mindless self indulgence

I'll put something here when I give a damn.

[ramblebrambleamble]

Lloyd, exhausting himself trying to figure out a way to stop the restoration of fate without having to die for it (because like hell was he letting Javier die for it), doesn't let anything slip exactly, it's just that...

It's just that he worded something a little wrong, and Javier's not stupid and-

And he's desperate for Lloyd to let him in, to tell him how he can fix this for Lloyd and, well. He pounces.

Like a dog with a bone, he worries at Lloyd and this time he won't let himself be shut down, explain yourself, please, and it just ends up with the two of them screaming at each other, furious, terrified, and it's not working, it was never going to work, Javier has never won a verbal spat with this man, he needs to do something, anything, but what can he do that he hasn't already-

Lloyd gets interrupted mid-shout by lips and teeth and tongue and Javier is terrible at kissing, wait, what, Javier is kissing him, what-

They pull apart, breathing hard, and a message box appears in front of Lloyd's eyes and he cannot believe this.

'Congratulations on changing your genre! The genre has changed from Dramatic Tragedy to Romance. We hope you enjoy your happily ever after!'

Are you shitting him. Are you shitting him, he's going to-

And it's Javier's turn to be angrily kissed, Lloyd mumbling furious nonsense against his lips, and they really did live happily ever after.

[ramblebramblefun]

Once upon a time, Javier vaguely remembers, he had made a wish upon a star.

It was a childish thing. He had not thought much of it, after. He had not thought much of the young lord, after, as well.

He had buried him, of course. As terrible as Lloyd had been, he had been Lord Arcos' son. A Frontera.

Sir Javier Asrahan would serve no one by any other name.

But, once upon a time, he had made a wish. A wish for that terrible young master to come to his senses and to at least face his impending misfortune with dignity.

He'd found the man drowned in his own vomit, instead.

Wishes are... They're pointless. They do not come true for anyone. They especially do not come true for Javier Asrahan, who had lived his life by his blade and who would have died by it, too, tiring of living in that desolate place his life had become after the fall of the House of Frontera.

Wishes do not come true. No matter how many good deeds you perform, or how much blood you spill, the stars will not move for you. Unless...

Unless you are Sir Javier Asrahan, loyal knight to the House of Frontera, living some bizarre, blessed life in some other place, where the original, terrible young master was... killed? by your wish and replaced with some strange little man whom everyone insists to be Lloyd Frontera because Sir Javier Asrahan said so and Sir Javier Asrahan is no liar.

Sir Javier Asrahan does not know himself to be a liar, this is true. But that does not explain... anything about the phenomenon that tells him to "call him Suho, if it helps."

Sir Javier Asrahan does not know himself to be a liar, but the version of him that exists here must be different somehow, for better or worse, because for one reason or another the stars have moved for him and Lord Arcos is alive and the barony, the county, is thriving and no one will shut up about these ondol things and he's furious and he's happy and he's crying and he's- and he's-

And 'Suho' squints at him with his odd little face and says, "I think you need a nap."

And Javier would tell him that he cannot sleep, but then the man starts reciting some sort of... spell...

What... is concrete...?

"Go to sleep, boop!"

[ramblebramblefun]

It dimly begins to register in Lloyd's mind that Javier wants him. It triggers the terrible realisation that Lloyd wants him too. The bastard. It's those stupid good looks of his, he swears.

It makes it hard to look away.

Now that he knows what he wants though, well. It's time to do what Lloyd always does when he wants something since coming to this world.

It's time to scheme.

Lloyd is very good at scheming, as Javier could tell you.

Somehow he's found himself crowding his lord up against a wall, both of them faintly flushed. He's terribly, terribly aware of the rapid way both of their hearts are beating (because Lloyd is alive and Javier would burn the world to keep it that way, so help him.)

And because the two of them have been terribly, frighteningly in tune with each other for quite some time these days, it is very clear to Javier what both of them want.

But he just can't do it.

He is a knight.

He is Lloyd's knight, yes, and he's aware that he's no longer quite so- Lloyd would say uptight, and Javier cannot think of a better word right now, with their faces so terribly close together- but he's a knight. Knights don't- he can't-

But then Lloyd's face starts to crumple and turn away. But then his hands come up to Javier's chest to shove at him because Javier's lack of action has hurt him and that is-

Unacceptable.

...

'This bastard's good at everything,' Lloyd thinks dazedly. There's a hand on his chin to tilt his face up and another around his waist to pull their chests flush together and a tongue in his mouth and he should probably breathe. Somehow. Through his nose, that's right, he's got to... Goodness, if he stops breathing then Javier would stop kissing him and that would be awful. He'd never get the bastard to do it again. Fucking stupid knightly honour, breathe Lloyd, that's it. You know how to fucking breathe. You spend everyday with the most breathtaking man in the world, you'd be dead if you couldn't get over it.

Bastard. If Lloyd dared to open his eyes right now he'd probably still look all perfect and pretty. Lloyd probably looks like a fucking lobster with how hot his face feels.

Then Javier shifts their bodies just so and all of Lloyd's higher brain functions go flying out the window.

It's a very good night from there.

[ramblebramblefun]

Here lies now the mask. Shattered

Like the shards that flake now off your face.

Were you

Ever real? Was there ever a man

To stand behind those taunts? Tell me

Who wields the blade? Or tell me

Does the blade wield you? I see

The last tear sliding down your face,

The last flake to fall.

There are only bones and will now. And a knife in the back.

But once there were eyes so blue

And a man I thought I knew

Crumbling beneath the weight of my ambition.

- may victory be ever yours... Deliverer...

[ramblebrambleamble]

Venti being good friends with the Hexenzirkel does explain why Alice and Rhinedottir dumped their respective children in his domain. If something goes terribly wrong, they can of course count on the local friendly Anemo Archon to do something to nudge things back on course. He's dutifully held onto his position for all these years and is unlikely to depose himself, unlike that poor Rex Lapis, have you caught a glimpse of him lately, he looks positively awful. That poor man is long overdue for a vacation.

Klee has no fear of heights, for if she falls the wind will always catch her. She tries not to fall though. Mommy says that sometimes the wind is sleeping and it's rude to wake it up if you don't have to, so try to be careful, okay, darling?

Dear Venti used up a lot of energy helping Dvalin fight Durin and the other monsters released with the fall of Khaenri'ah, after all.

Rhinedottir is not the least bit sorry, really, it was all in the name of science, but she will concede that it was perhaps a bit rude not to give some people notice before letting her creations run rampant through their territory. She sends a note to Venti before leaving Albedo there, as a courtesy. She doesn't think Albedo will cause Venti any trouble, but he can't say he wasn't warned if something does happen.

Venti wakes up with the fantasy equivalent of a post it note stuck to his forehead. He takes a look at Albedo and agrees; the boy won't cause Mondstat any trouble at all. And if he does, well. He's a Knight of Favonius. He's Varka's problem. And then Jean's, but Jean has a good head in her shoulders. Venti could roll over and go back to sleep if he wanted.

What I do want to know is, who dumped their kid on Mondstat(Venti) first? Was it Rhinedottir, who only cared that the place was stable and therefore would allow Albedo to focus wholly on his journey of self-actualization, and then Alice came along and was like, great! He's sturdy, he can help the Knights babysit!

Or did Alice saddle the Knights with nigh-eternal babysitting duties and then as far as Rhinedottir is concerned Alice had done the vetting of the place for her and dumped Albedo there and left. And then Albedo found out that basically his cousin Klee was there and was like, ah, makes sense, and allowed himself to be appointed elder brother.

[ramblebrambleamble]

"I am increasingly convinced that our Yiling Patriarch was a victim of the Core-Melting Hand," Wen Jing sighed, tapping her fan lightly against her palm.

She had the motion down to a fine art. The chains on her wrists didn't even rattle.

"Do we... Tell Yao-ge?" Mo Xuanyu ventured.

Wen Jing favoured him with a viper's grin.

"Of course not. He'll only tell that Su Minshan, and then we'd lose the opportunity to kill the little pest later."

"Oh?" Xue Yang grinned, leaning forward.

Wen Jing tapped the soot-smudged diagram before her.

"If this is meant to be a viable technique, something our Yiling Patriarch could actually use..."

She poked Mo Xuanyu in his lower dantian.

"Well, he certainly couldn't have had a golden core. If any of us were foolish enough to try this, the backlash from circulating that much resentful energy through our meridians would kill us."

She gestured at the diagram.

"Put it aside. We can give it to that Su Minshan if we want a subtle way to kill him. He's an arrogant guy, after all. Almost as arrogant as our Yiling Patriarch. He's sure to take the bait, if we leave the technique lying out in the right place."

Xue Yang swept the parchment to one side, still grinning. Mo Xuanyu looked thoughtful.

"That must be why..."

"Hm?"

"Ah! Um, I was just thinking, is that why Wei Wuxian refused to carry his sword? It would have cleared so many things up, and Yao-ge would have had a much harder time getting rid of him... But if he didn't have a golden core..." Mo Xuanyu trailed off, frowning at the ground.

One hand clutched involuntarily at the place Wen Jing had poked.

"Our Yiling Patriarch was a weird guy even before he started out on his ghost path. Why he didn't just confess to the injury and be done with it is beyond me." Wen Jing shrugged, silently, artfully, and turned towards Xue Yang.

"But enough about that. You've been awfully quiet all day. What is my terrible little A-Yang thinking about?"

Mo Xuanyu twitched, peering nervously at his fellow student now that Wen Jing had reminded him.

Xue Yang smiled. It was not reassuring.

"Nothing, Jing-jie," he said cheerfully. "I was just thinking... How would Jing-jie like to go outside?"

Wen Jing raised a single eyebrow.

"Outside? I don't think your Meng Yao would approve."

"My Meng Yao," Xue Yang drawled, "is getting far too boring. I want to have some fun."

He leaned in very close to Wen Jing's face, pretending to smile sweetly.

The expression had far too much fang as he continued in a wheedling voice.

"Doesn't Jing-jie want to have some fun?"

"Jing-jie would like to live as long as possible," Wen Jing replied with narrowed eyes.

"We've almost finished going through the Yiling Patriarch's notes," Mo Xuanyu ventured hesitantly. "Once we're done..."

He hunched in on himself. He didn't want to think that Yao-ge would do such a thing but...

Someone who would marry their own sister to keep their place probably wouldn't hesitate to dispose of their brother. In all probability, Yao-ge likely already had.

Poor Zixuan-ge. Mo Xuanyu wished he could have met him.

And anyway, even if Yao-ge didn't kill him, there was still another sibling he wouldn't hesitate to harm. Xue Yang called her jie to make fun of Mo Xuanyu, but Wen Jing really was Mo Xuanyu's older sister even if she wasn't always very nice to him, but no one was very nice to him in Jinlintai so that part didn't really matter.

He'd thought that he was getting a family, when Jin Guangshan sent for him.

He still wants one.

If he tries to tell poor Qin Su what's happened to her, Yao-ge will kill him for sure. If he helps Xue Yang let Jing-jie out, then... Then he could, maybe, slip out later to meet her without anyone the wiser.

If Wen Jing, all bitter pride and sharp tongue, is all the family that Mo Xuanyu gets to keep, then so be it. He'll be the most filial little brother ever. He'll- He'll-

He'll free the Ghost General from Xue Yang's nails! The Ghost General was a Wen, after all. Jing-jie's family. So freeing him for her would definitely be a filial thing.

He nods to himself. Yes, he can do that- ah.

He's getting ahead of himself. Jing-jie is still trapped here, after all, and she's staring at him. Xue Yang is staring him, which is infinitely more frightening.

"Is Yu-yu having an idea?" The monster croons.

Yu-yu is going to get rid of this guy as soon as possible, Mo Xuanyu thinks, but doesn't dare say.

Over Xue Yang's shoulder, Wen Jing smiles.

[ramblebrambleamble]

Too weak to give in (too strong to lose)

You lost your innocence, your peace of mind

(Some parts of you they'll never find)

And so you follow another's plan

That must surely reach fruition,

Because otherwise you must bear the weight

Of narrative absolution.

And as you are finally brought to heel

The protagonist finally allows themselves to feel

Relief right through to their bones-

But you still feel you must atone.

For you, the journey has just begun

To feel worthy of walking in the sun-

No matter how hard they surely fought

To bring their quest to fruition,

You do not feel satisfied

By narrative absolution.

You walk out of one page and onto another.

Some give you sisters and others brothers;

One thousand fics to break you down,

And more to build you up;

One thousand just to break your heart,

And more to say, enough.

Ten thousand more to love you

And ten thousand more to say

That surely you have done enough;

That you should go home, some day.

And so once more you're slowly walking

Through those gates that stand despite

Every time you ever tried to snuff out all the lights,

And you find that he is waiting with a grin just like the sun

And finally you allow yourself to think, I'm not the only one.

[ramblebramblefun]

Uchiha Shisui, Shunshin no Shisui, capital S-ranked menace, like all of his clansmen, did all of his practicing in the Uchiha clan's private training grounds. Proprietary clan techniques and all that.

So when the rumour got around that he had booked out the public training ground seventeen for the entire day, naturally every shinobi in the village just happened to be in the area, innocently wandering past on their way to other, naturally more important places, but since they were here, surely Shisui wouldn't mind?...

Shisui might have minded, at some other time, but at this time he was too involved in what he was doing to care overmuch about legions of nosy comrades. It wasn't like he was doing anything worth hiding. Or hideable.

Parents tended to freak out if their children vanished off the face of the earth, after all.

And as for what Shisui was doing worth an entire village's attention? Well. He was just innocently running a tournament bracket between a small army of Academy students. For no particular reason.

It was a lot more dangerous than it sounded. All of the children were armed, and none of them had the experience to know how to pull their punches.

Shisui's shunshin technique was getting a workout today, as he once more deflected a small pink civilian girl's hopefully unintended attempt to straight up murder Hyuuga Neji.

Sure, the kid was a prick, but it would be Shisui's head on the chopping block if anything happened to him.

Well. Anything serious. A little bruising didn't count, as the pink girl - Sakura, that was her name - let go of her kunai and neatly spun around Shisui to absolutely whale on the biggest brat in all the land.

It would be good for him, Shisui decided; mentally crossed him off the list and-

Deflected a different small civilian girl's attempt to murder his baby cousin. Forget the Hyuuga clan. If Sasuke got whammed, Itachi would make Shisui's death long and painful.

What was it about this year's crop of baby kunoichi that was making them so violent? Have little girls always contained this much rage? Raiko always seemed perfectly calm...

Maybe he should abandon the traditional 2:1 gender ratio and just let them all be girls. Raiko surely wouldn't mind. Maybe he could convince them to all wear matching outfits and follow him in a line within the village. That would be cute, right?

As their jounin-sensei, he would have that authority, probably. Something to ponder, he thinks, absentmindedly flickering between an asshole cousin and yet another murderous clanless girl.

Seriously, what was with these kids?

[ramblebramblefun]

"I don't trust that little shit any further than I could throw him." Bakugou hissed.

Personally Eijirou has seen Bakugou throw Midoriya quite far, not that being pitched like a baseball had seemed to bother him much.

He'd just bounced back to his feet, waved, and trotted off to run what Bakugou swore had to be some very suspicious errands, "that little nerd never leaves his house."

Ejirou sees Midoriya out of his house all the time. He's a jogger. Eijirou jogs with him sometimes if they happen to be going in the same direction.

He didn't say that to Bakugou though. Sometimes the explosions were just not worth it, particularly when they were supposed to be on patrol, not whatever... That had been.

Midoriya hadn't even been doing anything.

Also, if Bakugou really thought Midoriya was plotting world domination or whatnot, he wouldn't keep handing him classified files, authorised personnel only, must NOT leave the building, like they were some kind of candy a nicer guy would bestow upon small children.

Bakugou doesn't even like small children. He's always complaining how sticky they are, even as he scoops them up and mutters soothing nonsense at them until the appropriate caregiver can be found.

Bakugou is a weird guy.

[ramblebramblefun]

He's Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

He's a hero.

He hasn't always acted like one.

Midoriya Izuku; how he'd scorned the name. Deku; useless, quirkless, nerd, loser. Number one cheerleader, too, not that Katsuki had ever appreciated one damn thing about it. Sure, there had been something a lot like stalking in the middle there, and the notebooks, and Katsuki's big fat fucking ego and whatever they say about seeing forests and trees...

Katsuki figured out his own damn quirk. He'd never needed some nerd shouting "Kacchan!" to tell him all of its possibilities; like he'd told Endeavour, he'd only ever wanted to know what he couldn't do, what natural talent and hard work wouldn't overcome.

It would have been nice, though. In hindsight. Talking it out with Izuku, down by that damn river as summer dragged on.

You don't have to need something to want it. To want it real fucking bad. Katsuki knew that, somewhere in his puffed up head, but he didn't know it like he does right here, right now, blood dripping everywhere.

If he could turn back time-

But he can't. He won't ever be able to take that hand, and he's never going to have a summer like that, just being with the nerd, notebooks and all, trying not to fall flat on his face trying out all the off-the-wall shit that Izuku could come up with in his twisty nerd mind.

Fuck.

Fuck, he wants it. And he can't have it. It's not fucking-

Fuck fair. Nothing is ever fucking fair. Everything Katsuki's ever done, all the shit he's said, and he still gets to be a fucking hero, so fuck it all. He's Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!

He's a hero.

He's a hero. He has to focus. The fate of the whole damn world depends on it.

And this might just be a stalling action, an entree to the ass-kicking that will no doubt ensue when Izuku gets here and loses his shit again, but that's fine.

Anything to win.

Because Bakugou Katsuki has to win.

Right, Izuku?

[ramblebramblefun]

"Oh... Hey, Kacchan..."

"You. Are a fucking idiot." Kacchan seethes, and Izuku is lifted into the air by a pair of uncompromising arms.

Kacchan is still more comfortable than the ground, though. Izuku gives himself a moment or three to breathe in the smell of smoke that accumulates on Kacchan after battle. Kacchan is warm, and alive, and it's... Comforting.

Kacchan starts walking steadily, not jolting Izuku even a little bit as he takes him- actually, where is Kacchan taking him?

"Um, Kacchan... Where are we going?"

"The fucking HOSPITAL! Where the fuck do you think?!"

Wow, Kacchan's in an even worse mood than usual. But Izuku doesn't need to go the hospital! He only got a little bit scratched up, a lot of other people had it way worse.

"I'm fine! The hospital will be really busy anyway after that attack... I don't want to bother them..."

"You don't want to-"

Kacchan stops abruptly. He also stops walking, giving the space ahead of him a thousand-yard stare.

"This is All Might's fault." He says in a flat voice.

What?! Izuku bristles.

"How is this All Might's fault? I'm fine, really, you can just put me down and I'll-"

"Fucking crawl home and die?" Kacchan drawls, face like a thunderstorm in progress.

Shit is not just coming Izuku's way, he is in the shit. Ah, crap, he has to- how is he going to-

Kacchan just tightens his grip when Izuku tries to wriggle out of his hold, and Izuku just doesn't feel up to exerting the kind of force it would take to get out. He's tired, okay? Not hospital tired, just regular tired, and it's been a long day and he doesn't want to end it out-stubborning Kacchan.

That never ends well. For anyone.

Well. In the short term it doesn't. Long term-

Come on, Izuku. You became a hero. You can escape Kacchan- ow, owowow, okay, he gets it, stop squeezing him!

"Dumbass."

Kacchan looked him dead in the eye.

"You're both self-sacrificing idiots. The old fuck shoulda- ugh! I can't with you. Fucking stupid..."

Kacchan continues muttering curses against All Might's name under his breath as he starts walking again. It's fascinating. Is this what it's like to listen to Izuku when he gets going?

Wow, Kacchan knows a lot of cusses- wait, no, All Might. He's cussing out All Might, Izuku should-

When he opens his mouth, Kacchan glares down with all the wrath of a thousand burning suns.

Izuku shuts his mouth. He will defend All Might's honour later, when Kacchan is less mad, over nothing, because Izuku is fine.

Really, Kacchan, there is no need for you to-

OW!

[ramblebramblefun]

Bakugou Katsuki lived his life by a scorched earth policy. He left all his bridges burning behind him on his way to the top, and now that he’s there, he’s eyeing a long, long fall.

Because the thing about being at the top is that there is nowhere to go but down.

Down, down, down, like the rest of his graduating class. Within the span of five years, death, forced retirement and what had to be a fucking manufactured scandal have all but eradicated the heroes that Ground Zero graduated with.

The reporters keep asking him to make a fucking comment but Ground Zero never lets them finish the question.

Time goes on.

The top ten empties, refills. Rearranges itself and plays the system. Fucks around and finds out.

Katsuki still doesn't watch the news, but he takes to searching up the names of his old classmates to see what's become of them.

There's fewer and fewer names to check on, and if it were any other class an investigation would be opened into the attrition rate but fuck 3-A, right?

It’s got to be a fucking conspiracy.

It's just him and Freezerburn left soon, the latter still sitting pretty at number five and like hell is anybody that consistent.

Being number one is easy. You just have to be better than the next guy.

Being number five exactly for multiple years running, on the other hand, is some kind of bullshit. Like hell is Todoroki consistently both outperforming whoever’s number six and underperforming number four. The extras in those positions are always changing, you’d need some kind of spreadsheet keeping track of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses in order to calculate their-

Not that Katsuki fucking cares about Todoroki’s theoretical statistical analyses of his opponents. Or the stuck-up bastard himself. Todoroki can go to hell.

He used to want to be number one, too. Didn’t matter if it was just to prove a point to his old man, he used to have ambition.

Frezzerburn’s refusal to advance beyond fifth place had certainly seemed to drive the man that was Endeavour mad. That was a kind of winning, Katsuki had supposed. Problem is, Todoroki kept that shit up even after his old man kicked the bucket and he didn't need to be mediocre any more.

Katsuki had been hoping for a real rival, once Endeavour was in the ground. Drove him mad when he didn't get it. PR team reamed him out for that one, but fucking-

They don’t get it. No one fucking gets it.

Bakugou Katsuki keeps watch at the top of his fortress year on year, but not one hero comes to challenge him. He watches them all squabble at the base for the number two spot instead, talking shit like second place means a goddamned thing.

Fuckers. At least Endeavour fucking tried.

Freezerburn, son of the man who never gave up, does not. Try, that is. The fucking bastard.

Doesn't even put up a fight now that Katsuki’s out of the running.

Because Katsuki’s out of the running. He’s not a fucking hero anymore. He’s out. He’s done. Not by fucking choice, but them’s the fucking breaks when you blow the fucking whistle.

Turns out there really was a conspiracy against class 3-A.

[ramblebramblefun]

"Parallel processing!" Deku chirps. He proceeds to blather on at the reporter until Bakugou slaps a hand over his mouth and drolly condenses it down.

"He figured some shit out the last time we worked under Endeavour, and he's hopin' to do it again."

"And what about you?" The reporter asks.

Bakugou Katsuki sneers.

"That old man can't teach me shit."

Then why, Enji wonders, are you here?

The impromptu interrogation only gets worse from there, until Deku steps in, gently stealing the reporter's microphone and pretending to interview Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight himself.

Bakugou has a little more patience for Midoriya than for the general population, but Midoriya soon says something that makes Bakugou shout, lunging for the 'little shit' and causing the green-haired boy to duck behind Shouto with a grin.

Bakugou does not immediately shove Shouto out of the way, which says a lot about how much he respects Enji's son if you know him well.

Enji has been obliged to know Bakugou Katsuki a lot more than he cares for.

The boy is the most irritating person in all of creation. However, in the past, if you had taken Shouto off the table and asked Endeavour to, objectively, choose the child most like himself, Bakugou Katsuki is, reluctantly, the one he would have chosen.

Enji knows better, now.

Midoriya Izuku hides it well behind his smile, but the boy is driven by a wrath equal to Endeavour at his worst.

All Might does not understand how badly it could have turned out. Nor, Enji believes, does he truly appreciate how lucky they are that Bakugou Katsuki was able to be salvaged. That the boy saved All Might’s life is irrelevant; it’s what would have happened when the battle was over and Midoriya was forced to face a world without his ‘Kacchan’ in it.

A world in which in he had failed to save everyone.

Deku, like Endeavour, is driven by a singular furious ambition. That he believes that he wants to save everyone for everyone, well...

Well. Enji's self-delusions were never half so grand, but in the end...

In the end, all is well. Bakugou Katsuki got back up, Deku came down on Shigaraki like the wrath of God, society was saved, and Endeavour is still granted the title of 'hero' by the public.

Endeavour is still granted the title of hero by the public. Todoroki Enji has faced no true punishment for the things he did to his sons... And his daughter...

It's hard to tell, sometimes, with Fuyumi. She has always put on a smile for him, and in the past Enji had not cared enough to look further into how she might be feeling. Or listen, on the rare occasion that Fuyumi dared to open her mouth, to how he was hurting them.

He should... apologise to her as well.

Natsuo meanwhile has gone no contact, as is his prerogative, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. Enji would have liked to meet the young woman who had caught his eye, and just generally…

Well. Natsuo is still speaking to Rei, so he isn’t totally devoid of the parental support long owed him, and Rei is kind enough to let Enji know that their son is doing well.

…

Enji has never deserved that woman. He should have let her be from the start, should never have dragged anyone else into his obsession, should have simply been a better man, but it’s not like he has a time machine.

It’s just another reason that he must live his life in atonement. He will draw the heat, he will draw the fire and, God willing, his family will be able to live in peace.

Away from him.

------

There’s one more member of the mess that Enji made, and he is farther now from Enji’s reach than all the rest.

Todoroki Touya, Dabi, the flame villain, succumbed to his injuries six months after the total defeat of the League of Villains.

It was much longer than any of the doctors had predicted. Enji did not find it within himself to be surprised. All of his children had inherited his stubbornness in one form or another.

At least this time they all got to say a proper goodbye, not that Touya had seemed to appreciate it. He’d spat insults at them and swore to come back to haunt them as Dabi once again.

But this time there was no Garaki and his cursed miracles. Todoroki Touya was turned to ash for the final time.

Enji still visits him regularly, as he’d promised, and thinks of how things could have been.

------

When Enji shakes himself off and glances over, Bakugou and Shouto are still engaged in a standoff and the reporter is taking advantage of the stillness to try and get their microphone back from Midoriya.

Midoriya, without looking like he's doing it on purpose, shifts the microphone to his other hand and leans over to Shouto's other side.

Enji has been obliged to know Midoriya far too well as well. Somehow this particular reporter has pissed the boy off, likely when they were questioning Bakugou earlier.

Midoriya is quietly, obsessively, over-protective of the lauded Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, final defeater of All for One.

The reporter is not going to get their microphone back.

It doesn't matter. Endeavour can afford ten thousand microphones, if need be, and there are worse ways to show your displeasure. So long as the boy doesn't make a habit of it, it's barely Enji's problem.

It's time to wrap this up.

"Shouto." He calls.

His son doesn't look away from where he is staring blandly into Bakugou's eyes. That's... Fine. Enji's lucky that he wanted to do his work study with him in the first place.

"Deku! Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!"

Bakugou doesn’t offer him so much as a side-eye. Midoriya is the only one to make it look like he's giving Endeavour his attention, but he is almost certainly paying more mind to the reporter's repeated attempts to snatch back their microphone.

"We need to complete our patrols. Thank everyone for their time and follow me."

Midoriya gives the reporter and their cameraman a signature Deku smile. He speaks into the microphone before holding it out to Shouto and Bakugou in turn.

Bakugou reacts like he's been handed a live rat. Someone will need to beat interview protocols into his head before he graduates, but it's not something Enji has ever particularly cared for either. It can be UA's job. It should be UA's job.

…

Enji resigns himself to an unpleasant attempt at conversation with the boy later, and turns to fire away. There's a boom and a crackle and a hiss behind him.

It’s time to go.

[ramblebramblefun]

"I'd follow that guy to hell." Bakugou said tiredly. There was no need to specify who he was talking about.

Then his face contorted into a much more familiar expression.

"I just wish he'd stop going there!"

Where Bakugou found the energy to be mad at a time like this, Ochako would like to know. She's exhausted.

She pats his back wearily instead of saying this. No more shouting. Please.

Bakugou Katsuki is a changed man these days. Some might even say a broken one. He slumps back down rather than slapping her hand away at any rate, and Ochako is a woman who knows how to take her wins when she gets them.

But he's right. It would be great if Izuku would stop bungee-diving into hell every five minutes.

"We'll have to move if we want to catch up to him," she groans. She does not particularly feel like moving.

Bakugou grumbles a similar sentiment beside her. Then he's on his feet, before her, because this guy has to be first in everything. He offers her a hand though and, well.

She'll take the win.

[ramblebramblefun]

"I'll surpass All Might and become the richest hero ever!"

That's what Bakugou Katsuki says, in a world where he grows up alongside one Midoriya Izuku.

In a world entirely devoid of a certain green-haired 'damn nerd', Bakugou Katsuki did not need to say such things out loud.

Everybody already fucking knew it.

Bakugou Katsuki is, was, and always will be number one, top of the charts in any arena he cares to enter, and the stage that he desires to dominate is the same as it ever was and will be, whether or not there’s anyone for him to call Deku.

Bakugou Katsuki goes to the vaunted UA academy, and leaves everyone who meets him there choking on his dust.

Yeah, maybe Freezerburn and a couple of others gave him a run for his money for a minute, but Katsuki has never been anything but a hard worker. Practice, practice, practice turns natural talent into a fortress of steel that no one can crack.

Katsuki will just blast you off the balustrades.

He goes to UA, and he graduates, and he enters the fray that is the hero billboard rankings with a bang he’s pretty sure the whole world heard.

All Might has the good sense to retire before Ground Zero can knock him down, but Endeavour? Katsuki blasts that piece of shit to smithereens.

Not literally. That would be bad PR. The press team gets on his case enough as it is.

Speaking honestly, as Katsuki does, there were probably a few more other heroes in between 'graduation' and 'top of the charts', but Katsuki hadn't bothered to remember any of those extras' names. No fucking point.

The rest of his graduation class had come surging up behind him, after all. Katsuki has only ever associated with the best. Hawks whomst? Gang Orca? Best Jeanist?

Well. Maybe Katsuki did know that last one. Internships had been embarrassing, but, in hindsight, he had, perhaps, learned something there.

Anyway.

Bakugou Katsuki becomes the fucking best, the way everyone always knew he would be. Undisputed number one, that's him. Top of the heap in every way.

The praise comes thick and fast, for every little thing, the way it always has ever since his quirk came in, but it's nothing he hasn't heard since long before conquering All Might's fucking mountain of a molehill and frankly, he's kinda sick of hearing it.

Blah blah blah, Ground Zero is an amazing insert-here, saved twenty people today, same as he did yesterday, and the day before that, yadda yadda we can't wait to see where the youngest number one hero goes from here-

He stops watching the news.

He stops watching the news, and so he's the last to know when a building collapses on top of fucking Uravity.

…

He hates being last. That's all. That's why he doesn't attend the funeral, that's why he-

...

Ururaka Ochako had been a worthwhile opponent in their high school spars. Her thirst for the top had been as great as Katsuki's, and it was a thrill to compete against her.

She'd just opened her own agency. Broke the top ten. Come within spitting distance of-

...

He'd been looking forward to having competition. That's all.

...

Uravity is not the first person from their high school class to die. That would be the four-eyed hypocrite who got himself murdered in first year.

Uravity is not the last to die, either. Next up is Tailman, sniped by some bitch they never catch. There's nothing for Katsuki to blast.

Then Red Riot gets gassed, Grape-face gets squashed flat, and Chargebolt doesn't die, but he does fry himself so badly that he'll never live independently again.

Didn't even win the fight, that moron-

It's like a fucking conspiracy against Katsuki’s graduating class specifically. Like a whole lot of someones had some kind of grudge, because... What? They were too successful? They'd blasted the older pros out of the water, but that was no reason to-

Tsukiyomi's Trigger bust goes wrong next. They send Ground Zero in the morning after, in case Dark Shadow is still active after one hell of an overdose. The twerps had shot the shadow hero chock-full of it in their escape, and, well.

They didn’t escape.

…

Dark Shadow wasn't there, by the way. She was Tokoyami Fumikage's quirk, and Tokoyami Fumikage was dead.

Katsuki doesn't go to his funeral, either.

[ramblebramblefun]

Outtake from Scorched Earth Policy. I've decided the Kamino Ward incident isn't triggered by Bakugou getting kidnapped in it.

-----

"Now, it's your turn."

All Might's eyes pierced right through the screen and into Izuku's soul. His finger was pointed right between Izuku's eyes.

The Symbol of Peace was done. Now it was-

"Now that's more like it."

Izuku whipped his head to the side.

Right, Kacchan-

"Helluva way to go, right?" Kacchan turned towards him, eyes a little too wide and smile-

Kacchan was smiling. It was a very Kacchan smile. A little bit mad where the corners of his mouth cut into his cheek.

"They'll be puttin' that in the history books for sure."

"Wha-"

"I mean, if you're gonna go, you go out with a bang, right?"

Kacchan looked pale. It was like he'd seen a ghost or something. Actually, he should probably see a doctor. Like, right now. He'd just got rescued from being kidnapped, that can't have been good for him, Izuku is a terrible friend-

"Yeah, that's how he shoulda gone out. Just like that..." Kacchan was talking to himself. What did that even mean?

Time to see a doctor.

"Okay, Kacchan!" Izuku chirps, sounding much more chipper than he feels, and oh, god, this is it, isn't it? Saving people with a smile.

"Let's go see a doctor, okay?"

"Huh? I feel fine."

Izuku's eyes squint as he forces his smile wider.

"You look constipated. Stop that."

Izuku's shoulders slump. Okay, so not like that then.

"You really should see a doctor though. It's protocol. We learned this in class the other day. You literally beat it into all of our heads."

It's Kacchan's turn to look constipated. But he really does look terrible, and Izuku can be very stubborn when he wants to be.

"C'mon, Kacchan. Chop chop! Time's a-wasting!"

"I am a terrible influence on you." Kacchan says, in a familiar, mildly annoyed Kacchan tone.

"I don't see you moving~!"

[ramblebramblefun]

Fly until your wings give out

Fly until there is no doubt

You were the greatest there ever was

Fastest hero loyal dog

Murderer and masterpiece

Racing just to find some peace

Against the clock against the wind

You will not break you will not bend

Each feather that you fiercely shed

The colour of the blood you bled

The sweat the tears the aching hope

That it's all worthwhile - and then you choke

Upon the leash, upon the air -

It's a pity you flew so fast, my dear.