“If the fate of the universe was decided in a single moment at the instant of the Big Bang , that was the most creative moment of all.”
--Deepak Chopra
There’s a wide variety of creative content throughout the BNHA fandom, and what better way to celebrate that creativity than to host an event where we all come together to express it freely?! The BNHA Big Bang is a fandom-wide open event for all writers, artists, and any other content creator.
If you’ve never heard of one, a Big Bang is a collaboration between writers and artists that seeks to create amazing content for the fandom. This event will challenge you to write a story with a longer word count by the selected deadline and work together with artists to create fanart, playlists, moodboards, and more for the completed fic!
Participating in the event will earn you a spot in the Big Bang Academia Discord server. This will be everyone’s primary means of communication, so if you don’t have an account but would like to join in on the project, you’ll have to make one!
Interested in a chance to bond with a bunch of creators? How about creating more content for the fandom? Consider joining! It’s a great way to be exposed to tons of new fics and art for your favorite characters!
Please see more details below!
✸ LINKS ✸
SIGN UPS - CLOSED
FAQ
Timeline
Roll Call
Library (TBL)
✸ IMPORTANT INFORMATION ✸
ACCEPTED MEDIA
fanfics
art
moodboards
playlists
parallel posts
FANDOM
This event is limited to the BNHA fandom. All entries must be for BNHA to participate!
✸ WRITER REQUIREMENTS ✸
This must be a new work–one you work on during the event timeline. No previously written fics will be accepted.
20k minimum word count for a completed fic, no max
SFW, NSFW, DC allowed
Character repeats allowed (multiple creators can choose the same character)
Character x Reader, Character x Character allowed
No massive idea changes once your piece has been “picked” by an artist. This will keep the artist from having to scrap their own work.
10K word count check-in required before any artist commits to a fic idea
10k check-in must include the fic pairing, rating, tags/warnings, and estimated final word word count, and a paragraph summary of the fic. Fic descriptions will be anonymous for artists to choose from. All of this will also be explained in the Discord server.
Tips: Writers, please keep your own limitations in mind whether that’s school, work, social life, etc. You need to be able to set aside some time for this. While this project will be a fun challenge, it will be exactly that: a challenge. We need each and every one of our participants to really put their all into this and do their best to finish projects they commit to. Be cognizant of the fact that you’ll all be paired with someone to make counterparts for your pieces! We know 20K words is not a small feat, but as we mentioned, this collab is in fact a challenge. Please consider all of this when thinking about signing up.
✸ ARTIST REQUIREMENTS ✸
Artists can choose up to two unclaimed fics to create art for
Each written piece should have one art piece, possibly two depending on the length of the fic and the timetable (and generosity) of the artist.
If an artist doesn’t pick your fic, no worries! Every writer will still have the choice between a playlist, parallel post, or moodboard!
✸ TENTATIVE TIMELINE ✸
Sign-ups/Discord entry deadline: April 30th
Progress Check-in #1: May 28th
10k deadline (draft and summary due): June 25th
Artist pairings: June 27th-July 1st
Progress Check-in #2: July 16th
Final deadline: August 27th
It’s common in open collabs for deadlines to be soft and for there to be multiple drops. However, we’re trying to avoid that here. Life can get in the way, and that’s 100% understandable, but we urge all of you to try your hardest to stay motivated and reach your end goals. There will, of course, be resources for you to utilize in the server and on the blog such as writing and art tips, other creators who understand the difficulties that come with working on a project like this, and supportive admins who will be around to help!
In the end, we want the BNHA Big Bang to be fun, but we also want you all to take it seriously. Challenge yourselves, write your epic, and above all
The time has finally come! Everyone has been working their butts off for months now, coming up with wonderful ideas and putting them down on paper. It has been a journey—a learning experience for us all—but the end product is so well worth it!
The admin team has had a great time putting this project together, and we could not be happier with all of our participants. It’s been so much fun and such an honor to work with everyone, to see so many creative minds in one place.
So, here it is! Below the cut is the masterlist for the My Big Bang Academia project. Fics will be added over the course of a few days. We have everything from beautiful 20k one-shots to novelesque100k epics. Please keep in mind that many of these fics contain mature material, so read over the tags and warnings when clicking into a story!
Lastly, while some writers have finished their long-fics completely, others haven’t and will come up with their own posting schedule from here on out. Please be patient with everyone and show them lots of love!
It’s time to enjoy all of the pieces below! Make sure the writers and artists are showered with appreciation since they’ve put so much into this.
This is my original artwork, please do not repost.
My art entry for @mybigbangacademia’s artist/writer pairing event. 💞
IF I TOLD YOU
Story by @ratdesu
“As the indisputable middleweight champion, Bakugou stands at the pinnacle of MMA, but the pressure of retirement strikes harder than a fist. Meanwhile, Midoriya, a passionate physical therapist, stumbles across a familiar name on his calendar. Could this therapy amend more than just injury, but also their past rivalry?”
For more, check out If I Told You Masterlist 🥊
🍿 Artwork Masterlist
☕️ Tip jar [Ko-fi]
Taglist (open, send an ask to be added): @ceo-of-daichi @honey-makki @sullen-angel24 @daishou-suguru-simp @hqbbg @bratdesire @atsumuse @heauxzenji @starofmiran @miki-snake @lovetouya @radiofmv @lxvelylevi-blog @lady-lunaaa @wonderwoman292 @alia-chan
“She takes her lightsaber in both hands, the tip of the blade pointing directly down at you; she means to spear you through the heart, you realize. You’ll let her- your heart is hers alone.”
a piece done in collaboration with the writings of @lovekento! part of the @mybigbangacademia collab event
An: I tried formatting it on my phone because I'm on vacation. I struggled so I'll wait till I get home next weekend to properly format it, but here's my piece for @mybigbangacademia
Tags: major character death, small reference to start of the Final arc in the manga, depictions of grief, violence(fighting a villain), depiction of a person dying, PTSD, funerals, more gore cuz PTSD flashbacks, panic attacks, MORE GRIEF. Yuh.
The accompanying art was drawn by the extremely talented @almaadst find it here.
Premise: Watching your friend die is never easy, Bakugou learned this the hard way. But how many students need to die for UA to pick up the slack? To make attending the school safe for students and assuage the fears that have been stoked in their parents? To Bakugou’s knowledge, only a couple students have died at UA throughout its history. But for Aizawa, he knows the truth. He sees the grief he experienced when he lost Oboro reflected in his own students, and he decided that he’s had enough. He can’t sit idly by while students are dying. With the determination of class 2-A, they dig for the truth, only to find the hundreds of skeletons in UA and the HPSC are hiding in their closet. When the truth comes to life, the already fragile trust the people had with heroes shattered. And with these revelations, come a reckoning.
I'm really trying to give y'all time to run, or know what you're getting into.
Wc: 20k
Read the tags before clicking read more. Please.
Becoming a hero almost meant that sacrifices were going to be made. Your social life, your sleep, your mental health, or even your life. But as Bakugo is staring at blood soaked rubble, he realized that he wasn't ready to make that ultimate sacrifice. None of his classmates were. So why was he holding the hand of his lifeless friend?
After All for One was defeated, class 2-A took a collective deep breath. The Paranormal Liberation Front was dealt with. Everyone thought that they were finally going to be able to have a normal or at least semi-normal high school experience. That bubble was immediately popped at the Ground Beta site.
Bakugo, Denki and Kaminari were all running through what were the remnants of a multiple story building. There were only two floors that were left, and towering beams that indicated there were even more floors that now cease to exist. It was quiet, almost too quiet for Bakugou. He slowed down and surveyed his surroundings.
"Something feels wrong. I don't know what it is, but I'm not liking it here," Bakugou said, keeping in line with Denki and Kirishima. Dread weighed his brain down, the feeling coating him like a gross, thick syrup. He's never been this on edge before and it scares him. Denki laughed and shoved him a little.
"Dude, you're being paranoid. I know we've been through a lot in the last year, but it's over. All for One, the League, everything is done. We can finally relax," he said, placing his hands behind his head. Kirishima nodded before agreeing, stating, "Denki's right. We should always stay vigilant, but the people who would attack us on campus are never coming back. So we're safe here, alright Bakugou?" Bakugou let out a huff and the three of them remained in silence before a loud boom echoed through the floor. Before any of them could think, they were off, running to figure out the origin of the sound. They thought it was remotely detonated charges set up by the school, but Bakugou had a sinking feeling it was something or someone much worse. Kirishima and Denki were placing bets as to what the school had in store for them, but nothing about this screamed organized. They ran to another part of the building, and Bakugou's blood ran cold at the sight of a large hulking figure standing in front of a gaping hole in the concrete wall.
"Oh, my first victims," the figure spoke, its voice gravely and almost inhuman. It was grotesque, its body looking humanoid with lava and black rocks decorating its skin.
"Shitty Hair! Go alert the school," Bakugou barked out. Kirishima nodded and ran deeper into the building, knowing there's flares somewhere inside, leaving Bakugou and Denki to defend themselves.
Looking around, Bakugou tried to assess his best options, quickly realizing that's this is a nightmare for using his quirk. An enclosed space like this hallway means that Denki is easy collateral damage. All it takes is one wrong move and he'll hurt him, so Bakugou bursts forward, propelled by his hands' explosions in an attempt to run outside, only to be thrown against the wall. Bakugou grunts as he makes impact, and slides to the floor. Denki makes a move to get to Bakugou but the villain gets to Denki first, lifting him by the neck.
"You aren't as interesting, so if you want to live, stay out of it," they growled out, tightening his hold on Denki's neck. Denki felt heavy with nothing but fear as the villain stared at him. Bakugou watched as Denki clawed at the villain's hands in weakening attempts to get them to release him. The villain turned his head to look at Bakugou before continuing to speak. "I wanted you, among some of your other classmates, Shoto and Deku. You all caused quite the stir in the last year and I want to see what all the hype is. The rest of your class is simply collateral damage." They threw Denki to the same, and Bakugou instictively ran to catch his friend before he made contact with the wall.
"Get the fuck out of here Pikachu. I'm not letting you get hurt 'cuz of me," Bakugou growled, but Denki could see pain and worry swimming in his friend's eyes.
"I'm not leaving. Kirishima will be back soon. Let's hold him off til the teachers get here," Denki said, smiling. Bakugou shook his head, voicing his dissent.
"No. You both need to go. This is my fight, not yours." The villain stormed towards them.
"I'm tired of your fluffy shit. Neither of you are hurt really bad, and starting to fuckjng bored." Bakugo blasted both of them out of the building, getting Denki to a safe spot as the villain spoke. "Stay here and wait for the teachers." As Bakugo spoke, a flare shot into the sky, and Bakugo let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The teachers know something's up. Someone's gonna come for us. We'll be okay. When everything was so chaotic last year, he always had the teachers behind him, and it gave him so much more confidence and strength knowing he had pro-heroes on his corner, supporting him and ready to lay their lives on the line to protect him and his classmates.
"When the teachers come, tell them what's going on," Bakugou said before blasting off again, leaving a screaming Denki behind. This is his fight and business. He couldn't bear the pain of his best friend getting hurt because the villain want him.
As he arrived back at the building, he saw Kirishima outside, looking around. "Oi, Shitty Hair," Bakugou yelled out, catching Kirishima's attention. Kirishima's shoulders relaxed as he saw his friend.
"Oh thank goodness you're okay. Where's Kaminari," Kirishima asked, relief obvious on his features.
"I took him to safety. And you have to go, too, Shitty Hair. The guy specifically is after me. I refuse to let people get hurt because of me," Bakugou said, causing Kirishima to blink in surprise, before determination took over his features. "I'm your shield, remember? I can deal with the brunt of your attacks so you don't have to be careful around me, you hear? Go all out and show this villain why the best heroes come from UA. Besides, it wouldn't be very manly of me to leave my friend in their time of need," Kirishima stated, and Bakugou let out a "tsk" before the faintest sign of a smile appeared on his face.
"Found you," the villain exclaimed, coming out from the hole he left in the wall. It was almost the villain was playing some sick and twisted version of hide and seek. The villain almost sung those words, and it caused Bakugou to believe that the villain saw everything as somw fucked up game. Kirishima immediately took a defensive stance the moment he heard the villain, and Bakugou started blasting towards the villain. I don't have to incapacitate him, I just need to keep him busy, he thought as lhe blasted the villain in the face. They stumbled before smiling, showing their sharp teeth. "That's what I'm here for. Show me what you're capable of Dynamight," they snarled, now lunging at Bakugou.
Bakugou kept moving around, dodging his attacks, and the villain, slowly becoming more and more agitated, started picking up rubble to throw at him. The air was was slowly becoming more and more saturated with the smell of burnt caramel and smoke as Bakugou kept using his explosions to avoid the villain's attacks, and the crack of each of this explosions pierced through the air.
"I came for a fight, and all you're doing is dancing around me. If you think you're going to live long enough for your teachers to get here and save you, you're sorely mistaken," they growled. Bakugou didn't dignify them with an answer. Don't rile them up, but close yourself off so this isn't as much of a fun game for him. He'll start to want to give up and get messy and that's when I strike, he thought as he kept his pace in the air. He able to blast away pieces of the rubble, and Kirishima came in, blocking some of the villain's projectiles. They hissed out in pain as Kirishima landed some blows on him as well, and the villain immediately turned to punch Kirishima through a wall, knocking the redhead unconscious. "Kirishima," Bakugou yelled out, wanting to run to his friend, but the villain grabbed him and slammed him into the ground.
"Now that the pest is dealt with, time for the main show," they said as they cackled. All Bakugou could see was red, causing an explosion in the villain's face. The attack caused them to release Bakugou and he began an onslaught of attacks, landing blow after blow on the villain. The villain laughed despite obviously hurting from the blows. "This is it! Show me why the League thought you would be a great asset," they laughed, obviously trying to enrage Bakugou even further, but the sound of his name stopped his rampage.
Denki was running towards the fight, throwing a disk towards the villain before shooting out a bolt of electricity at them, their body locking up from the current. Bakugou ran to Denki at this opening, fury covering his features.
"The fuck are you doing here! I thought I told you to wait for the teachers, dumbass," Bakugo screamed. Denki shook his head.
"Aizawa came but he was the only teacher that was there, and I refused to wait any longer while my friends might be dying! He messed with you, meaning he messed with me," Denki said, his voice cracking. Bakugou could see him shaking and clenching his fists. He doesn’t want his friends to get hurt or die while he's hiding in safety. He wants to fight with his friends and loved ones. He refuses to be unsleep. Understanding Denki's emotions, he nodded.
"The moment that things start looking bad, you run. Put yourself first," Bakugou stated. "I won't leave you. I know Kirishima would tell you the same thing. We'll fight by your side to our last breath," Denki said with finality. Bakugou hated the mention of last breath because it in insinuates that either one of you or both of you weren't going to make it out of this interaction alive. Bakugou really wanted to change his mind, but the determination on his face convinced him otherwise.
"Let's get this party started," Denki cheered. He placed his hands down and crackling started filling the air. The air was charged, Bakugou's hair started to stand up, and small bolts of electricity started to worm their way around Denkilike an eel. Light started radiating from Chargebolt and his hair began to rise. The villain regained their bearings and lunged towards them and Denki nodded, signaling Bakugou to leap into the air. A large crack of Thunder boomed around the size of one of Bakugou's AP shot going off right in your eyes. Denki put out a large burst of energy, the ground scorching until it reached the villain. There were black lines where the lightning forced itself through the ground Denki kept it up, only releasing the charge as Bakugou was about to land a hit. It was hit after hit, and the villain regained their bearings enough to throw a piece of rubble at Bakugou, and it just narrowly missed him, causing him to stagger a bit. In the background, Bakugou could hear the sound of footsteps advancing towards him and Bakugou knew this was almost over. Bakugou lunged towards the villain and grabbed his face. He pulled the pin on his gauntlets, delivering a devastating blow, rendering the villain unconscious.
Bakugou landed and panted, on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion. "Looks like we did it Pikachu," Bakugou said, gulping down air with every other word. He was met with silence and dread quickly devoured his relief. "Pikachu," asked, calling out for his friend. He turned to see a large piece of rubble where his friend was. "No, no, no, no this can't be happening," he repeated to himself as he ran to the slab of concrete, only to be met with Denki's body from the waist down trapped under the concrete. Blood was filling his friend's mouth and Denki tried his best to give Bakugou a reassuring smile, but it was one filled with unease as well.
"Stay with me Denki. Please," Bakugou cried out, moving to hold his hand. Bakugou didn't notice the blood covering his friend's hand, nor would he even care if he did. Denki gave it a weak squeeze and turned to look at him.
"Please don't blame yourself. I know you, so I know you'll do it. This is no one else's fault but the villain's. They threw the rubble. Not you," Denki said, pain drowning every word he spoke. Bakugou is always so hard on himself, blaming himself for every and any little thing. So he knew right away that Bakugou would blame himself for this.
"But I could have blown the rubble away. It didn't need to hit you," Bakugou stated, almost choking on his words.
"You didn't know it would hit me. I know if you even thought it would hit me you would have blown it away," Denki said, squeezing Bakugou's hand again. "I trust you with my like Kacchan. Even now, as you blame yourself, I still trust you. I always will trust you." Don't believe Denki's front though, he was terrified. He didn't want to die, he had so much left to do. But if he showed that fear, it would eat Bakugou for the rest of his life, and he couldn’t do that to him. He didn't blame him anyway. Denki's eyes became heavy and he started blinking, each one longer than the other. "Everything's gonna be okay," Denki said, squeezing Bakugou's hand. "Tell Shinsou I love him," Denki said softly and Bakugou shook his head, refusing his request. "You're gonna tell him that yourself Kaminari, you hear me," Bakugou said, holding Denki's hand tightly, and Denki gave Bakugou a smile before closing his eyes.
"No, you stay with me. Keep your eyes open and keep talking to me, you hear me Kaminari," Bakugou barked out, but he was met with silence, Denki's chest rising and falling slowly, but starting to slow even further. Soon it came to a complete still, and Denki's hand fell limp in Bakugou's. Bakugou repeatedly called out his friend's name in agony, and leaned in to hear it silent. An anguished cry sounded from Bakugou and Mina ran over, collapsing when she realized her friend was dead. She held Bakugou close, her wails joining his own. The teachers let them mourn before moving to pull them away. Mina went easily, but Bakugo refused to go, kicking and screaming.
"Let me go! I wanna stay with him! Please," he screamed, and Aizawa and Hizashi quickly moved in to get the teachers off of him, and knelt next to him.
"We have to get him ready to give to his family. We need you to let him go, okay," Aizawa asked, his voice soft. Bakugou looked at him with wide eyes, his cries turned into sniffles, before he got up and Aizawa held him tightly, allowing his student to cry into his chest. Hizashi rubbed his back, and they walked back to the crowd that had amassed near the scene. The sound of footsteps brought Bakugou back, and Bakugou turned to see Shinsou and his group panting wildly as Shinsou specifically walked toward Bakugou. Hwere on the farthest side of the training grounds so it took him a while, but he heard Denki was in trouble and ran over as fast as he could. He needed to tell Denki how he felt, that he was in love with him, whether it would be reciprocated or not, because he may not get another chance. His blood ran cold as he was now able to see the scene, his eyes landing on Bakugou, as Mina gave Shinsou a small hug before croaking out "I'm sorry". Shinsou looked around to see Denki's body being moved from the rubble. Aizawa's eyes landed on him and he instictively moved Bakugou into Hizashi's hands before moving towards Shinsou. The latter crumpled to the ground before releasing heart-wrenching sobs. It felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. Shinsou's wails pierced the air, and Bakugou felt his heart breaking all over again.
Aizawa lifted him up and walked him back over to where Bakugou and Hizashi were. Bakugou looked up and he couldn’t meet Shinsou's eyes. "He loved you," Bakugou blurted out. Shinsou's cries turned into small sobs as he let out a quiet, "what?" "Kaminari loved you. Those were his last words. He asked me to tell you that he loved you," Bakugo clarified, and Shinsou moved to hug Bakugou tightly as he let out loud sobs again. "He knew you loved him though. So try not to regret not telling him because he already knew it," Bakugou said, returning the hug. Aizawa tapped Bakugou, informing him that he needed to be treated for his injuries.
After he was patched up, he waited in Kirishima's hospital room, wanting to be the one to break the news to him. It took an hour or so for Kirishima to come around, giving a weak smile to Bakugou. "Did we get him," he asked groggily, to which Bakugou replied, "yeah, we did." Kirishima nodded and looked around the room. There were numerous beds, but his was the only one occupied. "Where's Denki," Kirishima asked, and Bakugou looked down. "Kirishima, about that," Bakugou started, looking down at the floor, but Kirishima shot up, now seated in the bed, and interrupted Bakugou. "Don't tell me-" Bakugou nodded, a small sniffle coming from him and Kirishima started sobbing, only to cause Bakugou to join in the sorrow. Their cries echoed off the room's walls like a cave designed to minic their pain. He quickly moved to hug Kirishima, and whispered, "I'm sorry Eijiro. I could have done more to save him."
Kirishima grabbed Bakugou's shoulders firmly, staring into his eyes. "It isn't your fault and don't blame yourself. It's not what he would want. The whole 'would've/could've/should've' isn't manly at all and serves NO ONE. You tried your best. We both did. There was nothing more we could have done and you need to accept that," Kirishima stated, his voice firm, albeit with occasional cracks. He was right. There was nothing either of them could do. Denki was gone. Kirishima held Bakugou's hands tightly, maintaining his intense eye contact, before continuing to speak. "Everyone is going to have to stick together. It's gonna be rough for a while, but if there's ever a moment we have to come together, it's now. Of course our pain is different from theirs, but mine is different than yours too. But it's okay to be vulnerable right now. It's okay that people have seen you cry and will see you cry. You lost your best friend right in front of you. Of course you're going to be an emotional wreck. But you aren't alone in your grief. You aren't alone at all. And you need to remember that because I'm going to knock down your door to make sure you're eating." Bakugo nodded and Kirishima gave him a small smile. "I know Denki wouldn't want me crying right now, he wouldn’t want any of us to cry, so I'm trying my absolute best to keep it together, but damn is it hard," Kirishima breathed out, and Bakugou squeezed Kirishima's hand before moving to lay in the bed next to his. There was considerable amount of space between the two of them, but just being in the same room as Kirishima makes him feel a little more at ease.
"Hey, do you mind me sleeping here for the night? I don't really want to be alone right now," Bakugou grumbled out, and Kirishima nodded. He's trying his best not to go back to his abrasive demeanor, but he feels like it will bring some normalcy back into his life. Later though, because emotions are running high, and he doesn't want to hurt any of his friends any further.
As Bakugou fell asleep, his body felt heavy, and his eyes opened to him at the field again. It wasn't raining, but the low cracks of thunder were almost deafing, and the bursts of lightning were almost blinding. The thunder was a soft background to Denki's pained screams. Bakugou runs back to the rubble to find Denki there again. Seeing his friend's mangled body was absolutely worse the second time around. Bakugou had to focus on the rubble, and nothing else to preserve his sanity. The moment he looked at Denki’s body, Denki's eyes landed on Bakugou. The screams quickly turned into venomous words. "It's your fault! If you paid attention, I wouldn't have gotten crushed. My death is on your hands," Denki spat out, causing Bakugou to fall onto the grass. No, it wasn't his fault, was it? Everyone keep saying it isn't, but he holds his guilt deep inside. Kirishima's voice sounded and parroted Denki's words. Bakugou turned to see Kirishima's mangeled body the floor. Then came Mina, then Jirou, then Shinsou, then Aizawa, and slowly more and more people joined in on the cacophonous chants of "It's all your fault." The smell of blood from their mangled bodies pierced his nose, violating his sense of smell. Bakugou covered his ears, sobbing and trying his best to ignore the chants, but they only got louder with each passing moment. His heart beat in his chest like an drummer going through a solo. His brain practically shut down at that point. Overwhelmed, Bakugou closed his eyes and let out a scream to drown out the sounds, only to shoot up in bed, his eyes opened wide as he scanned the hospital room. Kirishima was staring at him, concern laced in his eyes. "You okay there? You were screaming and then woke up," Kirishima asked. Bakugou couldn't even answer, breaking down into tears for what feels like the 20th time within the last 24 hours. Kirishima couldn't really get out of bed due to his injuries, so all he could do was whisper reassurances to his best friend, hoping it would be enough. A nurse came running in, panic in her eyes, but took a sigh of relief when she saw no one was severely physically hurt. She saw nothing but pain reflected in Bakugou's eyes, and moved to offer him some chamomile and lavender tea, and/or melatonin to help him sleep. He took her offer on the tea and she left to prepare it for him. The two boys sat in silence, neither one knowing what to say to the other, and just waited for the nurse to come back.
When she returned she had two white porcelain tea mugs, steam billowing from their lips. She set them down next to the boys and gave them a soft smile. "Hey, I can push your beds closer if you want. I assume you had a nightmare," the nurse spoke, looking at Bakugou, and then turned to Kirishima before continuing, "and you wanted to comfort your friend, but you're currently bed bound so you can't hug him despite really wanting to. So once you finish your teas, I'll make sure you two are within arms reach of each other, okay? Think of Kirishima as your emotional support animal right now, although I highly suggest you look into getting one." The nurse finished speaking and left. Again, the boys just stayed silent, focusing on the tea in their hands, the warmth relieving some of their anguish. After an hour, the nurse came back, Kirishima already fast asleep, and Bakugou still awake but his eyes slowly shutting before he forces them open. Their mugs were on their bedside tables, and she moved them to a table near the door before moving the boys close to each other. She moved their bedside tables to make sure they were on the outside of the beds, removing obstructions between them. Bakugou gave a soft grunt in appreciation and she turned around to grab the cups and leave for the night. She gave one last look at the boys, smiling at Bakugou finally fast asleep, and his hand intertwined with Kirishima's.
The next morning, Bakugou was woken up by the nurse, who informed him that Denki's parents wanted to speak to him. Would they blame him for Denki's death? Do they hate him? He wouldn't blame them for either. Bakugou gulped, and he got out of bed sluggishly following the nurse out of the room and through the hospital until they got to a conference room. The nurse open the door, and Bakugou walked in to see Denki's parents and Aizawa standing up, intensely looking at the door. Denki's mom ran to him as soon as the nurse closed the door behind him and hugged him tightly, soft sniffles sounding from her, while Aizawa sat back down. Bakugou was stunned, his eyes wide, but returned the hug nonetheless. After she pulled away, she gently held his cheek in her hand, giving him a wet smile. "You know, Kaminari was super excited when you started warming up to him. He told me that you were 'grumpy as hell, but had a good heart'. He would talk about how he was so happy when you didn't push him away anymore, and 'accepted' his friendship. You were a good friend to my boy, and I can never thank you enough," she said, her voice dripping in fondness. "But I got him killed," Bakugou replied, his voice meek. The little voice in his head refused to remain silent, vocalizing the mindset it quickly adopted within these last 24 hours.
"Don't you dare blame yourself. Kaminari was there because he wanted to protect you. Protect his friends. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else but by your side. The person to blame is the fucking villain who killed him. I don't care that he was after you in particular. He made the decision to break into UA's grounds. He threw the rubble. It's his fault, not yours," she said, her voice now firm. Her husband came up from behind her and placed a hand on Bakugou's shoulder. "We could have blamed you. But we know that it would only be us lashing out at you because we were blinded by grief. You can't predict the future. After all, hindsight is 20/20. But you were there for him in his final moments. You stayed by his side and comforted him. Our son didn't die alone, he died with you by his side, and we can't thank you enough," he added onto his wife's words. "Being a hero means that there's a risk that you'll have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Whether it's making a last stand or by accident, heroes die in the line of duty. But I know so many of my colleagues who died alone. They must have been so scared, but they had no one to comfort them in their final moments. But Denki had you. He had you holding his hand and talking to him. And I'm so thankful that he wasn't scared and alone in his final moments, but was feeling loved by you," she finished, now moving to sit at the table again.
"They wanted to comfort you. That's why they called you here," Aizawa said, Bakugou's attention now turning on him. "It works for me, because the school is holding a memorial for him, and we would like your help to organize it. We already spoke to Mina, Sero, and Jirou, who already agreed. Kirishima and you are all that's left to ask," Aizawa explained. Bakugou took a second to think. Is he the right person for this? Will he be mentally okay enough for this? But the memory of Denki's smile and laugh flashed through his head, and that made up his mind for him.
"I'll do it." Denki wouldn't want us crying and mourning like this. He would want us to celebrate his life, happy that he was with us. Aizawa nodded and called for the nurse to take him back to his room. Bakugou sat in his bed once he arrived and looked at Kirishima who was still fast asleep. "He'll probably be discharged tomorrow. I spoke to the doctor, and they're looking into you two being roommates for a little bit. You were able to sleep well last night after Kirishima held your hand, so with Kirishima staying with you, you can get some sleep," the nurse said. He didn't even realize she was still there but whispered a soft thanks before she left the room. Bakugou laid down and held Kirishima's hand again, the same hand from last night still extended, and found himself slipping into a dreamless slumber.
The next morning, Bakugou woke up to see Jirou, Shinsou, Sero and Mina all standing by Kirishima's bed. They were mumbling, and Bakugou coughed loudly to gain their attention. They turned to him and the room turned silent for a bit until Mina grabbed him and hugged him tightly. "I'm here for you Bakugou. We all are," she spoke, and the rest of the group nodded, their attention now on their explosive friend.
"Well, I, uh, am here for you too," he mumbled, the words foreign on his tongue. Everyone laughed at his awkwardness and Bakugou smiled, this moment being the first time he wasn't consumed with grief.
Jirou and Sero hugged him tightly as well, this quickly turning into an awkward cuddle puddle. In this room, normalcy reigned supreme. Bakugou felt a couple more bodies join in, and he grumbled at them to get off, but they refused, only hugging him tighter. Soon enough, they all broke apart, and that brief moment of happiness was choked out by grief.
"We have to start planning the memorial. The school said they'll do whatever we ask, so we have to figure that out," Shinsou said. His voice didn't waiver but there was pain in his eyes. Bakugou nodded and pointed towards the back corner of the room, where there were a stack of chairs. Everyone but Bakugou and Kirishima went to grab one and bring it back to the beds, where those chairs made a crude U shape as they started making the plans.
Over the next week, the group met in Kirishima's and Bakugou's room, Aizawa sometimes showing up as well. It was mostly a somber event, after all, they're planning a memorial for their best friend. But there's moments of time where the room is full of laughter, the group reminiscing about the nonsense Denki got you all into. The room went from being full of grief to being full of glee, and Bakugou could swear up and down he heard his laughter mixed into theirs, and it began to feel as if he was in fhe room with them.
Soon, the memorial was all set, and ready to go. The morning of, UA's second years gathered in the auditorium. The energy filling the room was dense, the grief filling the room like toxic clouds. Bakugou felt like it was hard to breathe, the sorrow almost like a hand wrapped around his throat and was slowly putting more pressure on him. He was backstage, frozen in place from the pain of what he is about to do. Why did he even agree to this? Honoring his memory? Most of the students gathered in the room barely even knew him! They didn't know how sometimes he would snort if he laughed too hard, or sometimes even wheeze. They didn't know how he had to hype himself up before exams. They didn't know how much he grew from their first year. They knew nothing about him, so why were they grieving? A hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Kirishima behind him. "They're ready for us," he informed his friend, and Bakugou nodded, making his way onto the stage. The lights were bright, and with his limited vision, he could see so many students with tears in their eyes. He could hear sniffles and even full on sobbing in the crowd. How much of an influence did Denki have? Bakugou looked at the stage finally, seeing a giant photo of Denki on an easel, draped in yellow and black flowers. There was a podium next to it where Aizawa stood. Bakugou noticed that he was dressed practically the same way as he does when he has to, whether it be visiting parents or press conferences. His suit was wrinkled, and his hair was placed into a horribly done top bun. Aizawa cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone, starting the memorial.
"Good morning second-years. I'm sorry that we have to gather under sad circumstances, but we're here to honor the memory of Denki Kaminari.” A wail sounded from the seats, and Bakugou watched as the student was gently escorted out of the room. Aizawa continued after the door closed behind them. “He was a bright student. Every time would walk into a room, his smile would lighten up the space. He was well loved, not just by his classmates, but his peers among his year, and the staff. I can personally attest that sometimes on bad days seeing his antics would put the first, and sometimes the only smile on my face of the day. I know I’ll miss him greatly, and class 2-A will never be the same without him,” Aizawa finished, now stepping from the podium.
Bakugou knew it was his turn to speak, but his feet were frozen in place. It felt like there was something weighing him down, his body too heavy to walk towards the podium. Kirishima’s voice rang in his ears, “If you can’t speak, that’s okay, I’ll go instead. But are you gonna be okay up there?” Bakugou took a deep breath and nodded, slowly walking to the podium. A small folded piece of paper burned a hole into his pocket, and as he got behind the podium he pulled the paper out and unfurled it. He kept his down, unable to look at the crowd in front of him. Taking another deep breath, he looked at the paper in front of him, the speech that he planned that’s essentially perfect and meticulous, but it was devoid of emotion, and he knew it. He knew that it was his feelings, but deeping sanitized to make it palatable to an audience, but it wasn’t him. He crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor.
“Denki was my best friend. Scratch that, he is my best friend. He will always be my best friend. But we didn’t start like that. In one of our first interactions, he told me, ‘We've only barely started socializing and already you've made it abundantly clear to us the unpleasantness of your steamed turn of a personality.’ So we didn’t like each other that much. But he grew on me, and I grew on him. We helped each other grow, not just as heroes, but as students and as people. He helped me be more cooperative, and I helped him be more confident. But we also gave each other a safe space to be authentically ourselves. I don’t know how many times I found myself in front of his room when I had a particularly bad day and he would always distract me from my negative emotions. I always went back to my room in a much better state than when I left it. He’s easily one of the good things in my life, and I’m so lucky that I get to say that,” Bakugou stated, his speech fully coming from his heart. He looked up at Denki’s photo, and in a weird way, it felt like Denki was reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. Bakugou wasn’t aware of this, but the mic picked up his parting words of, “I’ll miss you Kaminari,” and it took all of Aizawa’s energy to not cry at those words. He’s never seen Bakugou so vulnerable and it’s killing him to see his students going through the same pain that he went through all those years ago.
The rest of the memorial went smoothly, although Bakugou zoned out after he took his seat backstage. Words sounded like static despite his best attempts to focus on his friend’s words. Each speech they gave sounded like they were speaking through cotton, and after the third speech, he just gave up, his mind fully dissociating. Kirishima wanted to comfort him, but Bakugou has been staring at the stage, but it’s like he’s seeing through everyone. His eyes were unfocused, and the call of his name from Mina or Sero couldn’t break his trance, and so everyone just let him be. The sound of Denki’s mother pulled him violently into reality, as he saw both her and her husband at the podium.
“Thank you all for being here. It makes me so happy to see how loved our son was by the school. I think he would be so happy to know how many people wh]ose life he’s touched. Denki was proud that he got into UA. When he got his acceptance letter, it was all he talked about for months. And then when he started actually attending the school, he came home with stories about his classmates and the people he met or talked to that day. But I know that Denki wouldn’t want everyone wallowing in sorrow, so you can take the letters that you wrote and dump them in the baskets near the doors or give them to a staff member,” she said, and Bakugou remembered the letter idea that Mina had a while back. She suggested that students wrote at least one good memory they had with Denki, but he had no idea they actually went through it since 2-A hasn’t had class since the incident. He’s barely even left his room, with Kirishima bringing him food and water throughout the day. “Keep those good memories with you. After all, you only truly die when everyone who knew you forgets about you.” She and her husband bowed after her last words, and Bakugou stared as they made their way towards him. He shot out of his chair as they approached him, and they hugged him before she gestured everyone to join in on the hug. “Denki’s so lucky to have all of you in his life. I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends for Kami to have. He was so happy to have been in every single one of your lives, so please, keep going, for him,” she said tearfully, and Bakugou felt her arms tighten around him.
They were all so absorbed into the moment that they didn’t even realize that Aizawa ended the memorial until they heard him call for Bakugou. Everyone pulled away and Bakugou walked towards his teacher who hugged him tightly. “I know exactly what you’re going through right now. I lost my best friend while I was at UA as well. He died during an internship and I saw him die in front of my eyes,” Aizawa said before pulling away to look Bakugou in the eyes, and then continued. “He had a speaker to communicate with me that was right next to me after he was crushed by the rubble. I heard him encourage me to finish the fight through it, only to find out after the fact that the speaker wasn’t working and his voice was in my head. To this day, I still blame myself for his death. Even after finding out he’s still alive, I still blame myself. It’s why I’m always so hard on you kids. You’re just kids. You shouldn’t be fighting adults. I don’t care how capable you are, it’s not your job. If you as children have to fight full-fledged villains, then that’s a failure on the part of the adults. That means we failed as teachers, as heroes, as mentors and as protectors. And that means we failed you. But please, don’t blame yourself like I did. I know that everyone is telling you this, but I’m hoping that it means a lot more coming from me since I was in your same exact shoes. That I regret drilling the fact that it was my fault into my head. I don’t want you to have that same regret.” Bakugou simply nodded and Aizawa let him go, the area now empty except for the two of them, and Kirishima. The latter walked up to Bakugou and simply stated, “let’s go,” before the two of them made their way back to their room.
The funeral wasn’t any easier. At first it was the wake, and it was simple enough. Bakugou was slightly relieved that no one expected him to talk because he didn’t have the strength to. He had spent most of the ceremony fiddling with his black tie. If it wasn’t his tie, it was him “dusting off” his suit jacket or his slacks. Everyone was focused on the priest, taking in his words, and Bakugou tried his best, but his brain just kept feeling like it was full of wool. He was seated with his friends in the section dedicated to Denki’s relatives. Denki’s parents justified it with the explanation that Denki considered them family, so it was only fair that they sat with the family, and Denki’s relatives all agreed.
Bakugou looked at the sound system hooked up to the temple, a microphone hooked to the priest’s robe. He found the amount of wires going around the space was odd, since it would suggest a large amount of speakers were in use, but Bakugou assumed that it was due to the large number of people seated in the temple, so have a lot of speakers made sense so that everyone could hear the sutra.
Then it was time to offer incense, with each family member walking up to the burner, a large ornate bowl with a thick stem and base. His mom taught him the traditions when he was younger, and he made sure to practice before tonight. The prayer beads that Denki’s mother gave him earlier sat cold around his fingers, coiled around his left hand, and that’s all he could focus on as he got up and made his way to the altar. He froze once he could clearly see Denki’s body in the casket. He was adorned in a long kimono that fully covered his legs and feet. His mind flashed back to the moment Denki had died, the memory fully consuming his head. A hand on his back tore him from his flashback, Denki’s father beside him. “You can sit back down if this is too much for you. I know this is probably taking you back to that moment,” he said, and Bakugou shook his head in refusal. He’s here to honor his friend, and he’s going to do it right.
Now standing a step or two away from the altar, he took a deep breath. It was his left foot, then his right, and then putting his left next to his right as he stood directly in front of the altar. He took some of the ground incense with his right hand and put it into the burner. Placing the palms of his hands together, he kept his fingers straight and placed the outside of his thumbs on his chest and bowed again. He relaxed his hands, dropping them at his sides, and took three steps back. Right foot, left foot, together. He bowed one last time, and made his way back to his seat, where Denki’s mother rubbed his back gently, reassuring him that he did a good job.
The rest of the wake passed by quickly and it was time for people to start leaving. Bakugou’s parents walked up to him and hugged him tightly. Neither knew what to say in this moment. They knew that their son had gone through so much, but they’ve never seen him like this before. They’ve never seen him this broken, so how do they comfort him? “I’m heading back to UA,” he said softly, pulling away from his parents. He remembered how his mother called him weak after the slime villain, and how tough she’s been to him, and he just can’t deal with that right now. Mitsuki nodded and they let Bakugou leave. Mitsuki’s brain was telling her to say something, anything to try and alleviate some of the pain her son is going through, but she remained silent, watching her son’s retreating figure leave the temple.
As Bakugou and his friends left, he saw a massive group of people waiting outside, each offering incense to a massive burner. There were a couple speakers set up outside, which explained all those wires. Everyone gave him sad smiles whenever they made eye contact, and Bakugou quickly became overwhelmed with grief at the sight of all of these people. Denki would be so happy to know that so many people cared about him, and still do.
When Bakugou got back into the dorm, he quickly got ready for bed, Kirishima following suit, and the moment his body hit the bed, he was asleep.
The next morning was the funeral itself, and Bakugou had practically no energy to go, but he knew he had to. He knew that he had to be there, whether it’s for Denki, for his family, or his friends, it was the only place he needed to be today. He begrudgingly put on his suit, and Kirishima practically pulled him to the car waiting in front of the dorms. “We’re almost late dude. Let’s hope there’s no traffic,” Kirishima said, anxiety dancing in his words.
By the time they arrived, most of the seats were taken, but Mina saved them a seat next to her, Sero and the others already seated with her. Only a minute after they sat down, the ceremony started. Everything went similarly as yesterday’s although Bakugou noticed there were no speakers set up outside like last night. Another difference was the renaming ceremony, and although Bakugou understood the reasoning and tradition behind it, Bakugou could only wish that simply saying Denki’s name would bring him back to him. At the end of the service, Mina pulled out a bouquet of flowers that were placed under her chair. “I got one for everyone.” Bakugou remembered Mina texted about that the other day, although it slipped his mind completely this morning. Everyone took one, and they each placed a flower into his coffin, his head and shoulders adorned with flora.
After the coffin was sealed, the funeral ended, and Bakugou was silently glad that Denki’s mother didn’t invite him for the cremation. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to take physically picking up his friend’s bones and placing them in an urn.
For the next month everything seemed to be a blur. Bakugou’s grades faltered for a while, although Aizawa pushed him to pick up the slack. Bakugou hadn’t had a dream since his nightmare a month ago, and his sleep quality has taken a turn for the worst. There were talks of Bakugou going back to his own room, but Bakugou refused, knowing that we would have those nightmares again. Despite Bakugou’s, Kirishima’s and Aizawa’s arguments, they put Bakugou into his own room and for days, Bakugou refused to sleep. He had coffee, energy drinks, tea, whatever it took to keep him up, but one night, his body had enough, and he collapsed from exhaustion. He doesn’t remember the dream he had, but all he knows is that he woke up screaming in the infirmary. Kirishima ran in and held Bakugou, telling him, “It’s okay. You’re safe here. It’s gonna be okay,” and Bakugou’s screams quickly turned into violent sobbing. In his tears, Bakugou could barely make out the sound of Aizawa screaming outside the door. He didn’t really care to figure out what his teacher was saying, to focused on trying his best to calm down. After what felt like hours, he finally calmed down, his sobs turning into soft sniffles. Kirishima went outside and Aizawa came in almost immediately after Kirishima left.
“Hey Bakugou. I convinced the school to get you an emotional support animal. For now, I have a cat in my room that I can allow you to sleep with. She’s a cuddle bug and extremely friendly, so I think she would work well in the interim. And when you get your own emotional support animal, she does work well with other animals, already used to Eri’s animal. But if she doesn’t work, and you have nightmares, we’ll reevaluate. But all your papers are being expedited, so you’ll get your official animal soon,” Aizawa stated, and before Bakugou could respond, Aizawa left the room. Kirishima returned not long after, and handed Bakugou a bottle of water.
“Hey, I saw Aizawa leave, everything alright,” he asked Bakugou, and Bakugou huffed before responding.
“Yeah. He’s getting me an emotional support animal. He thinks having one around would help with the nightmares.” Kirishima nodded before grinning.
“That sounds like it would work! After all, you could only really sleep when I was in the same room. I think having an emotional support animal would be great for you. Would they only be for your room, or for when you’re out and about,” he asked and Bakugou shrugged.
“I only know that I get nightmares. I don’t think I get panic attacks or anything like that. But I’ll ask for one I can take in public just in case,” Bakugou said, his finger on his chin. He doesn’t know the extent of his own trauma. Sometimes it gets worse after a while, so it’s better to prepare for the worst. He chugged the water bottle and gave the empty bottle to Kirishima to throw out. Bakugou fell asleep without even realizing, and the moment Kirishima held his hand and sat down on the edge of the bed. He used his other hand to scroll through his phone for the next couple hours.
Aizawa came back a couple hours later to find Kirishima asleep next to Bakugou. The sight before him reminded him about the many sleepovers Hizashi and Oboro had during their time in UA. Smiling softly, he woke up Kirishima, sending the boy back to his room, before gently waking up Bakugou.
“Hey, I have everything ready for Cookie to spend the night at your dorm,” Aizawa said gently.
“Is Cookie the cat you were talking about,” Bakugou asked groggily. Aizawa nodded.
“She’s already in your room. I’ll walk with you back to your room so that I can make sure that she doesn’t escape.” Bakugou got up and started walking to his room with Aizawa in tow.
When Bakugou arrived at his room, he slowly opened the room to see a grayish cat covered in black specks.
“Her full name is Cookies and Cream,” Aizawa said in the doorway, smiling at the cat. Cookie ran towards Aizawa and he scooped her into his arms. “Sit down on your bed,” he ordered, and Bakugo sat down. Aizawa walked towards him and placed Cookie onto his student’s lap. “Put out a hand.” Bakugou listened, and Cookie sniffed his hand before rubbing her face on his hand, purring. Bakugou gave her a soft smile, just her presence alleviated some of his pain. “I’ll pick her up in the morning, and drop her off at night. I also left treats and a litter box here. I hope she helps.” Aizawa left after he spoke, leaving Bakugou and Cookie alone in the room. They stared at each other for a little bit before Bakugou went to get ready for bed. When Bakugou took his shower, Cookie was mewling outside the door, and after he stepped out, he opened the door, Cookie trotted towards him, and rubbed her face on his wet leg. Bakugou scoffed and brushed his teeth, and spit it out before picking up the small cat. He placed her on the bed, and told her to stay there while he got dressed. She surprisingly stayed on the bed, watching him get dressed. He climbed into his bed, and Cookie moved out the way before climbing into his bed. Cookie climbed onto his chest once he was comfortable and curled onto it. He found himself falling asleep within minutes, her purring luring him to sleep.
When he woke up, Cookie was still on his chest, moving to rub her face against his as she felt him move. Bakugou put her on his lap as he sat up, moving to get out of bed. He placed her on his shoulder, brushing his teeth, and leaving her on the toilet cover as he moved to shower. A knock sounded from his door, he quickly finished his shower and got dressed before running to open the door. Aizawa stood before him.
“I’ve come to get Cookie. I’ll bring her back around 8:30, since I know you go to bed around 9,” Aizawa said, moving to pick up the cat. “I’ll see you in class.” With Cookie in tow, Aizawa left, Bakugou feeling a little empty at the sound of his door closing.
As he arrived, the class stared at him. He knew they were aware of his nightmares, knowing that tonight was the first night he was sleeping without anyone with him. He didn’t look exhausted, and they were relieved. They knew he didn’t scream in the middle of the night, so he was okay, and that's all they wanted for their friend.
Class went just fine for the day, Bakugou showing a bit more of his old personality, calling Kirishima “Shitty Hair.” Kirishima didn’t even realize how much he missed that nickname until Bakugou said it. He could see that Bakugou was starting to heal, and that made him more than happy. If anyone needed to heal from this all, it was Bakugou.
Cookie stayed with him for a couple months, his sleep shifting from dreamless to neutral to even pleasant dreams. One morning when Aizawa came to pick her up, he gave Bakugou a letter.
“Your emotional support animal is going to be here by the end of the week. But you’re free to visit Cookie at my apartment,” he stated, and Bakugou nodded. Cookie mewled loudly, sad that she's no longer going back into his room, or able to hang out with him. Aizawa chuckled. "Please visit soon, I have a sinking feeling our little feline friend is going to miss you. Bakugou scratched her head gently and her cries turned into soft purrs of satisfaction and pleasure.
When it came time to meet his support animal, he was met with a small dog, who wore a harness labeled “service dog”. He was in the principal’s office just staring down this dog that could easily fit in a tote bag. It was super fluffy and Bakugou looked at the scene with a raised eyebrow. He kinda expected a big dog to match his big personality, practicality be damned.
“Meet Akio, the pomeranian. He’ll be your emotional support animal. Aizawa expressed that you needed one that could stay on your bed, and he’s the perfect size to share your bed with, as well as be able to go to classes and off campus with you,” Nezu said, smiling at Bakugou. He really did pity the circumstances he was in, and knew that this was something that could have been completely avoided, if only he exercised his power as the principal. “A trainer will guide you through caring for Akio. But we’ll make sure that both you and him will be taken care of, okay,” Nezu said, and Bakugou nodded. The person holding Akio’s leash handed it over to Bakugou before leaving. He stared down at the dog, and he looked up at him.
When everything was signed Bakugou went to his room, and Akio trotted happily alongside him. He got stares from classmates but no one said anything to him, rage radiating off of him. How could they give him such a cute animal? He’s Bakugou FUCKING Katsuki, aka Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Nothing about him is cute, so why is he carrying this blonde cloud around? It looks like his shedded hair from over the years formed into a giant ass hairball. He thinks they purposely picked an animal that had fur the same color as his hair.
As he arrived in his room, Akio sat down, and Bakugou lifted him up to the bed. Akio stared at his new owner, almost curious, and Bakugou grunted at the sight. He stayed perfectly on the bed, watching as Bakugou moved to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He walked out in his pajamas to see Akio waiting in front of the door, excitement lacing their face when they saw Bakugou. Grumbling, Bakugou picked him up and took him to bed, laying on his back while Akio laid on his chest. He watched as the small animal curled up on his chest and slowly fell asleep. Bakugou smirked and slowly fell asleep.
Suddenly, he was back at Ground Beta, and his body was bound the same way it was at his first Sports Festival. The metal pole behind him felt cold against his back through his gym uniform. The voice of the monster that captured him his 3rd year of middle school echoed through the space and Bakugou’s blood ran cold.
“Ah Bakugou, look at you. Your weakness is always on full display, no matter how hard you try to hide it. Quirkless Midoriya pitied you. Everyone touted you to be the next incarnation of All Might while a quirkless loser had to save you. Maybe it would have been better if I killed you then. Save you all the shame.” Bakugou sighed shakily at the words. Breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7, breathe out for 8. In, 4. Hold, 7. Out, 8. Bakugou kept repeating the pace in his head while he felt his body tremble. No. He’s wrong. Deku saving him was something he could never forget. Deku read him like a book, and he hated it at the moment, but he was happy that Deku could read him like that. If he died, he would have never got the opportunity to grow, or to apologize to Deku for everything. He would have never met his friends, Kirishima, Sero, Denki. He took a deep breath and looked up, determination lacing his features. He pulled at his restraints and yelled with exertion, the chains breaking under the stress. He then pulled away from the pole and broke the binding around his hands, before ripping off the mask.
“Listen here fuckface: I’ll live my life as authentically as I want without regret. I may have weaknesses, but no one is perfect. I’ll never be perfect, but I’ll try my damndest to get close. Deku didn’t pity me, he saw someone, a friend, in danger. He wanted to help me not because he thought I was weak but because he wanted me to live. I told him to kill himself not too long before that, and he chose to save me. Don’t you dare act like a friend protecting another friend is a sign of weakness,” he screamed out at the top of his lungs. His voice cracked time and time again, but fire raged behind his eyes. “FUCK. YOU.”
“So that means you letting me die was a sign of weakness,” a voice spat, and Bakugou immediately turned to see Denki standing behind him, fury in his features. Bakugou tried to walk towards him, but it was like his feet were glued to the floor.
“No. It’s the villain who killed you. You know for a fact that if I had known it would have hit you, I would have blasted it away. You’re one of my closest friends, and we promised that we would all travel the world once we retired,” Bakugou said softly. Denki was the one who made that plan for the both of them, Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Jirou, and Shinsou. It was a little pact between them all, and even though Bakugou spoke about how he’s not going to retire til he’s old and gray, he still held those plans close to his heart.
“Still, you allowed it to hit me. It still falls on your shoulders.” Bakugou sighed.
“You told me it wasn’t my fault, your parents and practically everyone else said the same thing. But I still feel slightly guilty for it, and I’ll probably carry that guilt for the rest of my life. I really wish I knew it was going to hit you. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't have let you die. But I can't go back. I'm stuck in this shitty ass timeline or whatever where I no longer have one of my best friends. But you know what? I won’t let some cheap knockoff of my best friend play with me like this.” Denki smirked wickedly and a bright flash blinded Bakugou before Denki laid in front of him, clutching at his legs. His legs were bloodied and mangled, and he watched as his friend started to claw at his pants, blood transferring onto his clothing. Bakugou balked at the sight before him, trying to process this before he felt more hands on the back of his legs. He turned behind him to see another Denki behind him. Looking up, he saw numerous versions of Denki crawling at him with their hands. Turning back around he saw the same sight. Chants of “your fault” filled the space, slowly rising in volume. Bakugou couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his breathing turning into hyperventilation. He kept chanting “wake up”, pinching himself, and slapping his face, but he was still stuck in the nightmare. This was all so much and he felt his brain starting to shut down, the stimulants too much for it to handle. His skin started to feel slimy, as if he was covered in spit, and he let out a soft sob, everything now overwhelming.
Bakugou woke up to Akio licking his face with a soft whine. Bakugou wrapped the dog into his arms and let out a soft sob, crying into its fur. Bakugou stayed like this for a while until sleep took him again without warning.
Bakugou woke up from a now dreamless sleep with Akio sleeping on his chest. He took the dog and moved him to his lap. Akio woke up and the movement, and gave Bakugou a quiet “woof”. Bakugou smiled gently, and took Akio with him to the bathroom, resting him on his closed hamper.
It was a small routine he built with Akio. He would tag along when Bakugou was on his morning run, as well as when he went to class. Akio would stay silent in class, seated right by Bakugou’s chair, as well as having him on the sidelines while he trains with his classmates.
After one of their classes, Aizawa gave Bakugou a small list.
“Hey, you should bond more with Akio. Here’s a list of bonding activities for you two. You should do some of them and get acquainted with one another.” Bakugou scoffed and held the letter in his hand, although Aizawa could see Bakugou reading the list as he walked away.
Over the next couple weeks, Bakugou turned Aizawa’s list into a checklist, making sure to try each of the activities that he liked. The first activity on the list was “tactile communication”. Okay, so petting him. Bakugou simply placed a hand on Akio’s forehead, and kept it still not really knowing what to do from here. He doesn’t want to pet him too hard, but petting him too softly would defeat the purpose. Akio simply just looked at Bakugou, just happy to be involved. Grumbling, he took out his phone and sat on the floor, opting to research how to properly pet an animal.
After what felt like hours of research, Bakugou decided to try petting Akio’s side, and Akio clearly liked it, his tail starting to wag. He kept a firm hand, and mirrored his movements on the opposite side, with Akio’s tail starting to speed up at the motion. He doesn’t know how long the two of them stayed like this, but when Bakugou finished, Akio licked his hand and gave him a look that he can akin to adoration. Smiling softly, Bakugou lifted Akio onto his lap, where the dog curled up, slumber soon taking him. The two of them stayed like this for a while, with Bakugou mindlessly looking through his phone, and for the first time in a long time, he finally felt normal.
The next activity listed was Movie Night. The common room was empty, and so Bakugou had the full intent of taking advantage of that. Grabbing a bowl of air popped popcorn, he sat and put on a comedy, wanting to focus on more lighthearted movie subjects for now. The fear of an action movie setting him off is non-zero, and he’s not taking that chance. And he could use the fluff of the comedy to distract him from the chaos that is his current situation. As the movie played, Akio was more focused on Bakugou than the movie itself, and the boy couldn’t help but send a small smile towards the dog when they made eye contact, before giving him a small piece of popcorn. He double and triple checked to make sure that dogs could eat popcorn, and since he air popped them himself, they should be good, although it should be in moderation like most indulgences.
It became a nightly ritual, with this becoming how Bakugou would wind down after the school day. Within days word got out about Bakugou's addition to his routine, and it started with Mina silently plopping herself next to him one night and him letting out a huff just to acknowledge her presence. The next night, it was Sero popping in alongside Mina. Then it was Jirou, then Shinsou, and then Kirishima. Bakugou put up a big show about how they're impeding on his alone time, but he can't lie to himself, knowing he missed them. His isolation is self inflicted, but it's all he knew. Growing up, whenever he was going through it emotionally, he always went into his room and worked out his emotions alone. He internalized everything, letting all of his negative emotions fester until they were too much to handle. He was a shaken soda bottle ready to pop almost always, and sometimes he did pop, lashing out at the people he was closest to.
Bakugou looked at the next item on his list, communal eating. It started with Bakugou putting out Akio’s dinner at the same time, and eating on the floor beside him. Akio clearly enjoyed it, looking at Bakugou with pure adoration in his eyes. It then developed into Bakugou making food with the intent of sharing pieces of it with Akio. The dog was more than excited to share, and Bakugou found Akio extremely adorable in the joy clear in the dog's face, and he honestly could get used to this.
Bakugou also took Akio out on his daily runs. Akio easily kept pace with the explosive hero, and Bakugou was extremely proud that Akio could keep up. After all, if his name means hero, it would also mean that he should be able to keep up with the future number 1 hero, right? It was so weird for his friends to see Bakugou smiling so softly at the dog every time he would come back from his run. Mina swears that she saw Bakugou kiss the dog once, although no one believes her.
Bakugou also tries talking to Akio and it was so awkward at first. He would talk to Akio like he was one of his classmates. He was speaking in complex sentences, like he could understand. He swore up and down that he could, but no one cared. He scolded anyone who would baby talk at Akio.
"He's not a fucking dumbass. Don't talk to him like he's stupid," he would always yell. No one would never listen, and he would threaten to take away dog petting privilege, which was always an effective punishment.
One morning, as Bakugou made his way to class, Aizawa stopped him.
"Bakugou, you're gonna be meeting with your therapist during first period. I'll stay with you after the end of the day so I can catch you up with what you missed," Aizawa said, placing a gentle hand on Bakugou's shoulder. Bakugou nodded and Aizawa walked him to a little office in the corner. "This is my office. They're an external therapist, because this isn't something the school social worker is equipped to deal with at their own admission. I'll cover the cost so see them as many times as you need." Bakugou walked in as Aizawa opened the door, and he saw a woman almost staring into his soul.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Takami, and I'll be your therapist. I specialize in PTSD, especially in heroes and children. Mr. Aizawa reached out to me and gave me the general jist of the circumstances, but I would like to understand more from you." She sat down behind a small desk, and gestured to a chair sitting across from her. Bakugou say down and stared at her warily. Aizawa left them and it was a tense silence until Dr. Takami spoke.
"I know you don't know me, but I want to help you. We can work on building trust over time, but I need you to open up to me so I can get you the help you need." Bakugou sighed and crossed his arms, scooting closer to Dr. Takami. "Let's start with something simple. How is your emotional support dog doing?"
"He's alright. Clingy as all hell. But he's a spit fire. He likes to bark at people who get too close, mainly because they try to pet him. He snarls and bares his teeth, but always softens around me." Dr. Takami raised an eyebrow. "I hate people in my personal space. I only let my friends hug me or stay close to me. Akio makes it so I don't have to say no to people. He hasn't attacked anyone and is nice to my friends so it's all good."
"And your sleep?"
"Better. The nightmares come, but Akio makes them easier to deal with."
"How are you coping without Akio? He's not meant to be the only way of dealing with your trauma," Dr. Takami said, leaning forward. Bakugou coughed and scratched his head. "Okay. So looks like we have to go through coping mechanisms. From what I can tell, your big thing is reliving the moment, so let's focus on grounding." Dr. Takami took Bakugou through a simple exercise, doing a countdown with each sense. She also took him through breathing exercises. "Akio is there to help. Just don't use him as your only form of coping, okay?" Bakugou nodded. "Well, here's a good point to stop. We'll be meeting weekly, unless you want to meet more frequently. Practice the exercises to get used to them, and memorize them. I know that you may not remember it in the heat of the moment, but it's better to know it and just forget it in that instance than to not have it at all. I would also suggest you have some trusted friends and adults aware of these so that they can walk you through it during an episode. I'll send this to your school email so you can send it to whoever you'd like." Bakugou nodded and Dr. Takami sent out an email to Bakugou. He quickly sent it to Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Shinsou and Aizawa.
"Okay, so, with that out of the way, how to do want me to help you," she asked.
"What do you mean," Bakugou huffed out.
"Do you want advice or just a shoulder to cry on in silence? I can also just listen to your pain. I ask this at the top of my sessions."
"Oh, uh, I guess advice." Dr. Takami nodded.
"Feel free at any point to 'switch modes', such as switching to a shoulder to cry on. This is your session. Customize it as you see fit." Bakugou stared at the doctor. Maybe this can be a safe space for him.
"Well, uh, does this whole thing get any easier," he asked.
"Kind of. Trauma is a fickle thing. Some people heal so well it's like the trauma never happened. Some people get worse as time passed. The status of your mental health isn't linear. Even those who I mentioned who fully 'healed' could go right back to square one, or even get worse. So don't focus on that aspect of healing. Focus on you. Acknowledge you'll have set backs and aim to overcome them. And as for therapy being easy, it never it. Right now, I'm some random stranger to you. Even when we start to become familiar with each other, it's still going to be hard for you to open up to me at times. And that's okay. This 'relationship' between us as a therapist and patient is going to have growing pains. But that's something the both of us can get through together." Bakugou nodded as she spoke. She gave a brief pause, before pulling out a notebook. "Try Journaling. Write down your emotions, whatever is plaguing your mind and reflect on it once a week." He took the note book, and the bell rang, signing the end of the session. Both he and Dr. Takami stood up, and she extended a hand to him. He shook it firmly and they both made their way out of the office to continue their day.
That weekend, the group all settled in Bakugou's room, papers in hand.
"I'll just do the breathing exercises. Shitty Hair, you start." Kirishima cleared his throat.
"Okay. I'll do the 4, 7, 8 one," Bakugou nodded and kept eye contact with the redhead. "So breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7, and breathe out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Got it?" Bakugou nodded. "Okay, so let's start. Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4." Bakugou inhaled with each count. "Hold 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7." Bakugou held his breath in time with Kirishima's count. "Out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8." Bakugou exhaled, closing his eyes. Kirishima repeated the exercise over and over again, Bakugou getting into the swing of things. "Alright! Nice job Baku-bro!!! Keep it up!" Kirishima's smile rivaled the sun, and Bakugou won't say it aloud, but he was so lucky to have Kirishima in his life. Kirishima was his rock throughout everything. He's scared to think about how he would have gotten through all of the chaos that is now his life without having Kirishima by his side. Don't get him wrong, everyone else was also huge in his healing, but it was Kirishima who was there when Bakugou first had nightmares, who slept in his room and held his hand that first night. Kirishima is invaluable, and truly irreplaceable to him.
That same night, Bakugou opened his journal and knew what his first entry would be.
Dear Pikachu,
Hey, it's been too long. God, I miss you every minute of every day. It's been so weird with you gone. Nothing is the same. The movies we watched aren't the same, the foods we ate aren't the same, I tried to eat one of your favorite snacks, and it tasted like sand in my mouth. I couldn't even swallow it.
I find myself asking why. Why were you taken from us? I know it isn't my fault, or at least that's what everyone says, but I still wish I could have saved you. What's the point of being a hero if I can't even save the people closest to me? I almost gave up on being a hero, but I know you would absolutely beat my ass if I did. Mina already threatened to do so.
I hope you're at peace. Not even for my conscious, or to alleviate guilt, but because you're a good person Denki. Honestly, anyone who interacts with me regularly outside of mandated periods of time deserve a lot of good things. I'm not the easiest to work with, I know this. But you all were patient enough to get past my walls I so carefully created with ease.
Oh, by the way, I started therapy. The doctor seemed alright. She recommended I start the journal, and I wanted to start it off with something "nice and pleasant" so I can come back to it when I have a really bad time.
I fucking miss you Denki. I'll see you some day.
One afternoon, Aizawa got an email summoning him to Nezu's office, and as he walked in, he could tell the air was tense.
"You need to stop emailing the commission." Aizawa stared at Nezu incredulously.
"We're letting kids die," Aizawa spat out.
"There's nothing I can do! You think I enjoy having to deal with the work it takes to hide the deaths? That I have to constantly lie to parents about how their child died? There's a reason there's a high turnover rate for the principal role. It drains you. That we have to downplay the deaths so the school’s optics are safe-"
"Fuck the school’s optics," Aizawa screamed out. "Denki was a great kid! He didn’t have to die and both of us know it. The defenses around the school haven't been updated or even fixed since we used the school as a stronghold. If we updated the school's security system, he would still be alive." Nezu sighed.
"Aizawa. I want to fix it. I really do. But I can't do anything without the commission's permission."
"Nezu, we both know that the commission won't do a thing to protect these kids. They've failed time and time again. What will it take for them to actually start caring?"
"I don't know. I've begged and I've pleaded with them to do something. I had to frame the dorms as a good PR move before they made them in the first place. I hate that I can't do anything, but I'd much rather it be me who will try and find ways to make the school at least a little safer than a 'yes' man who doesn't care whether the kids live or die being in direct control of their safety. I'm livid that I have to say this, but I'm the lesser evil here." Nezu was right. If someone directly from the commission was in charge, they would only see the kids as numbers, and dollar signs rather than actual human beings. He's seen how much Nezu cares for these kids, holding meeting after meeting to ensure their safety on the staff side of things. If the commission can't put in effort to protect the kids, Nezu made sure that the teachers and staff did. Aizawa sighed, shaking his head.
"I'm tired of this Nezu. It needs to stop."
"I know. I'm tired too. But the only way the commission will care is if their wallets start to hurt. And unless some huge scandal comes out, I doubt we'll see that," Nezu sighed. "But please stop emailing them. They're slowly looking to fire you, and I really don't want to see you go. I need you here with me. There's only so much fighting I can do for you, but play it safe, alright?" Aizawa scowled at Nezu's request before walking out of the room. If a scandal is what it takes for the commission to take care of the kids, he'll give them one they'll never recover from.
One night, Bakugou was in the kitchen when he heard the “Breaking News” jingle sound from the TV in the common room. Bakugou turned to turn off the television, grumbling about people leaving the TV on when he saw the tag line. “UA Covers Student Fatalities.” Bakugou turned up the volume, sitting on the couch. Akio hopped up on the couch, before settling down on Bakugou's lap. The small dog curled up but stared intensely at the young hero, sensing the anxiety and anger creeping through the young hero.
“An anonymous source has exposed a bombshell to numerous media platforms, stating that UA has been lying about how many students have died under their care, as well as their lack of protections for interning students. Several students have died, but the most recent has been Denki Kaminari, who died due to a villain infiltrating the school’s training ground. This isn’t the first time villains have infiltrated UA’s grounds, Denki belonging to the same class that was attacked at the USJ arena, as well as during their training camp, where his best friend Bakugou Katsuki was famously kidnapped by the League of Villains. How many kids have died to UA’s incompetence, and how many more will die before they finally take action,” the anchor said, and Bakugou felt his breath ripped from his chest. Bakugou was filled with grief before he was filled with a righteous fury. He banged on the door of every single classmate, going floor by floor until he gathered everyone into one room. Akio trotted alongside Bakugou, peering up at him periodically.
“Look up UA on your phones. Right now,” he growled out. He didn’t even want to wait for them to ask questions, but confused whispers turned into stunned silence. “People keep telling me that it wasn’t my fault, it was the villains, but now it’s the school’s fault. After we kept getting attacked on our grounds, you would think that they would have more protections in place to make sure it never happens again, but they didn’t. Denki didn’t have to fucking die! He didn’t have to be fucking crushed in a villain attack if the school had actually bolstered the defenses around the training grounds. How many teachers knew? How many of them knew that students were dying and said nothing,” he yelled. He was fuming, his chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes were wild. Aizawa walked in, and walked right up to Bakugou. Before Bakugou could yell, Aizawa leaned in next to his ear.
“I was the anonymous source. I can’t explain here on campus, but I was tired of watching this all happen. I would like all of us to meet elsewhere so I can explain everything,” Aizawa whispered, and he stood back up before Bakugou mouthed the words “my house.” If Aizawa wanted to be discrete, there was something up. Was the school listening to them? Was he not safe? Bakugou knew that everyone had to leave, the school would be on high alert soon, with parents coming in to take their kids out of the school. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were already parents here. Bakugou walked over to Kirishima.
“Everyone needs to come back to my house. Leave in groups from different exits. The school is maybe watching us. Make sure to inform everyone and only the group with me can tell people we’re going to my house. Everyone else needs to make up their own excuses,” he whispered into his friend’s ear. He knew it was a mouthful, but as long as they understood “Come to my house, and tell no one,” nothing else mattered. He moved to whisper into Mina’s ear, then to Shinsou, Sero, Jirou, Deku and Todoroki. Before long, the entire class knew the game plan. Bakugou moved out first with Sero, Mina, Kirishima, Jirou and Shinsou in tow. They were stopped by a staff member, but when asked about where they were going, he simply said was going home, and they were coming along at his mother’s request. It wasn’t the first time that she invited his friends over, so his excuse was plausible. They were able to make their way off campus, taking the bus home. Bakugou wore a face mask, knowing that his face is probably plastered everywhere.
After they got off, they walked through busy streets, UA on everyone’s tongues. Bakugou drowned them out, focusing on making it back home. His friends were silent, dread weighing them down. Bakugou would alway be heavy with sorrow if he wasn’t so filled with anger. He needed to get to the bottom of this.
As Aizawa made his way to Bakugou’s house, all he could think of was the oath he took to himself when he first became a teacher. He took an oath to protect thr children. He swore that he would happily die if it meant his students were alive. Oboro's death really changed him. He never wanted to see any kid go through any like that. But he's constantly reminded of his failure when he constantly had to deal with parents who were asking about their child and if there were any updates regarding their "missing" child. It's so easy for him to be swallowed whole by the negative emotions these feelings invoke. But he can't fail his kids again, not anymore.
As he arrived at his house, he saw his mother waiting at the door. “Your teacher is here. What the fuck is going on Katsuki,” she spat out. She wasn’t angry at him, but at the situation in her lap. She entrusted her kid to UA, and they hurt her son so bad she doesn’t know if he’ll be okay ever again. Bakugou walked past his mother, not wanting to deal with her anger and heads right to Aizawa who's sitting on the couch.
“The rest of the class is gonna be here soon. What you have to say better be real fucking good to make up for what you’ve done,” Bakugou said, venom dripping with every word. Aizawa knew that he deserved all the anger his students felt towards him, and maybe even more.
After all the students filed in, Bakugou requested Momo create a Signal Jammer, with the intent of it blocking out any bugs on their phones. After they confirmed it was active, Aizawa started speaking. "As I told Bakugou, I'm the anonymous source. I was the one who told the press about the school.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. “I became a teacher because I didn’t want Oboro to happen again. I wanted to protect students and make sure that students didn’t die. But then I found out that kids die at UA more than any other school, and I’ve been fighting them for years to get better regulations to protect the kids, so I stayed to protect them the best I can. But to see Denki die, and see you all in pain was the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm tired of comforting parents and then knowing there's only a matter of time before the next set of parents have to come. I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting the school to protect our kids only to be ignored. I’ve seen principal after principal come in, then leave because the weight of the wrongs they see are too heavy to continue to carry, and so they leave. Even with Nezu, the light in his eyes I saw when he first came is now gone. So it definitely comes from higher up, although I don’t know how high up this goes. But I want to make sure that you kids know the truth. I want to finally make sure that Oboro or Denki never happens again.” Aizawa gets on his knees and fully bows in front of the class. “I’m so sorry I failed you, as a hero, as an adult, as a teacher, and as a mentor.” Bakugou walked over to Aizawa and helped him stand up.
“You didn’t fail us. You fought to protect us, and put your job at risk to make sure that we get protected moving forward. You’re the only one who didn’t fail us,” Bakugou said, and Aizawa gave him a wet smile. Mina walked over to him and hugged him, Kirishima following suit. Slowly more and more of the class hugged him, sniffles bouncing through the pile. Bakugou was the last one to join the pile. It took a bit, but the class finally broke away.
“You all should go home. UA is going to be an ugly sight in the morning, between the parents pulling their kids out, bereaved family members who just found out their kid's death was preventable, and the press. I don’t want you all to have cameras in the face while you’re trying to study, or while your parents are unenrolling you. Stay safe, and lay low for a bit. It’s truly been an honor to be your teacher, and whether or not you stay, I am so proud of the people each of you became. I wish you all the best in life,” Aizawa said before leaving. Everyone looked at each other, trying to decompress and process the information, and Bakugou’s mother offered the floor to everyone, but Momo offered her home instead, since there’s a lot more space for everyone to sleep as well as her butler being more than capable to cook a meal for 20-something people. She sent a text, and within the hour, a small bus pulled up in front of the Bakugou home, the class piling in. Sero, Mina, Shinsou, Jirou and Kirishima stayed behind, choosing to sleep over at Bakugou’s place.
Before they knew it, the morning came, and Bakugou turned on the news to see a massive crowd of people swarming in front of the school. The newscasters were picking up the angry yells coming from the crowd. There was a visible line of parents who were waiting to get in, and Bakugou could only laugh seeing the school face the consequences of their actions. The newscaster mentioned the school has a planned press conference. He wondered what sad excuses the school would make to try and salvage their relationship with the public. Whatever it would be, there’s no way it would make up for the lives they’ve ruined. He changed the channel to see a pair of familiar faces on the screen.
“Denki didn’t have to die! Our baby didn’t have to die! We didn’t have to cremate our only child but we had to due to the school’s incompetence! We lost a piece of ourselves, but know this could have been prevented, that our son could still be here with us if it wasn’t for the school’s incompetence makes me furious,” Denki’s mother said. Her voice was shaking with anger, her face red with anger. Her husband rubbed her back reassuringly, and he may seem calm but Bakugou could easily spot the rage swimming behind his eyes.
"The school isn't going to fucking get away with this," Bakugou hissed. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to be face to face with Kirishima. Kirishima had a look of pure anger on his face.
"We're gonna make sure they pay for this. All of us," he said, and confirmations sounded around the room.
Meanwhile at UA, Nezu pulled Aizawa to the side before they were set to go on stage for the press conference.
"I hope you're happy with your choice." Aizawa raised an eyebrow at Nezu's words.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your decision in going rogue will have consequences, and ones you won't like. So I hope it's worth it." Aizawa didn't detect any malice in Nezu's words. "It's been an honor working with you."
"You're leaving?" Aizawa was in shock.
"They needed a scapegoat. They don't know the leak, so it'll fall to me as the principal. At least I no longer have to shoulder the burden of being unable to save the kids."
"Do you think this'll be enough to get the commission to step up?"
"This alone? No. But I fully believe that Bakugou and his friends will be the driving force to make that change."
"But they're just kids, that's a lot to put on them," Aizawa sighed out.
"I know. But we as adults were never able to make a difference so maybe hearing it from Bakugou will be the fire under them that causes them to move. That boy was made for TV you know. He's loud and in your face. His natural personality would be enough to make sure that the commission won't be able to live it down as long as he's vocal." Aizawa sighed. "I really do hope this is enough. Good luck Aizawa. Lay low, and stay safe."
"And what about you Nezu?" Nezu chuckled.
"Thanks for the concern friend, but I'll be fine. I'll be in hiding for a while till the heat slightly dies down, and I'll move out of the country and start fresh." Nezu stuck out his hand and Aizawa shook it. "See you again some day." The both of them moved to the stage, where they were blinded by lights from camera flashes. Aizawa didn't even sit down, standing behind the chair with a placard with his name engraved into it positioned on the table right in front of it. Nezu sat down and looked forward.
"I'm here regarding the allegations regarding UA's lack of protection for our students. I firstly want to apologize for the pain my negligence has caused both directly and indirectly. You as parents trusted my staff and I to protect your children and keep them safe while they were enrolled into our school, and on our grounds, and I failed. The kids deserve better, which is why I'm stepping down." A cacophony of questions filled the room and he internally sighed. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to making this announcement, but the pressure from the higher-ups left him no choice. He was the fall guy, the scapegoat, and he hates this. The conversation he had earlier replayed his mind.
"Nezu. I'm sorry, but we need you to resign," a feminine voice stated on the phone. He was stunned, his brain trying to process this information. He looked around his office, thinking that this will be the last time he'll be sitting at his desk.
"Madame President, what are you talking about?"
"With you taking the fall, the focus and heat on us will shift to you, and the anger towards us will eventually fade away. It's sad that you have to take the blame, but it's for the greater good." The greater good of their wallet. "We'll compensate you handsomely, and help you in hiding til the heat dies down, and moving you out of the country with a new identity so you can restart." Nezu sighed. It's not like he has a choice. He knows what the commission will do if he goes against them, and he very much would like to live.
"Okay. I'll resign during the press conference."
"Thank you Nezu, it's been a pleasure working with you, and good luck moving forward." The phone call ended and he placed his hands into his palms before quietly sobbing.
Nezu left without taking questions, his obligation to the school and the commission done and over with.
What happened to him? He's an educator who was focused on his kids, and allowing them to thrive. When he got the offer at UA, he was excited to start working with the school. It was a dream come true, although the dream easily became a nightmare. He was told to either help them hide the deaths, or quit, and he couldn’t imagine quitting. The system failed these kids, and Nezu wanted to help the kids no longer be victimized by the system wherever he could. One of these days, this blatant disregard for student safety will stop. It has to.
As he went backstage, Bakugou stood there, staring him down.
"Aizawa told me you tried to fix things," he said gruffly.
"Yes I did. I begged the financial department to fix things, but I was always told it's not in the budget. I'm tired of kids getting hurt and dying all the time. You're kids! You have your whole lives ahead of you, and it's getting exhausting constantly seeing it happen and feeling powerless to stop it."
"Thank you for sticking up for us Nezu." Nezu gave Bakugou a soft smile. It took load off his chest that Bakugou didn't hate his guts like most of his kids did. He's taking the fall for something that he actively tried to stop and is powerless to defend himself or his kids.
"You're a strong and smart kid. You can make sure this never happens again." These were his final words to his final student, walking out of the venue. The commission can fucking rot for all he cares. They deserve the reckoning that's coming, and do much more. Nezu can't wait to watch them burn.
Back in the venue, Aizawa walks up to Bakugou and pats him on the back.
"The backstage area isn't bugged. I checked numerous times," Aizawa said, moving to sit on the floor. "I hope you're ready for the storm that's coming. I know I'm not." Bakugou sat down next to his ex-teacher.
"I have good people on my side, so I'll be okay." Aizawa nodded, and they both sat there in a comfortable silence for a while, until Bakugou stood up. "I'll see you around."
From that day on, Bakugou was scheduling press conferences on top of media appearances, the fire in his heart burning brighter than ever. The commission felt the heat, and needed to do something and fast before they burn from the intensity.
At a morning talk show, Bakugou hyped himself up in the green room. The usual suspects were all gathered there, drowning him with encouragement.
"Baku-bro, I'll be on the sidelines with Akio in case you need us. Answer whatever questions you feel comfortable answering. If they ask you something that you don't wanna answer, don't. Tell them to move on, give them a dumb answer, whatever you want," Kirishima said, patting him on his back and smiling brightly. Bakugou scoffed and gave him a smirk.
"Go give 'em hell," Mina cheered. Bakugou walked out and got set up with his mic. He was ushered out to the stage the sound of cheering, it getting louder with each step he took. As he stood on the stage, the host tried to hug him, but Bakugou backed away, forcefully sticking his hand out for a handshake. When will these hosts learn not to touch him? The host shook his hand, and they broke to sit on their chairs.
"Hi Bakugou, it's nice to have you here," the host cheerily stated.
"Thank you for having me."
"You've been real busy lately, with this huge press tour," the host said, giving a sickly sweet smile. Bakugou could sense the malice behind it. She was so prim and proper, her nails clearly expensive, and her outfit was easily the cost of numerous houses. Her hair was perfectly coiled and she looked like a doll, and it sickened him.
"Yeah, well, I want to keep the incident with UA fresh in people's minds. We can't afford to forget it. We forget it and their deaths will mean nothing. Everything will continue as 'normal' and kids will go back to dying needlessly."
"So you're saying that it's all UA's fault," the host asked, clearly asking for clarification.
"Yes. Even in the case of Denki, where he was killed by a villain, it's still partially UAs fault because the villain wouldn't haven't been able to get on the campus if UA's security wasn't lacking."
"So if it was partially UA's fault for Denki's death, isn't it also your fault," the host asked, and Bakugou's blood ran cold. The crowd let out a soft "oooh" in response..
"What," Bakugou choked out, his heart rate starting to spike.
"Well, you're blaming UA. But you could have pushed the rubble out of the way. So isn't Denki’s death partially your fault," the host observed. Bakugou started to shake, and Kirishima ran onto the stage, placing Akio on his friend's lap. Bakugou started to hyperventilate and Kirishima took him through breathing exercises, simultaneously ripping off Bakugou's mic and throwing it to the side. The audience was dead silent, and the host looked awkward as they watched the scene unfold in front of her. The rest of the friend group ran out and surrounded Bakugou, to hide his breakdown from everyone's view. Mina stomped over to the host.
"How dare you! Do you know what you're saying?! Bakugou has been through hell and back! You don't think Bakugou hasn't blamed himself this whole time?! You sit here as a whole adult saying something like that to a child who witnessed their own friend died?!" The crowd murmured and started to boo, and the host attempted to calm down the audience, but the boos got louder. The group got up and helped Bakugou out of the studio.
After he got home, he got a call from Dr. Takami.
"Hey, how are you feeling right now," she asked.
"Like shit."
"That's understandable with what happened. I'm sorry that happened to you and on live television. I don’t have any appointments, so I can give you a quick session," she suggested.
"That would be great."
"Okay then. I'm glad you're using your exercises. I saw Kirishima went through them with you," she stated.
"Yeah. I appreciated it."
"Well, you understand it isn't your fault, right?"
"Yeah. I think she was paid by the commission to say that."
"What makes you think that," she asked.
"Because this was out of the blue. The commission felt public pressure mounting and they wanted to discredit me to alleviate some of it," he stated.
"Well, I know it had the opposite reaction. The support for you has skyrocketed, people admiring your bravery, and the strength you've shown in the face of all the things you've gone through. But no one is expressing pity, or insinuating you're weak. And I'll reiterate, you're such a strong kid, and you deserve none of the things that have come to you. You should have had a normal and trauma free childhood, but unfortunately not everyone can have that. So just keep your head up, alright?"
They spoke for two hours before she hung up, and once Bakugou was free of her, his mother knocked on his bedroom door.
"Katsuki, I don't really know how yo comfort you, but let me try my best," came from the opposite side of the door. He opened the door to see his mother standing outside. She looked almost sheepish, and rather than question it, he moved to the side and allowed her to enter his room. Moving to sit on his bed, they kept eye contact and sat down next to each other.
"Katsuki, you truly are the best Bakugou. I haven't been the beat mother at all, and I'm ready to acknowledge that. But seeing my baby in pain hurt more than anything else. I want to help. I want to find ways to make you feel more comfortable, because your emotions matter," Mitsuki sighed out. She knew she was lacking as a parent for some time, but her son isn't going to her at all in one of his darkest moments!. He hasn't shown her any emotions in a private setting, shutting her out mentally.
"Your father doesn't know I'm apologizing, but I love you Katsuki. You're my kid. I wanna protect you from all the bad things, even though you're becoming a hero. I want you to be be happy, healthy and secure," she continued, looking at Bakugou with tears in her eyes.
"Would you like you go to family therapy," Bakugou asked, and Mitsuki shook her head.
"Not right now. You have so much on your plate, and I don't wanna impede. Focus of healing yourself, and we'll focus on healing the family when you get to a good and comfortable point in your healing." Bakugou nodded, and Mitsuki stood up. "Please remember that you're loved by not just your father and I. You have a whole found family that you hang out with from your school. We have diy projects you guys can do so you aren't sitting in the house bored." Bakugou rolled his eyes, but smiled at his mother. She thinks this is the first time on a long time she's seen Bakugou smiling genuinely and she wants to do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her son’s face. She walked out, but not without giving Bakugou a small kiss on his forehead, which he grumpily accepted, and they both carried on with their days. Bakugou moved to write in his journal.
Hey Pika,
Today was fucking hard. Some chick on TV was trying to make it look like it was my fault you died. Can you fucking believe that?! It's not fair. She's a grown ass adult trying to bully me!! I think the commission paid her to say this. They want to discredit me and by association my claims, so that the backlash they face is lessened. But no, fuck them. I want them to suffer.
Oh, by the way, I appreciate you coming into my dreams lately. It's been super helpful. It helps me get back to a sense of normalcy. Although if you keep playing pranks, I'll fight you. I mean it.
For the next week, Bakugou was forced to go on a social media cleanse. Mina deleted all of the apps and Bakugou stayed at home, only going out when his friends picked him up.
As for the host? She was fired within an hour of the show's airing, and her show was quickly canceled. She didn't even offer an apology, her social media now silent.
For the next month, Bakugou was still doing his press tour, although it was a lot lighter than before. The questions were now screened, and if they veered off script even once, Bakugou would just leave mid interview.
It was so weird became now his face was plastered everywhere. He was constants getting recognized in public, and at first if was cool, but when he's starting to feel it encroach on his daily life, he's had enough. Rather than be kind to his fans, he would be mean, hoping they would get the hint that they aren't wanted. And it worked, kinda. His mean words and behaviors got so many people to leave him alone, but it also got people to find that behavior endearing. Those people, he thinks, are the worst. He'll tell them to fuck off, and they'll giggle and stay. He doesn’t know how many times he got them arrested for stalking, but it's starting to really get to him. Is what he's doing worth such flagrant disrespect of his personal boundaries and space? Unfortunately. Bakugou’s finds the answer to this is yes. So he holds that mindset close to his chest to remind him why he keeps going.
One morning, Bakugou was awoken to his phone's notifications going off non-stop. He opened his phone to see so many links being sent. He opened one of them to see UA in the news yet again, but for a different reason. He ran to his living room and turned on his TV, changing it to the nearing news channel.
"Thank you for joining us this morning, we have breaking news regarding UA. According to an anonymous source, the Public Safety Hero Commission was the reason behind the lack of safety at UA. Numerous news organizations were handed documents showing that they ignored pleas from high ranking UA staff, including formerly disgraced principal Nezu. With these documents, it looks like the UA staff and faculty were making efforts to protect the children while the Commission did nothing to make sure the kids are safe. We'll keep you updated with new information as we get it." Bakugou stood there in silence as Akio trotted over and rubbed himself against his legs. Bakugou picked the dog up and took him to his room, sobbing into him and holding him firmly.
Meanwhile, Aizawa sat in his office watching the news. His phone rang, and he picked it up, giving a gruff greeting.
"Aizawa, thank you for giving me courage. I wouldn't have done what I did without you. If the fire under them wasn't scalding before, it definitely is now." Aizawa was shocked at the sound of Nezu's voice, but before he could say anything, Nezu hung up. Aizawa sat there, processing.
UA tried to hold a press conference, but there was nothing they could really say to make people trust them again. To Bakugou, this felt like the fall of heroes after the Paranormal Liberation War. It was terrifying, because would society crumble yet again?
Aizawa called Bakugou to inform him of the press conference. The teacher offered Bakugou the chance to speak at his own press conference. Bakugou agreed, calling his friends to join him.
As he sat down at the table for the press conference, he sighed.
"Please keep your trust in the heroes, during this time. None of them knew. It'll be ridiculous for you all to attack heroes and hate them for something that isn't their fault. Direct your anger towards the executives at the commission. They're the bastards that let Denki die," Bakugou stated. The reporters asked questions, and Bakugou answered them briskly.
After the conference, Bakugou made his way home, emotionally drained. A small chirp sounded from his phone and he opened it to see a small text from Dr. Takami expressing her pride in him for going through the press conference.
As he opened his door, a couple of people in suits were waiting on his couch. He counted only three, all sitting on the same couch. Bakugou quickly turned his phone's recorder on, thankful that he had headphones on with an exposed mic.
"Bakugou Katsuki, we applaud you. You managed to turn the public against us. That's not an easy feat," the one in the middle said. So they're the leader, he noted to himself.
"The fuck do you want from me," Bakugou growled out.
"We want you to rescind your statements, and stop your tour of slander."
"Slander?! You all knew what was going on, and did nothing to stop it! In fact, you refused to do anything to stop it. Denki's blood, and every student who died due to your negligence's blood are on your hands. I hope that they haunt your dreams and that none of you find peace again."
"You don't want to get into a media war with us. You'll lose. We have the money, the resources and the connections to absolutely ruin you."
"Look at you, a grown ass adult threatening a kid. Are you and the commission really that scared of my voice? We're already in a media war. You started this when you had that host blame me on TV. But the funny thing is, you're losing the war. So your resources and shit mean nothing to me. But you're welcome to try." The person snarled and stood up, the others getting up.
"You'll regret this Bakugou," they stated.
"So will you." They stormed out of the house, and Mitsuki ran to hug Bakugou.
"You okay," she asked.
"Yeah, I'm just peachy," he spay out.
"We're gonna make sure they don't get away with this. How dare they threaten a child?! How dare they threaten my child? I want to make them regret every aspect of their lives," Mitsuki spat out. Bakugou gave his mother a feral smile.
"Of course, we'll give them hell. We're the Bakugous after all." Mitsuki’s grin resembled that of her son's afterhisstatement. .
"We'll make them regret it," Mitsuki spat out.
And regret it they did. Bakugou sent the recording to as many news stations as he possibly could. The news spread like wildfire. Protests sparked all over Japan, calling for the dissolution of the commission. By the end of the day, numerous high ranking officials had resigned, hitting about 16. By the end of the week, that number hit 80, including all of the chief officers. Pride filled his chest seeing these numbers. Bakugou knew this was only the start.
For months the commission's leadership was constantly changing, and after 6 months, the commission was fully disbanded, the hero rankings not mattering as much, simply devolving into a popularity contest. There were so many things to be said about that, but no really cared, the rankings turned into beauty pagent. UA's leadership also took a huge turn as well, hiring a team dedicated to student safety, hiring teachers and high ranking officers to make sure students are safe and protected. Countless amounts of funding that was liquidated from the now defunct commission was sent to UA for the upgrading and repairing of their security system.
Not before long, the school year started again, and Bakugou sat in the wings of a stage in front of UA. The class of 3-A stood around him. He was due to give a speech shortly, but opted to write a journal entry.
Hey Denks,
God this has all been a lot. We're in our 3rd year, and there's little changes in so many aspects of our lives. The school put a bunch of charging stations around the campus and called them "Chargebolt stations". Corny, I know. But it's hysterical, and you would have loved to see it.
UA looks super pretty now. They spent I don’t even know how much on renovations. The new administration said "no one has to die again" and meant it, and that's a relief. The new administration genuinely cares about student safety and well-being. They hired a bunch of therapists too, so that they could help students adjust to the massive changes that happened.
For me, I'm still the same Bakugou. I really do think you and Akio would get along well. He seems to like bothering me the same way you did, late at night. But I can sleep at night comfortably because of him.
Your parents constantly drop by my place to check on me. Our parents are now really good friends with each other, going out almost bi-daily. It's fucking weird, not gonna lie, but its also nice. It feels like a part of you is here with me also complaining about it.
Right now, I'm waiting to give a speech at the grand reopening of UA. I told you I did all those press tours, and people are saying that the renovations are because of me, so they tagged me to give the opening remarks. But to be honest, it's not fully my work. Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and Shinsou also helped me out greatly. But the biggest factor is you. I know you're cheering for me and that's what keeps me going. I imagine you're giving me an encouraging speech when I want to give up, and giving me that kind words that I needed. You're truly amazing Denks.
Bakugou closed his journal and moved to when the exit, hyping himself up for the speech. Akio is beside him, also excited, although it more because he got a new leash. His name is called, and he walks up the podium..
"Thank you for showing up. It took so much to get to this point, but I'm glad we're here. UA is safer, and we can make sure that Denki's death serves as a lesson in student safety. I pushed for this change, but if it wasn’t for the amazing people I get to call my friends,I wouldn't have gotten as far as I did. Their words of encouragement did more for me than they could ever know. It's a lot for us to have gone through, but for all of us involved, we have nowhere to go but up," he spoke into the podium. It's so weird when he has to sound well spoken, and not aggressive because people wouldn't want to listen to him and his message if he spoke and behave like he normally did. He felt a couple hands snake around him, and he turned to see Denki's parents behind him, holding him tightly. His own parents joined in the hug, and it quickly devolved into a cuddle puddle with Mina and the others also joining the group hug. It almost felt suffocating, but he didn't mind at all, focused on the feeling of his friends and family all together. The bright sun shone down on him, and in its warmth, he felt like Denki was hugging him, comforting him, and for the first time in a long time, Bakugou finally felt like everything would be alright.
Tags: First meetings, Jedi bullshit, strangers to friends, younglings, training.
WC: 1.9k
Summary: One day, you make a ball float from the from shelf down into your hands. The next day two men pick you up and tell you that you can use something called the Force. You're taken away from everything you've ever known, and meet another youngling named Nemuri.
Everything changes.
A long, long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away…
War looms on the horizon!
A new villain is stepping forward from the shadows. The mysterious ALL FOR ONE and his apprentice have a spy in the JEDI ORDER to learn their battle plans and sow discontent. The ORDER and the REPUBLIC scramble not only to find who has betrayed them, but ensure as well that evil will not overtake them.
Two JEDI are faced with a choice: to carry on in the light or fall into darkness?
The very first memory you have is holding your hand out to make the toy on the shelf fall off and fly into your hands. If you concentrate very hard you can remember that brief, shining moment; the joy you felt with your prize solidly in your hands. It’s the moment your life changed forever, the cataclysmic moment that sent you on the path you walk.
The second memory you have is the moment right after that- when your mother started screaming. You can feel her terror through the Force even to this day. This, this you remember it all: the way she flinched away from you for the next week, the way her hands shook when she had to touch you, the way she almost sobbed with relief when two men showed up at your family’s door, telling her not to worry.
They would take you, the men said. This is a good thing, they told your mother, told you. Strong with the Force, they called you. An anomaly; a miracle.
When they took you, you remember them telling her not to fear. If any of your siblings showed the same abilities, they would be back.
You remember the shake of her head, before the sound of a slamming door.
It’s cold in the shuttle when you wake up, though someone has haphazardly thrown a blanket over you. Across from you sits a blonde man- an impossibly large blonde man, wearing robes in various shades of beige. He nearly blends into the shuttle wall. When he smiles at you, it’s warm like the sun. You think back to the name he gave your mother- Master Toshinori (and Master Todoroki, just as large but never stepped over the threshold of your home).
“You’re awake!” He says, his voice almost too loud for the confined space. It earns him a shout from the cockpit. When he continues his voice is lowered, almost a whisper, “You’re awake! Enji was concerned that you wouldn’t.”
You don’t answer him. You frown instead. It doesn’t seem to bother Master Toshinori.
“We’ll be landing soon, at the temple,” He explains, checking the time, “That’s where you’ll stay from now on, with the other younglings.” More frowning. He explains to you more and more, and more and more you worry. You’ve never been more than fifty feet from your front door. The only people you know are your family.
And now Master Toshinori tells you to forget them all.
The frown doesn’t leave your face.
The temple is large, and despite landing on a tower for it, there’s only buildings as far as you can see. Every color from your old planet- gone, drowned now in a sea of chrome and silver and black.
There’s someone in your room when they take you there- another girl who looks your age, eyes as big as yours, her own mouth frowning as well.
“Nemuri,” Master Enji says, “this is your new roommate. Behave.” Just like that the men are gone. You’re left alone with this stranger who looks at you like she might hate you already. She gives you another long look, and stars you didn’t know another child could look that angry. She turns away from you without saying anything.
You wonder what your mother made for dinner.
The first week of lessons happens, and you’ve yet to be able to replicate making something fly to you.
Nothing you do seems to help you relax enough into being able to use the Force. Every day for a week you stand in front of a class, hand thrown out in front of you, face screwed up in concentration as you try and reach for that well of power in you. Nothing happens the first day, to be expected Master Toshinori says, you must be nervous.
And then nothing happens on the second day, the third, a week passes, a month. You wonder if they’re whispering about you- the Masters, the students, you even wonder about the droids. Every failure causes another crack within you, the seeds of self doubt blooming into a field of self loathing.
“You don’t belong here, do you?” Nemuri whispers to you one night, in the darkest part of it. She doesn’t even sound judgemental, just sad, the pity in her voice evident.
It makes the whole thing worse.
“You have to let go of the past,” Master Toshinori tells you. He tells you this a lot.
He’s taken you under his wing now- this mountain of a man who smiles at you everyday, even on the days you cry and fail and tell him you want to go home. It’s not even a training room but an artefacts room- Master Toshinori had seen your interest piqued and taken you to it, thinking it might help relax you into using the Force.
“Kill it, if you have to,” Another voice says, reminding you that the two of you aren’t alone in the room. Master Todoroki is with you, with Nemuri not far behind him. Her eyes follow you as you pace, trying to look within yourself for the Force, the blue of them cold as ice. It’s hard to block it out.
You close your eyes, trying hard to block them all out when there’s a simultaneous beeping from the belts of the Masters. Cracking one eye open you watch them both check the message they’ve received from the council and share a glance together before nodding.
“Master Nezu calls for us,” Master Toshinori says, “We will be back soon. Wait here for us, younglings.”
“Don’t touch anything,” Master Enji says, not looking at either of you as they leave. Your eye closes back down, and you stand stock still, trying to relax your muscles one by one, starting from your feet up. You think about the legacy that surrounds you, the history- a thousand generations of Jedi have walked these same halls, their hands touch the artefacts that line the room. They didn’t read the books on the shelves- they wrote them. You’re able to relax to your knees before Nemuri talks.
“There’s no use trying,” Her voice comes from right in front of you, shocking your eyes open. You don’t say anything, scowling at her as you turn away. The moment of pity she gave you in, all those days ago, has passed from her completely. You can hear the soft rustle of her robes as she walks around you, trying to get back into your face. “Seriously, I hear my Master tell yours all the time.”
That’s not true, you want to insist to her. But you can’t. Her words echo the fears that live in your heart. That there was a mistake in bringing you here, that making that toy fly to you was just a fluke.
“It’s only a matter of time before they send you back home,” She says, her voice sing song, but its the thought of returning that gets to you. You think of your mothers face, of the sobs, of the slam of the door behind you. There’s no returning to your home. You don’t have a home, not really, not anymore. That’s what Master Toshinori tells you. The galaxy is your home. You should remind Nemuri of the teachings, like a good youngling.
“Shut up,” is what comes out instead, hissed out of you as your fists clench at your sides. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” You know that’s where Nemuri falters- you’ve seen her stay awake reading, going over books and tests from the older students, trying to know more than every other person they know, trying to make herself important.
A flash of pain washes over Nemuri’s face before it’s gone, replaced by anger. She shoves you, the most violent thing that’s ever been done to you. It knocks you back slightly, and your own hands come up, ready to retaliate but you remember the lessons that have been drilled into you over the past weeks and take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
“Hey!” Nemuri shoves you again, lighter this time, getting your attention, “Don’t brush me off. Maybe this is why you can’t connect with the Force. This is why they’re going to send you home. You’re not supposed to ignore your emotions- you’re supposed to use them!” It takes all of your concentration not to reply to her that you don’t concentrate on using the Force.
And, in the corner of the room, a vase cracks in half.
It feels like your entire heart shatters with it, the doubts you’ve stuffed down inside of yourself spill to the surface, sending tears streaking down your cheeks. Panic wells in your chest, the thoughts of your master returning to see that you used the Force- but used it and broke something. If he was on the fence about sending you home then, your fate is surely sealed now. There’s no way they will let you stay after this.
It sends you to the ground, the thought of returning to a home that’s no longer yours, shoulders shaking as you try to reign in your emotions. You can feel Nemuri hovering near you, hesitant to get too close to your crying figure. If you were in a better state of mind, you might notice how you can feel her through the Force, but for now you can simply feel her hand come to rest on your back in an act of comfort.
Nemuri doesn’t speak, rubbing at your back until you stop crying. She stays down on the ground with you, not speaking but projecting her apologetic nature through the Force, trying to say things silently. It takes a few more minutes until your terror has subsided enough to let the other girl speak.
“I-” She starts, looking into your eyes, before being cut off by the sound of the door opening. The two of you jump to a standing position, and you’re surprised that Master Toshinori can’t hear your heart pounding from the door. Master Toshinori seems oblivious to your discomfort as he strolls back in, and for a moment you wonder if he hasn’t noticed; maybe, just maybe, you can get away with it.
But Master Enji pauses in the doorway, his keen eyes looking over his pupil, and then to your guilty face, and then to the vase in the corner. His shoulders stiffen, just enough to let you know that you’re in deep trouble.
“I did it.” Nemuri says, without a moment’s hesitation, taking a small step forward- placing herself between you and Master Enji. “I was trying to show off, Master. I broke the vase.” Maybe you passed out when the vase broke, because clearly you’re dreaming. A hallucination, maybe? You’ve heard from others in the temple that the Force can be used to manipulate people.
Because you know, without a single doubt, that there is no way in the world that Nemuri is taking the fall for you- without you asking. She’d only just comforted you- to stop you from crying the tears she caused. Maybe this is another cruel joke of hers, too, you think.
Master Enji looks from Nemuri, to you, to the vase and simply sighs.
“Don’t let Nezu see what you’ve done,” He tells the two of you, turning back out the door. Nemuri makes to follow him immediately, but you hesitate, torn between waiting for your Master (who is now examining the vase with a frown) or catching up with them. Nemuri makes the choice for you.
“Come on,” she whispers, reaching back to link her fingers with yours, tugging you along with her. Her hand is warm in yours; comforting and relaxing. You let her tug you forward, into the light.
For the rest of your training, you stay one step behind Nemuri.
Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader, Eijirou Kirishima x fem!reader, Yosetsu Awase x fem!reader
Alien Invasion, Apocalypse AU, Body Snatcher AU
Warnings: Some Dark Content, Cheating, breeding, dubcon/noncon, tiny smidge of monsterfucking, mentions of sex pollen, guns, violence, hand job, oral sex (both male and female receiving), love triangle, angst but a happy ending, poly relationship, mentions and contemplation of suicide, pregnancy, talk of child loss, some talk of infertility, minor character death
Expected Word Count:~25-27K
Summary: Invaders from outer space seeking to take over the human race…
After a devious sexual encounter between your alien possessed husband and his best friend, you’re on the run searching for any signs of survivors and a Resistance to the foreign invaders. Determined to keep his promise to his best friend to protect you and keep you alive, Katsuki Bakugou treks with you through the countryside in hopes of a place where you can live safely. With so much alone time between the two of you on the forest paths, emotions, both old and new are brought to light as you navigate through what it means to do whatever it takes to stay alive.
art for this fic by @insomniiyac
a/n: Hello! Welcome to my @mybigbangacademia Fic! This fic is meant to serve as a part two to What Once Was Mine, which is a fic I wrote back in October of last year! You will not need to have read that part to understand this one but you’ll probably get more out of it if you do read the first part. 😌Anywhoo I am so so very excited to finally be able to share what I’ve been working on and so very very excited to share that Chai will be creating a partner art piece to this fic! She is wonderfully talented and sweet and amazing and if you haven’t seen any of her art go to her blog right now and check it out. Please mind all the warnings in this one. This one of the darker fics I’m writing. I hope you all enjoy! 💖
Excerpt: Was that your voice? You can hardly believe it. Why would you be begging Katsuki to fuck you? Where is Eiji? Wasn’t he just here with you?
Katsuki's voice is strained, wracked with pain—or pleasure you can’t really tell. But he’s stuttering over his words and fucking you deeper and sloppier as his words begin to slur.
Mine… all mine right now… fuck…want to fill you up… have my babies…
No. No, that can’t be right. You’re with Eijirou. He’s your husband. Where is he? Why isn’t he here?
Katsuki leans down to kiss you and you accept it willingly, curling your fingers into his hair and lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. He shudders, pushes into you as deep as he can go and spills a heavy load of cum into your waiting cunt.
You’re right on the cusp of your release, staggering on the edge ready to plunge; it feels right, like everything you’ve been questioning has been for naught. The tiny voice spewing questions about your husband in the back of your mind gets quieter and quieter until…
⇢ warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mating bites, scenting, knotting, a/b/o-typical animalistic traits, hunting and butchering of animals for consumption, villain-adjacent endeavor and hawks
⇢ tags: alpha bakugo x omega reader, slow burn, aged up characters, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f!receiving)
⇢ art: by the incredible @king-bito
✸ part of my big bang academia - see other incredible works here! ✸
⇢ summary:
In the Kingdom of Eldur, you’re an anomaly, an omega born to a society of betas, and treated poorly for it. During a celebration of the long-standing peace between the Kingdom of Eldur and the distant mountain tribes where alphas and omegas live freely, you meet their leader, Katsuki Bakugo. He is strong and wild and bares his teeth - an alpha’s alpha, who finds the forceful suppression of your omegan nature reprehensible.
When the King of Eldur rejects your request to accompany him to live with the among mountain tribesfolk, he makes you an offer that stops you in your tracks. A mating bite, knowing that even the King has no authority to sever such a bond. You must decide, then, what you will do - stay and languish within the safe walls of Eldur or trust yourself to an alpha with pointed fangs and sharp temper, whose scent awakens something inside you that’s laid dormant for years.
The welcome feast is timed with the setting of the sun and the sheer amount of food prepared is more than your mind can nearly comprehend.
Every member of the castle staff is in motion - the kitchens and the launders and the halls between bustling with people rushing to and fro as the foreign procession approaches the gates of Eldur.
You’ve never seen this much activity in your years at the castle. Never worked up a sweat, rubbing the flat of your palm against your queasy stomach to settle it, flitting from task to task in a frantic communal effort to have everything ready in time.
The castle must be pristine. In perfect working order and polished until it glistens and shines, for today marks Friður, a day that comes only once every fifty years.
You’ve heard tale of the Friður’s before your time, of the lavish feasts and the sweeping balls, and you can’t help but ache with some buried tension as you’re swept up in the chaos and commotion of preparations.
Today, the king of the wild people descends from his place in the far western mountains and travels over the grassy plains to the shining Kingdom of Eldur. He and his horde will arrive at the city gates and request entry, to honor a hundreds year old treaty that put an end, finally, to the bloodshed between the wild people and your homeland.
Friður is largely ceremonial, a nicety put on to honor those who perished in the war, but the details are important nonetheless. As a child of Eldur, you’ve been raised on tales of the savagery of the wild people. Of how they live in the mountains in primitive shelters and hunt for their food with their bare hands and their fanged teeth.
It’s difficult to know what they’ll expect while visiting Eldur, but it’s important to avoid offense at any cost. As essential as the peace between Eldur and the mountain people is, it remains tenuous, and the goal of every member of the castle staff, as well as the royal king and his commanders, is that the affair passes quickly and without incident.
Whereupon the wild people will retreat to their mountain and Eldur can return to enforcing its borders - and the strict beta-only law that’s ruled the Kingdom for a thousand years.
You end up in the kitchen, kneading bread at a packed table with a fevered pace. Flour coating your hands and your dress as you roll the soft dough against the hard surface before you. Leaning your weight into it as you roll and twist, roll and twist, and bumping elbows with the closest thing you have to a friend, Gida.
Your bones feel as if they’re made of lead, your stomach painfully empty save for your morning tea, and conversation with Gida is a welcome distraction from the exhaustion rooted down deep in your marrow.
She speaks as she kneads, her thoughts spilling freely from her in the bustling commotion of the crowded kitchen, needing little more than an occasional nod or grunt from you to let her mind run wild and spill out from between her lips.
“He’ll be an alpha, don’t you think?” she asks. Her tone is a little scandalous, inappropriate for a kitchen maid, and a man brushing past with his arms wrapped around a bursting sack of potatoes raises his brows at it before he disappears into the throng of people.
Gida continues on, none the wiser. “He must be - that’s how they live up in the mountains, right?”
You bob your head to either side on a soft huff, grabbing a sprinkle more of flour for your work surface. “How should I know what they’re like?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “That’s what they say, anyway. The alphas rule everything and the omegas…” She pauses for a moment, catching herself, before continuing on. “The omegas bow to them because they’re born to be subservient and…submissive.” She can’t help the wrinkle of her nose at that last bit.
Though you have no way of knowing for sure and neither does she, it is indeed what they say.
All you’ve ever heard since you were old enough to remember such things was that all of the advances and comforts enjoyed by the citizens of Eldur were accomplished solely for the Kingdom’s beta-only law, which had been in place and strictly enforced since the Kingdom had been founded a thousand years ago. You’d been told that betas were the rational secondary sex, the only one not driven mad by pheromones and biology and the need to fight and fuck and bite.
Both alpha and omega presentations are rare, so elimination of them from the Kingdom population’s gene pool had taken little time or effort to enforce over the centuries. But, the law had been a source of terrible violence between the Kingdom and the mountain people, a cause of intrinsic and brutal conflict, and before the peace treaty had been reached, the Kingdom had lost thousands of men to the barbarism of the mountain people during the war.
The eventual peace treaty was a blessing, one both the Kingdom and the mountain people benefitted from, and one that neither side was looking to lose.
You say nothing in reply to her, focusing on working the ball of dough in your palm, because your nausea is sitting like a pit in your stomach and it’s not like you know any more about the wild people than she does, but it doesn’t deter her from continuing on.
“I wonder how many there will be. They travel in a great horde, I bet. Do you think they’ll come on wolves? I heard that they ride on wolves the size of horses.”
You huff softly, throwing her a look. “That’s a myth.”
“Is it?” she asks, her brows lifting up to her hairline. “How frightening would that be? Animals riding on animals…”
“Well,” you say diplomatically, if tiredly, placing a neatly rolled ball of dough aside and pulling up a fresh clump to start on. “I hope whoever he is comes with a great number of company, or all of this will be a waste.”
Someone bumps you from behind, punctuating your point as you’re jostled against the table, and a woman scurrying away with a full boiling pot shouts an apology to you as she disappears around the corner and into the hall.
Gida continues on, oblivious. “I wonder if he’ll be eight feet tall. I’ve heard they’re giants, haven’t you?”
You shrug with one shoulder, working the dough between your palms. The smell of roasting meat is rich in the air and it’s making your stomach continue to turn. Hunger and nausea and exhaustion mucking together somewhere inside you and making your chin nearly dip down to your chest.
You’d heard similar in gossip circles around the castle growing up, plus rumors of every possible other horrible mutation. That the wild people have elongated fangs like a snake, that the wild people move on all fours, that the wild people bathe in the blood of their enemies and dress themselves in the spoils of their battles.
It’s impossible to know the truth, but it occurs to you in a resigned sort of way, that you’ll know soon enough. The foreign horde is set to arrive within the hour and word will travel fast through the castle halls once they breach the city gates.
All there is to do now is to keep yourself busy. To keep kneading dough and listening to Gida and to keep yourself upright and moving forward forward forward, so you’re unable to crumble into the weary puddle your bones so desperately wish to.
It’s past midday when a shout echoes down the castle halls, announcing the arrival of the mountain horde.
Your head darts up in tandem with every other there in the sweltering kitchens, a hush of silence suddenly falling at the sound of the slapping footsteps of a castle page as he runs through the cobblestoned halls.
He’s gasping when he appears in the arched doorway. Panting as he leans against the stone wall, his eyes wide with whatever it is he’s seen.
“There’s two,” he says, between heaving breaths. “There’s only two of them.”
A murmur sounds behind you, confusion trickling through the crowd in the kitchen, and when chaos breaks out again, voices raising, people shouting questions, you look around the room at the mountains of freshly baked bread, the ovens teeming with roasting game, and the counters covered thick with sugar-dusted pastries, and don’t bother to stifle a dry, weary laugh.
Hopefully, you think to yourself, continuing to slice the root vegetables on the counter at your hip, the two mountain folk carry with them an appetite equal to their reputations, or all this work will be quite a waste, indeed.
The Great Hall is lit by roaring torchlight and lined with rows of long, oak tables. The tables are filled largely by King Enji’s own soldiers to avoid the spectacle of a vacant banquet, and the foot soldiers are all too happy to partake in the spread of food usually reserved for royalty.
The wild king and his companion are sat up on the throne dais at the head table, a respectful distance but elevated all the same as King Enji and his closest advisor. The tone of the room is jovial and loud, conversation from the tables rowdy and echoing, but a low note of tension fills the edges of the room, as Enji’s men steal subtle glances at the first wild people they’ve ever seen.
You’ve no time to sneak a look, finding yourself in constant, flurried motion as you work to keep the endless rows of tables covered in platters of fresh, steaming food and goblets full of mulled wine.
You move in a breathless, unspoken dance with the rest of the kitchen staff, on a silent, arching loop. Making your way through the Great Hall with fresh dishes from the kitchen, gathering dirtied dishware as you go, and returning them to the kitchen, where you grab a new serving platter of fresh food to bring out to serve.
It’s dizzying, but mindless enough that you manage to keep on your feet. Swept up in the exhilaration inherent in such a feast, in the laughter and shoulder-thumping of the King’s men as they enjoy a rare chance for frivolity, your head respectfully bowed as you move from table to table and ignore any slurred compliments murmured your way.
You’ve worked up a sweat, your linen dress constricting around your ribs when you make it back to the kitchen for the dozenth time and a porcelain pitcher is pressed to your hands with the fervent orders of, “For the head table.”
It speaks to the haze of routine you’ve settled into that you think little of the instruction before you turn and make your way back back through the dark halls of the castle and into the Great Hall. Your head spinning with the sudden roar of conversation and laughter in the air when you step beneath the great stone arches and into the open, torch-lit space.
The pitcher is heavy in your hands, full to the brim with dark, spiced wine, and you watch it closely as you walk with all the care you can gather towards the dais. Side-stepping to avoid a man leaping to his feet with a shout at one table and again to avoid a kitchen server rushing past you with her hands full of a broken bowl.
You realize you’ve reached the dais when your feet stub lightly against the raised, stone edge of it, and when you raise your head instinctively, you lose your breath in an instant at the sight of the King of your kingdom just feet from you. Sitting in a tall chair carved of intricate, dark wood, and looking, by all accounts, like he’d rather be anywhere than sat at the table there.
King Enji had decreed your station in life as a servant of the castle, but you’d never met him personally. Never been close enough to see the detail in the thick, jagged scar that cuts down the side of his face and ends in a fine point at his chin, nor to feel the commanding aura that hangs around his place setting like a shroud.
“Do you mean to stand there all night, little dove?” comes a voice, and your eyes dart to it. Caught lost in your thoughts and embarrassed for it.
A man to the King’s right is slouched in his seat. Displaying none of the reverence for the moment King Enji appears to at least be playing at, pushing his food around his plate with his fork in a decidedly bored manner. His hair is blonde and curled around his ears, and when his eyes meet yours, you find them to be quite seeing. Sharp, like a bird of prey’s.
Hawks. The right hand of the King,
“My apologies, Your Grace” you say, offering a polite smile and dipping into small curtsey out of habit before you force yourself to step up and forward to the table. “More wine, my King?”
King Enji’s eyes flick to yours, and you feel the distinct appraisal in them as recognition lights faintly there, before he nods, motioning to his empty chalice.
It appears he remembers you, after all.
You pour his glass to the top and move down to Hawks, offering him a polite nod when he immediately begins to chatter at you. Commenting on the grandeur of the evening and asking your opinion on the buttered scones, even though he knows that you cannot, and will not, give him any sort of reply. You lower your chin in a show of respect as you finish with his chalice and move to the next setting.
Something tickles at your nose as you move, a light twist of something on the air, and before you can wonder as to it, your feet catch on one another. Lurching you forward, a soft gasp falling from your lips, as the weight of the pitcher carries you forwards and down, and all you can imagine is the porcelain shattering on the floor before a rough hand darts out and grips tight at your forearm. Steadying you, keeping you upright, as the scent that had teased at you just a moment before rushes in around you like an ocean wave.
It’s…strange, the scent. Rich and warm and a little ripe, and you feel it like a weight in the air as it warms over your shoulders and the back of your neck.
You find yourself drawing in a deep, shuddering breath down to your feet as the taste of it on your tongue makes the hair on your arms prickle up, blinking fast to try to clear the sudden hazy cloud in your mind.
The hand on your arm is unrelenting, holding you bruisingly tight, but you don’t return to yourself properly until a voice says, “Easy,” in such a rough gravel that you feel the words vibrate in the air between you.
You look up, then. Your lips parted softly, trying not to pant, your lungs feeling tight, as you lift your eyes upon the king of the wild people, the ruler of the mountain folk and the lord of the western plains.
“Oh,” you say, stupidly, on a hushed little exhale, because you weren’t sure what to expect, and yet, you’re still stunned to near-silence at the sight of him.
He’s no giant. No wild animal either, on his feet and human as he leans over the table, gripping your arm. His chair is pushed back, like he’d risen quickly, and his eyes when they meet yours are the color of an eclipsed moon. Garnet red and sliver sharp beneath drawn brows.
His chest is bare, you realize with an unconscious glance down and then a hard jerk of your gaze back up, his shoulders adorned with a furred pelt and a cape of red wool cascading down his back. There are necklaces around his neck, thick, shiny beads separated by what look to be animal claws.
He’s like no man you’ve ever seen and you find yourself caught for a moment in simply looking.
He wouldn’t approach the height or breadth of the King if they stood shoulder to shoulder, but the presence of him is so plainly masculine, so intrinsically powerful that it makes your blood prickle warm and strange. He stands a head taller than you, at least, and his hand wraps fully, easily around the entire width of your forearm.
His skin is darkened by the sun and sits in stark contrast with the unruly, flaxen spikes of hair upon his head. The muscle that covers his bare chest moves faintly, mesmerizingly, with the low rasp of his breathing, and you get a bit lost tracing the dips and valleys of them, because his body is one like you’ve never seen. One borne from a life of conflict and fight and challenge, a strength in his frame that would make the most mammoth man of Eldur seem meek in comparison.
It’s only when your eyes meet his again that you see the cloud over his expression and the glint of his bared teeth on the flickering torchlight, and the sight of it makes you jolt softly in your own skin.
The scent on the air is hanging around you, still. Thicker now and spiced heady as his eyes bore hard into yours. You realize, dimly, trapped in the weight of his gaze like prey, that it must come from him.
It takes conscious effort to summon your voice, like you have to find it somewhere deep inside your belly.
“I’m sorry,” you say to him, weakly, trying to pull your arm free as you desperately try to collect your wits, but his grip on your arm doesn’t budge.
He’s watching you with an expression you can’t decipher, his brows dipping deeper on his face as his eyes travel hotly over your face, then down the slope of your neck where it turns to your shoulder. Watching you with a simmering intent, looking for something you don’t know.
His thumb travels over your wrist, a light brush, and the touch makes your knees wobble violently. Hard and sudden, unexpected, your weight shifting forward so suddenly that your hips bang clumsily into the table.
Something had pulsed through you, spiking blindingly sharp then soothing immediately after. Something thickening in your blood and making the edges of your nerves want to honey and soften under the pressure of his thumb as you gape uselessly at the sight of his hand around your wrist and try to find the strength to lock your knees once more.
There’s a snort to his left. “Gather yourself, girl,” Hawks says. He sounds more amused than anything, but it’s enough to shake you, and you try again to yank your hand back from the tight grip.
Your head is spinning, feeling muddled and hazed in a way you don’t understand, but that feeling is quickly being displaced by a sinking feeling of mortification as you realize that every set of eyes at the head table is set squarely on you.
The man holding you is frowning at you and it makes your heart thud painfully hard in your chest. You lick your lips when you look back to him from a quick glance to Hawks, nervous, suddenly, that you’ve displeased him somehow, because you don’t understand the intensity in look he’s wearing.
“My lord?” you ask, swallowing against the wet burst of spice in the scent on the air as he finally withdraws his hand from your arm, after a faint pulse of his hand around your wrist. Something like disgust coloring his expression as he sits slowly back down at his place setting, his steaming plate of roasted venison and sugared plums and sweet cake long forgotten.
“Don’t call me that,” he says to you as he sits, and you shiver again at the timbre of his voice. “We don’t do that shit.”
“Oh,” you murmur. Sounding impossibly dim to your own ears but seeming to have lost full control of your mouth. Of your mind itself, as you stare at him openly, only faintly aware of the strange thrum you feel coursing through your entire body. “Um. How - how should I address you?”
“Bakugo.”
Another little burst of spice on the air on the name, and the pitcher in your hands feels like it weighs more than a mountain.
“Should you be addressing him at all?” Hawks muses to the man’s left. His chin resting in his palm, watching with apparent great interest.
You watch the twist of Bakugo’s expression at that. Instantaneous and sharp, his eyes cutting over to Hawks.
“She can,” he says, no room for argument in his tone, and Hawks sighs and lifts his shoulders in a show of intended harmlessness.
“I forget you don’t believe in hierarchies, up on your mountain. Not in any that aren’t biological, at least.”
King Enji’s gaze drifts stiffly from where you’re stood to back out over the festivities in the hall, but Hawks seems intrigued by the turn his evening has taken, turning to face Bakugo and his companion down the table.
Bakugo’s eyes have returned to you and you suppress a shiver as his brows dip even lower on his face. His expression some mix of confusion and anger, though you can’t tell if it’s at you or if it’s a look that comes naturally to him.
Bakugo cuts a look to his right, to the man sat beside him (massive, broad-shouldered and with a fiery red mane of hair that travels down his back), then, when his companion shoots him some silent affirmation, his gaze turns to Hawks, then back to you.
“All those years of war,” he says. Tightly, his jaw gone tense. Keeping as polite as he can muster, as politics requires, even as he speaks through his teeth. “All those lives lost for your disdain of omega, yet you have one here.”
Omega.
The word douses you like iced water. Stunning you wholly, every muscle in your body locking rigid as your breath catches and chokes up thick in your throat.
You know your true secondary gender, everyone in the Kingdom does from the passage of rumor through the back alleys and streets, but it’s shocking to hear it said aloud. And from someone who has no way to know it - no knowledge of you or your mother or your past.
You feel distantly faint as your heart roars in your ears, sucking in a thin breath. Your vision beginning to tunnel as your deepest secret, your fiercest, most painful shame, is laid bare to this man you do not know. Your heart plucked from your chest and splattered upon the floor.
Hawks huffs softly, amused. “Ah. Those famed alpha senses miss nothing.”
The man beside Bakugo speaks then, for the first time. His voice is warm. Softer around the edges than Bakugo’s, but deep, still. Unquestionably nmasculine. “It’s not obvious.” He gives a look to Bakugo, who nods, curtly.
“It’s not,” Bakugo agrees, his frown sharpening. “She’s suppressed to all hell.”
Hawks shrugs his shoulders again, unbothered as he pops a piece of flaky pastry crust between his lips. “Can’t have those omega hormones running amok, can we? That she’s here at all is a testament to the King’s graciousness.”
King Enji sighs through his teeth beside Hawks, done, clearly, with the conversation, and when he cuts you a measured look of dismissal, scalds you like a burn. Makes you jerk upright and into motion. Reminded, instantly, consumingly, with that one look, of your station in this castle, and what you are standing at the head table to do.
“Ah, uh, yes,” you say, smiling nervously. Apologetically. Shifting the wine pitcher between your hands as you try to school your breathing and quiet the painful thunder of your heart. “Would you care for more wine, my lord?”
“You’re an omega,” Bakugo says, in lieu of answering your question, and a flush of heat ripples over your skin at the sound of the word again from his mouth.
You swallow thickly and nod, shifting on your feet a little, aware of the pressure of King Enji’s stare on the side of your face as you linger at the head table far past your welcome.
Bakugo watches you evenly, if sharply. Waiting, clearly, for an answer, though he seems to know it.
“I am, my lord.” Shame colors your voice, as much as you try to mold it into something politely detached and far more appropriate for addressing a royal. Deeply ingrained into you, from the day you presented years ago.
He exhales shortly. “Bakugo.”
You nod reflexively, your chin dipping down. “Bakugo. I apologize.”
His hand lifts from the table top in a sort of dismissive wave. Not of you, but of your apology. He watches you for a moment longer, then seems to remember himself. His hand flexes where it’s resting on the wooden tabletop, and then he nods. “Wine’s fine.”
You nod back quickly, grateful, and move to refill his chalice. Unable to stop yourself from taking one last glance at him before you move to stand before his companion, feeling the track of his gaze on you beneath your skin.
“Thank you,” his companion says, grinning sharp teeth at you warmly, as you fill his cup. Your brain makes a distant note to tell Gida of his pointed teeth, knowing it will delight her, and you barely stop yourself from filling his chalice to overflowing, lost in the sight of the torchlight glinting off the sharpened edges.
There’s a scent clinging to the air around him, too, you realize. Softer than the one from Bakugo, less heady, but touching at the skin of your neck all the same, and it’s only then, somehow, that the connection clicks into place in your muddles mind.
Alphas. They’re alphas.
The realization sinks through you like a stone and follows you as you bow once more and stumble gracelessly from the raised edge of the dais. It settles heavy in your belly as you make your way numbly to the back of the Great Hall and through the halls towards the kitchen. Feeling removed from your own body as your blood rushes with something you’ve never before felt as you feel the last traces of their scent trace over the surface of your skin - something simmering hot and heavy, something dizzying that makes your skin prickle and makes you feel hopelessly, helplessly, desperately real.
It’s the early morning hours after the feast by the time you make your way to your chambers. Hidden down in a little storage room buried deep in the belly of the castle, one thick, wooden door closing off a space barely larger than the mat on the floor where you sleep.
You move slowly as you descend the winding stairs and slip through the door, exhausted and sore from your evening spent rushing on your feet and the general unwellness that plagues you now more often than not, but your mind turns as you go through your nightly ritual of slipping from your day clothes into your night clothes. Folding your dress neatly and tending to your hair slowly, with clumsy, tired fingers, as the memories of your moments at the head table run through your mind on a dizzying loop.
The glands around your throat ache like a bruise as you ease yourself down to your sleep mat as you remember the intensity of Bakugo’s eyes on you. The thinly veiled anger laid plain on his face, though at you or your station, you’re not sure. You remember the obvious power in body, in the muscle displayed in his brazenly bare chest. The size and strength of his hand where he’d gripped your wrist tight, tiredly ignoring the flare of heat in your chest at the thought of it.
You fall asleep there in the flickering, fading light of the small candle mounted on the wall with your forearm pressed against your face. Nuzzling into it as sleep surrounds you with warmth and comfort and relief, the intoxicating, earthen scent of the only alpha you’ve ever known licking at something deep inside of you like a smoldering flame to kindling.
You’re in the back corner of the main kitchens the next morning, forcing down your daily cup of steaming, bitter tea, when a page comes around the corner and catches your eye with a wave.
You grimace as the last of the tea scalds down your throat and settles uneasily in your belly as you nod back to him - not remembering his name but knowing his face, from seeing it often around the castle halls.
He trots over to you, dodging a kitchen hand carrying a tray of baked pastries, and bumps against your side when he reaches it. His voice is a bit conspiratorial when he leans into you, his brows wagging.
“You’ve been summoned.”
You frown. Wiping your hand over your mouth as your belly flips and churns with the noxious clutch of the tea, immediate confusion turning to nerves and setting your heart to flutter in your chest.
Summons to people in your station rarely herald good news.
“What for?” you ask, rubbing your palm over your belly to try to soothe it. The brew hasn’t gotten any easier to stomach since you were first forced to drink it years ago.
Your mind immediately turns to the night prior - to your ill-advised conversation with the leader of one of the great nations, and your belly turns more fiercely. Wondering if you’ll be punished for addressing foreign royalty as freely as you did, or for lingering well past your dismissal.
The page shrugs, his eyes lit with something a little sparkling. “They didn’t say. I was just told to have you bring the morning meal for two to the Eastern Corridor.”
Your frown deepens as your heart aches from kicking against your ribs. You rub your hand over your belly to still the quease and clench of it as the tea sits bitterly there.
The King’s guests are housed in the Eastern Corridor. You know because you’d spent the last week preparing the dozens of rooms there in fresh linens and polishing every flat surface until it glittered and shone, for the horde of mountain folk that never came.
“Come on, then,” the page says. Offering you a smile that’s no real comfort as your mind trips uselessly over itself. “Best not to keep them waiting.”
It takes a moment for you to realize he’s spoken and by the time his words register, he’s stepping away from you and through the crowded kitchen space. Disappearing back into the darkness of the halls to do whatever it is pages do to pass the day.
You wobble frustratingly on your feet as you force yourself forward after he’s gone. Stepping into the business of the kitchen and searching for platters to fill with the food being roasted and sliced and served on the counters all around you, gritting your teeth against a rising wave of nausea and exhaustion that makes your head feel light and sweat prickle under your arms.
He’s right, you know. Whatever fate awaits you will get no better with time, so you force yourself to draw in deep, grounding breaths and, once you’ve piled a silver platter high with samples of every dish in eyesight, you carry it into the castle halls.
You follow your feet to the Eastern Corridor and work to keep your mind carefully blank as you balance the tray between your hands. Unsure of what awaits you but having no choice but to move forward, and face whatever consequences lay ahead.
The entire eastern wing of the castle had been extensively prepared for guests as Friður had approached, with castle staff assuming the wild folk would travel with an ensemble similar to the royal caravan that accompanies King Enji whenever he leaves the confines of the city.
Then Bakugo had appeared at the gates of Eldur with nothing but a horse, a companion at his side, the clothes on his back, and a cross look on his face, and plans had abruptly changed.
You figure that Bakugo must have been set up in the largest room in the Eastern Corridor - a suite at the far end of the hall with breathtaking views of the Kingdom at dawn and adjoining baths for guests to rest and cleanse in - so you follow the winding halls towards it, balancing the food-laden tray carefully as you walk.
The Eastern Corridor is echoing quiet, all castle staff moved to other posts to afford the foreign guests their privacy, and it makes the sounds of your steps on the stone floor vaguely ominous as you make your way through the casting beams of morning sunlight and try to stop your mind from it’s nervous, whirling tangle. Unsure why you would have been called for the task of bringing the mountain men their morning meal if not to apologize for your behavior the night prior, and preparing yourself as best you can to keep your wits about you in their presence this time.
You catch a faint tendril of scent as you round the last corner, that ruddy spice that registers somehow familiar to you already, and you know that you’ve found them as you approach the large wooden doors at the end of the hall.
It takes some care but you manage to knock on the door as hard as you can with the tray balanced against your hip. You listen for movement beyond, your lungs beginning to burn a bit from holding your breath, and though you hear no motion from within the room, the door is quickly swinging open to reveal Bakugo’s companion.
“Oh, hi!”
His face lights at the sight of you, his smile broad and bright, and before you can even get a polite greeting out, he’s reaching for the tray in your hands and plucking it away like it weighs no more than air.
“That looks heavy! Let me just - ”
A breeze drifts through the open door, carried through the open windows on the far wall of the room, and your eyelids weigh heavy at the wave of alpha scent that tickles over your skin and brushes the scent glands buried deep around your throat.
You knew, from last night. You remembered how it felt, how strange and honeyed you’d felt then, but the scent on this breeze is richer, somehow. Lived in and warm, like sun-soaked fabric and sleep-rumpled bed linens.
It makes something within you shudder. Makes some buried part of you flicker and reach, shaking off dust and stretching from years of neglect and slumber, in a way that has you blinking rapidly and desperately reminding yourself to draw in breath.
By the time your mind catches up to the pull you feel in your blood, the man is sitting on the massive bed at the center of the room, the tray set down beside the broad bulk of his thigh.
He catches your eye, where you’re standing awkwardly in the open doorway, and waves you in with a beckoning hand.
“Come on, come on in,” he says, grinning still as he plops a sugared pastry on his tongue. “Oh, that’s amazing…what is that?”
You look to your left and then to your right, not quite sure what to do, but when he waves you in again, not bothering to look up from where he’s picking apart another flaky tart, you step haltingly into the room and let the door shut behind you.
It bangs when it shuts, carried by the breeze, and it makes you startle a little. Chiding yourself, feeling foolish, skittish, but the smile on his face softens.
“Oh,” he says, dusting his hands on his trousers and leaving a smear of powdered sugar there. “I’m sorry, I’m being, uh…” he thinks for a second. “Familiar. Right? Is this - are you scared?”
You lick your lips and offer him a small lift of your shoulders. Sensing, somehow, that his candor is sincere. That he wants to hear from you, beyond your rehearsed pleasantries.
“I am a bit…nervous, my lord. I don’t mean to be rude.”
His smile lights again. “Kirishima,” he corrects, though not unkindly. “Call me Kirishima, the title stuff is weird to me.”
You nod to him, willing your heart to slow where it’s thudding heavy in your chest. There’s no inch of malice you can sense in him, but you’ve still no idea what to do, or why you’ve been called here, as you hover near the closed door with your hands clasped in front of you.
“Very well, Kirishima,” you say, with some effort. “How may I serve you this morning?”
He smiles at you, his head tilting a little, like he’s puzzled. “Have you eaten yet today?”
You eat only once per day - a small meal of bread heels and whatever leftovers you can scrap from the kitchen before bed time, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Your mouth opens to tell him the white lie but your stomach chooses then to let out a mortifying gurgle that makes your eyes widen and him to laugh easily with a tipped head. He pats the bed next to him.
“Come on, have a seat! There’s too much here for just Bakugo and me.”
You hesitate, and his gaze softens again. Some understand passing through his expression, like he’s seen more than you meant him to.
“I’m not trying to…do anything,” he says, carefully. Diplomatically. “I know that things are different here, but I’d love if you helped me eat some of this food.” As an afterthought, he adds. “If…you want to, of course! If you’re uncomfortable you can go. Ah, geez, am I being too much? Mina says I’m too much, sometimes.”
Your hands twist together as your stomach growls again. Digesting his words and feeling the sincerity in his tone. “Did you summon me yourself?” you ask, after a minute.
He bites into an apple, the juice spilling down his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his wrist and shrugs a little. Looking boyish in the morning light, even as his size, sitting a distance from you, utterly dwarfs yours.
“Oh, yeah! We wanted to talk to you, after last night.”
There’s another slam of a door from an adjoining room, then burst of heavy scent on the air, and you know without even looking, that Bakugo is here.
Kirishima visibly brightens, licking the juice from the apple from his knuckles. “Ah, there he is!”
There’s motion in your peripheral and you look through the doorway to your right to see a blur of bared and glistening skin and nearly break your neck jerking your head back when you realize you just saw Bakugo stroll past the doorway, as nude as the day he was born. Unconcerned by your presence, apparently, as you watch him bend at the waist and rifle through something left on the floor.
You feel your temperature spike, stupidly, instantly, your skin prickling warm in embarrassment, and you step forward to Kirishima on the bed, for lack of any other place to go.
Before you can hover awkwardly near the corner of the bed, Kirishima moves the platter and pats the bedding, nodding eagerly when you sit gingerly on the edge of it.
“Come on, dig in!” he says, grinning still. “Have you had those little puff-things? They’re amazing.”
You haven’t had any of the foods on the tray, in truth, and the sudden deluge of choice is a bit overwhelming. You settle on something small, a square little pad of baked dough with what looks to be lemon custard in the center.
It flakes in your mouth when you bite into it, flavor bursting over your tongue, and you make a muffled sound that has Kirishima laughing softly.
“I know, right? Everything is so sweet here.”
You savor the treat as best you can, eating in small nibbles and feeling the queasy turn of your belly ease with every morsel you swallow. Settling, slowly, into this strange moment - you sitting nearly knee to knee with an alpha you don’t know, a foreign dignitary who addresses you with kindness, and who freely shares his food with you.
You’d always been told that the mountain folk were nearer to beasts than man. That their alpha and omegan nature made them mercurial and violent, slaves to their basest instincts and impulses and completely, utterly uncivilized.
Watching Kirishima hum happily as he chews down a strip of crisped bacon, it occurs to you with an incredible weight that everything you’ve been told of the mountain folk, and of your omegan self, is likely wrong.
There’s a grunt near the door, and when you look up, Bakugo is there. Dressed in his trousers but otherwise bare, save for the beaded necklaces of glass stone and animal claws hanging around his neck, he rubs his hand over the back of his head as he approaches the bed. Shaking his head once like a dog, water from his bath splattering lightly over the stone floor.
He rounds the bed and sits beside Kirishima on the bed with little care. Carrying that scent you somehow know along with him, muttering a greeting to Kirishima as he reaches for the steaming food on the platter straight away, then turning his gaze to you.
It takes effort to not shrink beneath his gaze, but you manage. Your chin dipping instinctively, but you meet his eyes and nod.
“Good morning.”
He takes a ripping bite off the breast of a roasted quail, the points of his fangs glinting in the morning light, and he nods back, as amiable as you’ve seen him.
“Morning.”
You feel a sinking twist of discomfort, all too aware of the presence he carries and the way his closeness makes your lungs feel tight, restricted, but before the feeling can properly root, Bakugo is rolling his eyes and batting Kirishima’s hand away from a frosted roll on the tray.
“Hey, fuck you,” he mutters, snatching the pastry from beneath Kirishima’s fingers. “Eating all the good shit.”
Kirishima just laughs, and the tension dispels, just like that, as they bicker mildly back and forth. Taking heaping bites of whatever they grab from the tray, talking back and forth between bites about nothing at all.
You know, from the prickle along the back of your neck that you feel from their presence, that your conclusion the night prior was correct - that they’re both alphas. The level of comfort they have together is abundantly clear, as they roll their eyes and gently gripe at each other, the conversation flowing easily between them, as if you’re not even there, and again, you think back to all you’d been told about alphas, in your youth.
Alphas are aggressive.
Alphas fight.
Alphas will kill each other over food or sex or territory.
Alphas are dangerous.
Kirishima snatches a slice of dewy melon from Bakugo’s hand, barely avoiding the snap of Bakugo’s teeth, and Bakugo nearly shoves him off the bed in retaliation. Muttering I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, knock it off, under his breath as Kirishima laughs from his belly and picks himself back up.
You’re caught staring by Kirishima, who tilts his head at you in question, making the back of your neck heat a little.
“I was just…” you say, slipping boiled and sliced duck egg from the tray and into your palm to busy your hands. “I was just wondering if you two were brothers.”
Bakugo huffs a laugh a that, so sudden and sharp that it nearly startles you, but Kirishima just smiles broader.
“What makes you ask that?”
Bakugo pops a blackberry into his mouth and answers your question, saying flatly, “We’re not.”
It occurs to you that what you’re about to say might be incredibly stupid, but you press on. “I was just…growing up, I was always told alphas didn’t get along with each other.”
Bakugo snorts, eyeing Kirishima. “We don’t.”
Kirishima ignores him, brightening visibly at you and shifting on the bed to sit more upright. “Oh, that’s so interesting. Can I…what were you told about us, can I ask?”
That draws Bakugo’s eyes to you too, a silent slide of garnet to your face, and you slip a tender slice of the egg between your lips for a moment to think of what to say.
After a moment of your mind whirling uselessly, you settle for the truth.
“Nothing accurate, I don’t think.”
Kirishima hums to himself softly, thinking.
Bakugo speaks next.
“How does this work?” he asks, raising his brows at your…general self. “I can barely smell you a fuckin’ foot away from you. What’d they do to you?”
An edge has entered his tone again. Not anger, you don’t think, but something steely, and it makes you swallow reflexively.
You hesitate, and Kirishima’s hand lifts from his thigh, before he seems to notice himself and put it back down.
“It’s okay,” he says. “It’ll stay between us.”
Your fingers twist a bit in the skirt of your dress. Unsure of what to say, or what answers they’re even really seeking. A part of you sure that the second you open your mouth, the door to the room will burst open and the King’s men will drag you from the room.
Kirishima helps you, and your heart beats with gratitude for it. “What about your scent glands? Like around your neck? We should be able to smell you from across the room, but your scent is so muted…”
Your fingers touch at the trim of the collar of your dress, feeling your glands pulse distantly at the mention of them. Before you can think to answer him, Bakugo is leaning suddenly forward and into your space, ignoring Kirishima’s exasperated Bakugo, ask first - behind him.
The stillness that jolts through you like a current is instinctive, a jolting lock of your muscles as Bakugo tips forward, reaching out and tugging at the edge of your dress collar to pull it to the side.
The scent of him is intoxicating, this close. Overwhelming. His cheek nearly brushes yours as he bends lower to see where your shoulder meets your throat, and the faint warmth of his breath on your bare skin has you shuddering quietly. Your head tilting for him without any conscious thought, as his fingertips trace down the line of your neck and smooth over the raised bump of your gland.
The sensation sparked there is bizarre. Pain, like a static shock, but a plume of something else in your blood too, from the pressure. Something syrupy and warm that thickens before his hand has even lifted from your skin.
You can’t breathe until he rocks back to his spot on the bed, his face twisted in a frown as he rubs his fingers together, and then you draw in a deep, embarrassingly ragged breath.
“There’s some kind of wax over them,” he says, looking at his fingertips. “They’re blocked.”
You don’t know what that means, but the expression that crosses Kirishima’s face leads you to believe it’s nothing good. He looks to Bakugo for a moment and a silent conversation happens between them.
“Uh, honestly?” Kirishima says to you, after a beat. “We asked for you to bring us the morning meal because we wanted to talk to you. About…this.”
You don’t quite know what to say to that. “I know it’s…unusual,” you start, but Kirishima shakes his head.
“I don’t mean that it’s bad - that you’re bad, we just…” He stops and sighs for a second. Thinking, clearly. Trying to get his thoughts in order. “This doesn’t seem like a good…place for you. If this is how you’re treated.”
The denial comes to you before you can stop it. “I’m treated well - ”
“You’re not,” Bakugo says, and, oh, now he’s angry. Your shoulders round inwards, swallowing against the sudden burst of scent on the air. Edged and sharp on your tongue. “What they’re doing to you is disgusting. There’s nothing fucking wrong with you.”
Why the desire to defend the Kingdom comes to you, you’ve no clue. “It’s - fine. They allowed me to stay? They used to execute omegas before King Enji, my mother told me - “
Bakugo’s lip lifts in a snarl. “Of course they did. How much have they fucked with your head that you think being spared a horrible death is some mercy when there’s nothing fucking wrong with the way you are?”
Kirishima is much gentler when he speaks, clearly trying to soften the edge to Bakugo’s anger. “Even if you don’t feel like you’ve been mistreated…” he says. “Even if you feel they’ve been kind to you…it’s cruel to deny someone their nature. It’s cruel.”
Your mouth drops open, then you close it. Not sure what to say. Not sure why you feel cornered, when what they’re expressing seems to be an anger for you, not towards you.
“I don’t…” you try, your voice trailing. “I don’t know anything else.”
Kirishima nods, understanding, and Bakugo makes a tight sound, leaning back farther and scrubbing his hand through his hair.
“How do they handle your heats?” Kirishima asks, looking like he’s prepared to not like the answer. “Do they at least take care of you during…”
There’s a beat of silence, then your brows dip.
“What do you mean?”
Bakugo’s eyes cut to yours.
“Your heats,” Kirishima says again. “Do they like - give you a space, at least? Do you have someone to stay with you?”
Something in your mind feels stalled out. Confusion shifts quickly to a sinking feeling at the look Bakugo is giving you. Like he knows what you’re about to say.
“I don’t understand,” you say. Slowly, feeling like you’re nearing the edge of some precipice.
Kirishima looks to Bakugo, but his gaze is locked to you, his jaw tensed. Kirishima’s words come slowly, apparently as confused as you are.
“You’ve had…heats, right? You must have presented years ago.”
You shake your head. Dread pooling low in your belly, because you feel like you’ve somehow done something wrong.
You’ve heard whispers about heats in your life - you’d been told tawdry gossip about how omegas lose themselves entirely to their hormones during their cycle - become creatures of instinct and wanton, uncontrollable lust - but you’d never had one. Not once. You’d thought they were a fiction, in truth. Another ghoulish story made up to paint the mountain people in the worst possible light.
“I don’t have heats.”
Bakugo pushes himself to his feet so abruptly that the platter of food nearly slips from the side of the bed. Caught only by Kirishima, whose hand shot out blindly to catch it, his eyes frozen on your face.
“You’re kidding,” Kirishima says faintly.
Bakugo has paced through the room, by then. “I fucking told you. I fucking knew it.”
You realize you haven’t taken a breath in a minute when your lungs start to burn, and you draw in a shuddering one. Wanting to stand, too. Wanting to leave, to escape the sudden tension that’s cut through the room like a knife, because you’ve no idea what you’ve done to upset them.
“I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t know…”
A hand touches your wrist, large and dry and gentle, and when you look down, you see that Kirishima has reached for you. His forefinger smooths over the ridge of the gland in your wrist, and your body shudders at the flood of relief that courses through you. Instantaneous and overwhelming and coupled with the softened scent that is filling the air and touching at the heated skin of your cheeks.
You feel like cotton on a breeze. Lighter than air and swimming in your own body, before you can even draw in another breath.
Another deep breath of the haze surrounding you and you can’t help but murmur, “What are you doing to me?” because you feel almost removed from your body. Your anxiety and fear replaced so suddenly with this soothing, heady drift that you feel the world has shifted beneath your feet.
His finger drifts over your wrist gland once more, a whisper of a touch, and then he draws back his hand. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. You’re reacting to our scents - I don’t think you know how to block them out yet. Your heart is racing.”
The scent in the air lightens as he leans away from you, his eyebrows dipped in concern, and it allows you to breathe more freely. Sucking in a breath through your teeth and tangling your hands in the bed linens to ground yourself.
It takes you a moment to gather your words, but they give you time. Kirishima watching you patiently, Bakugo staring out the window with his arms folded tight across his bare chest.
“I’ve never had a heat,” you say again. “I know that - I’ve heard about them but…”
Kirishima is frowning softly. “Do they make you take anything? An omega’s heats are difficult to suppress...”
Understanding dawns on you, and your stomach clenches reflexively. “I drink a tea every morning. It’s…painful.” It makes you horribly ill for near every hour you’re awake, really.
Bakugo exhales tightly and Kirishima shakes his head.
“They make you drink it?”
You try to control the frown tugging at your mouth, your fingers gripping into the linens on the bed beneath you. “It’s…not optional. It makes me sick.”
Kirishima is quiet for a moment. “I bet it does.”
A breeze drifts through the open window, and Bakugo exhales again. Still looking out over the Kingdom, the set of his shoulders rigid and tight.
“Heats are part of your omegan nature,” Kirishima tries to explain. “Suppressing them…”
“It’ll kill you,” Bakugo says, his voice low but edged. “All of this shit,” - he jerks his chin at you - “Is going to fucking kill you. But I suppose they haven’t told you that.”
Your silence is an answer in itself and he scoffs, his jaw working as he clenches his teeth. “Of fucking course,” he mutters, the morning sun casting gold across his face.
There’s a moment of stillness in the room as his words sink in. Heavy in the air, weighing around you as you let their meaning settle in your mind - too stunned to do anything but sit there, staring at Bakugo’s profile in the sun.
“W-well…” you say, after a minute. Your words coming choppily from you as you try to make sense of your thoughts. “Your concern is kind, but I can’t…there’s nothing I can do - ”
Kirishima shakes his head before you finish speaking, but it’s Bakugo who cuts you off.
“You’re coming with us.”
You blink, a thudding pressure suddenly in your chest like you’ve been struck there with a great force.
“What?”
Bakugo turns, finally, to look at you. The expression on his face is level, but dark. Sure in his conviction.
“We’re taking you home with us. No fuckin’ way we’re leaving you here.”
“If you want to,” Kirishima is quick to add, and his immediate joinder in the idea tells you this was maybe the plan from the start. Why they maybe summoned you in the first place. “If you want to stay, you can, but…I really hope you’ll come with us. We really hope you will.”
It’s hard to draw a coherent thought through the dull roar you hear in your ears. Rooted to your spot where you sit on the bed, blinking stupidly at Bakugo and Kirishima, because what they’re saying makes no sense to you.
“But…I’m nobody.”
“You’re omega,” Bakugo snarls. “You don’t belong to them.”
Your heart aches in your chest, beating so hard against your ribs your ears ring with the echo. Dizzy, feeling like the room is shifting around you. “I belong to my Kingdom.”
Bakugo’s lip lifts in a bare of his teeth. “No. You belong to no one but your fucking self.”
Kirishima’s expression is intent, now, as he looks at you. Like he’s found his footing in the conversation at last. “You’d fit right in,” he says. “You wouldn’t have to hide who you are. You wouldn’t have to…” he struggles to find the words, “serve anyone. You’d just be one of us.”
The promise of it sounds sweet to your ear. Filling your chest with something that feels painfully bright, almost blinding in its hope, but reality sweeps in fast on its heels.
You shake your head. “He’d never…” You look between Kirishima and Bakugo. “The King would never allow it.”
The Kingdom of Eldur is a closed community, after all. Walled off by towering stone walls and iron gates that nearly touch the sky. The citizens of Eldur are beholden to it. No one has ever had much cause to try to leave, but those that have…
They don’t seem to share your concern.
“Let us worry about that,” Kirishima says. “The question for you is if you want to.”
The thought comes to you so quickly, of course I want to, that it stuns you a bit. Because the whole idea seems a bit fantastical to you, nonsensical, even. Plus, all you’ve been told of the mountain folk…
“I’ve…been told that you live…with nature,” you say, slowly. Trying to find a way to voice your thoughts without offense.
Kirishima grins. “Yeah, we do. It’s awesome.” He seems to sense your trepidation because he continues on.
“You did say before that what you’d been told about us wasn’t…maybe right,” he laughs softly. “So, uh…let me think. We live together, up in the mountains. On the plains in the warm months, then we move in to the interior caves when the cold season comes. We live very differently than you do here, but you’d want for nothing. Everyone is clothed and fed and warm at night. And everyone is happy, too. Don’t you think, Bakugo?”
Bakugo grunts a soft assent. “You’d be free.”
The next question that comes to you makes the back of your neck heat, but you push it forward anyway, because you need to know. “I was always told that you…mate…freely.”
That makes Bakugo’s mouth twist up at the corners, even as Kirishima shakes his head with a laugh.
“I’m sure you’ve been told some stories,” he says, still shaking his head. “I mean we…we’re a very free people…that way. But we mate for life. And we do not stray from our mates.”
That’s more than you can say for the marriage unions of Eldur.
Kirishima is watching your face carefully as you think. As your mind whirls with the possibility of what they’re posing to you. “You could choose any alpha you wanted. If you wanted to, I mean.”
Your brows lift, surprise and confusion rising immediately. “I thought…” Surely the alphas control…that.
Kirishima smiles again and it’s oddly wistful. He turns over his hand to show you his wrist and you see a silvery ring of scar around the scent gland in the underside of his wrist.
It looks like…a bite mark. Bit deep into the skin, a perfect impression left behind on his body forever.
A shiver tickles down your spine, drawn to it instinctively, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out to touch.
“That’s from my girl,” Kirishima says, voice going a bit warm. “She’s got one of these from me on her throat, too, but…I belong to her, entirely.”
You find yourself getting lost in the sight of it for a moment. Imagining it, an unnamed sensation tightening around your lungs as you picture someone tearing down into his wrist hard enough to pierce the skin…as you imagine him piercing his pointed teeth into the scent glands on the side of someone’s neck.
The morning sun has begun to cast into the room, now. It catches in Bakugo’s hair, where he’s stood near the window, and it very nearly shimmers.
“Get one thing clear,” Bakugo says to you. Watching you seriously, now. His anger from before muted from the shift in conversation. “Omegas control the bonds. No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”
It occurs to you faintly that Bakugo is speaking like you’ve already agreed to go with them, but you can’t find it in yourself to find offense at the presumption.
You barely know these two men. They’re strangers to you, or close to it, yet you feel secure with them in a way you have no way to describe. They feel…more like you than anyone in Eldur ever has, even just from your brief interaction with them last night and this conversation today.
You want to go with them, you realize. You feel something, a warm tendril of something like hope, but dread follows close on its trail. Warring inside of you, feeling like you’ve been caught in a current you can neither see nor control.
You chew on your lower lip, and decide to voice one of the fears pitting in your belly. “I’m not…I have no skills…living out in nature. I don’t know how I could help you. I couldn’t survive on my own.”
There’s a soft huff from Bakugo and when you look to him, his expression has softened a touch. “You won’t be on your own. You’ll have a pack.”
His arms finally uncross from over his chest, one hand lifting up to scrub over his hair, sending little droplets of water again across the stone floor.
You look before you realize that you are, and it hits you like a blow when you see that the scent glands on his wrists are unmarked.
You breathe against the surge of something hot, rising, in you at the realization, and shake your head stubbornly to clear it. They’re both watching you, waiting, it seems for your answer.
“I…” Your heart roars in your ears, deafening. “I’d like to. Come with you.”
Kirishima nearly rises off his seat on the bed, carried by the bright delight that flashes over his face. “Really? You will?”
“If…” you look to Bakugo. “If you can get the King to agree. I don’t want to…jeopardize you. Either of you. Or the peace treaty.”
Bakugo snorts, his mouth curving up in a grim grin. “All due respect, kit, that peace treaty is worth a lot more to your king than your life.”
The endearment slips over you like a warm breeze, a tender brush against your skin, gone before you’ve even realized he said it.
Kirishima lets out a whooshing breath as his shoulders sag. “Don’t worry about all of that. Bakugo can be very persuasive.” Bakugo snorts derisively but he continues on. “We’ll take care of it.”
While Kirishima seems relieved, nerves have lighted anew inside of you as you realize what you’ve said. What you’ve agreed to, just like that.
“Friður ends tomorrow midday,” you say. Swallowing against the thud of your heart, gathering what courage you can. “Will you have time before then to…?”
Bakugo smirks, the sun glinting off one pointed fang. “I’ve got to spend all day listening to your king talk about whatever the fuck. I’ll have plenty of time.”
Kirishima is still beaming when you look over to him. He grabs a braided twist of bread dusted in cinnamon from the tray and shoves it into his mouth. “Everyone is going to be so excited,” he says to Bakugo. Then, to you, “You’re going to love everyone. We haven’t had anyone new in so long!”
You can’t help picturing it, then. Your mind conjuring a vision that’s swirls of warm colors and hearty laughs, nights spent around roaring fires and hearts bared to one another in the confidence that utter trust brings.
“You’re a family,” you say softly. Realizing it, as the words leave your mouth.
Kirishima nods, earnestly. “We are. And you’ll be welcome.”
It’s more than you can nearly comprehend. The idea of such a place, so far removed from the cold cobblestones and towering walls of Eldur, where people meet and know one another. Accept one another and hold one another, the way that families and lovers do.
A bell sounds from a distant tower, echoing on the morning air, and it’s only then that it occurs to you how long you’ve spent in their chambers. You’re being missed in the kitchens, surely, and your kindled nerves spark brighter and tighter in your chest. It’s too much, all of it at once like this.
But before you can try to excuse yourself, Bakugo glances out the window and sees something that makes him push off from the wall and into motion.
“Leave some mystery, idiot,” Bakugo mutters to Kirishima as he moves past the bed and disappears into the bathing room. “We’re due for a tour or some shit, finish up.”
The gripe rolls off of Kirishima like water, easy, and he shakes his head as he pushes himself to his feet. Smiling like there’s a sun inside of him and he can’t quite tamp it down.
“Don’t worry,” he tells you as he stands from the bed. Stretching over his head til his joints pop, his clasped hands nearly touching the ceiling. “We’ll take care of all of it.”
Bakugo reappears from the bathing room a moment later, slipping the heavy pelt of his cloak over his shoulders with a practiced sort of ease. Touching next at the leather bracers on his forearms to be sure they’re secure.
“He’s right,” he says to you, glancing over to you. “The only thing required of you is the courage to leave when the time comes.” He watches you for a moment, his eyes flitting over the form of you where you’re sat on the bed. “Do you have it?”
Kirishima seems to think you do, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he moves to join Bakugo near the door. “Stay here as long as you want,” he says, waving towards you and the platter of food that’s still a quarter full. “Finish all that food! You’re gonna need your strength for the journey home.”
Bakugo grunts his agreement and swings the door of the room open with a light tug, his eyes connecting to yours for just a moment over the strong line of his arm before he turns and disappears into soft light of the hallway. Kirishima follows him closely behind, moving as Bakugo’s hulking shadow as they disappear from your line of sight.
Home.
They leave you there, sitting on the rumpled linens of their bed. Staring after them dumbly as the door shuts behind them, leaving you in a hollowing silence that you feel reverberate down into your bones.
The reality of the moment sinks down heavy around you with every passing beat of silence, and you take the moment to pinch yourself. To make sure you haven’t dreamed all this up while curled up in your little chambers in the belly of the castle, creating some elaborate fantasy to escape your growing unease from your omega turning beneath your skin like a parasite with each passing day.
They said they would ask the King, though they may not. The King will likely deny the request if they make it, but what if he doesn’t? You chew on your lower lip and rub your palm over your stomach as you realize faintly that tomorrow could find you in your usual stead, toiling in the castle kitchens, or could find you leaving the Kingdom behind as you stride out into the great unknown.
It’s hard to know, as the bell rings out over Eldur once more and thrums with the rapid beat of your heart, if everything in your world has changed, or if nothing has changed at all, and your mind swims heavily, helplessly, with the unknown of everything that lies ahead.
If you want to know when updates will be posted, you can check out my schedule.
Rating: M
Pairing: Hawks x fem!reader x Dabi
Summary: “A parrotbill that tries to walk like a stork will break its legs” (뱁새가 황새를 따라가면 다리가 찢어진다). A proverb that has withstood time and upheld society. In the age of quirks, not much has changed, however, the way society functions has shifted—evolved as the human race did—but human beings will always be simply that: human. When you find yourself in less-than-fortunate circumstances, learning to cope and evolve is all you can do. Perhaps you’ll learn to find strength in others. Perhaps love and compassion are all you need to make those shifts. After all, if you aren’t born with a silver spoon, then you might as well steal it.
Word count: Estimated 100k
CW: canon compliant (will be taking a hiatus after chapter 27 until the manga concludes), sort of kidnapping?, drug use and addiction, abuse and manipulation from AFO, spoilers, abuse towards characters (canon), character death (canon), violence, descriptions of blood and injuries (canon), accidental pregnancy, smut (unprotected sex), all sex is consensual
Other tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, love triangle
Special shoutouts to: @overtime-city-works, @haikyutiehoe, @history-be-written, @izukussbitch, @jordyn-degas @vagabondings-moved for beta reading specific chapters so I can stay sane. Also Shoutout for @almaadst for creating the art to go along with this fic. You can check out her submission [here] (will be released on Aug 27).
Check out the masterlist for all the big bang works! @mybigbangacademia
The time has finally come! Everyone has been working their butts off for months now, coming up with wonderful ideas and putting them down on paper. It has been a journey—a learning experience for us all—but the end product is so well worth it!
The admin team has had a great time putting this project together, and we could not be happier with all of our participants. It’s been so much fun and such an honor to work with everyone, to see so many creative minds in one place.
So, here it is! Below the cut is the masterlist for the My Big Bang Academia project. Fics will be added over the course of a few days. We have everything from beautiful 20k one-shots to novelesque100k epics. Please keep in mind that many of these fics contain mature material, so read over the tags and warnings when clicking into a story!
Lastly, while some writers have finished their long-fics completely, others haven’t and will come up with their own posting schedule from here on out. Please be patient with everyone and show them lots of love!
It’s time to enjoy all of the pieces below! Make sure the writers and artists are showered with appreciation since they’ve put so much into this.
Now, are you ready to go beyond?
PLUS ULTRA!
✸ LINKS ✸
Front Desk
Roster
Timeline
FAQ
✸ AIZAWA
@karikarasuno - As It Was
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @la-saffron ✧ (coming soon)
✸ ALL MIGHT
@ghost-party - Crash Me Down
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @stormcallart ✧
@kaexiao - We All Are Small Particles Holding Very Tightly Together In a Very Large Universe
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @wasabi-gumdrop ✧ (coming soon)
@savory-script - With the Skies as My Witness
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @54prowl ✧
✸ DABI
@animereaderinsertwriter - A Suitable Match To Light a Fire
↳ ✧ paired illustrations ✧ by @bluebellhairpin ✧
✸ DEKU
@kaitsawamura - East of My Heart (West of My Soul)
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @jiyuu-zou ✧
✸ IIDA
@whats-her-quirk - With or Without My Best Intentions
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @kaexiao (coming soon)
✸ MIDNIGHT
@lovekento - The Sith Code
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @fittsythesnail ✧
✸ SHOUTO
@hawnks - The Other State of Matter
↳ ✧ paired illustration ✧ by @king-bito ✧ (coming soon)
✸ MULTIPLE
art | by @crushzone (coming soon) as part of @mybigbangacademia
pairing | midoriya izuku x bakugou katsuki
rating | explicit, 18+
status | ongoing (ao3)
tags | au (no quirks), aged-up characters, mma fighter!bakugou, physical therapist!midoriya, physical violence typical of combat sports, mutual pining, angst, reunion, reconciliation, getting together, service top midoriya, bottom/power bottom bakugou, versatile, masturbation, hand jobs, phone sex, frottage, oral sex, anal sex (tags subject to change)
summary
As the indisputable middleweight champion, Bakugou stands at the pinnacle of MMA, a title he clings to fiercely as a question begins to circulate—one that strikes harder than a fist: just how long can he keep fighting? But retiring would finally reveal what he knows is waiting outside the ring.
Midoriya is a physical therapist who takes pride in the recovery of his clients. After an early retirement from kickboxing when an injury saw him struggle through his own healing, he’s surprised to see a familiar name on his calendar. It could be a second chance.
a @mybigbangacademia collaboration with @strafepanzer (masterlist)
He nods, points to the pink knee-length rain boots you’re wearing. “They’re cute,” he can’t help but snicker. “All part of the weather girl uniform, I guess?”
—
reblogs help creators better than likes!
i also have a twitter
and if you would like to support my works, buy me a coffee!
I’m so happy to be participating in @mybigbangacademia’s challenge this summer! Links to each chapter will be below and you’re more than welcome to see the rest of these amazing fics at @mybigbangacademia!
Plot Summary: Izuku had known since he was five years old that he and Prince Shoto of Japan were destined to help their country when disaster struck. Their very skin was marked in order to remind them, to guide them to the Stars of Shinzo. When the drought and the war caused by the Shogunate begin to tear across the country, it is time for Shoto and Izuku to fulfil the words passed down from generation to generation. But with a Captain so brutal, a Navigator that makes Izuku question his faith and the Prince he has followed since childhood acting strangely, knowing who to trust becomes a quest just as important as finding the Stars.
Pairings: Main pair - Midoriya x Shinso
Rating: Mature
Tags /Warnings: Pirate AU, Historical AU, Shindeku, Graphic depictions of violence, gore, mentions of slavery, mentions of prostition, swearing
“we all are small particles holding very tightly together in a very large universe // k.bakugou” masterlist
thank you @mybigbangacademia for allowing me to be part of this collab!
summary Soulmates are given to every child when they turn five through their dreams. You were never assigned one. Growing up and coming to terms with never having a soulmate, you find another Tamaki with a similar fate and become happily engaged. What happens when you start to dream of an old classmate though, his ruby eyes and caramel scent haunting you in and out of your dreams?
artwork by @/wasabi-gumdrop coming soon
warnings hurt/comfort, heavy angst, emotional cheating, major character death, smut, body horror/graphic injuries, trauma, ptsd, sinkhole accident, medical trauma, hospital scenes
Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Marital Problems, Beach House Setting, Flashbacks, Angst, Canon Divergence, Quirk Explanation
a/n: behold my submission for @mybigbangacademia. I’ve had a crazy journey writing this big boy, but it was all worth it and I’m kinda proud of what it has turned into. thanks to all the admin for hosting this event, it was amazing seeing all of the work and effort you all put into this. and another huge shout out to @thegetoufather for (1) dealing with me and (2) being a massive support. and thanks to the lovely @strafepanzer who read this over for me and allowed me to be scared as hell about the deadline in her dms. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys my little passion project and I appreciate you x a million.
art by @la-saffron
masterlist | part one | part two
The drive to the beach house is quiet, not unlike many of the interactions you and your husband have been having recently. The distance between the two of you could probably be filled with the ocean you were currently driving towards. A vast unknown of deep, deep uncertainty. You kind of regretted the suggestion to come out here for the summer. If you didn’t know what to say to him at home, how would you figure it out here? When it’s just the two of you and the silence stretched like taffy, sticky and thinning with every passing moment.
You fiddled with the radio for most of the drive, adjusting the dial to change the station the further away from home you got. The silence needed to be filled with something. Usually, and what you hoped for, it was conversation. Casual, comfortable conversation. But that was few and far between nowadays. You could probably count the number of times the two of you actually talked in the last few months on one hand. Which had hairline fractures slicing through your heart, the inevitable shattering of it bound to happen any day now.
Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Marital Problems, Beach House Setting, Flashbacks, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content(18+ only)
Summary:
Where do you go now? When a love you thought to be unshakeable starts to fall apart before you could even try to piece it together? When Nemuri urges you to take a trip to the beach house in Okinawa with Aizawa in an effort to save whatever is left of your marriage, you’re hesitant. Not sure where to go or how to navigate this situation. But you take the opportunity anyway, maybe a month away will force whatever the both of you have been burying deep inside to the surface. Unsure if it will lead to devastating heartbreak or lost love to be found again.
