Bakugou "Go Eat Shit and Fucking Die" Katsuki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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deercountry2022-10-04 01:35 pm
detonating) wrote in deercountry2022-10-04 01:35 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] It's been a long day without you, my friend
Who: Bakugou Katsuki and Uraraka Ochako
What: Return from the dead
When: Beginning of October
Where: Their home in Crenshaw
Content Warnings: Talk of death/dying, narrative descriptions of burns and blunt force trauma, his filthy mouth probably
[They don't live far from the beach, but it will wind up feeling like it might have been the longest journey of his life by the time Katsuki gets home. It's not just the dread of what's to come--there is going to be so much to fucking unpack emotionally as soon as he's reunited with his girlfriend, but also thanks to the fact that he can hardly keep himself walking straight. Every muscle in his body is screaming for reprieve as he forces them to work through their weakness, his equilibrium is still fucked sideways and Katsuki is actively fighting off the nausea that he... isn't sure he can even blame on the sea water he'd swallowed swimming his way back to shore. He'd already puked his guts out on the beach and gotten it out of his system, so... he's got nothing but the dizziness to account for the fact that he feels like he still wants to empty his guts with every step he takes. Consequences of dying, maybe? You come back feeling like road kill? Seems like a reasonable enough explanation. It's better than admitting that it might just be the trauma from what happened to him in the first place.
Every effort that doesn't go into forcing his legs to move is being applied there, willing away every mental snap shot and flashback to the indescribably painful sensation of his own flesh sizzling--burning away or the image of Dabi's face just before they were rendered into nothing but ash. Jaw hanging unnaturally because he clean snapped it off of his skull with one of his blows, tongue lolling. Wide, blood shot crazed eyes leering just inches between them--
No. Not fucking doing it. Go away. Go away! He'd puke right then and there, if there were anything left to eject in the first place. Fuck you, Dabi. You're not gonna fucking haunt him like that, you don't get another second of Katsuki's goddamn time! Just put one foot in front of the other and get home. It's fucking cold, his clothes are still dripping wet and all he wants is her.
His omen, having met him at the beach just after his departure from Dabi, helps support the unsteady teen as he makes his way up the few steps to the house... all the way to the door where Katsuki finally stops. He takes a moment to stare at the door, reaching his free hand out (the other is still holding the bracer he hadn't wanted to put onto his tingling arm) to touch it. As if to make sure that it's real. It is... and the rest of his afforded moment is spent with his forehead pressed to it while he tries to steady himself. Mentally, physically...
His gaze casts over to the omen standing just at his side, when he's ready to move. A silent and rare thank you being conveyed in expression from the teen to the ever attentive wolf watching him. They stare at each other for a few long seconds before Murder Hound tips his head down just slightly--'of course' is what he gets out of the exchange of looks, and then the omen simply shifts into the black cloud of smoke that billows up and behind, to disappear into the teen's back in the end. Returning to where he belongs after two and a half long days of waiting. Katsuki's hand slides down the wood of the heavy door as he raises his head up, finds the knob... and with a stopped turn, finds that it's locked. Of course it's locked. Why wouldn't it be fucking locked?
Which pocket was his key in? Did he even have it? He should've, but he also wasn't supposed to be gone for more than an hour... Ochako was staying home. He can't remember grabbing it from the hook he keeps it on.
He doesn't have the energy. For any of it. Anything at all. Instead of digging for it to find out if the key is even on his person, Katsuki just sighs. Drops the heavy support item he's been lugging with him the entire way onto the deck with a thud, leans into the frame to support himself there and brings a fist up to knock hard. Once. Twice. A third time. That should do it. And if she ain't home, or if Iida isn't here (because that's right... it dawns on him suddenly in his hazy brain that it isn't just Ochako he's returning to), well. Guess he's just gonna sit and rest for a few before figuring out the rest. Maybe shoot one of them a message to come peel his roadkill ass offa the front porch.
What: Return from the dead
When: Beginning of October
Where: Their home in Crenshaw
Content Warnings: Talk of death/dying, narrative descriptions of burns and blunt force trauma, his filthy mouth probably
[They don't live far from the beach, but it will wind up feeling like it might have been the longest journey of his life by the time Katsuki gets home. It's not just the dread of what's to come--there is going to be so much to fucking unpack emotionally as soon as he's reunited with his girlfriend, but also thanks to the fact that he can hardly keep himself walking straight. Every muscle in his body is screaming for reprieve as he forces them to work through their weakness, his equilibrium is still fucked sideways and Katsuki is actively fighting off the nausea that he... isn't sure he can even blame on the sea water he'd swallowed swimming his way back to shore. He'd already puked his guts out on the beach and gotten it out of his system, so... he's got nothing but the dizziness to account for the fact that he feels like he still wants to empty his guts with every step he takes. Consequences of dying, maybe? You come back feeling like road kill? Seems like a reasonable enough explanation. It's better than admitting that it might just be the trauma from what happened to him in the first place.
Every effort that doesn't go into forcing his legs to move is being applied there, willing away every mental snap shot and flashback to the indescribably painful sensation of his own flesh sizzling--burning away or the image of Dabi's face just before they were rendered into nothing but ash. Jaw hanging unnaturally because he clean snapped it off of his skull with one of his blows, tongue lolling. Wide, blood shot crazed eyes leering just inches between them--
No. Not fucking doing it. Go away. Go away! He'd puke right then and there, if there were anything left to eject in the first place. Fuck you, Dabi. You're not gonna fucking haunt him like that, you don't get another second of Katsuki's goddamn time! Just put one foot in front of the other and get home. It's fucking cold, his clothes are still dripping wet and all he wants is her.
His omen, having met him at the beach just after his departure from Dabi, helps support the unsteady teen as he makes his way up the few steps to the house... all the way to the door where Katsuki finally stops. He takes a moment to stare at the door, reaching his free hand out (the other is still holding the bracer he hadn't wanted to put onto his tingling arm) to touch it. As if to make sure that it's real. It is... and the rest of his afforded moment is spent with his forehead pressed to it while he tries to steady himself. Mentally, physically...
His gaze casts over to the omen standing just at his side, when he's ready to move. A silent and rare thank you being conveyed in expression from the teen to the ever attentive wolf watching him. They stare at each other for a few long seconds before Murder Hound tips his head down just slightly--'of course' is what he gets out of the exchange of looks, and then the omen simply shifts into the black cloud of smoke that billows up and behind, to disappear into the teen's back in the end. Returning to where he belongs after two and a half long days of waiting. Katsuki's hand slides down the wood of the heavy door as he raises his head up, finds the knob... and with a stopped turn, finds that it's locked. Of course it's locked. Why wouldn't it be fucking locked?
Which pocket was his key in? Did he even have it? He should've, but he also wasn't supposed to be gone for more than an hour... Ochako was staying home. He can't remember grabbing it from the hook he keeps it on.
He doesn't have the energy. For any of it. Anything at all. Instead of digging for it to find out if the key is even on his person, Katsuki just sighs. Drops the heavy support item he's been lugging with him the entire way onto the deck with a thud, leans into the frame to support himself there and brings a fist up to knock hard. Once. Twice. A third time. That should do it. And if she ain't home, or if Iida isn't here (because that's right... it dawns on him suddenly in his hazy brain that it isn't just Ochako he's returning to), well. Guess he's just gonna sit and rest for a few before figuring out the rest. Maybe shoot one of them a message to come peel his roadkill ass offa the front porch.
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Fuck.
Any of his own anger over the damn thing is pushed aside, along with the dropping of that arm as he steps in with a hard, serious frown. Just that motion is dizzying, but other than holding the edge of the sink, the blond doesn't let himself show any of it. His free hand--the left, unmarred by the reminder of his recent demise, comes up to touch the line of her jaw. Just like Ochako has done for him, countless times.]
Hey. [If those now golden cat-like eyes aren't on him, he's asking for them to be. And just like before, in the doorway to their home, the blond's forehead gets pressed into hers as he leans in. Stroking lightly with his thumb, and trying so fucking hard not to do the exact same thing with his own jaw in a moment he'd naturally be inclined to.] If that shit's the price to pay to be back here with you? It's fucking worth it.
[And he does mean that. That's the one thing that makes the damn scar something he can live with. He doesn't have to fucking like it's presence, doesn't have to accept how it happened as anything that's remotely okay, but... he fucking died. He died, and he's back, and they don't get that fucking luxury in their world. Hell, it's not even promised here. He could've been sent back home, but he wasn't.
The realization that Katsuki wouldn't want to go home without her is even more sobering, but he doesn't have the time or energy to dwell on that particular mountain of mixed emotions. Not when she's right here, and fucking needs him.] It's fucking worth it. [He repeats it, trying to really convey how goddamn serious he is about that, while searching her eyes. For any sign of that corruption maybe... easing, or something.
It's gonna take more than his words though, and he knows that. There's a split second of uncharacteristic hesitation in him, and his frown only seems to tighten in that moment.] 'm gonna go get some incense. You finish up in here. Get in, if it's ready before I'm back. [A beat, to tip his head so that he can kiss her firmly. To reassure her. He knows what worry is going to rear it's head as soon as he says that he's going to leave, so the resolute words that follow the kiss are meant to try to ease it away just as much.] I will be right back.
[He gives Ochako a moment, to process that, before he slowly peels himself away to make his way (stumble, really, with some assistance of keeping his hand on a wall whenever he can) into their bedroom. He always keeps a stash of incense and matches in his bedside table, so it's not hard to find... and just as promised, he's back, closing the bathroom door behind him again, in barely any time at all.]
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Her eyelids flutter from the contact on her jaw, and Ochako looks up at her boyfriend for a moment before holding his hand to her cheek and pressing her face into it. She wants to apologize, making him worry about her when he was the one who went through so much, but...he's commanding her attention, and telling her something that she hates to admit is right. The scar, the handprint he has, it only a small price to pay for his return. Heroes get scars, Bakugou already has several and so does she. Not as large or prominent, but a scar of her arm from her first encounter with Toga, as well as one on her thigh. And there's another on a spot on her back from when she was attacked by Nine that one time. It changes nothing about how much she loves him, or how much he loves her.]
Mm...I-I know I just...I. [Ochako sighs, feeling soothed slightly but also still angry, upset, hurt more than anything.] I really hate him...and I won't ever forgive him. I don't care what name he was born with, I...I hate him so much.
[And it sucks. It sucks, because that's Shouto's brother, and Ochako cares about Shouto, not Dabi. She doesn't understand the weird obsession, how their friend seems to have just...forgiven, or forgotten everything Dabi's done in the past, just on the basis that he's a Todoroki now. He's 'Touya', and yet...is he? Is he really? Ochako doesn't know, it's not her place, but it's difficult because this effects them all. A talk for later, maybe.
Because now? Now she is kissing her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and reluctant to let him go. Not just because she's afraid he'll somehow disappear, or she'll wake up from this possible dream, but also...because he can barely stand as is. Ochako doesn't want him to collapse, and hurt himself, so she hesitates, looking conflicted, but sighs and relents with a quiet nod.]
...Okay. Take your time, don't--... [Don't push push yourself is what she wants to say, but just shakes her head. He knows.] Thanks...and sorry.
[Another swift kiss to his lips and Ochako lets him go, already feeling that emptiness and longing the moment he's out of sight, and she quickly sets about undressing and slipping into the bath, adding the scented oils, the bath salts, anything to keep her mind together in his absence, as brief as it may be. Ochako feels sick, and dizzy, and actually hovers by the sink for a minute in case she vomits, but thankfully nothing. Another second to take a few deep breaths, and she's sliding into the heated water with a long sigh.]
cw: description of burning
Sounds good on paper, and that's it. He can't even know that she's gone and thought something like that, but hearing her talk about Dabi is enough to have it lingering in the back of his mind. Which is fucking infuriating. The last thing that he wants is for Dabi to have ANY kind of damn power over him, but the trauma of what happened is way too much to just shove it all aside, as much as the explosive teen would like to. Would like to pretend that it was just a walk in the park, that he's fucking fine and it's not going to haunt the hell out of him. Fuck him. Katsuki hates him too, just for that alone. And maybe it shows, as he listens to her. Something in his gaze darkens a little, his jaw sets and though he actually makes the effort to not grind his teeth together, it's pretty obvious that he wants to.
Instead of responding right away, Katsuki just returns the kiss for as long as she holds it, and peels himself away when she allows. That gives him a short amount of time to try to temper some of the storm building inside of his chest.
Once he's back in the bathroom, he immediately gets to work in setting the incense burner on the counter. Popping the incense into it and then fishing a match out of the small box in hand, Katsuki finally breaks his silence, his tone holding an edge of anger that only touches on the surface of what he's feeling.] I fucking hate him too. I don't expect anyone to forgive that bastard, I know I won't--ever. But- [Striking the match, the flame comes to life and he falters just slightly. Swallows hard, to force back the surge of nausea as his red eyes are drawn to the small blue center of the tiny fire. There it is again, the flashes in his mind's eye, and shaking it off is way fucking easier said than done... but he does. Just a few seconds, and he's lowering it to the stick of incense and lighting it, before shaking out the match and dropping it like it disgusts him to hold it. Then he moves to brace his hands on the edge of the counter, voice lowering a little and head bowing in as he says the rest. Taking a moment to rip the fucking band aid off. And rest, for just a second... because just that walk to their bedroom took a lot out of Katsuki, and his journey from here to the bath is not over.] It's over. We're even, and that's as good as it's gonna get in a hellhole like this. I probably don't have to say it, but I'm laying that shit down to you guys anyway. I don't want any of you acting on it, no matter how fuckin' pissed you are. [Turning to glance over at Ochako in the bath, his frown is tight and serious.] I'm not gonna be the catalyst for war between us and them, and that's exactly what it'll turn into.
[With that said, the blond is pushing off of the counter and dropping his hands down to his belt to click it apart. He's listening for whatever she has to say about it, if anything at all, while focusing on removing the last of his clothes. A once over of his lower half tells him that the only evidence of his blow out fight with Dabi is on his arm, and that... maybe seems to ease a little bit of the tension he holds. Either way, he's turning (swaying, really, with how the vertigo makes his entire body feel heavy and unsteady) to face Ochako and the bathtub that he has to try to get himself into without eating shit. Paying absolutely no mind to the fact that they're both naked as the day they were born, in front of each other for the first time. He's got nothing to be ashamed of, and frankly it doesn't even really fucking matter right now.
At first, Katsuki makes it look just as easy as it should be. It fucking should be. But the temperature of the water; fine at first, very suddenly becomes overwhelming to the teen and he freezes at the point that his hip begin sinking down into it. Arms holding the sides of the tub tight and keeping him just so, his eyes go wide and his breath is caught in his chest. Very suddenly, his only awareness, the only thing he can hear or feel is the increasing wild, desperate beat-- thumpthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP-- of his heart in his chest and the overwhelming want to bail the fuck out as he's surrounded by hot once again.
Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! It's so fucking stupid. It's water. Hot water, and that's it. It's not fucking fire. It's not going to kill him. This is fucking ridiculous. It's a goddamn bath! It's pathetic and so fucking STUPID and he's got to get his fucking body to get in line with his logically thinking brain... but he's not entirely sure how to do that when the instant boost of adrenaline coursing through his veins is trying to dictate otherwise, all consuming.]
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Once Bakugou returns, Ochako's already submerged in the much larger, new tub. The new home was definitely a bit of an upgrade from their last, and the improved bath was one of the best things they got out of the move. Considering they're both still young and relatively on the shorter side (especially Ochako), the tub can fit them comfortably. Which is good, because Ochako is watching Bakugou carefully, leaning over the edge of the tub as the incense is lit and she starts to let its calming scent mingle with the oils and bath salts in curing her Corruption. It's not immediate, but it does help, and she feels more relaxed as the mingling armoas dance together in the space. Her eyes close, taking a moment to absorb his words with a scowl before opening them again.]
What could we even do at this point anyway? I don't like it, I feel like he didn't really...I dunno, learn anything by it... [Because Dabi will do this shit again. Maybe not to Bakugou, but to someone else. Nothing has changed.] But we can't kill him even if we wanted to, and we can't put him in prison, either...that kind of thing doesn't exist here. All I can hope and pray for is one of the Pthumerians takes away his stupid quirk and--
[It's not the click of his belt, or the drop of his pants, or even the sight of her boyfriend fully naked that makes Ochako pause - she's so uninterested in his sexually right now that barely even registers in her mind at all past a brief observation. No, it's the way he sways when he turns, the way he freezes up when he's lowering himself into the water, the way his pulse throbs in his neck and how heavy and fast his breathing is. Ochako can hear it, see it, almost feel the tension, and she moves on instinct alone. Holding his face in one hand, leaning in close to knock their foreheads together and make him look at her, see her, feel her. Focus.]
...I've got you.
[Those words alone should get his attention enough for her to ease him back into a calm. She just needs him to focus on her, not anything else.]
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Everything she's said isn't necessarily lost, but by the time he's gotten into the tub and crashed right into the absolutely unwanted panic attack? They're just a distant memory. He can't focus on anything except trying to catch his breath, trying to will his thundering heart to slow. To not fucking puke, right then and there, because not only is his goddamn head spinning like a fucked up carnival ride while his blood pounds furiously in his ears, his stomach wants more than anything to flip it's insides out. Only saving grace is probably that there's nothing in it to eject. He'd already done that when he washed up on shore.
Katsuki doesn't even hear Ochako say the words. It's her touch that gets his attention, pulls his wild gaze from the nowhere and nothingness it was stuck on to her face. 'I've got you', her lips form, and he reaches up to take her wrist with one shaky hand. The other stays clutching to the side of the tub, both held tight like they're life lines.
She's got him. He's here, with her, and Ochako's got him. He's not dying, he's not even burning. It's just some hot water, and that's it. Not even remotely close to what he felt that day in the square. A simple bath, with the person that loves him the most, and it's fucking fine. He's fine.
Swallowing hard to force back the surge of nausea, Katsuki follows that up with one long, measured but shaky intake of breath and slowly wills himself further into the water until he's sitting in full. He knows how much she hates it, but he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to... his jaw sets as it clenches and his brows knit center hard as he forces that same breath out in the same calculated way he'd taken it in. Rinse and repeat, slowly. Carefully. The panic in his eyes fades after a moment of sitting there like that, but the shame that follows and writes itself into the teen's features isn't any better. Reacting like that, fucking panicking like some scared little kid is so goddamn pathetic and weak in his mind--he's fucking weak, and he's...
...not going to do anything that he might've, before. Not gonna withdraw, not gonna put up walls or anything else. He's going to ride that truth out, right here and now, with Ochako right here by his side. Because he does trust her, trusts that she loves him no matter how far he falls, and that's all he's fucking got right now.
That, and-]
Fuck.
[Small, and a little boyish, the word almost helps bring him back to reality the rest of the way.]
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Ochako breathes slowly, rubbing her thumb along Bakugou's cheek, trying to get him to match her pace - slowly, in and out, just focus...breathe. She's got you, she's here. With a kiss to his lips and brushing of their noses together, Ochako settles into the heated water with her boyfriend at last, keeping her grip on his loose but there. Always there...so he knows he can reach out for her any time.]
I'm right here. I'm with you...
[She gets it. She sees the clench of his jaw, the stutter of his voice, and it breaks her heart. It hurts so much to see her dearest person struggle with his perceived weakness like this, because he's not. He's not weak, he's not pathetic, he's just going through something that anyone would find traumatic!! No human is without fear, not even All Might. Not even All Might was without flaw, without weakness. He's human, they both are, and to error is human.
Ochako looks at him, then down at herself, urging him to look, too. The Corruption is still there, claws at the tips of her fingers, cat-like pupils, and a slight point to her ears and incisors. They've both got their weaknesses, and they're both imperfect, but there's nothing that would change the way they perceive each other. Ochako closes her eyes, moving her hand from her boyfriend's cheek to hold the one not gripping the tub, linking their fingers together. She smiles, though it's strained, a squeaky giggle bubbly up wetly from her throat.]
Yeah...fuck, ehehe.
[That about sums all this up, huh? But they're at least together through it now.]
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Ochako's next words are heard. Her touch, from the hand on his face to the kiss she places on his lips, soothes. Her entire presence makes breathing more and more steadily so much easier... and it doesn't take long before the heaving drumming of his pulse is slowing. The adrenaline is dying down, and while Katsuki is still a little bit shaky as she takes his hand--still holds to the tub like it's holding him up, he's... better. More even. Enough to help intertwine their fingers together.
And a little bit confused, at first, because hearing his word come out of Ochako's mouth is like hearing a foreign fucking language. His brows knit and pop up high, mouth drops open in a silent 'hah?' and his head starts to tilt just slightly... before it clicks. Translates properly into his brain. ]
Tch! Y'damn dope. Laughing right after saying it makes it lose all of it's power, y'know. [Chiding, of course, but the incredibly rare smile that pulls his lips up on one side, a little strained but still there, says it all for him.
He needed that. Ochako always fucking knows just what he needs.
Katsuki shifts, moving his legs to stretch them out on either side of Ochako in the tub and scoots a little closer to her. Still leaving enough room
for Jesusto keep things from diving into awkward territory, but close enough to kiss her, firmly. Close enough to let his all too heavy head drop down to rest on one of her shoulders, when he does break it, eyes closing as his hand gives a light squeeze to hers.Sometimes he doesn't realize when he should say things versus acting, but Katsuki's emotional insight doesn't always fall short. He does know one thing that Ochako needs to hear, and he says it. Low, but certain. The something that she knows, but that Katsuki keeps close to his chest... not offering it often. Not because he doesn't feel it, but because he feels it so deeply and sometimes doesn't know what to do with it. That sacred set of words, that he never thought he'd ever feel, say or even have. The most important, the one she was robbed of hearing from him, right before he was killed.]
I fucking love you.
wrapping here!! ♥
And he's also teaching her to be bold, too. The ways she just acts without thought, without second-guessing herself or hesitating. He's made her feel strong, and confident in herself when in the past she never would be. Always comparing herself to someone else when the scope of her strength and growth has come far from the girl she used to be. She can float an entire bus without so much as a stomach cramp, and even a plane when she really went Plus Ultra. Always watching, always oberving and trying to keep her pace with the others, with him...it's helped Ochako grow, too.
Looking deep into his eyes, feeling the tension ebb from her boyfriend's taut muscles, Ochako also seems to relax a little as well. The stress she held over his wellbeing washes away as he settles into the water with her and they can finally just...be there. Together. They can finally exist in this space they've made with one another together and enjoy it. Her hand squeezes his gently, reassuring that she's there and she won't let him go until he needs his space again. Though considering how in love they are, and how they've been apart for what definitely is too long...they're probably not going to peel the other away any time soon.
And thank goodness, because seeing Bakugou's expression shift and turn into a scowl and a deeply confused and shocked look at her for dropping an F-Bomb right in the middle of their laps is the funniest thing she's beheld in a good, long while. It lightens the mood, and his tiny smile makes her heart sing in her chest, bubbling up to her throat as an airy giggle and laugh. The tension is released, and she feels...whole again. Her missing part is back. He's here.]
What power?! If it has any, it's all gone from how often you use it, you...you pottymouth!
[The laughter dies when he says those words to her, though her smile doesn't fade, and her expression softens with a sigh and s kiss to his cheek. He knows she loves him, she's said it before, and will say it as many times as he needs, and show it, too, but...Ochako coos and pulls his face down to hers for a slightly deeper kiss.]
I love you, too. Mmm...now turn around and let me wash your hair and back.
[Which she is reaching for a bottle of shampoo on his side of the tub. The sooner they get this done, the sooner they can rest, because heaven knows they both need it. Or at the very least, need to wake up next to each other again.]