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BakuDeku

Villain!Deku 

COW-T #12, w6, m3: “Ne abbiamo già parlato giovedì scorso, mi sembra.” (“We already talked about this last Thursday, I think”) 

1300 parole

When Bakugou woke up, he found himself tied to a chair. 

“I can’t believe you’re for real,” he sighed, resigned. “We already talked about this last Thursday, I think. You need silk if you want to tie me up.” 

Oh, for sure, he wouldn’t have been Bakugou if the first time he hadn’t yelled and screamed at him and threaten to do unspeakable things as soon as he could free himself. But that was the first time - and the second and the third and the sixteenth. 

By now it all felt a little pointless. 

“But, Kacchan, of course I am for real. Though your complaints have been noted silk is too easy to break through,” Deku chuckled, leaving the shadows where he had villainously bidden his time to make an entrance. “And now that I’ve got you exactly where I wanted you -” 

Katsuki would have facepalmed if only he had his hands free. Not the evil monologue cliché. Not again. 

“Listen, Deku, this is getting ridiculous,” and really, it was. 

The whole situation had been absurd from the start, if he had to be honest. His childhood friend, the one that had died in trying to save him from a Sludge villain when they were only fourteen, was not dead at all. No, he had been abducted and turned into a villain himself and now he was there, specifically targeting him. 

Katsuki could have understood it - he had been an asshole, he had bullied him and he was the reason Deku had been taken who knows where and had been subject to who knows what trauma. So, yes, it did make sense for Deku to hold a grudge against him, to want to make him suffer. It was payback and Bakugou was ready to take it, damn, he was even willing to embrace it - years of guilt and regret and remorse piling up, years of ‘I could have said’ and ‘I should have done’, years spent wearing himself off over books and training, growing into the number one hero for himself as much as for Deku, because his death was his fault and he needed to atone for it.

But Midoriya Izuku wasn’t dead, and somehow he wasn’t even mad at him.  

No, it wasn’t anger and vendetta what was prompting him, and at first Bakugou at been at loss. But then, among the useless mockery his friends subjected him to - ‘Oi, you’ve been kidnapped by your boyfriend, again?’, ’I hope this time you could spent some quality time together’, ’Damn, I’m so sorry we interrupted your date with our rescue’-  Mina had said something that had him actually start thinking. 

‘Oh, he’s so obsessed with you, it could almost be cute,’ she had said and Bakugou had had to suppress the need to explode her along with all his so called friends. 

‘Cute.’ 

‘Well, I suppose it is cute, for a villain. I mean he’s not really hurting you, but that’s setting the bar a little low, don’t you think? I know that’s probably the only way he knows how to express his feelings for you, but…’

‘Fuck, not you too!’

‘Look, I’m not making fun of you. Everything he does it’s to catch your attention. And you can’t tell me you couldn’t have freed yourself on your own at least a dozen times. Instead you have always waited for us to come, and I think it’s because deep down you want to solve things out with  your Deku.’ 

Well, it had taken him a few more kidnapping to realize that yes, maybe Ashido wasn’t completely wrong; and a few more to elaborate what he was feeling. 

In the end, Mina was right and, probably - even if he would have cut his own right arm before admitting it - the other bunch of idiots that were his friends were right too.

So this time he had some semblance of a curse of action, and it all started with a ‘Listen, Deku, this is getting ridiculous.’

Deku stilled in his track. “Ridiculous?” He sounded affronted.”You -” 

But whatever retort the villain was going to make was cut off. 

“Yes, ridiculous. Let’s just fuck and be done with it.”

“E- excuse me, w- what?” Deku spluttered, blushing adorably. 

Adorably. Really. How exactly did it take almost six months for Bakugou to get it? 

“You heard me.”
“But - uh - I - are you -? I mean -” Deku babbled. “Why?” 

“What kind of a fucking villain are you, uh, Deku?” Bakugou scoffed - damn it, could he have chosen a more obvious name? - and shrugged. “You don’t kill people, you don’t steal shit. Everything you do is just a rouse to get me on the scene so you can kidnap me and, when you do, you don’t even ask for a ransom, you don’t torture me or menace to kill me. Shit, you just kidnap me to talk, and honestly this is getting old. I get it, you’re obsessed with me, damn, I’ve been obsessed with you my whole life, so let’s just get over it and fuck.” 

Deku opened his mouth to object, but kept quiet. Katsuki could ear the gears mashing in his brain from where he was restrained. 

“Come on, Izuku. Don’t be stupid.” 

“It’s a trap.”
“No. It’s not.”

“Yes, because you would tell me, if it was. But it doesn’t make sense, because you wouldn’t distract me with something so trivial. No, you wouldn’t even bother with a trap, because you prefer to be direct, you usually punch villains in the face, subtlety is not your thing, and strategy is good only in an open battle, so…” 

Katsuki smiled and then laughed.

“What?” 

“Damn, it would be endearing if it wasn’t annoying as fuck.”

“Endearing?”
“I said what I said. Don’t fish for compliments, Deku.” 

“You really mean it!” 

“Duh.”  

“You aren’t doing this out of some kind of Stockholm syndrome, are you?” 

“Deku, are you stupid?”

The villain spluttered. “I - Kacchan!” 

“Before my friends come to the rescue, if you don’t fucking mind…” 

Deku shut his mouth. It was happening. It was really happening. 

He got closer, his mouth dry, his hands shaking a little, “Should I… free you?”
“Nah, leave it. It’s kinky.”
“For real?” Izuku asked, his cheeks reddening even more.

Then Katsuki strained his neck to capture his lips and silenced him. 

Finally! Bakugou thought, years of longing, of guilt and anguish and here they were, finally kissing, finally together. 

But then there was an explosion in the building. 

Deku’s head snapped to the door. “Your friends?” 

“Damn it!”

“I need to go,” Deku looked sorry. 

“I know.” 

Deku leaned to him and kissed him again, weaving with his hand the closet in the corner of the room to shift to block the door. 

“I bought us some time,” he said against his lips. 

“You have telekinesis?!” 

Izuku smiled sheepisly. “Well, yes.” 

“Then how is it that you’re never a threat?”

“I am a threat!” 

“Yes, to my sanity!” Katsuki scoffed. 

Izuku pouted, “Oh, fine, my bosses aren’t really pleased on how I’m handling things, but honestly, they just said, get up there and make some trouble. They weren’t that specific. And I have made some trouble.” 

The door shook on its hinges and Deku sighed. “I really have to go now. See you at the next kidnapping?” 

“Couldn’t you just ask me out? Like a normal person?”
Deku opened the window and turned to look at him, with a wicked smile, “When were we ever normal?” 

And then he was gone. 

BakuDeku 

Ajin!AU (Ajin!Midoriya) 

Warnings: HEAVY ANGST, Major Character Death, mentions of killings and mutilations 

COW-T #12, w5, m2: Nessun lieto fine 

731 parole

The difficult part is watching him die. 

Katsuki had told him and Deku should have listened, should have prepared. 

It’s not like death doesn’t permeate every instant of his life, it’s not like death isn’t his constant companion. But one tends to be reckless when he knows whatever damage, whatever hurt, whatever pain could be solved by something so easy as dying and resurrecting and after all he wasn’t the one stuck with a dying partner so he didn’t really understand. 

After all it’s not really the same, not when Katsuki had explained that the difficult part was watching and waiting helplessly, wondering if this was actually his last life and if he would get back this time.

The difficult part was watching and craving to finish him off, because at this point it was just useless sufferance and it would be mercy to kill him, like a wounded animal. 

The difficult part was actually doing so - not that many times, but enough - and waiting and waiting and waiting and wondering, what if this time he doesn’t come back and it was my fault?

(The difficult part was laying awake in bed, eyes wide open in the dark, listening to his breath and asking himself if he was a murderer, if he was really a good person, if he still had a soul worth saving). 

But in the end, the difficult part was watching him die, and it shouldn’t have taken Izuku blindsided, but it does.  

*

He’s old, but not as old as he could have gotten. 

How many heroes do you know that retired with all their organs and limbs? How many do you know that get to old age and die peacefully in their beds? 

They knew what they were signing up for. All of them. 

(Well, all of them except Izuku.) 

Izuku has died so many times he has lost count, but for the first time he feels lifeless. 

They were kids together, Deku and Kacchan, two scrawny children playing and then fighting and then growing apart and then mending the bridge together. They were classmates and heroes and friends again and then so much more, but they were never alone, never without each other. 

Deku remembers their first kiss, right after his first death, at the end of the war when All for One was destroyed and Shigaraki captured but at what cost? And then Izuku had come back from the dead and Katsuki had hold onto him and had kissed him with tears in his eyes. 

Izuku had never feared death, not even when he didn’t know he couldn’t die - because some things are worth risking your life for. But now, as he hears Katsuki’s breath itch and his heart faltering and he knows there’s nothing anybody can do about it - he should have already retired, a man his age, almost sixty and still in the battlefield, what was he thinking, - Deku thinks this can’t be happening not to him, not to Kacchan. 

But it’s happening and when it’s over he finds out how to kill someone that can’t be killed. 

*

The first decade is awful. 

Damn, the first year is spent just crying. Ochaco visits, always an ice cream box in her prosthetic hands and Eijirou practically takes over the guest room to stay close to him. Sometimes along the way he knows he attends a funeral, but it takes him six month to ask whose it was. 

Mina cries, hides her wrinkled face behind her hand, a cascade of gray hair curtaining her tears. “Sero.”

Some time during the years, Denki stops coming and when he asks, Ochaco looks away and tells him he had to be hospitalized. 

Too many elettroshocks in his hero career and now he keeps mistaking his granddaughter for Kyoka and hardly knows anymore how to drink or eat or go to the toilet alone. Jirou takes him to visit her husband and Izuku thinks he’s glad Kacchan didn’t get to end like that at least, then proceeds to feel like a real shit about it. 

Time heals all wounds, they used to say, and maybe it’s true, maybe time will have him forget everyone. After all, Deku’s arm were scarred once and now they’re not anymore… 

BakuDeku

300 parole

“Pensi che verranno?" chiede Hitori sbirciando i cartellini con i nomi rimasti sulla tavola. 

"Sì, come no," Ichiro alza gli occhi al cielo e sorseggia il pessimo drink che gli hanno rifilato per sopportare la serata. "I due eroi più famosi del Giappone e mollano tutto per venire alla riunione dei vecchi compagni delle medie." 

Hitori ridacchia, "Hai letto l'ultimo articolo su Heroes Today?" 

Ichiro scossa la testa, sia per indicare che no, lui non le legge certe porcherie, sia perché il compagno di scuola in tutti quegli anni non è decisamente cambiato. Certo, non era ai livelli di Midoriya, con tutti i suoi quaderni, ma in ogni caso Ichiro non lo conosceva bene Midoriya - nessuno lo conosceva bene, non con Bakugou che gli faceva terra bruciata attorno - mentre era Hitori che quasi gli faceva cascare le orecchie ogni giorno con la sua fissazione per gli eroi. 

"Comunque c'era scritto che hanno scelto la data del matrimonio, forse è per questo che non vengono." 

"Non devi credere a tutte le stronzate che leggi, figurati se quei due stanno insieme. Te li ricordi alle medie? Sarà pubblicità." 

"Eh vabbé le cose cambiano, no?" 

"Ma, dai, Bakugou lo odiava." 

"Oi, comparsa del cazzo, levati." 

Ichiro si volta e Bakugou Katsuki è lì davanti a lui a fissarlo con occhi che se potessero uccidere lo avrebbero già ridotto in un mucchietto di cenere. 

"Kacchan, ne abbiamo già parlato, non ci si rivolge così alla gente," Midoriya arriva giusto in tempo per sentire l'ultima frase.

Solo che poi Katsuki si volta verso l'altro eroe e gli pianta un bacio sulla bocca con tanto di lingua. 

"Questo coglione pensava non stessimo insieme," dice contro le sue labbra, "Io non ci volevo neanche venire a questa cazzo di riunione." 

Midoriya si lascia scappare un sospiro. 

Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku 

Fantasy!Au 

COW-T #12, w3, m4: Unicorns prefer virgins 

La foresta è più fitta di quello che si sarebbe aspettato, ma Bakugou non è mai stato il tipo da tirarsi indietro davanti ad una sfida. Il più silenziosamente possibile avanza, tranciando le fronde che non riesce a spostare e provando forse un po’ troppo gusto a far rimbalzare quelle che invece riesce a deflette sul viso del ragazzino che incespica di dietro di lui. 

Non può lasciarlo indietro, peccato. Non può, oh così casualmente perderselo nel fitto degli alberi, perché entrambi sono lì con una missione, anche se Katuski è più che sicuro che se fosse da solo sarebbe già arrivato alla meta, checché ne dicano le profezie di spade spezzate e due facce della stessa moneta e del fatto che i prescelti siano due e uno di essi sia questo smunto ragazzino che viene da CittàCastello.

Invece Katsuki è costretto a portarselo a traino, perché a sentire i santoni della sua tribù, solo loro due, insieme, saranno in grado di trovare il Cuore della Foresta, qualsiasi cosa sia una roba con quel nome uscito dritto dritto da una leggenda, compiere il rituale per riattivarlo e scacciare le Ombre dal regno. Tutte cazzate, a sentire Katsuki, ma sua madre aveva cominciato a strillare come la vecchia gallina che era e il Re in persona era venuto con i suoi stregoni e con quel Deku maledetto al villaggio di Bakugou per unire i due prescelti e spedirli in questa missione, che francamente a Bakugou sembrava più improbabile del 

Se non fosse che a forza di girare, Bakugou arriva in una radura e si deve fermare sui suo passi, perché non è possibile. Izuku, troppo impegnato a guardarsi i piedi per evitare di inciampare in una radice, gli finisce completamente addosso. 

“Guarda dove vai, imbecille!” Bakugou sibila tra i denti, stranamente quieto, e Izuku si sporge oltre alla sua spalla per vedere cosa mai lo abbia fatto fermare così. 

Il manto della creatura è di un bianco talmente candido che sotto i riflessi del sole sembra argenteo,  della stessa metallica sfumatura del corno che gli sormonta la fronte, appuntito e accecante. 

“Ma quello è…?”

“Sh!” 

L’unicorno tende le orecchie e solleva la testa verso di loro. Non sembra particolarmente preoccupato dalla loro presenza, quasi fosse consapevole che non sono lì per fargli del male. Katsuki sente la presa sulla spada affievolirsi e poi l’arma casca a terra con un tonfo sordo, ovattato dall’erba e dalle foglie. 

L’unicorno si avvicina a loro, incede sicuro, e Katsuki sente Izuku trattenere il fiato contro la sua schiena. Ha ancora una mano posata sulla sua spalla nuda e il Cavaliere dei Draghi la sente bruciare contro la pelle. 

Katsuki non può fare a meno di pensare che un essere tanto puro in un mondo devastato dalle Ombre non dovrebbe più esistere e invece eccolo lì, fermo a guardarli con due imperscrutabili occhi scuri che dovrebbero essere vacui come quelli di un qualsiasi animale ma che al contrario brillano di intelligenza. 

Inclina la testa l’animale, quasi a chiedergli che ci facciano lì, e la sua criniera bianchissima casca di  lato irradiando un prisma di arcobaleni. Li annusa, Katsuki lo vede allargare le narici equine, e si sforza di non arrossire al pensiero che gli unicorni preferiscano i puri - perché lui di puro ha soltanto il fatto di non essere mai stato toccato da altri, con il suo linguaggio sboccato e la propensione ad attaccare briga con chiunque, sicuramente l’unicorno scapperà a gambe levate. Forse è per questo che gli hanno appioppato il ragazzino alle sue spalle, forse è lui quello puro, quello che non sa nemmeno tenere in mano una spada. L’unicorno lo fissa, sembra valutarlo e Katsuki sostiene il suo sguardo, coraggio, che lo scarti e fisica tutta questa pantomima. Poi l’unicorno rivolge lo sguardo scuro su Izuku e il ragazzo freme contro la sua spalla sotto lo sguardo indagatore dell’animale magico. 

Sono indegni e se quello è il guardiano della foresta hanno fallito e dovranno tornarsene da dove sono venuti, al villaggio, a CittàCastello, da sua madre e dal re, con la coda tra le gambe perché non erano loro gli eroi e poi - 

Poi l’unicorno spinge il muso contro la spalla di Katsuki, toccando con il naso umido la mano di Izuku. 

Il ragazzo solleva lentamente la mano per non spaventarlo e la posa sul dorso del naso, arricciando le dita in quella che potrebbe sembrare una carezza se non fosse così timorosa. 

Katsuki non ci può credere. L’unicorno gli dà un affettuosa spintarella sulla spalla con il naso bagnato e poi si sposta, arretrando. 

Alla fine gli fa cenno di seguirli con il capo. Verso il Cuore della Foresta. 

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Post chapter 327 

COW-T #12, w2, m2: I pilastri della terra

Are you laying down bricks or are you building a cathedral? 

Alla fine Kacchan lo aveva trovato.
Izuku non poteva dire di non essere sollevato, in parte. La responsabilità non era più sua, anche se sapeva di essere un pericolo per tutti, di mettere a rischio l’intera classe, l’intera scuola. Di mettere a rischio Kacchan. 

Se chiudeva gli occhi non poteva fare a meno di vederlo. Il sangue e il quirk di Shigaraki che lo trapassava da parte a parte. 

Eppure Kacchan era sempre stato testardo. Era andato a cercarlo e a riprenderselo anche se Izuku glielo aveva scritto in quella lettera il perché se ne stava andando. 

Non puoi decidere per me, gli aveva risposto lui quando finalmente erano stati faccia a faccia, da soli, mentre lo accompagnava nella sua camera, perché era talmente tanto stanco da non riuscire a reggersi in piedi da solo. 

Lo so, gli aveva risposto Izuku con un sorriso stanco. Quando mai ho potuto dirti di fare qualcosa. 

Ecco, bravo, vedi di non dimenticartelo, e poi dopo un lungo silenzio, L’altra cosa che hai scritto nella lettera… 

Izuku non avrebbe voluto parlarne. 

L’aveva scritto, certo, perché non poteva andarsene senza dire a Kacchan quello che provava, senza cercare di spiegargli perché il suo sacrificio lo avesse dilaniato, che l’idea di perderlo aveva fatto tremare le fondamenta del suo universo. Aveva custodito per sentimento per anni, eppure non gli sembrava giusto lasciarselo alle spalle senza nemmeno una spiegazione, non con quello che Katsuki aveva fatto per lui, non con il rischio di non rivedere Kacchan mai più. 

Ma adesso che era al sicuro, adesso che lo aveva rivisto, non si aspettava che Kacchan volesse parlarne. 

Dopo quello che si erano detti, dopo aver tirato fuori le viscere e curato le piaghe di dieci anni di rapporto, dopo le sue scuse, parlare di quello che aveva scritto Izuku nella lettera era una nuova crudeltà. 

Non ce n’è bisogno, Izuku aveva scosso la testa. 

Io dico di sì. 

Kacchan… 

Izuku. 

Si era fermato. Al centro del corridoio, davanti alla porta della sua camera, il braccio ancorato alle spalle di Kacchan e le gambe che gli tremavano. 

Provi ancora quello che mi hai scritto? 

Izuku avrebbe voluto ridere, come poteva chiedergli una cosa del genere, dopo tutti gli anni in cui aveva tentato di smettere di amarlo. Invece si era limitato ad assentire. 

E se… se anche io -? 

Izuku aveva sgranato gli occhi. 

Non so dirlo come lo hai detto tu, Izuku. Non sono bravo con i sentimenti, con le parole, non sono…

Non importa. A me va bene così. 

Lo aveva visto sul viso di Kacchan in quel momento, il dubbio, la paura che lo attanagliava da anni di non essere all’altezza, solo che quella volta non si trattava di diventare un eroe. 

Izuku aveva sfilato il braccio da attorno alle sue spalle per aggrapparsi al bavero della giacca della sua divisa. Gli aveva dato il tempo di allontanarsi, di cambiare idea, aveva esitato con le loro bocche così vicine da respirare la stessa aria. Poi, quando gli era sembrato evidente che Katsuki non sarebbe scappato, lo aveva baciato. 

Le sue labbra erano calde e Izuku si era immaginato quel momento migliaia di volte, senza poter mai sperare che potesse diventare niente più di una fantasia. 

Katsuki aveva risposto al suo bacio, muovendo le labbra sulle sue, infilandogli le dita tra i ricci della nuca, fino a che non era mancata l’aria ad entrambi. 

Va bene, aveva detto poggiando la fronte contro la sua. 

Vieni dentro. 

Va bene. 

Katsuki lo aveva aiutato ad aprire la porta della sua stanza. Era esattamente come l’aveva lasciata mesi prima, i vestiti piegati sulla sedia, le lenzuola leggermente stropicciate. 

Izuku lo aveva trascinato verso il letto e vi si era lasciato cadere sopra, portandoselo dietro.

Dovrei lasciarti riposare, Kacchan gli aveva detto, senza accennare ad alzarsi, senza smettere di abbracciarlo e Izuku gli si era stretto contro, nascondendo il viso nell’incavo del suo collo.

Non lasciarmi. 

Non ci penso nemmeno. 

Izuku aveva posato le labbra sulla pelle calda della sua gola e poi lo aveva assaggiato, facendo scorrere la lingua lungo il rilievo del muscolo. Katsuki aveva emesso un gemito strangolato e poi gli aveva sollevato la testa per baciarlo, la bocca socchiusa per leccare la rima delle sue labbra. 

Gli aveva posato le mani sui fianchi, dove la maglietta si sollevava a lasciare scoperta una striscia di pelle e, quando Izuku aveva approfondito il bacio, esplorando con la lingua il contorno della sua bocca, il profilo dei suoi denti, Katsuki si era sentito il cuore esplodere in petto. 

Ci aveva pensato a quella dannata lettera mentre era costretto in un letto d’ospedale, alle dannate parole tracciate con mano tremante sulla carta, a tutto quello che avrebbe detto se Deku ce lo avesse avuto davanti, a tutte le parole che non sapeva dire, i sentimenti che non sapeva esprimere. 

Ma prima di poter rispondere a quel sentimento, aveva dovuto rispondere delle sue azioni. E dopo essersi fatto un esame di coscienza, si era detto che a quel sentimento non aveva davvero diritto, non dopo tutta la rabbia e il risentimento e l’odio che aveva gettato addosso ad Izuku negli anni. Si era piccato di tenerselo per sé quell’amore codardo che lo aveva spinto a ferire la persona a cui più teneva per non soffrire lui stesso. 

Non lo aveva preparato quel discorso, come aveva invece fatto con le sue scuse, perché non aveva intenzione di farlo. Ma poi quando si era ritrovato a sostenere il suo peso, perché era troppo debole e stanco per camminare da solo fino al suo letto non era riuscito a stare zitto anche se non aveva niente da dire. 

Fortunatamente Izuku non aveva mai avuto bisogno di parole per sapere cosa lui stesse davvero dicendo. 

In quel momento, steso nel letto, con Izuku tra le braccia, Kacchan aveva pensato che avrebbe dovuto alzarsi e andarsene, che avrebbe dovuto lasciarlo riposare perché Deku doveva essere stremato, in piedi da fin troppe ore, visto le condizioni in cui l’aveva ritrovato .

Eppure non riusciva a staccarsi da lui.
Troppi mesi aveva passato senza sapere dove fosse e se stesse bene, non poteva andarsene ora. 

Kacchan, Deku si era lasciato sfuggire contro la sua bocca, e poi aveva strattonato via la sua maglietta per far passare le mani, callose e piene di cicatrici, sul suo addome. 

Ti fa ancora male? aveva chiesto quando le sue dita avevano raggiunto la ferita. 

No. 

Izuku aveva sfiorato esitante i contorni ruvidi del tessuto rimarginato. 

Mi dispiace. 

A me no.

Katsuki lo aveva baciato di nuovo, lentamente, e Izuku si era aggrappato al suo fianco attento a non premere sul tessuto fragile della cicatrice. 

È guarita in fretta, aveva detto, senza spostare la mano, La tua pelle sempre stata più resistente, per compensare l’esplosività del tuo quirk probabilmente. 

Nerd, Katsuki lo aveva preso in giro e Izuku si era rallegrato del fatto che non avesse improvvisamente smesso di essere sé stesso per trattarlo con i guanti come se fosse di cristallo. Ma Kacchan aveva sempre saputo quanto poteva tirare la corda, quali erano i suoi limiti, forse meglio di Izuku stesso con la sua autodistruttività. 

Resti? 

Che cazzo di domande fai, Katsuki lo aveva spinto via quel tanto che bastava per spostare le coperte. 

Deku si era addormentato con un sorriso sulle labbra. 

Alla fine Kacchan lo aveva trovato.

BakuDeku Hogwarts!AU  

COW-T #10, w7, m4 (Magic - Coldplay)

Wordcount: 411

Evitare il custode e i fantasmi era sempre la parte più dura, soprattuto perché tra i sotterranei di Serpeverde e la torre di Grifondoro c’era l’intero castello e quell’inutile Deku di Midoriya insisteva sempre perché si incontrassero a mezza strada. 

“Perché il bagno dei Prefetti è troppo scontato e sarà sicuramente controllato dagli insegnanti, almeno una volta per notte” aveva detto con il suo solito mugugno cantilenante che a Bakugou dava proprio sui nervi. Come se lui non sapesse che in realtà voleva solo che anche Katsuki facesse uno sforzo. 

“Dove cazzo ti pare, Deku, ma se fai perdere punti a Serpeverde ti uccido!” 

“Guarda che se ci beccano li tolgono pure a Grifondoro, eh,” aveva replicato l’altro. E oh, quanto odiava Bakugou che quello gli rispondesse a tono. “E poi l’alternativa è pur sempre non incontrarsi affatto” aveva sogghignato e poco c’era voluto perché Bakugou lo sbattesse contro il muro e se lo scopasse proprio lì, in mezzo al corridoio. 

Oh, sì, quanto odiava quando si permetteva di rispondergli a tono…  ma forse odiare non era il termine adatto - Katsuki non era mai stato bravo con le emozioni - era piuttosto un formicolio che gli percorreva l’intero corpo, quasi che la sua pelle gli si dovesse staccare di dosso, una sensazione calda che gli invadeva il petto e l’addome e i lombi e lo costringeva a mettergli le mani addosso - artigliargli il colletto, portando i loro visi così vicini da poter sentire il suo respiro sulla pelle, sentirlo alla sua mercé - per non esplodere. 

Se solo Bakugou non fosse stato un idiota si sarebbe reso conto molto prima che quello che voleva davvero fare non era picchiarlo né maledirlo, come continuava a minacciarlo. Ci era voluto tutto il coraggio che Izuku possedeva per tirarlo per i capelli un giorno che si erano ritrovati nell’ennesima discussione e chiudere la distanza tra le loro labbra. 

Come? Si era chiesto Katsuki più volte e a volte se lo chiedeva ancora. Come cazzo era finito impelagato con quell’imbecille? 

Ma il cuore ha ragioni che la ragione non conosce, o così gli aveva detto quella pazza di Mina, facendogli l’occhiolino, nonostante non dovesse saperlo nessuno che lui si stava andando ad incontrare con quel Deku di Midoriya, quel Grifondoro deficiente e senza alcun istinto di sopravvivenza. 

Come cazzo era finito impelagato con quell’imbecille? Si era chiesto più volte. Ma mai si era chiesto come uscirne.

E forse il punto era proprio quello. 

Want anybody else but you

BakuDeku 

COW-T #10, w7, m7

PART 2

Wc: 516 

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted from the toilet and there was panic in his voice, so Katsuki scrambled to his feet. 

What was it? A spider again?

But when he looked in the toilet his heart stopped. 

His boyfriend was covered in dirt and there was a cut on his cheek and blood dripping from his chuckles and he was wearing some awful green jumpsuit he had never seen before in his life and surely he hadn’t on when he had gone in the toilet ten minutes before wearing only his pajama’s pant. 

“Deku? What the fuck? Are you hurt? How are you even dressed?” 

Izuku shook his head, as if trying to make some order in his head. “Kacchan?” 

“Yes? Who the fuck where you expecting? Godzilla?” 

“Who?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“I - no. I don’t think so. Why are you half naked? Are we in a hospital?”

“Why should we be in a hospital? You are worrying me, Deku.”

“I’ve been hit by a quirk - I -” 

Bakugou just took him by his arm, and gently pulled him, maneuvering him out of the bathroom and into a bedroom. 

“Deku, I need you to breath and let me check your reflexes,” he said and helped him to sit on the bed. 

In a daze, Izuku let him. 

He didn’t know what was happening, where he was, and why Kacchan was behaving so weirdly. 

Katsuki pulled out a light and pointed it in his eyes, letting put a relieved breath as Izuku’s pupils shrinked to the size of pins. 

“Follow my finger,” he asked and Deku complied even if he was sure he hadn’t hit his head and couldn’t possibly have a concussion. 

“Ok, your head seems fine,” Katsuki said and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

Deku is so shocked he can’t even move and simply stares as Katsuki walks to the bathroom to retrieve some alcool. 

It must be the quirk fault. He’s trapped in his own head or he has been sent to another dimension, because surely this isn’t his Kacchan. 

He takes in the room, the used bed, sheets thrown everywhere, proof that two people have slept there. The dresser with too many clothes for only one person. 

The pictures framed on the bedside tables, where a carefree version of himself - one that he never was, because this has never happened - is kissing Kacchan and Kacchan is smiling back at him and not trying to kill him. 

“Here, let me tend your hand. How did you hurt yourself so bad, though? Did you fall?” 

Izuku shakes his head and Katsuki looks at him suspicious. 

“Kacchan… I think - I’m not crazy, I swear, but I think this is not the universe I’m supposed to be.” 

It takes him a proper demonstration on the existence of his own quirk to convince him to call sick at work and have Kirishima take his shift at the hospital, but then Katsuki is ready to help him out. 

The worst thing is, Izuku is not so sure he really wants to go back. 

COW-T #10 - week 6, missione 5

Prompt: Odi et amo

Prompt di scorta: W1) Femslash 

Note: genderswap

Wordcount:  310

Bakugou Katsumi ha un problema. Beh, oddio, in realtà di problemi ne ha parecchi, ma la sua migliore amica fin dall’asilo è il principale. 

Saranno gli ormoni che le circolano in corpo e che la rendono più esplosiva della glicerina che si accumula sulle sue mani, sarà che Izumi, quella Deku di merda, sembra essere sbocciata durante l’estate. È sicuramente più alta di almeno dieci centimetri e modellata come una dannata statua greca di Afrodite. 

E per di più è esattamente seduta nel banco dietro di lei, in una classe dentro la quale non sarebbe mai dovuta entrare.

“Kacchan…” 

“Taci!” Katsumi sibila, senza degnarla di uno sguardo e può quasi sentire i suoi occhi affondargli nella nuca. 

E solo certe volte le cose che le si agitano nel petto sono… troppe e lei non riesce a farsene una ragione. Perché diamine deve starle sempre addosso, quella deficiente? Perché non può lasciarle vivere la sua vita, per una volta? 

Perché deve essere sempre Kacchan questo e Kacchan quello e Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan? 

Katsumi vorrebbe afferrarla per il bavero della giacca e sbatterla contro il muro, chiederle che cazzo vuole dal lei e chiuderle quella dannata bocca una volta per tutte. 

“Perché sei qui?” Le chiederebbe, “Come hai fatto? Da quando hai un quirk, eh?” 

Non ha idea di cosa Izumi le potrebbe rispondere, ma già la vede, tremante e rossa di imbarazzo, mentre balbetta qualcosa o mette in moto uno dei suoi soliti monologhi interiori che le sfuggono sempre a fior di labbra e che fanno imbestialire Katsumi e le fanno venire voglia di morderle le labbra e riccacciarle le parole in gola con la lingua. 

Merda. 

“Kacchan…”

“Che cazzo vuoi, Deku?” 

“Possiamo parlare dopo?” 

Katsumi stringe i denti e lascia uscire uno sbuffo seccato. “D’accordo. Hai parecchie cose da spiegare.” 

E poi forse le cose andranno come le ha immaginate. 

COW-T #10 - week 6, mission 2  

Prompt: Ko no Yokan 

2906 parole

Deku knows he’s gonna love Kacchan when he’s only four. 

It’s called Ko no Yokan, the sense, the premonition, upon seeing a person for the first time that you are gonna fall in love with them. 

And maybe Izuku is four and he’s so little he doesn’t know what it means to love - to really love - but maybe it doesn’t matter either. 

Because Izuku just knows it. 

Maybe that’s his quirk, he wonders. Maybe he can predict the future, even if it’s for something so trivial as who’s falling in love with whom. Not the best quirk for a hero, but there are different ways to save people, after all. 

Izuku’s four and to him that’s as good as super strength or flying or telekinesis. His quirk is his quirks whatever it is, or so his mother said. 

Of course, that happens before. 

That happens before Kacchan develops his quirk. 

That happens before Izuku doesn’t manifest his and before his mother brings him to a doctor and before said doctor tells him he will never manifest one. 

Izuku cries and cries and cries and his mother hugs him and tells him she’s sorry, so sorry. 

But he doesn’t stop believing in his Ko no Yokan, doesn’t reject what he felt, the extracorporeal sensation of knowing, just knowing without an ounce of doubt. 

* * * 

Deku is seven, or eight, he doesn’t remember exactly - he still hasn’t developed the habit of writing everything down - but he remembers it was summer.

He remembers it was almost lunchtime and the park was empty, all kids already home to eat. The park was empty, except for him and Kacchan. 

By that moment he already knows Kacchan doesn’t want him to call him that nickname anymore, but to Izuku, Kacchan will always be Kacchan. 

“Leave me alone, Deku,” he snarls and his palms blaze alive with fire, the noise of his little explosions filling the silence of the park. 

Izuku recoils and takes a step back, trips on a rock or a root or whatever and falls. 

His Ko no Yokan seems so far away now, almost a dream, almost a figment of his imagination. Izuku is hurt and he feels betrayed and tears wells up in his eyes. 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

But maybe it’s for the better if he realizes it now - he doesn’t have a quirk, it was just a foolish thought he had convinced himself to believe as real…

“Deku, are you hurt?” Kacchan asks, and Izuku is tempted, so tempted, to snarl a ‘no’ back at him, back at Bakugou. 

But there’s some concern in his eyes, and that’s it. He understands. 

Izuku is seven, or eight, and he understands what he felt. He realizes how painfully true his Ko no Yokan was. 

To Kacchan, Izuku will always be Deku. 

The Deku one. 

He shakes his head and Kacchan offers him his hand, sweaty and warm. “Then let’s go home.” 

Izuku takes it and Kacchan hurls him up and doesn’t let go if him as they head home. 

* * * 

Deku is… what now? Eleven? 

He doesn’t want to remember it. 

He had almost hoped his birthday wouldn’t come. 

He knew about his joint, he knew about that damning presence sentencing him to be quirkless, he knew, ok? But still, he had hoped… 

Ten years old is the limit for manifesting a quirk. That’s as far as “late bloomers” go. Ten years. 

No records over that age. 

And now Deku is eleven. 

Maybe there are some unrecorded cases of children developing quirks later. Maybe at the hospital, they registered his birth date wrongly and now he has some more months to hope. 

Maybe he should just give up and make his peace with his quirklessness. 

Kacchan smiles and laughs and shows off, his power increased by age and use, more focused and efficient. 

Izuku - Deku - looks from the margin of the group crowded around him and wonders what would it be like to be the one at the center. 

Izuku is almost starting to believe it. That he’s not enough. 

Kacchan is brilliant, Kacchan in amazing, Kacchan is a shining star and Deku… Deku is just an asteroid floating in the atmosphere without a clue. 

There must be something he can do to be his equal. 

* * * 

Deku is fourteen and Kacchan is yelling and shouting and exploding. 

Nothing is new. Nothing is different. 

Kacchan doesn’t laugh at him, Kacchan never did - not actually believing it, and maybe that’s worse. 

Because Kacchan had laughed at him - at his stupid dream of applying to U.A., at his stupid dream of becoming a hero - not because he really thought he was an idiot, but because he wanted to hurt him. 

And hurt him he did, as he punished him for daring to stand up, to wander from a path Kacchan didn’t even know existed. 

Why are you defying me? Why do you think you can be more than me? His eyes had asked at every word spoken, every crooked smile and cutting smirk. 

I’m not, I just want to be like you, Izuku had wanted to reply. I just want to be worth. 

So Deku is fourteen and Kacchan is yelling and shouting and exploding and nothing is new, nothing is different and it will never be. 

This is what they are. 

* * * 

Deku is fifteen, watching the Kacchan’s back as he walks away hurt and angry and feeling like Izuku has betrayed him and lied to him and Izuku can’t do anything to stop him because he can’t give away All Might’s secret, not even to Kacchan. 

It doesn’t matter that Kacchan doesn’t have any right to be angry at him - he never had, and still, here they have always been. 

It doesn’t matter that after all they went through - the bitter laughs and the tears, the yelling and the covering, the snarls and the pleads - Kacchan should just shoulder this because it doesn’t cover even half of what he did to Izuku, it’s not even payback. 

It doesn’t matter because Izuku just wants to run after him and hug him and spill it, telling him everything - about All Might, about his quirk, about his struggles, about his need to be his equal. 

Izuku can’t, Izuku won’t, and Kacchan just walks away, feeling something he’s not entitled to feel.  

* * * 

Deku shouldn’t. 

It’s probably unwise to choose that as his name. 

Deku. 

The word has a strange taste on his tongue, as he rolls it in his mouth trying to make it his. 

Deku. 

He sees the sparkle in Kacchan’s eyes when he shows his Hero name to the classroom, sees the ever-present anger and the smirk and the challenge. 

Izuku straightens his back and hardens his gaze. 

* * * 

Deku is fifteen and going and his arms are a mess of scars and broken bones and shredded tendons, barely recovered. 

Don’t come, had said - asked, pleaded - Kacchan. 

But he had to, hadn’t he? 

He couldn’t leave him. 

“I told you not to come! Why do you never listen to me?!” Kacchan yells and closes his hands in fists and they will fight, of course, they will - but not now. 

“Wouldn’t you have come for me?” 

Kacchan doesn’t reply, but Izuku doesn’t need him to. 

If there’s just one thing he’s sure about, it’s that. 

* * * 

Deku has six quirks now, even if he doesn’t actually know what most of them are or how to use them. 

Izuku knows Kacchan would feel threatened, but Kacchan doesn’t. 

Kacchan looks at him and brags - loud and aggressively smug - that he’s still the best, because he can already fly with his explosion and Nana Shimura’s Float quirk is still inaccessible to Izuku.
Deku smiles, cutting edges and a knowing glint. “You win. For now.” 

And Kacchan hardens his gaze and smirks back. “Bring it on.” 

* * * 

Deku holds his side, blood spilling in his hand and Kacchan growls. “Hold still.” 

Kacchan swats away his hand and peels off the green costume, soaked in blood, from his skin, cutting it away to see the wound. 

“I don’t need it,” Izuku argues, as the other starts to disinfect it.  

“Yes, you do.” 

“Your arm is in worst shape!” 

It’s not. The red slash on his bicep is just as bad as Izuku’s cut - both bloody but just superficial. 

“I don’t care,” Kacchan pointedly passes the alcohol imbued cotton on his skin and Izuku jumps on the spot. 

“I do.” 

“Then let me tend to this, first.” 

“Will you let me tend to yours after?” 

Kacchan stills and Izuku is ready for the rejection.

Kacchan doesn’t need help. 

Never. 

Least of all from Deku. 

“Fine. Now just hold still.” 

* * * 

Deku kisses him and just expects to be pushed away, thrown across the room with explosions still ringing in his ears. 

Instead, Kacchan melts against his mouth, leans in and grip his back, pressing into his arms. 

“You stupid nerd,” he breathes over his mouth, “you just had to almost die, didn’t you?” 

Izuku can hear his voice stumbling over the words as he tightens his hug. 

“Only almost die.”

“Someday you’re gonna leave me alone,” Kacchan lets out, so quiet in admitting his weakness.  

“Never.” 

“You can’t promise that.”  

“No, I can’t,” Izuku holds him, “But you can promise to save me.”

“I can’t promise that either,” Kacchan hides his face in his hairs. “What if…” 

Izuku chuckles. “Are you telling me you would allow anything or anyone to stop you? You?” 

There’s some challenge in his voice because Kacchan could never resist a challenge. 

“You are the best, Kacchan. Or am I wrong?”
“You are just a shitty nerd.” 

They stay like this, hugging each other, sweaty and bloody from the fight, with clothes torn and dirty and the damn noise of sirens in the distance. 

“Kacchan…”
“What?”

“Someday you are gonna leave me alone.” 

“I’ve already tried,” Kacchan smiles tiredly. “I’ve tried so much to leave you behind and you wouldn’t let me. What makes you think I will ever succeed?” 

Izuku wants to shake his head and laugh and punch him because he’s serious. 

“I’m stuck with you. And you are stuck with me.” Kacchan kisses him. 

Deku says: “I knew it all along.”

“What?” 

“That we would end up like this.” 

“You knew?” 

“Yes, it was like… looking at the horizon and seeing a house and knowing that if you kept walking down the path, you were gonna get there.” 

He doesn’t add it.

“I knew it too.” 

“You did?” 

* * * 

Kacchan is four and the boy in front of him is as well. 

“I’m Izuku,” the boy says and Katsuki doesn’t quite know what to make of his name so it becomes Deku, instead. 

“I’m Katsuki,” he replies, proud of himself for having managed to say it right, and watches as the boy struggles with the syllables. 

“Hi, Kacchan!” 

Katsuki smiles and knows it, with the certainty and naivety of a four years old boy. 

Of course, that happens before. 

That happens before Katsuki develops his quirk. 

That happens before Deku doesn’t manifest his and before his mother brings him to a doctor and before said doctor tells him he will never manifest one. 

Katsuki gets angry and growls because it isn’t fair - he was supposed to have the more amazing quirk but Deku was supposed to have one too, and now they can’t be heroes together. 

Except, Deku wants to be a hero nonetheless, wants to save people while smiling, exactly as All Might, wants to do all the adventures and all the dangers and all the risks and he wants to do them without a quirk. 

So Katsuki gets mean and snarls because, no, where does he wanna go with no quirk and lots of villains ready to kill him? 

As Deku persists in dreaming of retorting the natural state of things, Katsuki grows angry and frustrated. He laughs at him and hurts him, puts him down, because if he’s quirkless that’s where he belongs, in the crowd of perfectly safe civilians. 

If he’s quirkless how is Katsuki supposed to protect him? 

Then Deku develops a quirk - did he lie? why hadn’t he told him? why did it hurt so much? - and Katsuki walks away, tries to put some distance - he shouldn't feel betrayed, he shouldn’t care. 

Izuku doesn’t need protection anymore - doesn’t want protection - even if his quirk is tearing apart his body, leaving broken bones behind every time Deku activates it. 

Deku. 

Because that’s his name, now. 

Deku, his childhood nickname, but also his mockery. 

Katsuki shouldn’t feel that sting in his chest, hearing other people calling him that. If he only could understand what that choice of a name means, what is the message. 

Katsuki would growl but it’s not his place. He growls nonetheless because screw appropriateness. 

Deku doesn’t do what he tells him, he never did and he never will. 

Katsuki knows his friend, and he knows, when that villain’s hand closes over his nape, dragging him through a portal, that his words - his ‘don’t come’ - will go unheard and he curses himself. 

So before they get recollected by the school, when All Might is just coughing up blood and shrinking on a giant screen in front of everyone, Katsuki closes his hands in fists, suppressing the need to explode something.

“I told you not to come! Why do you never listen to me?!” he yells and refuses to cry and yells some more because usually when he feels anger, he doesn’t feel anything else. 

This time it doesn’t work though. 

His chest hurts and All Might is fallen and Izuku could have died too, and it’s all his fault.

“Wouldn’t you have come for me?” Izuku asks. 

Katsuki wants to scream that it’s not the same thing. 

But it is. 

Deku is a hero in training, same as him. 

So when Deku gets six quirks and almost gets killed by wielding them, Katsuki doesn’t mock him or punch him. He just brags that he’s still the best, because he can already fly while Deku can’t, and  when Deku looks back at him and bites back with a “You win. For now.” his heart flutters in his chest. 

He doesn’t like the sensation, but maybe he could get used to it. 

“Bring it on,” Katsuki smirks back. 

And maybe that’s an understatement, because Deku does it: he brings it on and over the top, but Katsuki is always there, at his side or right behind him, waiting to reach for him, or just racing in  front of him, hoping to gain a little more ground before Deku outperforms again.

They reach this dynamic equilibrium and it’s all Katsuki could want - could hope to get. 

Until Deku kisses him and shatters said equilibrium, and throws Katsuki off his balance because he knew where this was going, he knew it all along, he had just assumed when he reached the house at the horizon it would have been empty. 

Deku bites his lips and smiles and Kacchan shakes his head. 

“Are you already at the house?” Izuku asks. 

“Not yet. Are you?”

“Not yet.” 

“Care to walk the remaining path together?” Katsuki asks, his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

Deku takes his hand and Kacchan holds it. 

“Of course.”