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.
And every road you take, Will always lead you home
She isn't better, not by a longshot, but she's at least not confined to her--their room at the moment, though she still hasn't changed from her pajamas. She hasn't brushed her hair, or taken a bath. She just brushed her teeth, shoved some toast into her mouth, and meandered through the too big, too empty mouth, tidying everything but herself. It was something to do, to occupy her hands and her mind, otherwise she'd just lay in bed and hate everything. Hate everything because she ran out of tears to cry the first several hours after she learned about his death from his Omen. Poor Dinomight, her dearest stuffed toy, took the brunt of all those tears, soaking them up as she held him to her chest and sobbed all through the first night. The bed was so big. So cold...
Blinking at the three hard knocks to their door, because she doesn't recognize anyone who knocks like that, Ochako narrows her eyes and approaches slowly. Iida's not home, he's out...probably doing delivery work with his quirk, or helping at the orphanage. And Ochako's not expecting company...unless one of her friends decided to stop by and check in on her. She's, uh...hoping not, actually. The young teen really isn't in the mood to be sociable right now, honestly. But she has to answer the door, though she does it slowly, trying to smooth down her messy hair and smooth the wrinkles out of the oversized shirt she's wearing.
His shirt - the one with the skull - because Ochako just needed that little bit of comfort through those long nights. It smelled like him, and made it easier to actually fall asleep. Opening the door a peek, she actually makes a noise of displeasure at the sun she's denied seeing for so long.]
Mmh...yeah? Hullo?
We've come a long way from where we began, Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again~
He's about to write it off and slide down the length of the outside jut of doorframe to sit there when he hears the lock turning. Sees the knob move... and it's cracked open. Doesn't get to see those big brown eyes of hers, because they're squinting nearly shut as she's basically blinded by the light. But he does see the rest of her through the small crack in the door. Hears her. And her voice. Her tone, because Katsuki fucking knows her, is that fake polite... like she's thinking 'god fucking dammit' on the inside, but presenting something else and sometimes, if not directed at him, it's something that would normally almost make him smile. If no one was looking, anyway. But right now he can't feel that way. Not when she looks about as disheveled as he feels. Not when she's wearing his fucking shirt, and he knows exactly why.
When she realizes it's him, it's gonna be fucking floodgates. He's certain of that. Katsuki was the one who got off easy here, in ways. Sure, burning to death is horrific and absolutely the worst fucking thing he's ever been through physically, but he didn't have to sit here in the aftermath. Waiting, wondering, regretting shit. Ain't no fucking way that Ochako would let something like this just roll off of her shoulders like it didn't matter, death is still death even if it's not permanent. It still fucking hurts. And so he's ready for it, ready for her and whatever she needs out of him. So he shifts out of his lean, bringing his hand up to hold the frame and keep himself steady... and responds. Trying to keep it as light as he can while full well knowing how heavy their reunion is going to be, his voice is low and almost teasing. But frankly, he's too fucking tired and his heart hurts too much to even do that much.]
You gonna fuckin' let me in or what, you little shit?
ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
Thankfully, she knows - she takes one look at him and she knows it's really Bakugou. It's her boyfriend and he's back. He's finally back and she wants to both beat him over the head and pull him into her arms and hold him there forever. Her face screws up, unable to hold back the false calm she put on for any possible visitor, and her mask shatters before his eyes, eyes misting over and face becoming hot with...anger? Upset? Maybe both. Definitely both.]
You...y-you jerk!! [She hiccups, fists balled up as if she was going to lob a punch right at his face. But she doesn't, and instead grabs fistfuls of Bakugou's suit jacket to tug him full into her awaiting arms.] You just sh-show up, and...a-and say that, a-after I waited for y-y-you to come back?! Idiot!! Bakugou, you're s-such an idiot!
[Ochako sobs, burying her face into his chest as she holds him, breathes him in, and almost collapses into him. He's back, he's here, he's home...]
I missed you so much...
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And for his shitty line, apparently. The way that Ochako's expression just breaks and turns to that tear filled, upset is worse than any punch he could receive in the next few seconds. It fucking hurts to see, and just amplifies all of the regret and apology he feels for her in his entire being.
But that's not at all what happens. Accepting of his fate or not, Katsuki does appreciate the fact that Ochako chooses not to actually hit him in this moment. He'd probably drop like a sack of bricks in his current condition. Hell, even being pulled forward into that embrace is a serious risk to them both... but there's no way for her to know that and he ain't fucking telling. Aside from the way that he stumbles forward clumsily, bumps into her... or the telling tensing of all of his muscles that indicates that he's flexing fucking everything he can to stop them both from toppling over with the motion and the weight of her body clinging to his. He dares to release his hold on the frame, so that he can wind both arms around her securely, and dips his head down to press his nose and mouth to the top of her head. Katsuki is doing the same thing, breathing in her scent, savoring the feeling of her arms around him... it's a few seconds of that before he speaks against her hair.]
I know. [That he's an idiot--for so many things, that his line sucked ass... that she's missed him. His tone is apologetic, but he can't quite bring himself to say the words just yet. Having his girlfriend sob against his chest is hard enough, and his stomach and heart alike can't handle having to beat down his pride and say that he's sorry again. Because he's shitty. And he's always fucking finding himself apologizing to Ochako, for one thing or another. He isn't cut out for this stuff, and he honest to fucking god doesn't understand how or why she loves him enough to put up with it.
So he settles on saying it again, more firmly, with his arms tightening around her to press her into him more. Even as he struggles to keep them both upright.] I know. I'm a fucking asshole.
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Trench doesn't offer than reprieve. That distraction. That necessity. Ochako did what she could, but in the end she closed herself off.
She notices his falter, how her boyfriend wobbles precariously into her and tenses to prevent actually falling over, and that's...very telling. He doesn't have to say anthing for Ochako to notice that Bakugou is probably in need of some serious rest and relaxation. But she does also enjoy the closeness, the arms locking around her to hold and calm her shaking body, the ease her tears away with his presence alone. She lets more and more fall onto the dark fabric of his costume, her breaths short and raspy and letting her body speak volumes in the silence spanning between them. Ochako's throat is tight, she doesn't trust herself to speak without sobbing like an infant, so she just lets her tears soak into his shirt and holds on, allowing herself to be held as well. Just enough to be eased into a calm enough to help him get more comfortable, too.
But Bakugou speaks, and she sniffles, opening her eyes to stare at nothing inparticular, the two black dots that their costumes share, what with being made by the same designer. She finally manages a breathy chuckle, just one, and exhales a long breath.]
Just sometimes. [Is he a 'fucking asshole'. Pressing her cheek over one of his pectorals, Ochako rubs her hands soothingly along Bakugou's back, keeping one finger raised for a few seconds before humming softly.] ...Can I help you inside more? I can run a bath for you, or do you just wanna sleep?
[Because she wants to help, but also knows Bakugou isn't as apt to accept it. He's come a long way, yes, but he still has his pride to maintain, and this was...a massive blow. Ochako extends the olive branch, and leaves the choice up to him.]
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Majority of the time. [There's light amusement beneath his obvious exhaustion, when Katsuki corrects her. The feeling of her hands on his back is nice--soothing, just as she intends it to be and somehow, despite the fact that he has very little recollection of anything aside from a short lived squid life... he finds that he's missed it. Missed her. Which prompts him to tip his head down again while Ochako's cheek is still pressed to his chest, taking in the scent of... well. Just Ochako. Only a faint trace of her sweet shampoo he's grown accustomed to, which is telling in and of itself. His girlfriend bathes pretty much daily and that disheveled appearance of hers, that wasn't lost on the explosive teen, easily tells the rest of the story for him.
She hasn't been taking care of herself. Not well, not outside of whatever bare minimum. That sinking realization... it fucking sucks. It makes his heart feel like it weighs tons, especially because... there she fucking goes. Doing what Ochako does, every damn time something has gone wrong for them. Being selfless, trying to help him, when he's gone and put the worst kind of heartache into her world. Fuck. Katsuki swallows hard, the hand on the back of her head sliding down to the back of her neck, and then forward to her shoulder where he gently nudges, making enough room between them so he can look her in the face.
He hasn't said the words yet but it's written there, clear as day, in the doleful frown on his face as he searches hers for a moment of silence. I'm sorry.
All he wanted, as soon as he realized and remembered why the fuck he was washing up on that shore in the first place, was to come home and be with Ochako while he licked his invisible wounds. It was the motivating thing to keep himself putting one foot in front of the other despite having no fucking energy to even want to move. And now, he just wants it even more. Except it's not just about his own wounds. More than anything, he wants to do everything he can to eradicate the haunted air that surrounds the person he loves. Only time can do that, but this? This is where he fucking starts. By taking her hand when she offers it... and picking her up with the damn hold he's got on her again. ]
Both. [Katsuki says a little hoarsely, finally, blond brows knitting together harder as he tips his head down to press his forehead to Ochako's.] With you.
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His little quip about himself gets a small upturn of her lips, because she can't deny he is right, but Ochako doesn't say anything, either. She's far too content to simply bask in his presence for as long as she can, or as long as her boyfriend can hold himself there with her. Which, considering her question earlier, may not exactly be all that long. But Ochako don't just whisk him away like half of her wants to - she knows Bakugou's pride is important, and she'll only offer aid in small bursts, letting him accept it as graciously as he allows himself. This has got to be a lot for him, too, so...she's quiet, just supporting him gently with both her presence and with her hands poised to activate her quirk on him to keep his upright, or take him to where he wants to go effortlessly.
Being pushed back, Ochako looks up as space is put between them, and Bakugou can finally see her face fully. She's paler than normal, looks like she hasn't slept well from the dark lines around her eyes, and there's obvious signs that she's been fighting back some Corruption. An excuse for her lack or appetite, maybe...or at least one she's tried to peddle off as an excuse for her unwillingness to eat properly, because of her grief and lack of appetite. Knowing she's not in the best shape to look at, Ochako averts her gaze a bit, looking a bit embarrassed, even shameful, but glances back again when he speaks.
A meek smile spreads on her lips at the contact, leans her forehead against her boyfriend's and closing her eyes. Once they open again, she cradles his face with her hands and kisses his lips gently, tracing the outline of the blond's jaw with a thumb. A bath, and then some much needed rest...together.]
Okay. ...Bath first.
[And and her hands come down to grasp his, squeezing their joined hands together, Ochako leads her boyfriend very carefully to the bathroom where they can undress and start their soak. Oddly enough, Ochako doesn't even feel embarrassed about it, either. Bakugou needs her, and she needs him, too. The idea of anything other than caring for and being with each other sensually is so far from her mind at the time, that she doesn't even amuse the thought of shame or embarrassment.]
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Instead, he just kisses her back, eyes closing and arms pressing her into him. Savors the feeling of her warm lips against his, that thumb brushing against the line of his jaw, while trying not to sway too obviously with his unending, aggravating vertigo.
Then it's over, and she's pulling away. Taking his hand to lead him into their home.]
Hold up. [He tugs against her pull, just long enough to grab the support item he'd dropped onto the porch while he was waiting, shut the door behind them. The gauntlet gets dropped right back down to the floor, and Katsuki uses a wall to keep himself from eating shit while he holds her hand and uses the other to get himself out of his wet boots. Because he's not about to fucking track dirt through their house, no matter how appealing a hot bath and a warm bed sound to him. He's not an animal, after all.
When those tasks are complete though, the blond does let himself get pulled along through the house to the bathroom. And likewise... there isn't even a second thought to what they're actually about to do. Maybe it'll change a little, once she starts to mirror him in taking off her clothing, Katsuki has definitely never seen Ochako naked before, but with how shitty he feels? Pretty damn sure he ain't getting it up, for anything, and that's the only thing he could possibly end up feeling fucking weird about in this.
While she gets started on filling the tub, the explosive teen leans against the countertop in front of the mirror and quietly starts to work the different pieces to his costume off. Unclipping his knee pads, taking the brace off of his shoulders. The guards on his forearms, followed by his gloves. By the time it's good and running, and she's possibly there to try to help him or start on her own clothing, Katsuki has gotten the skin tight, long sleeved top of his costume off entirely. She'll find him glaring down at his right forearm with a look of complete and utter hatred at the healed burn scar there. A fucking handprint right there, wrapped around it with the finger imprints just
below his elbow, clear as day.]
Tch!
[That fucking patchwork piece of shit. Marking him up like this, for absolutely nothing at all. It wasn't even a fight to be proud of, completely senseless, and now he gets to walk around displaying the evidence of that shit. He'd consider the prospect of killing Dabi again, if not for the fact that it serves no purpose and they've called it even.]
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Which is why a bath and some rest, just being together again, is so important. It's the first tiny step toward that recovery process, and Ochako is eager to get back into that much needed normalcy again. It's partly why she skids to a halt when Bakugou tugs her back for that brief second, just to remove his boots and set down his gauntlets in what equates to a genkan in a...more western-style house (a mud room, probably). She can't help the smile that tugs up at her lips, or the tiny chuckle, because it's so him. He's always been so tidy, and so...weirdly good about their own little house rules. It's cute, and Ochako almost gets misty-eyed at just how much she missed those precious moments, those little things he does and how, heh...quirky they can be. She missed him. Ochako missed her boyfriend so, so much. Loves him so much more than she can possibly say.
Finally, they're on their way to the bathroom - thankfully a larger one than they had before, with a tub that can actually accommodate them both at the same time comfortably. They're not exactly behemoths, but still...that larger space is nice nonetheless. Ochako is hanging up fresh towels for them on the towel-rack, then busies herself with tugging off the shirt she stole from his wardrobe in one fell swoop, just in her sports bra as she tosses the garment into a corner with the growing pile of clothing. It's normal for them to clean themselves with soap and water first before soaking, but this isn't an Asian style bath, so...it'll be fine. Ochako has plenty of salts and oils she can add to the water to help them get the grit off. In fact, she's adding some as the blond sees the mark on his skin, and turns suddenly toward him.]
Mm? What is it?
[A sharp click like that is never good when it's Bakugou. Ochako looks over and she freezes upon seeing the mark - the handprint on his arm and she has to hold her breath and press her lips together to keep a literal growl from escaping her mouth. It's scary, just how quickly her eyes turn yellow, the pupils tiny, black slits, and how her nails extend like long, hooked claws. Ochako goes silent, tense, and just breathes in and out sharply. ...Right. A memento. Because Trench loves to play those terrible little games.
Hilariously enough, Ochako actually does something that Bakugou might recognize, with how her jaw tenses and flexes. She's clenching her jaw, grinding her teeth, trying to will herself not to let herself get too pent up and sink into Corruption. Because she hates it. She hates how her boyfriend's skin will forever be marred with the touch of his killer. It makes her mind turn to dark, dangerous places. She really hates Dabi. Hates him so very much, and will never, ever forgive him now. If there's one person she would sooner see die, it'd be him. No mercy, no forgiveness, no justice. Ochako wants to save everyone, but...she can't deny she has no desire to reach out to that creature ever again.
Let him fester.]
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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.]