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She stares at him for a long moment, something unrecognizable flittering across her face before it fades away. "How much do you remember?" He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, even though there are no words in his head to speak. He feels empty, like someone reached inside his chest and ripped a part of him out—oh.
“Fine, but do you like anybody?” his mom asked, with villainy in her voice comparable to any diabolical criminal Katsuki had ever thrown out a plateglass window under the terms of his provisional heroism license.
Luckily, this particular question Katsuki had prepared for the minute Honesty Policy’s quirk was explained to him. Her victims can’t stop telling the truth, said the EMT on-site, their tone neutral as they shone a penlight in Katsuki’s eyes. Great for asking for people’s bank account passwords. You’re in for a tough week before the chemical agent flushes out of your system—but I guess there are a lot of ways to say the same thing, right?
Izuku frowns. “I want to go out. I can’t stay trapped inside here for the rest of my life.”
“It’s been a week, asshole,” Katsuki says, completely unimpressed. “You’re lucky you have the rest of your life back, so stop whining and help me pick up this shit.”
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you the most,” Midoriya said.
“Is that right,” Katsuki enunciated slowly, purposely making it sound like he was speaking to a child who didn’t know the language. “And why is that?”
Midoriya’s eyes lit up.
“Because I think you’re amazing and I can’t wait to beat you into the ground.”
It's over. The war is won. Katsuki steals into Izuku's hospital room.
"I could do it right this time, Deku. I swear."
Bitterly, he thinks that perhaps cruelty is best served like this: with the world still spinning on its axis and the space beside him unoccupied. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it should be worse.
Perhaps all this is simply retribution.
Katsuki grants wishes. There, he’s said it. No, he’s not a genie, or a fairy, or something you think you can just summon. He likes to think he’s the Room of Requirement, but like, for humans, and yes, okay, maybe he’s slightly bitter he can’t grant his own wishes, because that’s kind of bullshit.
Katsuki takes it as permission. He takes the cloth to Deku's lashes with a gentleness almost painful, this trembling kind of restraint his hands were never meant for.
“You kissed the other me? You wanted to? I—why?” Deku’s squeezing his hands so tight, Katsuki wonders if he’s even noticed, or if it’s another thing that he does without thinking because he’s nervous, and he doesn’t know how to not be.
“He liked me,” Katsuki says quietly. “And he was you.”
That’s all it took.
Izuku is just trying to survive his surgical residency.
ARE THE TOP TWO HEROES IN JAPAN DATING? the headline reads. The picture they run is rather flattering, the two of them beaming at each other after a mission, grimy, exhausted, but happy. Midoriya is wiping a trail of blood off of Bakugou’s cheek, and Bakugou is giving him a soft, frustrated, reluctantly grateful look.
It's 12:15am, and Midoriya Izuku is missing.
The goal is to let Izuku focus on his own worth instead of the love from others. It starts off perfectly fine - that is, until Izuku has a one-night-stand with Katsuki, his apartment building neighbor.
His mother’s in the living room drinking coffee. Katsuki kicks off his shoes and stomps over. “Am I charming?” he demands, blocking the TV.
Mitsuki pats his cheek. “Oh, hon. Not at all.”
“I want to,” Bakugou starts. His voice is hoarse. “Take my relationship with Deku to the next level.”
Kirishima raises a finger, opens his mouth, puts his finger down and snaps his mouth shut. He takes a deep breath, puts his hands on his hips, and turns in a circle. “I’m sorry, what relationship?”
‘Kill them with kindness’, his mom had told him once. If that were true, Bakugou Katsuki would be stone-cold dead by now.
“Actually,” Katsuki growls, then turns to Deku with a smirk, “I was hoping you could come meet my PR lady right now. Got a moment?”
It’s too bad everyone in the room wants him dead.
“Most people assume I’m gay, and, uh, you’re correct, very much so. But another assumption is that I’m single, which is not correct, but I understand why you would think that. I have a boyfriend, I’ve been with him since high school, and he’s. A male man. I wish I could also say he was a mailman, but he isn’t, he’s a pro hero. And I’m definitely not upset over this lost opportunity for a joke. It’s going quite well, I love him very much, and he, me, so I’ve been told by him.”
He turns towards Katsuki, moonlight saturating his curls, and sets those viridian eyes on him, kind and soft and honest. “I think my entire life has been a love letter to you.”
Don’t take it, the universe commands.
Don’t tell me what to do! Katsuki snaps.
Izuku doesn’t know much about his neighbor, or anything about him really, but when Izuku finds himself locked out of his apartment, drenched from head toe in god knows what, he has no other choice but to knock on his door for help.
He might not have known much about him going in, but Izuku soon finds out that Katsuki is the coolest guy he’s ever met and he’s impossible not to fall for.
Katsuki holds up a hand. "So what you’re telling me here," he says, "is that you told Calvin Klein I would model for them. In my underwear.”
Look a little closer, that’s what future Izuku said, and that means—that can only mean, Kacchan isn’t going to start loving Izuku in some distant, far-flung future.
He already does.
“You’re a dog! You’re a fluffy little yellow dog and you’re a pain in the ass but you’re still my favourite shit-stain, yeah!”
Izuku bursts out laughing. The neighbour’s head whips around. He yelps when he sees him, tossing the dog on the couch and scrambling out of view to hide in the hall.
Izuku drops the watering can and runs back inside to find his phone.Small Might: Guys. I've decided i have a crush on my neighbour.
He doesn't get into UA. Deku leaves him behind and lives the dream alone. Katsuki picks up modelling and turns out to be surprisingly good at it, and after a while he thinks maybe he can make peace with never becoming a hero. This ain't a bad life, after all. There are stalkers and endless reporters but maybe he can make this work.
For all of six years, anyway. Then he figures out his new neighbour has green eyes and cute freckles. And then, Katsuki thinks, maybe god hates him.
in which katsuki is made to help out the student council and falls in love with izuku somewhere along the way
For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.
Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.
Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.
At age thirty-five, being at the top is…
Living alone in an apartment big enough for five. It’s closing your eyes and inhaling the crisp spring air, only to remember war-scorched skies and the metallic scent of blood. Passing by a laughing group of strangers, only to hear screams for help. Watching your colleagues around you either get married or fall apart—there’s no in-between. It’s an itch that you can’t scratch out of your skin, where old lacerations have amassed on epidermis. The ringing in your ears that doesn’t go away no matter how many times you’ve changed your hearing aids.
It’s sleeplessness even when your body is so exhausted, because your mind is on overdrive. Yesteryear’s failures are monsters breathing under your bed. The friends you let slip, the lives you couldn’t save.
The boy with green eyes
Kacchan: i miss you [2:03am]
Kacchan: that was a typo [8:16am]
Kacchan: go fuck yourself [8:17am]
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you the most,” Midoriya said.
“Is that right,” Katsuki enunciated slowly, purposely making it sound like he was speaking to a child who didn’t know the language. “And why is that?”
Midoriya’s eyes lit up.
“Because I think you’re amazing and I can’t wait to beat you into the ground.”
“I summoned you because want a boyfriend,” Izuku says and then winces at the shallowness of his own request. “I mean, I want to fall in love. I want to be assured that I’ll find someone someday who’ll love me the way I love them. Who isn’t grossed out by me. By the way I am.”
The demon tilts his head. "I offer you a place at my side. You want companionship? I give it in exchange for your soul.”
Bakugou grabs for his keys on the counter and points a threatening finger at every individual in the room. “There is one last popsicle in the freezer. I am going to get groceries to make a dinner so amazing it will literally clear your skin and cure your depression, and when I come back I am going to eat the fuck out of that popsicle. Don’t touch it.”
(Guess what they do anyway.)
Your name is Bakugou Katsuki, and you are ON TOP OF THE WORLD.
“Car-di-o-meg..aly,” Deku fumbles around the words. “I can’t see the moon with you.”
He stands there, Deku smiling tight like if he moves his tears will spill over, and they’re too young to laugh at the idea that the insurmountable obstacle in front of them is a heart that’s just too big.
“I wish things were different, sometimes. Maybe there’s a world out there in which I do know you. In which I get to choose you.”
“Yeah. That’d be—that’d be nice.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Izuku manages to smile at Katsuki, all sweet and sad. “Well, what kind of world do you come from, stranger?”
This is a story about how love works when it's running out of time.
He remembers something from his dream, but he doesn’t remember it exactly. It’s more like a feeling, a sinking in his stomach, a hold on, a warning.
His words die in his mouth.
“Are you okay?” Izuku asks, eyebrows knitting together in worry. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
As he goes, he doesn’t look behind, which is why he never sees the boy with the green hair stare at him from the branches of the wizened tree, his being fading in and out of obscurity as Katsuki disappears into the distance.
Izuku accidentally becomes Katsuki's secret cuddle buddy.
Apparently, Bakugou Katsuki is the kind of person that uses pet names when he's in a serious relationship. Who knew?
“Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”
"Deku—" The weapon presses a little harder against Katsuki's forehead and he stops, getting his bearings. "Fine. Midoriya, then. Look. I'm not going to hurt you. I swear. I'm just looking for some answers I'm hoping you can provide."
So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.
Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact.
"We're really sorry," his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. "But your friend, Izuku, he's... He's gone, son."
"Let’s be serious,” Iida says. “We all know Bakugou’s crush isn’t on Todoroki.”
"He gets drunk sometimes. And he kisses me." Eijirou stares at him. "Wow. And you don't talk about it."
"You a poet?" "Only for you."
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”
The boy next door has always been a mystery--namely because Katsuki has never seen or heard him. Despite their bedroom windows mirroring each other, Katsuki never sees the blinds move.
Izuku just wants to make it back to his dorm room unnoticed after getting roughed up. He doesn't.
They'd made progress but Izuku still knew that Katsuki would hate his birthday photos if he were in them. In the end, Katsuki has to settle for searching for Izuku in the background.
“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”
Katsuki’s first encounter with his own hanahaki came right at the end of their 2nd year at UA, and as he stands over the ceramic sink, he thinks "Of course the petals are green. What else could they have fucking been."
It's Class 2-A movie night, and Katsuki and Izuku are trying to be friends again. It becomes a comedy of errors of sorts, but a very cute, angst-less one. Including: sign language jokes, inside jokes, and extreme, unexplainable hatred of a chicken.
No matter the thought, no matter the time or place, the boys staunchly refused to lie about their thoughts. It was always the truth. Because that’s the way it went.
Izuku is kidnapped on a mission that goes awry, and Katsuki is convinced it's his fault. He has to find him, but before he gets the chance, Izuku shows up in the middle of a park, half-dead and with no memory from before his past three months under the villain's thumb. And he's scared. Of everything. His mother, his friends, his teachers, everyone.
Everyone except Katsuki.
“Is it morally reprehensible to ask out a guy you hit with your car?” Katsuki blurts as all four of them just stare at him.
After a long pause of silence, Kaminari says, “Is he cute?”
“Duh,” Katsuki answers, thinking back to all those stupid freckles and smiles. Then he thinks about ‘pretty boy’. “And possibly interested.”
Zombie apocalypse, more than a third of the population currently dead or in the state of undead, and Katsuki still somehow managed to get his shit stolen by two chicks and Freckle boy.
Fuck this new generation.
jun 3 2024 +