Ghost Au - Blog Posts
hi!! Can you write a yandere ghost dazai x human fem reader fic?
A/N: of course!! (✦ ‿ ✦) I've been actually meaning to write a ghost dazai but a yandere? Oohhhhh sounds great! :D, thanks for submitting this lovely request of yours anon(≧▽≦)!
YOUR SILHOUETTE A PALE MIST, BURY ME IN YOUR KISS!
ᯓ ⁺₊ ๋࣭ ⭑♡— YANDERE! GHOST! Dazai X HUMAN FEM! Reader!
𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SUMMARY: Nearby a forest, there was a 1862 Victorian Mansion that still had strong walls and doors that stood strong against winds and storms. But there was something weird about the home, the past owners of the home were either found dead or moved out for good after just a week.
It was rumoured that it was haunted by a vengeful spirit, but no one dared to banish it or call in a priest.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ☠︎︎— HORROR + ANGST + SUGGESTIVE(?) + FLUFF
A/N: FINALLY A NORMAL REQUEST!! anyway, this fanfic may be abit long but apologies since you never really specified your preference for the fic but I'll try!! :D i haven't written yandere in a year so let's see what i can do. （＾ω＾）
𓂃 ࣪˖ ༒︎— WARNINGS : Blood, Death, Suggestive (?) , cursing, SLIGHT(???) GORE
You were currently moving in the old 1862 Victorian Mansion that was rumored to be haunted, obviously it was sold pretty cheap through the online site and the decor of it was absolutely marvelous, which made you not even care if it was haunted or not.. It was so cheap and so beautiful that how could you not buy it?..
The boxes of your things are already in your home and all you have to do is to unpack. You started unpacking and moving things around.
During your little unpacking session, you were gonna walk up the stairs but notice that there was this portrait shape that was covered with a red cloth that wasn't shown in the pictures online, you put the boxes down and decided to remove the cloth. When you slowly slipped the red cloth off the big portrait, there showed a man wearing a white jabot, blue and gold coat and a soft smile. This made you take a step back and look up and down to analyze the painting, the painting of the ridiculously attractive man.. Weird as hell!
You scoff and turn around to continue unpacking your things, but the second you turned around, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You ignored the feeling and continue unpacking.
While you were unpacking, dazai— the phantom of the house that is the original owner of the home was watching you, it was new to him.. A female unmarried tenant? This might be his best bet to scare the living shit of you, since he hasn't gotten a female tenant yet.
⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺
The unpacking was done and you were visibly tired, immediately crashing on the red floral patterned couch that was in the living room. The whole place looked old but aesthetically pleasing. There was a fireplace, a grand piano, a grandfather clock, bookshelf and a coffee table with a wood vase of belledonna. You sigu and cross your legs, tilting your headback, this scene wasn't unnoticed by the ghost of dazai osamu. He was watching you with curious intent, he was sure that he'd have you dead or gone in no time since he never liked anybody living in his home. But since you were.. Really pretty.. Why not toy with you for a bit before placing your life in a casket?
During the first night, you were there on the bed in your new room, scrolling on your phone before looking at the time, it was 9:56 pm..you gotta take a shower before going to bed since you had work tomorrow. You stood up and removed your clothing before grabbing a robe and entering the bathroom, you turn the water on and began showering, as you showered, you still felt a creep run down your spine, as if you were being watched.
In dazai point of view, he was staring at your bare face, he smirked and checked you up and down.. Seeing your hips, thighs, waist.. And... He chuckled silently, seeing you showering without a clue that you were being watched, he quickly left and decided to give you some privacy.
After showering, you slid into a thin night gown before laying down on the canopy bed and scrolling on your phone, but as you laid down it felt strangely cold, the windows were closed so how could this be cold? You wondered before the bedside lights started ti flicker, but you quickly dismissed it as old house quirks— "must be some random Victorian magic or something.." you mutter before you continue scrolling on your phone, dazai continued to observe you in the shadows, sometimes moving places from time to time to look like shadows were moving which you unfortunately did not notice.
He pouted as he noticed that you didn't see the subtle appearances he did before planning of a way to get a reaction out of you.
You put down your phone and decided to sleep, it was now 10:23 and you really needed sleep. You stare at the canopy beds ceiling before slowly closing your eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly, a sight that dazai found warm. He stared at you with a grin as the moonlight through the window shined upon your body.
⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧+
When you woke up, you felt like a hand was playing with you hair.. You immediately sat up straight and looked around, feeling spooked before taking a deep breath and getting out of bed to get ready to go to work then meet up with your boyfriend.
Whem you left, dazai stayed there, thinking about how to scare you even more, so when you left, he rearranged some of the stuff in yours house, small mischievous giggles came out of his mouth while doing so.
A few hours later.. The second you arrive back home and bring in your boyfriend, dazais expression from afar turned im disgust, obviously he didn't like other men in his house, especially when the man was with you when he just got a pretty lady in his humble abode!
your boyfriend wasn't really the most supportive person in the world or nicest.. He was just there, you didn't even know how you and him managed to get together when the whole relationship only felt one sided.
"This place looks.. Err.. Old.. You like this shit?" your boyfriend asked with a unimpressed look.
This left dazai pissed since he wasn't only in his house and taking you away from him but he was also insulting your choice in houses..
You and your boyfriend walked up the stairs to your room for some alone time, he sat there on your bed in a reckless way, he just laid there like he owned the place. He scrolled on his phone as you sit beside him on the right side of the bed and hug his arm, your boyfriend clearly couldn't care less which made dazai grumble silently in the corner of darkness.
You and your boyfriend were.. "cuddling" on your bed as he scrolled on his phone, probably lookin at other women before dazai got fed up and whispered something in his left ear to scare him— "get out, you scum."
Your boyfriends eyes widens a little, looking at you with a pretty annoyed look, "did you just call me something?.." he looked at you, visibly pissed, pushing your arm away from him. "What?? I didn't?" you replied back with an innocent look, dazai watched the scene, not wanting to resort to something else to not scare you away from him, he looks at your innocent face, though he can see you, both of you amd your boyfriend couldn’t see him.
"yeah right." your boyfriend scoffed, moving you away from him before he continue scrolling back on his phone, dazai clearly picked up that your boyfriend did not get the memo.
A few minutes later, your boyfriend stands up, eyes glued to his phone— "im gonna go find the bathroom."
When he found the bathroom, he did his business and started to wash his hands, The bathroom had a bathtub with gold stands, a small chandelier, a mirror, a silver faucet and a white and gold marbled sink, on the sink was some soap and a razors. The lights started suddenly flickering, your boyfriend scoffed in Annoyance. "why the hell did that bitch buy such a shabby old house..?!" he muttered while washing his hands before met with a cold feeling behind him, he ignored the feeling but it was obviously lingering. His eyes were just on his hands as he washed and washed and washed, he kept coating his hands with soap as he continue rubbing violently, the lights started flickering more frantically. "fuck"
A whisper was heard from behind your boyfriends back, "off", your boyfriend gulps as he washed his hands more violently, he couldn't move. He couldn't look up. He didn't wanna look at the mirror infront of him to see what was behind. "scum."
Your boyfriends eyes widens as he started to shake, he felt a hand wrap around his throat tightly, he looked up and saw nothing behind him but he felt something wrapped around his neck that was choking him. He coughed and coughed but when he looked down back to the running water and his hands, his hands were bleeding. Most of his hands skin was torn off, he looked at what he was holding and it was the blades. He hasn't been washing his hands the whole time.. He was getting cut.
He immediately sprinted out the bathroom, leaving the water and light on. You heard the opening of door bang againts the wall, you stood up from your bed and looked outside your room, by the time you went ouside your room, you saw your boyfriend sprint out of your house. "Hey! Wait! Where are you going!!" you yelled with a concerned tone, but when you yelled it, he was already gone. Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, your shoulders slumped, not understanding why he just left all of the sudden.
Dazai on the other hand was overjoyed. He even turned the sink and lights off for you to not waste water and electricity. Ah.. Only if you knew what he did.. He just saved you from your little toxic relationship, he really wanted to hear your voice praise him.
The day after that, you tried texting your boyfriend to only be met with blocked profiles and one messags, "we're done."
⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺
The haunting within your home escalates, multiple of your things was dissappearing or either misplaced somewhere.. There were nights where you'd be on your phone scrolling while comfortably laid down on your bed where you could hear whispers. It was either your name or threats— "Get out." - "[Your name], [Your name]"
It was a smooth deep voice that whispered subtly in your ear that gave you chills running down your spine, this honestly frightened you but you already paid full and moved all your stuff in so there was no way a little ghost or hallucination was gonna make you move out! Especially since this might've been the reasom why your son of a bitch boyfriend broke up with you, so.. why not keep the house?
The more you didn't budge through dazais antics, the more you pique dazais interest and attraction. You laid there on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you felt the vacant part of your bed get cold. You sigh— "does it always get cold whenever im not around?.." you mutter, still quite sad from the newly break up text before going back on your phone, suddenly one of your coats that was hung on the coat hanger on the side of room fell, you sigh in Annoyance and stood up, putting it back before you were met with a hand caressing your waist, "eek!" you squeeled before turning around to be met with.. Nothing.
You immediately ran back to your bed, hiding under the covers and forcing yourself to sleep, you stayed under the blankets, eye open and thinking about the situation. You're very sure now that it wasn't hallucinations and there really was something in your home, but the hand.. It felt human. It was cold but soft and gentle, not like the hands of your ex boyfriend.. You thought about more of the relationship between you and your boyfriend and realize that he never actually exchanged touches with you.. You were the one always handing it out but he never gave it back, this made your stomach hurl and you slowly slipped the blanket off of your upper body for air.. You stared at the canopy beds ceiling and tears left your eyes, "that bastard.." you mutter as you cried, you suddenly covered your face with your hands and groaned, turning to your side and cried in anger and sorrows.
The same gentle hands were on your waist, the hands that caressed you with deep devotion that you've never experienced before.. This is what you craved for.. You turn around and see nothing, you look around and you sit up, the room was dimly lit by the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the old furniture. You wipe your tears before hearing a deep suave voice— "Don't cry now, bella.. Don't let tears stain your pretty face."
You feel your breath bunch up in your throat, "who are you?.." you mutter, trying to hide your fear.
"mm.. Nobody." dazai replies back, his voice was everywhere.. You couldn't tell where it was coming from.. If it was from left, right, front or from behind, the non visible hand on your waist slowly went down, giving a small squeeze to your hips before you woke up.
The sun was raised high as you looked at your window, you sit up and rub your eyes.. Was it all just a dream? Why did it felt so real? And why did you crave more of those little touches?..
The little touches that dazai gave you was subtle but full of devotion, he didn't even know that he would become so intrigued by you this quickly that he wanted to watch your every single move. He looked at you staring at nothing, perhaps you were in deep thought in his eyes..
He loved the way your lips would turn into a smile, he loved how your brows would furrow, he loved the way you breathed, the way you talked, the way you move, it was all fascinating to him.. He has been alone and lonely in the Victorian Mansion without any suitors..and you were visibly his type.
You started off you day with breakfast then taking a shower, you take off your clothes and looked at the mirror before hanging your towel, just when you were gonna turn around, you see a figure with brunette hair with their elbow on the sink edge and resting their face against their palm in a flash, you look back but nothing was there. You shrugged it off and continue to take a shower.
After showering and getting ready, you researched about the mansion and learned that there was an earl who used to own it but unfortunately died due to a murder, his name was dazai osamu, he was known to be popular amongst the ladies back in the 1860's before he died in 1872. You checked the pictures of him and it was exactly like the portrait by the stairs..
⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺
Every single night became intimate, you always saw him in your dreams and you always felt like you were getting watched.. Which turned invasive, dazai just wanted every part of you.
Night after night, he always gave you touch without showing hisself, but you already knew what he looked like through the painting.. But what made you feel guilty was that you couldn't touch him back, though his touches were random at night, it still gave you chills.
You lay calmly on your bed, you stare at the canopy beds ceiling as the nonvisible hand moves the hair out of your face, this was weird.. And you knew you needed to end it some way somehow.
Dazais feelings of making you stray away or die were now completely gone, he just wanted you by his side. He wanted you to be his.
You move to your side and look up, only to be met with a young man with brunette hair, brown eyes and a gentle smile. Your eyes widens and you look at him, was this really him?.. He grins and he caresses your cheek, "Do you enjoy my company, bella?" he asked in a soft suave tone, your eyes quickly relaxes as you slightly blush— "i guess so."
RING! RING! RING! Aw.. It was your stupid alarm, you open your eyes and look to the side to be met with nothing.. This was the first time you genuinely saw his face up close in real life.. You sigh and get ready for your day to go back to work.
You get ready and go down the stairs, trying to find your keys.
Dazai on the other hand, was holding your keys, he didn't want you Going anywhere. You looked and looked and looked.. But to no avail, nothing. Your workplace was pretty far and since you were near the woods, little to no cabs were around so you decided to call in sick. You began undressing, removing your work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable...
Dazais plans were to stop you from leaving the house in every single possible way. Night falls dark and the moon had risen up, leaving a pale glow outside, you were currently trying to think of what houses would be possible to stay in to finally escape the ghost who played games with you but as you were thinking on your bed, you went on your laptop and you scrolled on homes that were available, while you were scrolling, the laptop immediately closed as a hand wrapped around your waist, feeling a cold aura behind you. "what were you looking at bella?" he rests his chin on your shoulder, you sat there frozen before turning to him and being met with his pretty face.. His pale skin and brunette hair was a criminal combination, his face was so close to yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.
"..." you couldn't muster up a sentence.. "You aren't thinking about leaving me.. Are you [Your name]?.." he looked at you with pretty eyes.
"i.. Was just looking at houses." you replied back with a half life half truth statement. Dazai clinged onto you, it felt oddly comforting.. "You know im just here to protect you, Right? I'll treat you waaay better than that little ex of yours, my dear." he whispered in your ear in a possesive tone, blush crept up to your cheeks as he held you tightly, you looked at him and his gaze fell onto your lips, he examined your pretty face, though he was dead, he felt oddly giddy because he gets to hold you while your pretty face was close to his.
"You'll stay with me, got it? You're mine and no one else's."
⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺
Dazais desire to be with you turned insanely strong, so strong that be believed in something obsessive, every day he'd find ways to try and painlessly take your life without even realizing it, you already knew. You walked around the halls in your home knowing that at any second, the ghost who haunted you could come and just swoop you, you were confused why he wanted to kill you? You thought he loved you.. So why did he want to kill you?
You decided to confront him about it. As soon as it hit nightfall, you laid down on your bed and waited for his presence to immerge since his energy was stronger during night, as you feel his soft cold hands touch you waist, you grab his hand and turn to him, "What the hell have you been trying to do..!?" you ask in an angered confused tone.
He looks at you with slightly wide eyes before reverting back to normal, "oh whatever do you mean bella?" he tried to play it off.
"Why have you been trying to kill me!?"
"... I love you okay? I'm doing all of this for you." he said sternly, holding your hand softly and kissing peppering it with kisses.
Eventually the two of you broke out into a fight, though he tried to explain hisself, he really didn't wanna fight you. He just wanted you to understand that all he has done was for you. And he wanted for you to understand.
He gripping onto your waist, burying his face on the nape of your neck, his expression soft but disappointed..
"you really dont understand, don't you? I love you. And i'll do anything just to have you as mine."
His tone was low but it gave a hint of obsession.
"Please. Just dont go.. I- i can't keep being alone in this place. You're all i have." he muttered, his voice slightly whiny but full of sorrows as he held you tighter.
You felt awful, he loved you like no other and treated you better than anyone of your exes, though he was dead, he would love to kiss your lips again and again.
He held onto you tightly as you kept quiet, sighing before replying back— "If you keep this up, I'll move out. I'm serious."
Dazais eyes widens and the words that left your lips broke him since his body was buried under his house, his soul couldn't leave the mansion whatsoever, "Please! I can't lose you. Not now, not ever! Please! Give me a chance!" he gripped onto your clothing, "i love you more than my own existence, you're the only thing keeping me feel alive again and sane in this place, this place feels like an asylum! Don't.. Go." his voice cracked as he pleaded for you, tears was already beaded on his tear ducts, he didn't want you to go, he felt lost like some puppy, he just wanted you to stay with him, eternally.
He was so obsessed that he wanted to bind your soul with his so you could be his, together and forever in the afterlife.
A/N: originally, i was planning to make dazai kill reader but today i wanted to leave a cliffhanger. Thank you for reading and i really enjoyed this request!! :D I'll try to get into more yandere themes so i could do better in the future, thanks again anon for this lovely request of yours （＾ω＾）
© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.
Putting my drv3 ghost au here: victims
MIGHT be a bit ooc cause this is mostly self indulgent
(SPOOOOIIIILER WLERT FOR DRV3!!!!)
Putting my drv3 ghost au here: victims
MIGHT be a bit ooc cause this is mostly self indulgent
(SPOOOOIIIILER WLERT FOR DRV3!!!!)
Echoes Of The Rain
Synopsis: Bakugou Katsuki grieves the loss of his best friend (rival? lover?) beneath rain-filled skies. He catches a glimpse of Midoriya Izuku's ghost, a shadow of what he once was. He is forced to confront the pain of holding on—and the inevitability of letting go.
Preview: "With every otherworldly meeting between the two, the details he had once held so dearly—Izuku’s laugh, the way his hair felt under his fingertips, the warmth of his touch—were slipping from his grasp. He could no longer count the freckles on the boy's face—a number he once knew by heart. The rain was washing it all away."
Words: 2.1k
Tags: bkdk, major character death, grief/mourning, healing, hurt/comfort, ghosts, regretful bakugou katsuki, unresolved emotional tension, bittersweet ending
Notes: my first work lol been thinking about getting this off my mind for soo long please free me of my shackles.. also cross-posted on ao3!!
Raindrops kiss the grass. Echoes linger in the storm. Dreams fade, soaked in gray.
Bakugou Katsuki was no stranger to solitude. He didn’t mind being alone—preferred it, most days. Yet, every so often, his feet found their way back to the river.
The rain hit hard, relentless. It soaked through his clothes, ran in cold rivulets down his spine. He barely noticed. He just stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight. It had been weeks. Weeks since Izuku had—since he was gone. And still, the stupid nerd wouldn’t leave him alone.
Katsuki had always hated the rain. It made him feel weak and pitiful—just as he feels now. He stared solemnly at the riverbank; the pitter-patter of the rain masking his cascading tears.
He missed the nerd. Every damn thing about him. From his incessant muttering to the foolish look in his eyes whenever he called him "Kacchan". His mind wandered back to their second fight in Ground Beta. Back then, Katsuki couldn't believe he was having a panic attack in front of him. In hindsight, the vulnerability had been a strange relief. It felt cathartic to pummel him into the ground, a twisted form of therapy. He'd never say this to Izuku's face, but he was thankful he stuck by him through every moment of prideful stupidity.
He would have taken a lifetime of coming second to Izuku over this. Katsuki kneels into the muddy earth, eyes glossing over. The rage inside does little to quiet the voices overtaking his conscience. Every wave of anger begrudgingly surges within, moving in rhythm with the water's ebb. How does one simply get over the loss of their soulmate? He knows he shouldn't be feeling like this, that Izuku didn't mean to leave him, that he died the noblest death a hero ever could.
He saw him in the back of his mind—a constant presence, a painful reminder of the beacon of light he is now devoid of. Katsuki slams his fists into the ground wrathfully, bitterly aware of how pathetic he looks. It felt pointless to keep pushing forward, to keep throwing himself into the fray without an equally persistent rival—his rival. Who would chase after him? Or rather, who would he chase after? He wishes, more than anything, for Izuku to show up. For a passing instance, Katsuki wonders if Izuku remembered the last time they were both here, together.
The cacophony surrounding him made his heart ache. How could the clouds continue to weep? How could the stream continue to ripple? How could his own heart continue to beat—when Izuku was gone? It pounded in his chest, forming an unsteady rhythm, making a mockery of the silence his twin flame had left behind.
Katsuki tilts his neck upward, hair drenched and clinging to his forehead. His usual fierce glare is absent, replaced by a vacant, almost lost expression. The rain poured unceasingly, cold and heavy, but it didn’t wash away the tension in his jaw or the way his shoulders slumped, as though the weight of the world was too much to carry. His crimson eyes, usually sharp and cutting, are dulled by grief, clouded with a deep, aching sadness.
He exhaled sharply and tipped his head back. His hair stuck to his forehead, his vision blurred with rain. He should go. He should stop standing here like an idiot and move. But his legs wouldn’t work.
And then—
A flicker.
His breath caught, sharp and sudden. His heart slammed against his ribs. It was just the mist, the rain playing tricks on him. That’s all it was.
An eerie stillness settles in. Izuku's outline glisters before him—indistinct, translucent. Like embers of a fire, barely hanging on. It's just a hallucination, he tells himself. And yet, his own hands betray him, mindlessly reaching out. His chest tightens, a flood of unspoken words caught in his throat. Despite all the time spent contemplating what he'd do if he got one last moment with Izuku, Katsuki subdues. All the overwhelming rage that filled him before diminishes, replaced by an unwelcome emptiness.
The air is thick, heavy enough to cut with a knife. Neither speaks; no words of comfort or regret passed between them. Izuku's expression is light and carefree, his lips curling into a soft smile that seemed at odds with the grief that weighed down Katsuki's heart. His expression softened, mouth opening and closing, an embarrassing lack of words coming out. Izuku stood there, hazy with a delicate aura outlining his figure—untouched by the rain.
To Katsuki, Izuku was everything. His beautifully radiant eyes seemed to glimmer, outshining any star in the sky—green as twin pools of emerald. Katsuki had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to smooth his dark tousled curls, as if he could make everything right by simply touching him.
Izuku’s silhouette stood out starkly against the dim, wet background. It served Katsuki as a reminder that he was no longer looking up into the face of his companion; but a fleeting memory that he no longer had the right to hold on to. He had always thought of Izuku as some kind of hero, but more than that, he saw him as something more—a myth, a God of serenity and grace, too untouchable, too beautiful, for him to grasp.
His hands fall back to his sides, trembling with quiet desperation. Damn it. Katsuki clenches his fists tighter, swallowing back a surge of frustration. What the hell is wrong with me? He didn't want to look so weak in front of Izuku—was this even him?—his breath hitching unevenly. But oh, of course he'd notice. Ever the kind soul, he lowers himself to Katsuki's level, his comforting presence glinting just in front of him. Katsuki can't help himself—his heart pounds as Izuku’s arms reach out, wiping away tears he didn’t even realise had fallen. The touch feels real—cold, yet strangely comforting against his skin. And for an ephemeral moment, it almost feels like everything would be okay again.
Katsuki’s breath shudders as he feels the phantom touch seep into his bones, like ice-cold water flooding an open wound. Izuku's fingers move towards him—hesitant, gentle—thumbs brushing over the other's cheeks. He handles him with the utmost care, as though he might shatter like glass at any moment. Izuku’s touch was paradoxical—both a lifeline and a cruel reminder of how far beyond his reach he truly was. His gaze remained unswerving, tracing the delicate lines of his face. Katsuki had never felt so vulnerable, so powerless.
His tears mingled with the tempest’s fury, as if the storm itself were mourning beside him. Katsuki’s breath hitched, a sharp tremor running through him, as if the weight of his grief took on a tangible form, like an anchor, dragging him into the ocean’s depths. He calls out to him, voice cracking, as though it might break entirely. The other's expression takes on something akin to sorrow, a look that Katsuki thought didn't belong on his face. Reluctantly, he welcomed the touch. He could feel every careful movement as if Izuku was trying to hold him together, piece by fragile piece. He wanted to pull away—he always did when someone tried to comfort him—but his touch just felt so right.
Izuku couldn’t help but run his fingers across Katsuki’s jaw. His muscles rippled as though they were carved from marble, moving with a swift grace that betrayed the vulnerability in his expression. He would never know it, but Izuku thought his beauty divine, unearthly—hidden behind a mask of anger and conceit. Like a force of nature, his presence commanded the skies above. There’s an undeniable pull between the two, as if the universe had woven their fates together, only for one to be ripped away too soon. It’s a thread stretched too thin, threatened by the magnitude of loss.
Katsuki closes his eyes for just a moment, letting Izuku's touch wash over all the doubts in his mind. His pulse steadies, his breath no longer shaky. His demeanour eases, as if something inside him is finally, slowly, beginning to break free. Yet, even in this fleeting moment of relief, he knows—Izuku couldn’t stay. He never had been able to.
Katsuki allows himself to bask in the other's consoling touches, confessions and apologies spilling from his lips without thought. He doesn't know how long he's standing here, being comforted by the boy he was missing mourning. The steady patter of rain gives way to silence, and as the last drop falls, the stillness between them feels like a new beginning—a pause in the storm that has raged inside Katsuki since he lost him. As the sky clears, and the days pass, he finds himself looking for Izuku's shadow wherever he goes, longing for his solace whenever it pours.
Izuku’s ghost hasn’t been around for days now, and a nagging thought lingers at the back of his mind. He swallows hard, trying to push it down, but it won’t go away.
Has he forgotten something?
It’s a thought he can’t shake, and his gaze darts around, as if half-expecting Izuku to be standing just behind him, waiting for him to admit it out loud. He grits his teeth, biting back the urge to call out, to hope for a hint of the familiar warmth that used to be there. He won’t give in to this. But his eyes linger on the space in front of him, almost begging Izuku to confirm that he’s not truly gone. The hesitation is brief, but it cuts through him like a blade—just a flicker of weakness that he immediately tries to ignore. Moving forward feels like betrayal, like leaving Izuku behind for good, but is it really betrayal if it’s all he can do?
Fuck. His throat tightened. He clenches his fists, furious with himself for even thinking it. For needing confirmation.
But there’s no answer, no ghost to speak back to him. Just the rain. Just the silence.
As much as he wanted to hold on, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Izuku's ghost was fading away. With every otherworldly meeting between the two, the details he had once held so dearly—Izuku’s laugh, the way his hair felt under his fingertips, the warmth of his touch—were slipping from his grasp. He could no longer count the freckles on the boy's face—a number he once knew by heart. The rain was washing it all away.
Katsuki had tried to trace the scars on Izuku’s arms, but his ghostly figure had started to dissolve as the seasons passed. The lines he had once followed like a map blurred into obscurity. The once-vivid greens of his eyes, bright and unyielding, were now dim smudges in Katsuki’s mind. Each encounter left him with less, and each time, Izuku seemed more like an echo than the boy he had fought alongside—the boy he had loved. Katsuki fought to keep every memory intact, clutching at fragments with the desperation of a drowning man. But grief was a relentless tide, pulling pieces of Izuku further into its depths. He feared the day when he would wake up and find nothing left to remember.
Katsuki stares out into the downpour, expecting the familiar flicker of green eyes to appear, but all he sees is the blur of the storm. He frowns, his heart stuttering for a moment before it settles into something else—something quieter.
The space beside him remains empty, and for the first time in so long, it doesn’t feel like a void. The ache is still there, but it’s different. It’s less like a wound and more like a scar that’s begun to heal, its edges softened by time. He realises, slightly unsure, that he hasn’t seen Izuku’s ghost in weeks, maybe longer. And it’s okay. The thought doesn’t fill him with guilt; it doesn’t feel like betrayal. It’s just... the way things are now. He’s allowed to move forward, even if the past will always linger in the background.
Grief wasn’t something to be defeated; it was a river, something that would ebb and flow, forever changing, but never truly halt. He stopped searching the storm for a figure that would never return, realising that the sun would rise again, even if it took time to burn through the clouds. In the space between the rain, he found a new kind of peace—one that was less about forgetting, and more about learning how to stand in the quiet aftermath.
The rain had stopped, and with it went the faint illusion that Izuku was still near.
TW: BLOOD
I'VE RETURNED WITH MY GHOST AU
in this universe, the reader is a ghost living in a Pizza Plex. Not everyone and not always can see the ghost, but it's always there. Somewhere behind you. Floating in the abyss of time with no purpose and no memories.
lmao poor sun
AGGHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR CHAPTER 3 CUZ OF ANGIE
ghost au part 4
spoiler alert to drv3 chaoter 1!!!
only four parts and yet it feels like ive been doing this for TEN YEARS!!!!! I am NOT built for this
tried to color a bit. I LOVE EXPERIMENTATION .
lots of characters appear here also I LOVE THE LIVING CAST
YIPPEEEEE GHOST AU 😍😍😍😍
since next part is taking FFORREEEVER im posting old concept snippets of conversations of kokichi and friends that like might suck cause i didnt do much research on their chars at the time except kokichi
(Mius is unfinished and lowkey hard to read but IIIDONT CAAAARE)
(SPOIIILERS SPOIKER ALERT!!!!!!!)
a bbc ghosts community au is all I’ve been able to think about recently
Would anyone be interested if I made a ghost tododeku AU comic?
I was browsing the 'imagine your OTP' tag and got an idea. It would concentrate on tododeku but I would try to make the story as complete as possible including the most characters, the villains, the teachers ect... pls give me your feedback. I'll put the first chapter in link as soon as it's made :)
This is soo good! Even if you are not fan or know what MHA/BNHA is, this fic is really good and worth the time to read!
i will follow you into the dark
pairing: pro-hero bakugou x fem!reader
wc: 7.3k
chapter 1/3
warnings: major character death, angst, hurt/comfort type shit, violence/violent death, smut is here as well <3 so MINORS DNI
a/n: hi hi! this is going to be my second ever series that i've written and posted! i'm really excited, it got this idea while watching Ghost with my family and I instantly pictured Katsuki with that similar plot line. thank you to my beta reader pala (@erenscockslut), to @izuukii (which i bet you'll change your url in like a week and will be unreachable from here lmao) yelling and screaming at me about this fic and who lowkey knows the ending, and my moots who encouraged me and listened to me ramble on about this story. this will be the first in three parts for this series... good luck readers
-(-)-
Katsuki Bakugou hates waking up cold. He sleeps under a shit ton of blankets in the winter to prevent that very thing, and in the summer he sleeps with a fan instead of turning on the A/C. He hates being cold, he hates shivering, he hates that the cold restricts his sweat pores and makes it harder for him to use his quirk. On your first date, you asked him what temperature he keeps his thermostat at and you looked appalled by his answer.
“Well, I guess I won’t be staying the night then.” You smiled coyly and began to eat again, making his stomach twist at your implications.
“I don’t remember offering,” Katsuki scowls and then remembers you’re not supposed to do that on first dates. Fuck he hates this. He shouldn’t have listened to Denki, this is stupid. To his surprise, you laugh. You said something else afterwards, probably something only a smart ass would say, he can’t remember. But he remembers how hearing you laugh made his muscles relax and the nerves in his belly twist even more.
He’s only thinking about now, this two years later, because he woke up cold this early morning.
To anyone else this might not be weird, considering that it’s currently the dead of winter in Japan and he doesn’t hear the usual hum of the heater on. You’re in his arms though, both of you clad in hoodies and sweats under a horde of blankets, but despite that there’s a weird chill going down his spine, a feeling he usually gets when he’s at patrolling or on a mission and there’s something wrong about to happen. It’s a small noise, but it’s there: a shifting of one’s weight against the old floorboards.
Reasonably, Bakugou knows there isn’t anybody inside. All the windows are locked, the front door is locked, there’s no one aside from you and him (…and the stray cat you took a few months ago). Katsuki carefully untangles himself from you and covers you back with the fleece blanket before he quietly pads through your shared apartment to find whatever it is giving him that weird chill, or better yet find the noise. Each room is empty, as he expects but for some reason that doesn’t appease him. Bakugou sighs, massaging his neck while he tries to figure out what this gnawing anxiety in his belly means when he turns around and nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Fuck! You- fuck you!” His hand lands on his chest hoping to calm his pounding heart. Katsuki takes in a deep breath and scowls, “What the fuck are you doing? I could’ve blasted you!”
You raise an eyebrow, “What am I doing? What are you doing? You’re creeping around like a weirdo! How is it that you’re the up-and-coming number five hero and I can sneak up on you?” You walk towards him and flick his nose.
“Shut up.” He crinkles his nose and pulls you in, pressing a kiss against your hair. “It’s nothing. I thought I heard something.”
“Mhm,” you hum noncommittally. “We have a cat, she was probably fucking around somewhere.”
“Talon is sleeping on the couch she wasn’t fucking around,” Katsuki murmurs before he looks around over the crown of your head. “She’s not even fat enough to make the floors creak.”
“It’s an old apartment! Things creak, windows shake, sometimes candles blow out and you hear someone whispering your name.” You laugh when he narrows his eyes, “Come back to bed. It’s cold without you.”
You emphasize this by twisting your foot up and pushing under the hem of his sweatpants,
pressing your cold toes against his skin. With a hiss, he jerks away and rolls his eyes at your giggling, still following you down the hallway back to bed and scolding you for not wearing socks.
He forgets about the weird chill until it happens again the next morning. And again. And again.
“We are not keeping the apartment at 80 degrees, Bakugou!” Your attempts to push him away from the thermostat is futile, and his smirk only pisses you off more.
“Oh it’s Bakugou now? Last night it was, ‘Katsuki! Katsuki! Katsuki!’” He cackles through his poor imitation of your moans and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’s fucking cold and you’re getting sick, now move.” Easily,Katsuki reminds you of the strength he has as a pro-hero as picks you up and forcibly sets you aside.
“‘M not sick,” you pout and slink your cold hands underneath his hoodie.
Katsuki hisses and shivers from the feeling of your hands pressing into his warm belly, “Uh-huh. Guess that means you don’t want my sick day soup then, idiot.”
“Well I never said no to that.”
-(-)-
The ring burns in his pocket.
Originally he hid it deep inside the closet inside a coat that you never use, until the heater broke this morning. His hands sweat as he heard you digging around trying to find a warmer jacket while you both waited for the handyman to fix the goddamn thing. He’s thanking everything in the universe that you gave up so quickly and made him look for it.
So now it’s in his pocket of the ridiculously large down coat with the zipper zipped up to just above his nose.
“You panicked??” Izuku’s voice is tinny through the receiver.
“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou snaps at his phone. “I didn’t panic. I needed to move the ring and so I did. End of story.”
“Are you gonna propose soon then? How long are you gonna keep hiding it in your pocket, Kacchan?”
“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Katsuki rolls his eyes and glances at the apartment building where you are still trying to get ready. He pauses before adding, “…Tonight.”
With a wince, he pulls his phone away from his ear at the sound of Midoriya’s early congratulations. “Shut the fuck up, shitty nerd. They haven’t said yes, yet.”
“Yet,” Izuku gleefully laughs. “Tell your fiancé I say hi tonight then.”
Katsuki’s cheeks flush and it’s then that he sees you walking out the lobby, “Fuck off. Congrats yourself for number four. Next time I’ll be in the top ranks though, shitty nerd.”
“We’ll see about that, Kacchan! See ya la-!” Bakugo hangs up before Izuku can finish.
“Took you long enough,” His words don’t bite as he reaches out to grab your mitten-clad hands with his.
“I think it’s colder in our apartment than it is out here,” your voice is nasally now that your small cold has set in. “Who were you talking to?”
“Ah stupid fucking Deku. He’s trying to get me to rejoin Endeavor’s agency again.” He walks you towards the car, already running with the heat blasting so you don’t have to sit on frozen leather seats.
“Why don’t you?” You warm your hands against the vents, hoping that they warm up faster.
“Ah, I don’t know. I reached five with my job now,” Katsuki shakes his head and starts to gnaw on the inside of his cheek. He’s thought about it over a thousand times, but to be honest he’s leaning towards Shitty Hair’s offer. It’s just like something is holding him back, and he’s hesitant to admit that it might be fear of the unknown.
“The repair guy called and said he’ll have it fixed by tonight. We might as well stay outta his way.” Bakugou knows he’s not being subtle about changing the topic.
“Did he say what blew it out?”
Katsuki doesn’t answer and pointedly looks straight ahead as he drives.
“Katsuki,” you turn to face him better and your eyes narrow when you see him biting his lip. “Katsuki.”
“The heat was set too high for too long…” He mumbles, hoping you’d drop the topic and move on.
“Katsuki!” You smack his arm and he scowls, tutting his tongue at you.
“It’s freezing, and you got fucking sick because of it. How is it my fault our shitty heater couldn’t do its job??” Katsuki furrows his brows and glances over at you, watching you hold back from sniffling for the nth time.
“It’s your fault for trying to fix it and melting the fuse box,” you huff and sit back in your seat with crossed arms, discreetly wiping your nose when he looks away.
Katsuki looks at you again, not helping the upwards tug in his lips when he watches you pout. The ring burns in his pocket and he imagines you wearing it, showing it off to friends and family, you carrying his last name. Fuck it he’d take your last name if that’s what you wanted. He wonders what kind of wedding you both would have, if it’ll be small and private. Unfortunately with his ranking and you already in the public eye as his partner, his managers are going to expect a big ass party with all the most esteemed and honorable heroes. Lots of reporters. None of the food will be picked out by you. No. Fuck that. It’ll be whatever you want. He’ll fight heaven and hell for you and everyone knows it. What you want, you’ll get.
“Marry me,” he murmurs under his breath. The light turns red.
“What was that?” Your voice is congested and you don’t look up from your phone, still mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed.
“Marry me,” Katsuki repeats louder and more confidently. He watches as his words wash over you, until you finally snap your pretty little head up at him with eyes wide.
“What?” You blubber, locking your phone in the process. “Kat-Katsuki the light is green.” Your eyes nervously track over to the traffic light as it tells traffic to go, waiting for Bakugou to drive yet he doesn’t.
“I don’t care,” he smirks and takes out the velvet box from his pocket. He snaps it open with his fingers, ignoring the car horns blaring behind you both.
The gem matches your eyes, he thinks. Especially how they look in the sun. The same eyes that’re watering as you struggle to process this. Angry cars pass by you both with the drivers’ hands on their horn, and the ones who don’t pass make their annoyance heard as the light turns red again.
“Marry me,” He gives you that smile again. The one that’s only for you, the one that is soft and shows off the dimple on his left cheek, the one you see when you wake up and when you fall asleep.
“Okay,” you laugh and hold out your hand as he slips it on your finger. “Okay! Fuck!” You laugh and cry, not knowing if your nose is running because of your stupid cold or because you’re crying but you really don’t care. He kisses you sweetly, grateful for the few seconds you both have before the light turns green again.
He wasn’t planning on proposing to you in the middle of Musutafu’s streets, and he was also hoping you both would have a clean bill of health at the very least. But your hand is in his and he can feel your ring, he can feel your fingers squeezing his, cold as ice still. You keep this piece of news within the car, for at least a little longer before you both decide to tell close friends and family the news. You want this sliver of news between you both before the gossip catches on and reporters swarm you two with questions and photos of the happy couple. You want him, just him. And him, you.
Thankfully the heat is fixed and you both can keep this bubble going just a little longer. The apartment is warm again, even Talon is enjoying the heat by sitting her butt right on the air vent. The repairman is long gone, his invoice set on the counter that Katsuki is pressing you against. He deepens the kiss while stripping you of the many layers you wore to combat the cold. Katsuki swallows your soft noises and tries to shake off his own jacket before pressing into you again, his hips flushed against yours and you can feel the heat of his groin.
“You’re gonna get sick,” your words are muffled against his lips as you feebly move away from him.
“So I get a sick day,” Katsuki shrugs, leaning in again and keeping you in place with his warm hands on your cold cheeks.
Both of your jackets and hats and scarves pool around your ankles. You softly laugh when he pushes you onto the counter, settling in between your plush thighs as he starts to kiss up your jaw. His scent fills your senses as he works his way down your neck, floral and minty from the aftershave he used this morning. Everything about him makes you feel warm and your thoughts fuzzy. His lips and wandering hands grabbing at the fat of your hips and thighs, his tightening pants only growing tighter as you both desperately rut into the other.
“Bedroom,” he mutters more as a warning than a statement before picking you up. His words roll over your skin, prickling with excitement as you hear his deep voice cracking with lust.
Your sheets are still cold when you land on the bed, yet you barely can shiver before Bakugou starts to hold you close to him again. Declarations of “I love you’s” and what you’re going to do to each other linger in the air, until you’re gasping at the stretch of his fingers.
He nips at the curve of your neck and shoulders, laughing as you try to kick off your leggings so you can properly spread your legs for him.
“Katsuki,” you moan. “I need you. Please.”
“Just a bit more, baby. Gotta make sure I can fit inside your sweet pussy.”He curls and pumps his fingers inside your gummy walls, wondering why he didn’t just warm his hands this way hours earlier and jealous that his cock isn’t feeling the way you’re squeezing his thick fingers. Just a bit more, he thinks. When he finally does squeeze through, his pressed flush against yours and your hands fisting in his hair, he knows what it is making his belly warm inside.
It’s love that makes him quiver when he thrusts inside you, love that peppers across your skin as he kisses all your freckles, and it’s love that is shown in his eyes when he looks down at you. He moans your name in love, he makes you cum over and over out of love, and he holds you close in love.
With your ear pressed against his chest in the darkness of your shared room, you hear his heartbeat and know it’s yours. His fingers gently pop your knuckles and massage the tension in your hands as you both catch your breaths. The ring catches in the moonlight, winking at you both.
“Where did you hide this?” You whisper, your words muffling against his tacky skin.
“Don’t worry about it,” he scoffs. “There ain’t another one for you.”
“So romantic,” you laugh and nestle closer against his side. Bakugou only hums, not even realizing there’s a soft and dopey smile on his face still.
“I’m just saying that if you hid this then what else are you hiding- stop laughing!” He doesn’t take you seriously when you’re laughing at yourself, only rolling his eyes again at your attempt at mind games.
“Oh whatever you brat-” Katsuki’s laughter is cut short when he snaps his head towards the direction of the hallway. “Did you hear that?”
“Don’t change the subject,” you giggle and kiss up his jawline.
“Mm-mm, I’m serious.” Bakugou starts to untangle himself from you, grabbing his sweats and slipping them on over his bare half. “Stay here.”
“It’s Talon, stay in bed with me!” You take hold of his wrist despite both of you knowing he can pull away, and give him your best pout.
“Talon is on the bed, she’s been there the entire time. I couldn’t kick her off,” He keeps his eyes fixated on the closed door, waiting to hear the strange noise again.
“She’s been here the entire time?” You scoff and sit up, watching your orange tabby blink slowly at you.
Another floorboard groans and he makes his mind up. “Stay here.” His hand reaches back and grazes your fingers as he starts to slip on his sweats.
“Katsuki-” But he’s already quietly stepping out of your bedroom into the dark hallway.
There’s a certain mindset a pro-hero goes into when they’re working. Patrolling, missions, rescuing, combat. There’s a zone that they learn to hone while they’re children up until they’re licensed adult heroes. All their senses are heightened and honed to detect even the smallest of abnormalities. To not do so can be a matter of life or death. Bakugou thinks back to high school psychology when they had a lecture on the concept of “thin slicing”. Your brain recognizes patterns in your life, collects them, and memorizes them, and then compares them to other experiences you’ve had before. This all happens in a fraction of second, so fast that as human beings you aren’t even aware it’s happening until you feel it. The gut feeling everyone talks about.
“Listen to your gut feeling,” Aizawa had told them. “Better to be wrong and alive, than being right and dead.”
He moves stealthily through the apartment, his hands warming in preparation for the worst. The hairs on the back of his neck rise as he quietly moves from room to room. Nothing is off center, nothing has been moved, not even by a centimeter. The feeling doesn’t go away.
When he’s circled the apartment twice, Bakugo’s eyebrows pinch and he frowns. Your cat, having left the room now, starts to circle around Katsuki’s steps, nearly tripping him. With an annoyed exhale, Katsuki refills the cat bowl with kibble and returns to you again.
“What was it?” You whisper.
He shakes his head, still unable to shake off the gnawing feeling of anxiety and alarm in his lower belly. “Nothing. I’m gonna get us a better alarm system though. Can’t trust this shitty building,” he crawls back into bed with you. You’re wearing his sweatshirt now, and the worry between your eyes doesn’t leave even with him back in bed.
“Sorry,” he nudges your nose with his. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine, Katsuki.” You cup his cheeks and look into his scarlet eyes. “What’s been going on? You’ve been acting strange lately. Is it work or…”
He’s quiet before he decides to lean into your hands, eyes fluttering shut before he shifts to rest against your chest. He tries to think of an answer, on why he’s been on edge lately like this. Work hasn’t been stressful, not any more stressful at least. In fact, with the new rankings Bakugou feels that everything is finally coming into place. The city feels safer, civilians have started to lean their trust onto heroes again.
He can see a brighter future. One with you in it, one where he takes the number one spot, one with a family and little brats running around.
In his mind’s eye, everything in his future means you're there beside him.
It’s why listening to your heart right now calms him.
“I don’t know,” Bakugou answers truthfully, his voice is gruff and muffled in your sweater. “Sometimes work follows me home.”
“Not literally I hope,” you chuckle.
He peaks up and smiles again, “‘No not literally, idiot.”
-(-)-
Work has been shit all day. A blizzard is coming in and it might hit the city sooner than what the reporters are saying, it’s all hands on deck with the exception of the top five. Bakugou has been held from patrolling and working on his active cases today, all so that the top five ranked heroes can interview with Japan’s most elite magazine publisher. Sitting in front of a camera crew across from an interviewer isn’t how he wanted to spend his day. He was asked to come in with casual wear. “Be prepared to be dressed and made up over and over,” his manager warned him. Annoyance doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling right now.
Bakugou’s interview was first, as number five in the hero ranks. Everything went smoothly, he answered the stupid questions, he played along with the idiocy and obsession with his physical appearance. What he couldn’t stand was the implication that his success was based on the prestigious connections to his old teachers and mentors: All Might, Endeavor, Best Jeanist.
“You’ve been so lucky to have gotten their help over the years-,” The woman (Suzuki? Katsuki can’t seem to remember her fucking name), crosses her legs before being interrupted abruptly.
“What does luck have to do with it? I didn’t ask for their help, they sought me out because I’m a fucking goddamn good hero- no scratch that. I’m the fucking best. I don’t need any old bastard to try and take credit for my hard fucking work!” Yeah… he knows he fucked up.
The poor interviewer is shell-shocked, her stupid professional smile frozen and twitching across her face as she tries to keep herself composed. “Ah, sorry. I- Congratulations on your rank, Dynamite. And good luck- I mean-!” Oh her name is Sasaki, Katsuki scowls, and that seems to only make her more nervous.
He rolls his eyes, catching a glimpse of a stiffened Deku watching the mess of an interview unravel. The others are wide eyed as well, bones stiff with second-hand embarrassment.
“I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for those who pushed me,” Katsuki grumbles and looks down at his hands. He thinks about the myth, Vena Amora, the vein that leads straight to one’s heart right from the finger. The promise you both made wrapped around yours, maybe he should get one too…
“It was my hard work and them pushing me to go further,” He looks ahead and watches Sasaki regain her composure, sitting up straighter as his response settles in the air. “It ain’t about luck.”
His assistant is no help, either. He’s a nervous, quirkless man who can’t multitask, and has been more of a wreck lately. And now, he spilled coffee all over Bakugou’s suit. So now Katsuki’s changing for the upteenth time, his jaw clenched as he tries to remember his breathing exercises.
Katsuki is lacing up his combat boots when he sees his phone light up with a message from you. He leans in and swipes to read your text, a faint smile already spreading across his lips.
you:
i put away all the supplies you got btw!! almost made me late to work! if this blizzard doesn’t come we are going to be eating in every day to get rid of this shit :P
You’ve sent a video attachment, and the moment he hears your voice it seems like the weight on his shoulders is already lifting. He watches you with a tiny smile, finding it easier to breathe again. You’re showing him all the little pottery projects that a third grade class on a class field trip had finished, laughing as you try to explain each student and their creation.
“They’re so fucking bad at throwing pottery! So cute!” You giggle and flip the camera back to yourself, you’re wearing a medical mask to protect your cold from the school children. Katsuki’s smile grows and he laughs softly to himself as you talk about which pottery piece is your unofficial favorite.
“Anyway! I hope today doesn’t suck ass. I have a commission to work on tonight, so I’ll be up when you get home. Okay bye!!”
Before Bakugou can text back, there’s a timid knock on the changing room door. He slips his phone in his pocket and pauses, taking a deep breath to try and dampen his annoyance. On the other side is his assistant, the man his agency thrusted upon him. He’s small, just like his employee file since there isn’t any quirk to input in the system. High school education, went to Tokyo University for a degree in public relations and Hero Statistics, and other things that bored Katsuki. He’s not sure why he would settle for being an assistant of an arrogant up-and-coming pro-hero, Bakugou has nothing to teach or offer him.
He tries to be patient with him though. Especially now that Akui is offering him another cup of coffee as penance for the one he spilled all over Bakugou just five minutes ago.
“Thanks,” Katsuki grumbles and takes it from Akui’s bony hand.
“Was that your fiancé on the phone?” Akui offers an awkward smile and his voice is wobbly as he tries to keep up with Bakugou.
“Yeah, playing with mud with some bratty kids. What’s this?” He glares at the stack of paperwork handed to him, and flipping through he groans. “Why is the commission so interested in this?”
“I- I don’t know, sir? They told me to hand it to you.” Akui stumbles beside Bakugou and glances at the paperwork, “It seems like they just want to know how you reached your ranking this year.”
“Because I fucking worked hard,” Bakugou scoffs. The warmth you left inside him is starting to grow cold, replaced instead with annoyance as the technical side of hero work starts to anchor in. “What’s so hard to understand?”
His assistant is silent as they stand together, watching the camera and stage crew adjust once again. The busy-body crew members zip back and forth as the number three hero takes her seat in the interview chair. Nejire Chan chats happily with the makeup artist touching up the blush on her cheeks, nothing that Bakugou can understand. To Katsuki’s left he can see the other two-thirds of UA’s infamous Big Three, Suneater and Lemillion, watching Nejire’s interview start.
“There’s a theory that was developed by some mathematicians.” When Akui speaks, Katsuki glances down at him, his assistant looking almost past the two heroes as he stares seriously into the distance. “It’s to help determine the predictability of a hero’s ranking. It’s supposed to be fairly accurate. Apparently, another hero was supposed to be in your place. Yet you defied those odds.”
It takes a moment for Katsuki to respond as he mulls his words over, “You studied statistics.” It’s spoken almost like a question, but Akui looks over at Bakugou, stunned that he even knows that fact about him.
“Y-yes!” Whatever reverie Akui was in, snaps.
“Do you agree with them?” Bakugou looks over at the man and wonders if he ever gets any sunlight. His pale skin makes him shiver just looking at him, and Bakugou wonders how someone could look so translucent under these lights.l
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation, firmly. “You shouldn’t have won.” An emotion Katsuki doesn’t recognize flashes across Akui’s face, too quick for him before he settles back into the Akui he recognizes. “But- but that’s good! You defy odds, it makes you an amazing pro!”
Katsuki stares at Akui for a moment, a question lingering on his tongue before Izuku beats him to it. “Kacchan!”
“Get the fuck off me,” Bakugou shakes off Izuku who only holds on tighter.
“I’m getting calls for you from your agency, you shouldn’t have said that-!”
“Oh fuck off,” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “They got a good sound bite at the end, it's fine. This is all bullshit, anyway. We should be out there working. Not here getting pampered for doing our fucking jobs.” Izuku only hums back, obviously not agreeing with his behavior still.
Akui is called away, leaving behind the two younger pro-heroes to watch as Suneater nervously takes his place in the spotlight. A silence falls over the set as he speaks, everyone drawn in by his quiet voice and subtle, quirky charm. There’s a soft scratching of pencil on paper, and Bakugou doesn’t have to look to know that Izuku is taking notes.
“By the way, when the fuck did you tell people about Mud and I?”
Izuku stops his notetaking and looks up with a flash of confusion before he realizes who “Mud” is. Ah, your pottery. He smiles confusedly, “Uhh I don’t know what you mean. Everyone knows you two are dating.”
“You told people we got engaged though,” Katsuki glares at Deku who only grows more confused by the second.
“W-wait! You proposed? When the fuck did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me??” Izuku squeaks and his eyes grow large.
“Huh?! Since when do I have to tell you anything?!”
“I’m your best friend-!” He’s interrupted by a crew member scolding them both, leaving Deku to be blushing furiously and bowing in apology.
“Whatever,” Katsuki scoffs to himself. “We can’t really celebrate anyway until after the storm.”
“Are you guys all prepared?” Izuku is absent-mindedly playing with his hands as the two men watch the new number one hero step in his seat.
“Yeah, you?”
Deku nods, both of them are itching to get back on the field. Their agencies are in full emergency lockdown status, trying to get the city in lockdown to minimize casualties. Katsuki remembers clearly what the Endeavor agency’s procedures were for something like this, he’s certain that it’s killing Deku to be out of those plans now. Katsuki can’t say the same of his new agency, though. He’s a little perplexed by how their operations run for emergencies like the oncoming storm. Bakugou offered his services for an entire week before today, knowing that it’s an all hands on deck situation for pro-heroes to help. Yet his agency shut him out. They gave him fake smiles and assured him that his services should be focused elsewhere.
“You should come back,” Deku quietly tells Bakugou.
Katsuki only hums in reply, knowing how much he’s aching to go back. His gut tells him otherwise, it’s telling him he’s close to finding out who his employers actually are.
“Katsuki,” Izuku is staring at Bakugou, watching his eyes harden as he holds back something he can’t even tell his oldest friend. “Is everything okay?”
Katsuki can’t answer, because the obvious answer is yes. Everything is okay. This agency was able to make him go up higher in the ranks. Yet there’s this gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that he’s been forced to wear blinders, forced to look ahead and not at the man behind the curtain. He’s determined to pull it apart.
-(-)-
The ride home is quiet with the exception of the car radio playing softly in the background. Bakugou is exhausted, his shoulders carry the weight of the photoshoot and the interviews even more than they do on his normal patrolling days. Annoyingly, another pro is being interviewed right now. Katsuki turns the volume up a few notches, catching the familiar phantom pro-hero explaining her success in reaching the dead All Might’s ghost. Tch, there’s no one to prove her quirk even exists. Bakugou switches the radio station to a local channel that plays only classical and jazz music.
His manager gave him an earful about his outburst already, there was barely anything to salvage in his interview. An apology letter and an edible arrangement is going to be sent to the production crew, and one for just Sasaki, out of Bakugou’s next paycheck. He supposes he deserves that just a little. To be fair, though, Katsuki already privately apologized to her.
It’s been a long day.
He sighs in relief when your apartment comes to view, the street lights glowing serenely greet him up the sidewalk. Each step drags until he’s finally at your door, the bite of the wintery cold burns on his cheeks when he steps inside the hot apartment.
“I’m home!” He shrugs off his jacket, ears straining to hear your voice. Bakugou sheds his many layers without hearing you call back out to him, instead he’s only met with soft music. He glances at the clock above the stove, wondering why you’re up so late.
Katsuki heads to your mini studio, really it’s just a second bedroom that barely fits your pottery wheel and kiln. You both worked hard to renovate it, and by you both it was mostly Bakugou, but he was determined to have your space be done within a day. It’s where you spend your time working when you’re not at your studio, halfway across the city. When you told him that you are a potter, he teased you for playing with mud so much he ended up nicknaming you that.
The first time he knew he was in love with you was when you showed him how to throw pottery, the patience you had in him that not even Katsuki possessed as he struggled to mold the clay between his thick fingers. He grumbled and cursed under his breath with each failed attempt to make a decent bowl, until finally he did it. A wobbly, lopsided bowl that even your hands couldn’t make perfect as you attempted to guide him. Yet you grinned, proud of him for that shitty bowl. You cheered for him, even glazed the damn thing and now it sits by the doorway as a bowl that holds your keys.
“I don’t usually make shit with my hands,” he grumbled with the tips of his ears growing red.
“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed with your back turned to him. You were carefully putting away his bowl to be fired up in the kiln later, already wondering how you were gonna glaze it. “You've cooked for me before, that counts.”
Katsuki remembers realizing how you really view him for the first time. Not as the pro who’s explosions destroy and combust, not as the angry asshole who never learns to give up a fight. You didn’t see his hands are weapons of destruction. You saw him delicately plate food together, you’ve seen him make music with his hands, they’re the same hands who finds yours in the dark because he knows you’re afraid of what’s in the shadows. They’re the hands that slip through your fingers when he’s making love to you, they’re the hands that create wobbly bowls for you because you keep losing your keys.
It’s the first time he understood what being in love meant.
So he finds you now, totally entranced in another project that he assumes is the commission you mentioned earlier today.
“Playing with mud again?” He hears you snicker before you look over your shoulder, hands slick with wet clay as your creation spins before you.
“Mhm, ‘m almost done.” You flash him a smile and face your work again.
Katsuki pulls up another stool and sits right behind you, hooking his over over your shoulder to watch you work. Your ring finger is void of your engagement ring, although Bakugou doesn’t mind. It’s relaxing, mesmerizing even, watching your hands work so delicately to mold nothing into something.
“How long have you been workin’ on this, Mud?” Bakugou presses a kiss on your shoulder and stifles a laugh when your fingers dig a little too deep, collapsing the entire piece.
“Since noon,” you sigh and scrap the vase.
“You’re still not out of the woods just yet, why are you dressed like it’s still summer?”
“It’s hot,” you defend yourself with a laugh. An improperly timed sniffle escapes you and Bakugou snorts in reply, nuzzling his cold nose into your skin again.
“Can I help?” Bakugou moves in closer until his broad chest is pressed firmly against your back.
“Yeah,” you laugh. “Put your hands here… yup, and then you’re just gonna get them wet before we start.” Your hands dip into the bucket of murky water beside you and you wet Bakugou’s hands in the clay/water mixture. Your fingers are messier than his since you’ve been working all day, but as you prep his hands he can’t help smiling as you guide him.
“Mhm, perfect.” You mutter, curling your fingers against the wet clay as you try to form the base again. “Now just let the clay slide between your fingers.”
Katsuki does as you say, all the while pressing lingering kisses against your bare skin. You get hot in your little makeshift studio, and end up wearing shorts and tank tops in the dead of winter. It’s perfect for these moments, Katsuki thinks. Teasing you with kisses where he knows you’re most sensitive, letting the mud slip between his fingers before gliding his hands higher. He makes a bigger mess out of you, his hands caressing your wrists and forearms, gently massaging you all while kissing up your shoulder and neck. You’re melting under him, shy giggles slipping out like gasps from your lips as you try to work.
Bakugou kisses the junction of your ear and neck, gently nipping at your sensitive spot. He watches you with amusement as you try to mold the clay, his hands going back to where you first had him start. “Like this?” He whispers against your ear.
You can only hum in reply, making him grin. Each of his thick thighs are beside yours as he presses in closer to you, trapping you in. The heat of his body is molding you, melting and reshaping you as you attempt to steady your hands. Until finally, when he can’t take it anymore, Katsuki manages to slip your hands away from the clay. Your attention fixes back to him as you turn to kiss him back, his tongue slipping through your lips to taste you. His hands hold onto yours, distantly he thinks back to when he first knew he loved you.
“It’s gonna take me another whole ass day to try and fix this,” you whisper between kisses.
Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Shut up and lemme kiss you. I’ve missed you all day, Mud.”
“Oh yeah?” You smile as he trails his lips down your jaw. “Wanna show me how much you’ve missed me?”
“With pleasure,” Bakugou smirks against your skin before gently nibbling at you.
-(-)-
“What time is it?” You whisper from on top of his bare chest, still breathless.
Katsuki glances at the clock and curses under his breath, “Is the trash still coming?” His arms tighten around your waist as you twist to look, feeling you deflate.
“Yeah, the news said that they’re coming overnight before the storm hits,” you groan when he starts to slip you off him. “Katsuki, don’t leave!”
“You really wanna be stuck in this apartment with trash rotting in every corner?” Bakugou flashes you a smirk and pushes you back down into the mattress, kissing you passionately all the while.
“Maybe,” you mumble against his lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him down again, hoping he stays. “Lemme get dressed, I’ll come down with you.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, but if it’s the only way you’ll let him go downstairs he’ll take it. “I ain’t waiting on ya though, I’ll be back before you’re even got your slippers on.”
It’s a small exaggeration that leaves you huffing and him grinning wickedly. However, to be fair, by the time Katsuki has gathered all the trash, you’re still in bed putting on socks. “I’ll meet you downstairs!”
Katsuki skips the elevator and decides to go down the stairs instead, not wanting to disturb the other tenants. The cold air nearly steals the oxygen from his lungs, already the wind is picking up and chills him down to his bones. Bakugou pushes through, hoping you actually don’t come down now. You’re still fighting that cold, you don’t need to be dealing with this shit.
It’s a small walk around the corner towards the dumpsters when it starts to snow, clumps that immediately stick on their landing. Katsuki watches for a moment, mesmerized by the snow catching onto his hoodie and settling against his blonde hair. He pauses for a moment, staring up into the sky framed by the city apartment buildings. The cold air whips at him, cutting through his hoodie and sweats. Bakugou snaps out of his trance slowly, shivering as he throws out the trash.
It happens far too quickly.
He’s pushed hard into the cold metal dumpster, immediately thrown off balance by the slick sidewalk. Something stabs into his back, again and again. The sight of his blood pooling against the snow pisses Katsuki off enough for him to stand again. With wobbly legs he runs after his attacker down the street, cursing himself for not being faster and for not sensing the danger faster.
“Katsuki!” Your voice calls out to him. “Katsuki!”
“Stay- stay back!” He yells back, turning only when he hears your screams.
You’re lying next to the dumpster, hunched over and screaming. Katsuki furrows his brows, panic lurching in his belly as he runs back towards you. The absolute horror settles into his bones colder than the air around him. You’re crying on top of his body, whimpering and crying out for help as your hands try to stop the blood from his wounds.
“Mud…” He tries to touch you but his hand slips through your face.
“Somebody! Somebody help me!” You scream louder and louder, voice cracking as you try to cradle his body closer to you.
“I’m- I’m right here! Goddamn it, I’m right here!” Katsuki screams right by your ear, trying to touch you.
“You can’t leave me, don’t you leave me- Help! Somebody help me!”
A pro-hero he doesn’t recognize arrives on the scene. And then the ambulances.
Katsuki stays by your side, desperately trying to stay by your side. He catches on to your whispered pleas, begging him to hold on even though he’s right next to you trying to do the exact same thing.
He doesn’t look at the body whose hand you’re holding, it’s not him. He’s right next to you. He's right next to you, please look at him.
The doctors tell you he was stabbed by someone who’s quirk turns blood into poison. That’s how he…
“I’m not dead! I’m right here! I’m right fucking here!” Katsuki screams into the doctor’s face, all the rage boiling over inside him until he’s red in the face. “I ain’t fucking dead!”
He tries to stop them from telling you that he’s gone, he tries to cradle you against him when you curl into yourself. He just helplessly falls through the molecules instead.
“Are you ready?” He waits for you to reply, watching you cry as the doctor awkwardly pats your shoulder and gives you the space to grieve.
“Are you ready?” The voice asks again, this time there’s a tap on his shoulder.
Bakugou turns, unable to think. “Me? You’re talking to me? You can see me?”
“Yes of course,” it says. Whatever it is, it’s dressed in dark robes with a hood. The face is static aside from their eyes, yellow and bright as it watches him. “Are you ready?” They ask again.
“For what?” Katsuki steps back when they step forward. “Ready for what?” He spats out, scowling when they step closer again. “Back the fuck up!” He lunges forward with his palms outstretched, ready to attack. The usual sparks of an explosion are gone, nothing happens.
The being stares at him unimpressed. “Are you done? I don’t have all day, I kinda have a quota to meet.”
“N-no, I ain’t- I ain’t going with you!” Katsuki lurches back, heart aching that he isn’t near you anymore as it steps closer to him.
“Well, Katsuki Bakugou. You’re dead, and I’m here to take you.” They step right in front of you, not that you can see them. Their head tilts and its yellow eyes squint at Bakugou, “So it seems like we are at a crossroads now.”
-(-)-