Find My Peace (Anticlimactic)

On Ao3

.....

Eventually Bakugou dropped his phone to the side, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. Honestly he felt kind of let down. He'd built up being number one for so long but now it just felt like another ranking, just another day. He was a great hero, he was recognized years ago as such and he'd work to keep being a great hero as long as he could. But the actual label of number one, knowing he was put first, that all his hard work finally paid off…

It felt anticlimactic. 

Blindfolds and Curry

(Also on ao3)

For @bsdfanweek Day 3 - Secret Relationship

-----

Chuuya sighed the moment he stepped into his apartment, the scent of brine in the air. 

"Can you not today? Boss had me basically tortured all day to make me swear I haven't seen you."

"Well then," a familiar fishy voice came from behind him just as a silken cloth crossed his vision. He felt it being tied comfortably behind his head. "Let's make sure you don't see me."

"Asshole," Chuuya grumbled, but he didn't fight the other as Dazai maneuvered him out of his coat before kneeling to take off his shoes. "You better be putting those away correctly.”

"Yes, yes,” Dazai waved off his complaints, and Chuuya leaned into the kiss he gave him. Something soft and domestic, a simple I'm home. Chuuya slumped with exhaustion, not even yelling when he heard the predictable careless thump of his shoes being dropped into a disarray. 

Use Your Words

(on ao3)

"I know we're in a truce with the Port Mafia, and Akutagawa did agree to stop killing people for now, but I just don't know how to make it work between us." Atsushi looked up, sincerity in his eyes. "How do you manage it, Dazai-san?"

Dazai felt something like his spirit ascending outside of his body as he stared into Atsushi's naive and innocent eyes.

"How do I manage what?" He asked, caught somewhat off guard by wherever this line of questioning was going. Sure, he'd wanted Atsushi and Akutagawa to team up, but he hadn't expected romantic feelings to become involved.

"Your relationship with Nakahara-san." Dazai felt his heart stop beating for a moment in his chest, forcibly concentrating so he could make it start back up normally. Atsushi continued on, oblivious to the damage he was causing. "You defected from the Port Mafia which must have hurt him pretty bad since you guys were partners. It seems like he forgave you though. So how do you make it work? How do you–"

"Atsushi," Dazai wheezed, "I need you to stop talking."

Atsushi did, looking a bit chagrined once he realized the state of his mentor. "Sorry. Too personal?"

"Chuuya and I are not together. In any way."

My NSFW for @invictuskrbkzine!

Lead (I Will Follow)

(on ao3)

The worst scar was on his side, just under his ribcage, and Kirishima traced it now with a gentleness that never failed to stutter Bakugou’s heart.

“The day you got this was the worst day of my life,” Kirishima said softly, coaxing Bakugou higher up on his chest so he could lean up and kiss over the marred skin.

“Death did not claim me that day. When we go, we will be together. No force on this earth may separate us.”

"A dragon does not part with his treasure,” he agreed, referring to his forsaken moniker that was sweeping the land, the Red Dragon of Yuuei. An unbreakable steed for the leader of the Yuuei tribe, the Untamed Berserker Bakugou Katsuki.

So excited to post my @invictuskrbkzine pieces!

The first one up is my SFW piece:

Your Mark on Me

(On ao3)

“I’m really sorry,” Kirishima said on their way home, once they were alone and back in their school uniforms. No longer heroes, not right now. Just Bakugou and Kirishima.

“Shit happens.”

“I should’ve been more careful. I—”

“You will be next time,” Bakugou said, taking his hand and squeezing. “Rather you scrape me up a bit than a civilian. I can take it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. I should’ve—”

“You going to do it again?”

Kirishima stopped, eyes wide as he whirled to face the other. “No!” He denied, vehement. “Why would you even—”

“Then it’s fine,” Bakugou said simply. “You learned something new, and it won’t happen again.” Bakugou stepped forward, cupping his face to make Kirishima’s shame-filled eyes look at him. “I know you won’t let it happen again, Red. I trust you.”

.....

(The scars Bakugou and Kirishima leave on each other, and the healing that follows.)

There was a lot unsaid between them. 

Some people said they could read each other's minds, but that wasn't quite it. If hard-pressed, Dazai wasn't completely sure he could describe it himself. His connection with Chuuya wasn't normal by any means, and it rivaled the complication of the Riemann hypothesis. But they still worked. Inexplicably. Undeniably. Unbreakably.

“I hate you.”

The words said between them most often, and yet Dazai couldn't say for sure if they were a lie or not. There was something tethering them, some emotional conglomeration woven stronger than steel, but to narrow it down to just one thing felt inadequate. 

When Chuuya touched him, Dazai burned, skin set aflame for hours later. When Chuuya looked at him, his chest contracted, lungs compressed, and Dazai found it difficult to look away. They avoided each other like a planet and its moon, caught in each other's gravity, never colliding but unable to break apart. Dazai had no delusions of which part he played, ever the moon paying worship to the planetary god made flesh that existed as Nakahara Chuuya. 

“Chuuya,” he called him, as if he ever held the right to speak a god's name. To own it with his teeth and tongue, to cry it out into the darkness when Chuuya took him like it was his right. 

(It was. There weren't many pieces of Dazai left, but most of what few there were had always and would always be Chuuya's. Dazai had been his from the moment he'd stood over Dazai with a foot at his throat and the sun at his back, eclipsing any other star Dazai might have followed.)

Bakugou didn't pause as he stormed into the apartment, dropping his things in a trail along the way to his bedroom, where he face-planted next to the sole occupant on the bed.

“Long day?” 

Fingers combed through his hair, and Bakugou shuffled a little closer. He heard a chuckle and then the mattress shifted, before he felt a weight straddle his hips and confident hands press into his shoulders. 

“Fuck yes,” Bakugou groaned, eyes shutting. “They should be thanking me for not committing murder.”

“Mm-hmm.” 

The hands were steady in their pressure, thumbs rubbing along his spine expertly, and Bakugou felt the tension being forcibly rubbed from his body. He didn't fight it. 

“Surprised you're here,” Bakugou commented, already sounding less angry. “Thought you had work today.”

“I–or, well, he–finished early.” The other snickered at his own joke, and Bakugou managed a small huff.

“Lame joke, Eijirou,” he accused, but the tone was fond. 

“Welcome home, love.” This was met with familiar lips pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, a nose trailing along his hairline to his jaw. 

Bakugou rolled over, looking up at the red-headed male straddling him. He was smiling with too many, too sharp teeth exposed, eyes glowing even in shadow, and the longer Bakugou looked, the less human he appeared. Not that Kirishima tried particularly hard these days, not for Bakugou. The hands that rested on his shoulders had flawless nails, all coming to the slightest points to suggest claws. Bakugou knew they could easily grow to a much more lethal length. 

“Was your day okay?” He asked, shuffling a little to sit up against the pillows but doing nothing to dislodge the man who followed his movement and leaned down to nuzzle their noses together. 

“Was fine,” Kirishima hummed, kissing under Bakugou's chin. “Missed you.” His arms wrapped around Bakugou's neck, tugging him closer into a hug.

“Yeah,” Bakugou breathed, hands finding their home on the other's hips, holding him close as he returned the embrace. Once, such a touch would've been awkward, but now Bakugou was familiar with the others touchiness, even encouraged it a lot of the time. They'd discussed limits and boundaries until Bakugou was hoarse, so it was easy now to trust Kirishima not to push for more than Bakugou was willing to give. 

“Sleep with me?” Kirishima asked, pulling away to meet Bakugou's gaze. His eyes were magnetic, alluring. Bakugou shoved a palm into his face and pushed him off of him. He rolled onto his back on the bed beside him, giggling, and it sounded like bells. 

“Idiot,” Bakugou accused, but he did snuggle down into the bed, letting Kirishima spoon up behind him. The other purred against his back, and the teeth pressed against his neck were all for show. 

“I was just asking for a nap,” Kirishima teased. “I know you like a nap after a bad day to reset before we do dinner.” 

“Fucking incubus,” Bakugou grumbled, sending Kirishima into another round of laughter, “and a liar too. You'd sleep with me in a heartbeat if I offered.”

“I would,” Kirishima agreed easily, “but you haven't offered, and you know I wouldn't take without your consent.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bakugou relented, and he relaxed against the mattress, letting some of the tension that had gathered in his shoulders evaporate again. For a demon, Kirishima was oddly concerned about consent, said Bakugou's rejection smelled too sharply to be ignored. For someone like Bakugou, who had no interest in sex ever, it was equally odd that he'd find a sex demon more accepting of his ‘no’ than most other humans he'd tried dating. 

“Sleep,” Kirishima cooed to him, and he was definitely adding some of his magic, not that it truly touched Bakugou the way it did most. It did feel warm though, like the arms that were wrapped around him. Bakugou didn't feel the need to fight his heavy eyes any longer, drifting off to sleep in his demon's embrace. 

Regret

(Also on Ao3)

Mori was not unfamiliar with regret. 

Of course, he'd never let that stop him from acting in Yokohama's best interest. A few times in his life, he'd even had the displeasure of regretting his actions before he'd even taken them. But above all else lied the greater good, so he couldn't let sentimentality or emotions sway him from it. 

He sat in his chair contemplating such regrets now, looking out over the skyline and brushing a finger along the rim of his glass on the table beside him. He smiled wistfully. Peace was hard to come by but always appreciated, especially given his position and the current tumultuous status of their dear city. 

"Boss." 

Mori looked up to see Chuuya stepping into the office, holding up a few manilla folders. Mori inclined his head to the chair next to him. 

"Chuuya, welcome back. Leave the reports on my desk and have a drink with me."

Chuuya didn't argue, always up for a casual drink. The man did as requested, leaving the files neatly on Mori's desk before coming around to take the empty seat. He poured himself a healthy glass of wine, and Mori hid his smile behind his own glass. His executive's love of the drink was no secret, but neither was his incredibly low tolerance of the stuff. Mori eyed the one glass and wondered if he'd need to send for someone to escort Chuuya home after this. 

"Mission went well, I presume?"

"Yes," Chuuya nodded, swishing the wine in his cup and sniffing it with a grin. "No casualties or unexpected issues."

"Well done," he praised. "And our truce? How fairs our little kept detectives?"

Chuuya snorted, rolling his eyes. "They have no troubles, not with that bandaged menace among them. If anything, our concern should be them betraying us first."

Mori hummed thoughtfully, eyes sliding from Chuuya back to the cityscape. "I'm not concerned," he admitted easily. "Dazai is smarter than that."

Chuuya grumbled under his breath what sounded like disagreement on Dazai's intelligence, but Mori just chuckled at his theatrics. 

"Chuuya," Mori called his attention, "you know I have much respect for you, thanks to all that you've done since joining the Port Mafia. You are an incredibly talented individual and much more than simply the brawn of Double Black, as some of our enemies may say. I trust your strategy."

Chuuya seemed to be getting embarrassed under his praise, but his face twisted with befuddlement at Mori's last statement. "My strategy?" 

"With Dazai," Mori clarified, smile sharp. 

Chuuya tensed ever-so-slightly. "What do you mean? I hate Dazai and want him dead."

Mori raised a brow, glancing over at him. "Oh? Did I misunderstand Dazai being seen leaving your apartment several times since our truce?" 

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed 😁

Pet Names

"Hey, Kit Kat, how's it breaking?" 

Bakugou looked up from his book, blinking with befuddlement. Kirishima immediately wanted to kiss his nose as Bakugou scrunched it up, and since they were boyfriends, he decided to do just that, leaning over the back of the couch to smooch him. He giggled as he pulled away, seeing Bakugou's eyes cross as he tried to keep looking at Kirishima's face. 

"The fuck did you just say?" Bakugou asked, tilting his head, and god, Kirishima loved him. 

"What's up, basically," Kirishima explained, leaping over the back of the couch so he could recline and put his head in the blond's lap. 

"What did you call me though?" Bakugou said, lip curling with annoyance. 

"Kit Kat," Kirishima said, reaching up to soothe the wrinkles in Bakugou's brow with his thumb. "I thought it was cute."

Bakugou rolled his eyes, face finally relaxing again as he looked back at his book. He held the book in one hand, the other freed up so he could comb through Kirishima's hair. The redhead immediately melted under his touch.

"Whatever," Bakugou acknowledged. "'S stupid, but so are you, so."

Kirishima burst into laughter. Even dating hadn't smoothed out all of the blond's prickliness, but he wasn't upset about it.

"Want me to call you something else?" He asked curiously. "Honey? Sweetheart? Darling?" 

Bakugou shoved his palm into his face, squeezing his cheeks as Kirishima tried to grin at him. "Fuck off, dumbass!" His face was brilliantly red, and Kirishima loved it. 

"Awe, come on, Blasty. Boyfriends should have cute names for each other."

"I let you call me Katsuki."

"Yeah, but so do your parents. I want to be special," he stressed.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "You are special, you idiot." 

Kirishima pouted. "You call everyone an idiot," he argued. 

"Hah?" Bakugou set his book down on the table, sending Kirishima a serious look. "You fucking with me right now? Or is this really bothering you?" 

Kirishima shrugged, biting his lip unsurely. "Maybe…a little of both?" He hesitantly admitted. "It's fine if you're not comfortable with it, though. Just Katsuki is special enough, cause no one else here gets to call you that." He smiled softly up at the blond. 

Bakugou hummed; he had that look in his eyes that meant he was thinking about something serious. He played with Kirishima's hair in the meantime, relaxing the redhead into a light doze as he just soaked in his boyfriend's affection. 

"Sunshark."

Kirishima opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. "Sunshark?" He repeated. 

"You're my sunshark," Bakugou decided, nodding to himself. He brushed his fingers along the side of Kirishima's face, tracing around his eyes with a gentle touch. "Sun," he said, brushing the spikes of his hair up, before moving to Kirishima's lips which naturally parted under his touch. Bakugou poked at his teeth, "Shark." Then he leaned back, flicking Kirishima's nose lightly and huffing a small laugh to himself as Kirishima rubbed at his nose. His face was quickly heating under Bakugou's soft gaze.

"Okay," he managed to get out without squeaking. "I'm okay with that one." 

"Good." 

"Canyoubemydandelion?" Kirishima asked quickly. 

Bakugou sputtered, surprised, and he sent him an incredulous look. "You're calling me a fucking weed?" 

"No, no," Kirishima was quick to assure, laughing at the absurdity. "I meant, your hair looks similar to one, yeah? And dandelions are tough fuckers to beat; they even grow in between concrete!" 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, as if he didn't fully believe Kirishima's reasoning, but he eventually sighed and shrugged. "I guess. Whatever you want." He leaned down to peck Kirishima's forehead. "Boyfriends are supposed to get special treatment or whatever." 

Kirishima beamed. "Thanks, dandy," he said automatically, chuckling at the way Bakugou's face scrunched with unsurety on how he felt about the nickname.

"Whatever, babe. You're so weird," Bakugou determined, and Kirishima immediately clicked his jaw shut, eyes bugging at the casual use of 'babe.' 

K.O. Super effective. 

Bakugou grinned to himself, turning the page of his book while Kirishima drooled in his lap with hearts in his eyes. 

Twilight Dream

On Ao3

Summary:

After Mersault, after the Hunting Dogs, after Bram and the vampires, after Sigma, and the hospital, and the Port Mafia, and the ADA, after, after, after everything…

Dazai found himself at a familiar apartment. He didn't even have to reach for his lockpick as the door swung open under his hand.

"Can't believe that fucking worked," Chuuya spoke, voice much lower than usual. "Wasn't he supposed to be as smart as you?"

"Chuuya surprises me sometimes too," Dazai reminded him.

Chuuya scoffed. "Never that much."

Dazai pressed their sides together and the other's warmth was soothing to the anxiety he still felt about the end. "We have had moments when our hearts reached out to one another."

Chuuya hummed. "Our fate didn't end there. We're destined to…"

Finally, Chuuya looked at him, their eyes meeting, and Dazai immediately broke into giggles. Chuuya dropped his head back onto the couch and laughed, laughed, laughed.