart down until I could’ve sworn I could feel it beating away in the soles of my feet.

“Deku, just say something damn it!” I snapped at the green-haired man, who only looked at me with a vague sense of disappointment.

“What is there to say?”

“I– I don’t know. Anything. Are you seriously still mad about the warehouse?”

Izuku scoffed and shook his head, “I can’t believe you.”

I blinked at him and knitted my brows, “so you are?”

“Yes, Katsuki! I’m still mad about the warehouse!”

Katsuki. I hadn’t heard him use that name in––well––since we were little kids. My heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces right then and there.

“But you needed my help. You’re lucky I intervened, or–”

“No I didn’t! I was perfectly fine without you!” I had never imagined just how disarming Izuku raising his voice could be.

“You abandoned the other heroes holding back the villains from the warehouse! We needed their leader alive! You knew that if the one with a teleportation quirk got a hold of their leader, we would all be done for! But you just couldn’t see over that huge ego of yours, huh? You always have to play the knight in shining armor and save the day!”

“I–”

“You what? Ran out of excuses? God, you’re so frustrating sometimes!”

“Deku, listen–” I growled.

“Don’t you ‘Deku’ me, I stand up for you every single time you let your massive ego take control because I know you’re a good person deep down, and I know you can change, but honestly, I don’t know what to do with you anymore! If you keep this up, they’re going to kick us both out of the agency!”

I opened my mouth, but not a single word that ran through my head seemed to be right.

“You know what, I’m going to bed. You can tell me your excuse in the morning,” Izuku sighed and walked off into the bedroom.

I could hardly believe what had just happened, but the more I dwelled on it, the more I felt my eyes begin to well up painfully.

Without another word, I stormed out the door, furiously wiping at my eyes. I could feel all the anger and pain inside of me, swirling and melding and starting to froth up into an all-too-familiar rage.

“I was helping him. He could’ve been killed without me there. It’s not my fault those other heroes couldn’t hold the villains back,” I muttered.

But then that miserable little voice in the back of my mind came rearing its ugly head like it always does.

You didn’t help at all. The mission failed all because of you. You’re pathetic. Worthless.

“No I’m not,” I growled under my breath.

Yes you are. And even your own boyfriend hates you now. Maybe it would be better if you just–

“SHUT UP,” I howled and let out an involuntary explosion from my palm.

I heard one of our neighbors cautiously peek out his door behind me, but I didn’t bother looking. I just hurried down the stairs and out of the building, hoping a little fresh air would help me clear my thoughts. The night sky was pale, though I couldn’t see whether the sun was peeking over the horizon quite yet. It had been a long night, that’s for sure, though strangely enough, I didn’t feel tired at all. Frustrated, yes. Heartbroken? Absolutely. It was probably just all the adrenaline in my system.

I trudged along the empty street, hands buried deep in my pockets, when I heard some shuffling and a delicate ringing up ahead. Looking up from the dreary pavement, my eyes found a vibrant medley of colors and a small, silver-haired woman crouched and arranging it with care.

“Oh, hello there! What are you doing out so early?” She smiled warmly at me, standing up with an ornate, blue flower in hand.

“Just... clearing my head,” I said flatly.

She nodded pensively for a second before it looked like she remembered something, “Say, you wouldn’t have anywhere in particular to be right now, would you?”

I shook my head, and the lady’s face lit up.

“Perfect! Then a strong young boy like you wouldn’t mind helping me move some flower pots, would you?”

“Oh, um, sure,” I didn’t exactly have anything else to do at the moment.

The lady led me inside her shop, door closing with a jingle behind us. I had to admit, it looked lovely inside with all the vibrant flowers neatly and artfully arranged––and smelled just as delightful as it seemed.

“They’re right back here… oh, I don’t believe I ever caught your name.”

“Um, Katsuki.”

“Then right this way, Katsuki!”

The lady was friendly enough, maybe a bit too friendly, but I supposed helping her out might keep me occupied enough to silence that bitter voice in my head. When all the moving was done, she insisted that I try one of her homemade cookies, which was surprisingly delicious, and we got to chatting. Well, it was mostly her talking about how her youngest son was getting married this spring and she’d been looking for just the right flowers for the reception’s centerpieces.

“You know, you remind me a lot of my son. He used to come help me set up the shop every morning. Well, not since he moved away to his fiancee’s city, but he still calls every now and then.”

I simply nodded and took another bite of the cookie.

“Do you have anybody special?”

I nearly choked on the shortbread, surprised at the lady’s bluntness.

“Um, yeah, I’ve got… someone.”

She nodded in satisfaction, “are they good to you?”

“Yeah,” I paused, my head flooding with the events of last night once more. “Though I’m not sure I can say I’m very ‘good’ to him…”

“Why do you say that?” She wrinkled her brows in concern.

I let loose a heavy sigh, “Well, I– I messed up. And... it’s not the first time.”

She nodded, urging me to go on.

“I just–” I rubbed my face in frustration, “I don’t know what to do anymore. I trust him, but… God, why am I like this??”

“So you two are having a lovers’ spat, eh?”

I nodded.

“I thought so. I could tell from the way you were walking down the street, all sulky and lovesick.”

“Hey–” The lady held up a finger to silence me.

“And I could also tell that you’re the prideful type. Always letting your bravado get the better of you, am I right?”

I growled and nodded again.

The lady just grinned and whirled around wordlessly, fiddling with some things behind the counter. When she turned back to me, she presented a bouquet of beautiful purple and white flowers.

“Here. You’ll be needing these.”

I took the flowers into my hand and examined them carefully. There were only four flowers, but they seemed to be made up of dozens of smaller blossoms, making the little bouquet look quite full, yet still trim and neat.

“They’re hydrangeas,” she explained, seeing my blank stare. “They symbolize pride and apology, which I think fits our little predicament quite nicely.”

I still looked from her to the flowers and back dumbly.

“Give them to your special someone, numbskull. You’re gonna go apologize, right?”

I nodded again.

“Then give him these. And tell him how sorry you are for being a dimwit. And treat him like a king from now on, you hear me?”

“Oh, how much are they?”

“Free of charge. Consider it payment for helping me move those pots.”

A faint smile crept up my face as I looked at the simple bouquet.

“Thank you.”

“Any time. I’ve got to admit, I’m a sucker for young love,” the lady chuckled and shooed me out the door to go apologize with another shortbread cookie and flowers in hand.

I stepped into the apartment as quietly as I could, relieved to find Izuku was still asleep, and got to work. It was well after dawn now, partly because I took a little detour to the grocery store to pick up a couple ingredients. But I knew Izuku was an early riser, so I set to work quickly.

I had just finished when I heard Izuku’s alarm go off, and a short while later, his sleepy footsteps come padding into the kitchen.

“Kacchan, why are you up so earl–“ Izuku stopped mid-yawn and stared at the table.

“Deku, I know this doesn’t even come close to making up for last night, and I know you probably don’t believe me at this point, but I’m sorry. I really, truly am. And I can’t tell you how much I–” Izuku put a finger on my lips to stop my rambling.

“How long have you been up?”

I paused, a bit unsure whether I should tell him the truth.

“All night…” I finally admitted.

“Babe, why did you–”

“Because I can’t sleep knowing how much I’ve hurt you,” I took hold of his hand and kissed it softly, running my calloused finger over his scarred knuckles. “And pancakes and flowers aren’t nearly enough to express how sorry I am—for everything—but it’s a start.”

Izuku looked up at me with that soft little smile of his that just melted my heart every time and reminded me that everything was going to be alright.

“Well, the pancakes aren’t going to eat themselves,” he laughed, and I ruffled his wild mop of bedhead.

[philomenageils4-blog]

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