Actions

Work Header

bloodred (how to train your viking)

Work Text:

The sky was on fire.

 

Painted in a furious ember-red that took over the soft hue the sky and replaced it with fire. It was burning.

 

Houses fell to the floor in a fury of orange,  the wind only needed to provide a gentle push before they came crumbling down like a house of cards. Wildfire spread across the village like a virus, destroying everything in its path. This was war. Raging, white-hot, flaming red war. The creatures of the clouds let out a roar that shook throughout the skies as their wings cut through the sky like paper. The yelling was drowned out by the pained battle cry of a young viking, his axe thrust high into the air.

 

Without an inch of fear, Bakugou tore his way through his screaming people, axe in one hand and an arched shield in the other. He jumped into the air, riding the smoke-ridden winds as he threw a hand grenade in the direction of the approaching enemy. A huge blast erupted, powerful enough to blast back the upcoming boats, and Bakugou grinned.

 

Armour clung to his chest, followed by tight braces on his wrists, cupping the thick muscle there. Bakugou wore baggy pants that met tight metal shoes that climbed up his calf, topped with fur. Weapons hung from Bakugou's waist like prizes, and resting atop his shoulders was a fur cape that flew down his back and coated him in a powerful crimson.

 

Small grenades hung off his belt, and Bakugou reached for his two-sided blade. The viking opened one side and swung, releasing a line of nitroglycerin-like liquid. The enemy clan laughed, before Bakugou opened the other side, the sword ablaze. He swung again, and the moment the fire touched the liquid, it exploded in a fury of red. The colour of blood. The colour of power. The colour of fire.

 

The colour of the battle-ready viking.

 

Adrenaline raced through his blood like fire, his heart beating to a battle-hungry rhythm that ricocheted throughout his body with each step he took. Above Bakugou's head lay the home of a thousand enemies, each waiting to go down with the final blow of his axe and spark of his palm. Lifting his axe, he prepared to attack before hearing the cry of his people, and the shout of warning for a new foe.

 

The viking craned his head up quickly, his intense claret pupils dilating and heartbeat increasing as he looked for the source of the cry. And there it was. Hidden under the depths of the painted sky, was the legendary Bloodflame. Barely even visible. It had worked. The heat of the battle caused the most powerful dragon to finally emerge from the shadows. Bakugou grinned, and moved his legs to grab a calloused bow and arrow, stray wood splintering his skin but he couldn't even feel the pain. All he could see was his goal. His target. His enemy.

The viking was chief of the Bakugou clan after his parents stepped down, and he dominated it, transforming the clan to into powerful warriors and protectors, built it into one of the strongest clans in their village. Bakugou led them all, proudly, fighting front and centre with that venomous smile on his face, eyes dilating with excitement, fixating on his goal.

 

His clan adored him. Bakugou's brutal attitude was everything a viking clan aspired to be, and having the teen front and centre, taking down enemies as if they were nothing, was extremely admirable. He was silently titled the top viking in his clan, and his chest swelled with pride. Bakugou had known that for a while, that he was the strongest. But other people acknowledging his strength burst his ego. His favourite axe yet again clung to his back, waiting for battle, finally in use.

 

Bakugou weaved through the chaos of the attack, holding up his bow and arrow, searching the ash blue skies like a hunter hungry for prey. He knew it was there. He knew it was, he heard it, he saw it. In a flash of light, a spark of red bloomed in the sky, and fast as lighting, Bakugou whipped his head around and released his arrow, pulling back to watch the result. He heard a cry of pain and saw the red drop, and his mouth stretched into a smile. He shot it. He shot the Bloodflame. It was his now, he could finally say he took down the most powerful dragon in all the land while standing tall.

 

Bakugou's entire body swelled with an overwhelming sense of pride, and his face was dripping with a malicious grin at the sight of the falling foe. The dragon attempted to fly, but failed and was sent down to the arms of the cruel earth, taken yet again by gravity's cage that it was once set free of. The dragon had fallen, painting the sky red with its blood. The young viking thrust his axe into the air, letting out a pride-filled cry. The eyes of his fellow vikings were glued to the sky in awe, before focusing their gaze on the young blond. Bakugou smirked. Their faces were painted with every emotion- Envy, admiration, pride, frustration. Weaklings. None of that mattered. He'd just taken down the enemy of the skies, the one creature thought to be indestructible. The vikings then ran towards him, cheering in a frenzy of cries and slaps on the back.

 

"BAKUGOU SHOT DOWN A BLOODFLAME!”

 

“YOUNG BAKUGOU JUST SHOT DOWN A BLOODFLAME!"

 

Bakugou let out a proud laugh, then turned on his heel and bolted in the direction of the falling flame. He kept that bloodthirsty grin, his expression sadistic with excitement. His feet seemed to be moving faster than his body, his stomach clenching from the build-up of constant movement, his weapons clinking like windchimes at his waist. He felt like a child, a child who’d just won a prize. And by God he had, the wings of the Flame would be his trophy, the skin of the Flame would be his cloak.

 


 

Bakugou reached the site of the fallen dragon, and his grin widened. His pupils were wide, chest rising and falling with each excited breath he inhaled, and the dragon seemed so close, yet so far.

 

Bakugou Katsuki. The first ever viking, the youngest ever viking, in all of history to shoot down a Bloodflame.

 

The blond's breath quickened as his sight met his wounded enemy, his grin overtaking more of his face as his eyebrows lowered. The dragon was sprawled across the shore of crystal-blue beach waters, its head held down with a pained expression staining its face. The rumours were true.

 

The dragon was the colour of fire. Scales that caught the light and shone red-orange-yellow under the blazing heat. The dragon's wound was open, its life source poisoning the beautiful colour of the transparent waves with red. Crimson, carmine red that painted the dragon's lower body, that painted the ever-so-perfect sand, staining all a dark grinning red. The viking grinned and released his axe from around his waist, holding it up to the dragon's neck with complete and utter pride.

 

"How pathetic. Surely even the mighty Bloodflame would put up a fight," Bakugou drawled, disappointed, placing an armoured foot atop the dragon's head. The dragon was taking painful, wheezing breaths through its nose, and upon one of its closed eyes was a small scar. The viking almost felt bad. How weak must it be to go down so quickly?

 

Wait! Don’t kill me, please, not yet!

 

Bakugou paused, his eyes going wide.

 

What the fuck? ”  Bakugou was sure he heard something. He heard this...this thing... talk to him. Bakugou stepped closer, pulling his axe to properly look at the damn dragon again. “Did you just...did you just fucking talk to me?!”

 

The dragon shot him almost an unamused expression, and Bakugou swore he was losing his mind.

 

Did you not hear properly or something?

Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he was completely lost for words. What the fuck. What the fuck.  

 

“How the fuck did you do that?!" Bakugou yelled, his breath speeding up rapidly and the hand clutching his weapon was trembling. His dilating eyes snatched onto the dragon, who had his head tilted up at him, huffing impatiently.

Wow, you vikings are strong, but really stupid too, huh?

 

Bakugou was in complete shock, and almost wanted to slay the dragon right then and there. But right now, all that Bakugou could think about was that this dragon just talked to him. Invaded his mind and spoke as if it were nothing.

 

Bakugou clenched his free hand into a tight fist, digging his nails into the soft skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood. He had been told his entire life that dragons were disgusting creatures who craved the blood of humans. That they were creatures of war.  The villains of the skies, hiding right above their heads. All his life Bakugou had only seen the never-ending battle between his people and the foes he's grown up to hate.

 

And as much as the viking hated to admit it, seeing the so-called bloodthirsty beast looking at him like a goddamn puppy, innocent eyes and expressive features. The expression was so genuine, it almost looked human. It was fucking scary.

Okay, look, I don’t have time for this! You need to go, now!

The dragon was now trying to awkwardly stand, and Bakugou saw its features twist in pain before it seemed to notice another sound, and its head turned out to look at the open waters.

 

“Hah?! Why the fuck should I listen to you, you fucking lizard! I came here to kill you, so just shut up already!”

The dragon let out an annoyed huff again. You can kill me when this finishes, okay?! But you kind of have to be alive to do that!

Bakugou stopped again, now suspicious. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?”

 

The dragon looked back out to the water again, and its eyes went wide. Bakugou scowled again and stepped forward, before he heard a faint horn in the distance.

Hear that? That’s The League! They’re going to attack your clan, Bakugou!

Complete shock took over Bakugou’s expression. The League. This clan was completely ruthless, known for leaving no one alive after their attacks, except for hostages, of course. The League was the strongest viking clan, enemy to all and ruthless, killing everyone and everything. Once they attacked, it meant death. The leader of the clan, a grey-blue haired man named Shigaraki was the most well known. For each enemy he defeated, he cut off their hand and wore it on his body like a trophy. They were a force to be reckoned with, to say the least. The only clans they hadn’t wiped out after attacking were the Might Clan and the Riot Clan. Fuck. If they were attacking, Bakugou was in trouble.

Look, I don’t mean any harm, Bakugou!  I don’t want to hurt anyone, I want to do the opposite! I came here to warn you before you went and shot me down. Although that is to be expected, I’m a dragon and-No, I’m rambling! Just leave and go to your clan! I’ll stay, then you can kill me or whatever.

 

“First of all, how the fuck do you know my name? Have you forgotten that we’re enemies, you idiot! I’m going to kill you! How do I know you’re not fucking with me?! Fuck you, say your last words now, moron.”

 

The dragon lifted its head, weak. It blinked slowly, red eyes centring onto Bakugou and giving him what seemed to be an unamused glare. Bakugou growled, pressing his axe into the dragon’s neck as a warning.

 

Bakugou, for god’s sake...  Can you stop being stubborn and listen to me?

 

“You don’t fucking get to talk to me like that, you goddamn lizard. You’re dead-”

Suddenly, the sound of a horn boomed through the forest, shaking the trees and Bakugou's eyes went wide.  

 

He froze. He recognised that horn.

 

Bakugou! The League have invaded! They've already passed the horizons! I was trying to warn you, goddamnit!

 

Bakugou’s axe lowered, his breathing starting to get faster, and he looked up. Approaching the shore were a group of ships, vikings across each one with a lit torch in hand. The same symbol was burned onto each one, the symbol of The League.

 

They were getting closer. Eights boats toward his village. His clan was strong enough to take them down, but there were two boats directly coming for him. There was no one else around. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bakugou growled, taking his axe in one hand and one of his swords into the other. Another horn boomed, echoing across the island.

 

“I ain’t done with you yet, Bloodflame,” Bakugou hissed, preparing to run forward before an arrow flew out from the ship. Bakugou froze, unable to move, his heartbeat climbing into his throat and watching as a sharpened, tied arrow flew directly towards his heart- I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’M GOING TO DIE!

 

But the arrow never reached his skin. Instead, the Bloodflame growled, lifting him up by the leg and tossing him aside into the nearby water. Bakugou looked up, absolutely furious, and the Bloodflame turned to face him, his eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Water coated Bakugou’s body and clung to his armour disgustingly, and the viking's breath began to quicken, each breath inhales causing more rage to pulsate throughout his body. Bakugou tried to get up, but the Bloodflame shot him a glare.

 

Stay there, Bakugou. Don’t move.

 

How dare he. How goddamn DARE he. The viking's vision became blurred with pure rage, and oh, he would enjoy taking this dragon apart slowly. Bakugou raised himself up to stand, droplets of water travelling down his skin as he raised his axe.

 

"You're dead , goddamn Bloodflame!" Bakugou raged, before another booming horn sounded from the distance. The viking turned his head, eyes wide. He recognised that horn, and felt his stomach turn and hated himself for being frightened. Boats raided the water and stormed towards the viking, ships raging with clans in search of blood. Bakugou felt his breath quicken, his muscles frozen.

 

He thought back to the arrow that had shot out from one ship and aim for his heart. And it would've hit if it wasn't for the spit of fire that turned the weapon to dust.

 

Bakugou sharply turned his head to the side to see the dragon firmly standing, confidence and anger both apparent on the creature's face. Another arrow skimmed his chest, and the viking yelled out as the metal chipped his armour. A bomb exploded next to his side, ashes soaring into the viking's lungs, causing him to painfully cough. Smoke blinded his vision and he instinctively shut his eyes tight, arms going limp.

 

The intense explosions and the daunting melody of battle rippled through his ear, until all sounds were interrupted by the roar of the Bloodflame. The sound was booming. Powerful. Shook your bones to the core and sent fear travelling through your veins. The young viking attempted to crane his head but the muscles in his neck disobeyed him.

 

Eventually, the sounds fled and all that could be heard was the heaving breaths of the dragon. One boat was completely shut down, the other retreated out of pure terror. Emotions flooded through the viking's brain as he processed what just happened.

 

That scaled fuck just saved his life.

 

Bakugou rose to his feet and reached the dragon, holding up his axe, eyes raging.

 

"What the fuck was that?!" He bellowed, pupils dilating. "Why in Thor's fuck did you save me, huh?! Do I look weak to you? I was going to kill you, you hear me?! Kill you! Why the fuck did you save me?"

 

“I’m fucking speaking to you, you dumb piece of shit! Why the fuck did you do that?!" Bakugou yelled, carmine eyes going wide as his pupils dilated. His breaths sped up rapidly and the hand clutching his weapon was trembling. His dilating eyes snatched onto the dragon, who had his head gently nuzzling into the sand, waiting for the blow that would snatch his life.

 

The dragon let out a noise that sounded almost like a snort. Bakugou, there’s a reason I know about your clan. About you. I’ve watched you for so long, and you’ve got so much potential. I can tell that you’re going to do something amazing. I couldn’t let them kill you.

 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, and the grip on his axe loosened, before he shook his head and raged, pressing the blade of the weapon to the dragon’s neck. He felt like he was about to explode, rage filling every inch of his body. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t supposed to be what happened. “You weren’t supposed to, you moron! I’m a viking , have you forgotten that?! We kill you! My clan kills you! Why the fuck are you looking at me like I’m fucking Thor?! I could kill you! I’m going to kill you!”

 

The Bloodflame’s expression softened, and it rested its head into the sand, almost content. Giving up. You wanted to kill me, didn’t you? What are you waiting for? It’ll make your clan proud, their top viking taking down a Bloodflame. It’ll bring honour to you. And it’d be an honour to die at your hand, Bakugou.

 

Bakugou clenched his free hand into a tight fist, digging his nails into the soft skin of his palm hard enough to dent. He had been told his entire life that dragons were disgusting creatures who craved the blood of humans. That they were creatures of war. All his life Bakugou had only seen the never-ending battle between his people and the foes he's grown up to hate. And as much as the viking hated to admit it, seeing the so-called bloodthirsty beast giving up, waiting for Bakugou to kill him as if it had lost all hope… the expression was so genuine, it almost looked human.

 

Bakugou clenched his eyes tight and remembered why he came here. The viking kills the dragon. The viking, kills the dragon. That's how it is. He continued to avoid the helpless stare of the dragon, and pressed the blade of his weapon threateningly above the creature's skin. But in the midst of drawing the blade down, the viking's eyes caught the dragon. Its eyes were closed, softly, and looked a sad kind of peaceful, as if it knew this would happen. Something pulled at Bakugou's heart and during the collision of the blade and the dragon's neck, he threw the axe into the ground.

 

"You-.....you goddamn saved my life. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind." He hissed, heartbeat pounding louder than ever but feeling a sense of relief in his chest.

 

Thank you.

 

Bakugou didn't look back. He turned, focusing his gaze on his clan in the distance and made his way back. His fists were clenched tighter, too tight, and his jaw and teeth soon joined, leaving the viking completely and utterly tense. Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed together and lowered over his eyes, his face following into a familiar scowl.

 

As he was walking away, away from the Bloodflame, this strange weight overtook him. The weight of something he'd never experienced before.

 

Guilt.

 

It was wrong, he knew that now. Bakugou's people have been killing dragons for years, Bakugou had been killing dragons for years, but now it felt different. If his clan knew about Bakugou's choice, he would be kicked out, no question.

 

No one will ever find out. Ever.

 

As soon as Bakugou arrived at the middle of the grand hall, face stained with a forced pride, the vikings erupted. They all praised him, saying how he’d single-handedly taken down two viking ships, cheering and whooping and offering endless praise. Cups were met with thunks, drinks were raised to the viking. He was offered promotions, money, everything anyone would've wanted. But the entire time all he could think about was that stupid dragon, speaking into his brain and waiting for him to end his suffering.


 

 

My soul is burning,
I've got a flame going high.
You couldn't put out this fire,
Even with your cold stare of eyes.

My heart is aching because I'm hungry for more
I dress my eyes up in calm rage,
Even if I'm knocked to a floor.


 

After the news had died down and the viking had some spare time, he found himself going to the beach where the Bloodflame's blood once stained. Bakugou didn't even know why. But as he saw the dragon still there, helpless as ever, his chest tightened and he pinned his gaze to the floor. "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

 

The Bloodflame was just..lying there. Close to the shore, absolutely desperate, helpless. Even the brilliant red of its scales seemed to be less vibrant. Its eyes looked almost glazed over, and it blinked for a moment, before its eyes slid over to Bakugou and it lifted its head.

 

I can't fly.

 

"Of goddamn course you can't. And you call yourself a Bloodflame." Bakugou spat, staring down at the dragon, still lying here for days after days under the merciless sun. As well as being in pain, the dragon was clearly malnourished, rib cage present with minimal layers clinging to the dragon's bones. It looked so weak. So helpless. Bakugou almost wanted to put it out of its misery, but feeling the sad gaze prod at him when he held the axe that day never left his mind. The intense emotion, it almost felt, human.

 

You pierced my wing, moron. Can’t exactly fly with a pierced wing.

 

Bakugou threw his head to the side and clicked his tongue, mentally thinking of what the hell to do with this dragon. The best option would be to kill it, but the viking knew he couldn't do that. The next would be to leave it here, to rot on the sunburnt beach and get eaten alive by the intense heat unless something else got to him first. The other options were risky, too risky.

 

But at this point, Bakugou didn't give a shit.

 

The viking reached behind his back and pulled out his arrows, and the dragon's gaze turned fearful as the weapon was pointed between his scarlet eyes. As the arrow was released, Bakugou moved the direction of the target and severed a stray sea creature near the shore. Without a word, he walked over to the dead sea animal and removed his arrow and throwing the food to the dragon's direction. "Eat." He ordered, pinning his gaze onto the suffering dragon.

 

The Bloodflame whipped around, eyes dilating on the Bakugou, and began to walk towards him. It was just that much more evidence about how hungry he was. It licked his teeth at the smell, forked tongue flicking over sharp teeth, but it didn’t take the food. It glanced up at Bakugou, almost as if it automatically assumed that Bakugou was going to take the creature for himself.

 

But when Bakugou threw the body over to it and ordered it to eat it, the dragon stared in awe. It gulped, staring bug-eyed at the delicious fresh kill that was sprawled out in front of him.

 

It didn't need to be told twice, and it released his fangs and began to wolf down the food, eating every part of it, bones and all, desperate. Bakugou was slightly shocked, but assumed it was to be expected of a starving creature.

 

From the amount of time it took to finish the food, it wouldn’t even have had time to taste it. Fuck. The thing really was starving. When it did finish, it looked up to Bakugou once more and sat down like an expectant puppy. Its eyes were huge and waiting, a quick tongue swiping over his lips to clean off the blood.

 

Bakugou clicked his tongue in annoyance. He's a viking , he's supposed to kill you, so why are you behaving like this? Stupid damn reptile.

 

Bakugou didn't know why he shot another fish. It was stupid, really. But seeing the dragon's face light up made the guilt lessen, so he turned and shot another fish until there was enough to satisfy the dragon's stomach. The viking then carefully placed the food down in front of the dragon yet again. "Eat." He ordered again, and again, the dragon didn't have to think twice.

 

Bakugou studied the dragon's face. He was still perplexed. He had so many damn questions he wanted to ask, now that he knew this thing could talk. Bakugou waited until the dragon was almost done, before slamming his fist down to get its attention."Why the fuck did you save me?" Bakugou asked, his gaze narrowing.

 

Before the dragon could even reply, he began to throw more questions, letting out every fucking confused thought that’d crossed his mind.

 

"Who are you? How the fuck can you talk to me like that?? Why the fuck won’t you fight me? Have you even fucking fought in the first place? How many vikings like that have you fought and won? Why are you so much fucking more annoying than I expected?"

 

Well, for why did I save you? I told you already! I didn’t want them to kill you!   Bakugou stiffened, looking away with a click of his tongue. I felt like they were intruders... and since my home is somewhere on this island, I'd better protect it if I wanted to keep everything the same. Plus, like I said, I'd prefer to be killed by you than anyone else, and it just...

 

The echoing speech in Bakugou's mind paused, as if to take a breath. I don't know why, but it just came over me, you know? Like, why did you decide not to kill me? Something like that, I guess.

 

Bakugou studied the dragon with an unreadable expression. This dragon...this creature, was talking to him like anyone else. He was perplexed. Even as being a viking, there was so much he didn't know about his so-called mortal enemies. The basic information about dragons was solely for fighting purposes; they never really found out the important information. Maybe it was good that Bakugou let it live.

 

“For a big-ass dragon, you’re seriously a moron.” Bakugou snapped, then looked at the ground. “They were intruders, but so was I. And I was going to kill you too, I shot you in the first place. So that doesn't make any goddamn sense. The only fucking reason I didn’t kill you was because you pulled a damn stunt like that. Now I don’t have that hanging over my head.”

 

That makes sense, I guess. It stopped talking for a moment, as if to think about what he was going to put into Bakugou's mind. Well, my name is Kirishima Eijirou! I can talk to you through telepathy. It's a power that I possess due to... circumstances. Though, it doesn’t work with many vikings? It’s kind of weird.

 

"Telepathy. That's so goddamn strange...." Bakugou whispered under his breath. Telepathy was unheard of, no viking had ever come across it.

Bakugou snorted. “You’re a damn dragon, and you have a name? Thought it’d just be ‘Bloodflame’.”

 

Bloodflame isn’t even my name! It’s what you all call me! It’s like if I looked at you and called you ‘boom viking’. It’s stupid! Bakugou almost outright laughed at that. Fuckin’ idiot. So yeah, in a way, I’m like you! I have a name. And I’m a guy. You keep calling me ‘it’, it’s annoying!

 

Who knew a fucking dragon could be so snappy. Bakugou didn’t comment on it, instead waited for his next questions to be answered.

 

I haven't killed a single Viking, just scared them off. I have a fondness for them, so I can't bring myself to kill any.

 

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. Bakugou himself had killed countless dragons, and was once proud to announce that but was now beginning to think twice.

 

I can’t exactly fight a viking and win without killing them, so..yeah. And I’m not annoying!! That’s just rude.

 

“This whole damn time my goal was to find you and kill you. The best, most furious battle any damn viking would ever see. You’re telling me you’re just a damn pussy?”

 

Kirishima lifted his head up, letting out an annoyed puff. I still fight! I like fighting! And trust me, I would fight you, if I could. As I said, it’d be an honour to get killed at your hands, and to give you a satisfying battle. But I can’t do that without healing.

 

Bakugou was still itching for a chance to fight the Bloodflame.  And now...fuck, maybe he could. There was no point if it was going to be uneven or half-assed.

 

Bakugou thought for a minute, an idea forming in his mind. The viking then shot down a final fish and held it out to Kirishima. An offer.

 

"You're saying you'll fight as usual, when you’re healed?” Bakugou said, throwing the fish down in front of him. “Fine. You stay here and tell me everything I need to know about dragons. And in return, I'll feed you and shit. But as soon as you’re healed, I'm going to fight you, and I'm going to win ."

 

Bakugou leaned in, grinning. “Deal?”

 

Kirishima stared for a moment, then leaned down and ate the fish in one swift bite, before bowing his head. Deal.


My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost
I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home
Cross your heart and hope to die
Promise me you'll never leave my side.


That slowly became a routine, Bakugou returning every day or so with a bucket of fish and healing ointments he’d gotten from his clan. Kirishima would wait like a dog to its owner, brightening up when Bakugou would arrive and gulping down whatever food Bakugou would offer. Eventually, he was finally back to his healthy side, and Bakugou couldn’t say that he hated being around the dragon. 


On the contrary. He was getting attached to the damn thing.

 

But yet again, Bakugou was lugging a large basket of Kirishima’s favourite fish over his back for the dragon, but as he got closer he heard loud clicks of concern, the sound Kirishima only made when something was wrong. His eyes widened, and he sped into a run.

 

Once he got to their usual meeting place, the empty shore of the beach, he let out a sigh of relief. Kirishima wasn’t hurt. But his eyes were wide and worried.

 

Bakugou! What took you so long??  Kirishima yelled, so loud that Bakugou almost winced. The League’s back! They’re heading for your clan, Bakugou, you have to hurry!

 

What ?!” Bakugou exclaimed, turning his head to the shore to see the familiar boats, too many boats, lit aflame and doused in a dangerous reflection of the fire. They were hurling lit canons onto the land, the loud, booming horn sounding over, and over, and over again.

 

Hurry!! What are you waiting for ?!

 

Bakugou didn’t waste another second, and tore himself through the trees. He ran until pain clenched his gut, until his feet stung, and by the time he got back, he was greeted with his clan on fire.

 

Trees were amber, the ever-blue sky surrounded in the crackling black hue. Fire danced from house to house, as if it was playing tag and the objective was to get everyone. Spreading like a virus. The roar of a dragon called before the earth split apart, then a line of fear was sent through it, erupting the land aflame.

 

Bakugou lifted his eyes to the cause of the damage. On the League's boat was two towering Groundsplitters, led by a Bloodflame. The dragon was different from Kirishima. Kirishima's eyes were usually wide and playful, but these only screamed murder. At the sight of the viking, his clan turned to him as if they had found a new hope, and Bakugou clenched his teeth and ran forward, prepared to protect his clan even if it caused his death. Bakugou's eyes darted across the screaming surroundings, the blood-painted sky and the smell of war. He had to win.

 

The smoke clouded Bakugou's vision and he mindlessly took down foe after foe, the calls of encouragement and praise from his clan ringing through his ear. But their voices were blurry, the sound muffled and distorted. His thoughts were the same. All he could do was continue to connect axe and skin, to indulge blow after blow even if it caused his death.

 

Bakugou fought with all of his might, the heat scorching his skin, making him grit his teeth and push harder, harder. He couldn’t give up. He was Bakugou Katsuki. He wasn’t letting his clan fall. They were counting on him. This is what it meant to be a leader, he had to fight, fight to protect. The League clearly knew that and singled on him, taunted him with glowing eyes and lit torches and looks that read you’re only human, you can’t go down.

 

KATSUKI!

 

His eyes went wide as he caught sight of Kirishima, flying as best as he could with the injured wing, his scales catching the light and reflecting like fire, his teeth bared and his eyes serious, determined.  Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he looked back to his clan, who was on the other side of the island, luckily. “Are you CRAZY?!” Bakugou screamed, blocking another flaming arrow with his shield. “You’re going to be killed, you idiot!”

If not by the League, by his own people.

 

A roar ringed through his ears. He recognised it. Bakugou immediately turned to see Kirishima, going head to head with the other Bloodflame.

 

"Kirishima! What are you doing?!" Bakugou cried out, worry staining his tone. "This is my battle, you hear me?! MINE! GO BACK, YOU MORON!"

 

But Kirishima didn't respond, didn't even turn in his direction. He continued fighting, fighting with every bit of strength he had. Bakugou clicked his tongue and turned back to his foe, bringing his fist to collide with his body.

 

Kirishima went head to head with the dragons, so animalistic and furious that Bakugou couldn’t recognise them. He roared, the sound echoing through the air, shaking the damn land, he spat fire and snapped his jaw, took the other one with everything he had. Bakugou watched in awe, admiration, shock. But as much as Bakugou hated to admit it, he could not dream to take down those furious dragons without death. So he turned back to his own foe, let Kirishima fight his.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the fire surrendered and died out, sending the league clan off with a defeated dragon. Kirishima defeated the Bloodflame. Bakugou's entire body was sore, he could hardly move. He craned his head yet again but Kirishima wasn't anywhere in sight. Oh, when he saw that goddamn dragon, he was going to-

 

What was he going to do?

 

That dumbass Bloodflame had not only saved his life, but saved his clan too. Again. If it wasn't for him, the Bakugou clan would be in ashes. Burned to the ground by the never-ending heat of the bloodthirsty enemies. Why? Why did Kirishima keep doing this? Bakugou didn't understand. He was the one to shoot Kirishima down, he was the one to threaten his life, his people were the ones who killed dragons. So why did he continue protecting Bakugou?!

 

With a pained groan, Bakugou hoisted himself up to his feet and made his way over to the area of the Bloodflame's duel. He lifted his head, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, still having not recovered from the heated battle.

 

"Kirishima..?" He called, softly, attempting to spot the familiar red dragon. He didn’t get a reply. Bakugou looked around again, trying to spot any sign of the dragon, but he couldn’t. Bakugou’s gut pooled with panic, and his eyes widened, looking around again, hoping he’d missed something. Kirishima couldn’t have died. He couldn’t have died while fighting to protect Bakugou, he can’t die, he can’t-

 

U-ugh...Bakugou..I'm..o-over here... , a voice interrupted in the viking's head. Bakugou recognised the voice and let out a sigh of relief, immediately turned his head, looking again. The sight before him made his eyes widen in shock, and the viking dropped his axe from his idle hand gripping it, his mouth agape.

 

In front of him was a young man, no older than himself, sprawled across the ground. His body was bare except for a make-do rag draped around his waist. The man was strong, with rippling muscles throughout his torso, accompanied by broad shoulders, large, muscular arms and sculpted calves. He had blood-red hair that was draped across the ground beneath him, surrounding his head in a fire-like halo. Small scales sprinkled across his body, across his thick arms, scattered across his chest and on the outer parts of his legs. He was breathing heavily, painful wounds across his body. His mouth was open to reveal shark-teeth, and behind bruised eyes were carmine irises.

 

His addicting gaze was locked onto Bakugou as soon as the viking came near him, and his mouth stretched into a painful smile. “H-hey, Bakugou.”

 

Bakugou staggered back, gaze wide and confused. "K-kirishima?! What the fuck?! "

 


 

Kirishima dropped his head back to the ground and groaned, the aftermath of the battle destroying his bones. They seeped within his muscles and tore him apart, lighting a new dangerous pain that incinerated his body. The pain was unbearable. It hurt, it hurt so much.

 

Everything in him wanted to get out of there. Everything in him wanted to leave the white-hot pain that smirked in his face before torturing his body even further. Bruises scattered across his chest in ugly colours of yellow-blue-purple, and blood seeped through his wounds and pooled over his body. Wounds painted his body in battle, the ugly true masterpiece that was the war. The never ending war he had to face days and days upon end. And why? For the dangerous, hot-headed Viking that wanted him dead.

 

Why did he do this? Why did he keep going this far? There were so many questions, the dragon-man’s mind ripping in two. The mental war of questions demanding answers was greater than any war outside. Kirishima was a dragon. A strong, powerful dragon who was hunted and slaughtered by every Viking. And he knew the history between the Vikings, he knew about Bakugou’s ways. Yet he got his hopes up yet again, he got attached yet again. Kirishima clung to the melodic hope, became addicted to the sound and the yellow-pink crescendo of happiness each passing moment gained within his heart. And it was all for nothing. The Viking felt nothing.

 

So why’d he do this?

 

To be honest, that’s the answer Kirishima himself would like to know more than anyone.

 

The ground began to pound and a heat swelled within Kirishima’s physically and emotionally broken heart, and that could only be placed to one person. And Kirishima smiled. There, sprawled out on the ground, death an exhale away, he didn’t regret a single moment as he thought of the Viking.

 

“Bakugou...” He whispered weakly, blurred eyes scanning over the shocked expression of the Viking. It then occurred to him that Bakugou had never seen his human form. That slightly disappointed him. Kirishima wanted it to be special. He wanted their relationship to grow, he wanted to be close to Bakugou. He wanted to feel that soaring melody of happiness racing through his veins for the rest of his life. And he wanted Bakugou to feel it too. As the Viking came into view, his eyes finally fluttered closed.

 

As Bakugou egged nearer, clearly in shock and disbelief at the sight in front of him, Kirishima found a smile yet again. “B-Bakugou...” He whispered, and Bakugou’s chest began to rise rapidly.


 

 

 

 

So you can drag me through hell,
If it meant I could hold your hand.
I will follow you.

 

'Cause I'm under your spell,
And you can throw me to the flames.
I will follow you, I will follow you.

 


 

The Viking didn’t understand. What the hell was with this stupid creature? Going up against a Bloodflame, against three dragons. Practically throwing himself to death as if his life meant nothing. And for Bakugou. Every time. Why was that?! It baffled him to the core, sent a mix of raging emotions pouring through his mind. He would not let anyone pity him. He didn’t need to be protected. But Bakugou knew that he couldn’t keep treating the dragon like this, when he’d just put his life on the line. Again.

 

As well as that, the fact that the stupid reptile was a human all along made him sick to his stomach. Sure, Bakugou was used to killing dragons one by one without blinking, was used to the stench of Dragon blood. He was used to treating them like dirt, like nothing, killing them and rising above them, protecting his clan. But a human? A man, a living breathing, smiling man with a heart, with feelings. That’s who he was threatening the entire time? Bakugou almost didn’t want to believe it. But the sprinkle of fire scales, the matching shark teeth and the grinning carmine eyes begged to differ.

 

“You’re a human?! A goddamn human?! Why didn’t you say something, stupid goddamn-” Bakugou began, fuming slightly. There was so much happening, and he didn’t know what to feel. What to say. More than anything, he wanted to release all of his anger out on Kirishima. To hurt him so badly for thinking that he was weak, weak enough to be protected. Bakugou didn’t need this goddamn guy’s pity. But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not after what Kirishima risked.

 

This is my last goddamn favour to you... Bakugou swore to himself, making his way closer to Kirishima. He loomed over the injured man, staring down at him with a new form of disgust. Kirishima flashed him a weak smile and turned his head, as if waiting for a blow to strike, again. Bakugou felt his stomach turn in the same ugly emotion. Guilt.

 

Clenching his fists, Bakugou threw aside the disgusting feeling and with a click of his tongue, kneeled down and gently took Kirishima in his arms, one hand under his knees, the other supporting his back. Kirishima’s face automatically become drenched in pain, his features clenched tightly, jaw tensing. His body was rigid in Bakugou’s hold, and the male let out a small groan of pain, curling himself slightly against the Bakugou’s chest, his hair tickling Bakugou’s skin.

 

“I’m going to take you to the healer. It’s a bit of a long walk. ” Bakugou said, his voice gruff, moving slowly. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t find himself to regret it. Kirishima’s eyelashes fluttered, but then remained closed yet again, his body relaxing slightly. He was trembling, however. Bakugou could feel it under his fingertips. He could also feel the intense wounds over Kirishima’s body and winced, knowing that the dragon-male would be going through a lot of pain right now.

 

Bakugou made his way over to his clan, Kirishima still within his grasp. The vikings there parted, making a route for him to walk through. Each one had faced the terrors of the battle, and it was visible on them. They were coughing, wounded, hurt.

 

But as soon as the Viking walked past, their gaze brightened. “It’s Bakugou! It’s the son of the chief!” One yelled, and Bakugou’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded. “He saved us!” Bakugou winced. Not exactly.

 

They then looked down, seeing Kirishima in Bakugou’s arms, and fell silent. “And that man he’s holding...he must have fought with him. They both saved us all!”  Bakugou heard Kirishima’s breath catch against his chest, and Bakugou felt a small ounce of pride return, quickly, before remaining stone-faced and focusing on his current goal.

 

He reached his father’s hut; The Chief’s hut. Bakugou gently opened it, welcomed to the sight of his parents sitting side by side on the bed. His mother was nursing his father’s wounds, adjusting his chief’s cloak and lecturing him about how he should’ve been more careful.

 

“Oi.” Bakugou said, loud enough for both of his parents to turn around. Their eyes immediately winded at the sight of their son, and they let out a startled gasp as they caught the sight of Kirishima, injured in his arms.

 

“K-katsuki! Who’s this? What happened to him?!” His father called out, standing up abruptly and making his way over to his son. Bakugou turned his head, knowing he couldn’t simply say ‘a bloodflame’.

 

“Kirishima. He’s....another Viking, from another clan. He saw the ships approaching and warned me then went one on one with the Bloodflame and took it down.” Bakugou murmured. A majority of the story was true, at least.

 

Masaru eyes went wide and he turned to his wife. Mitsuki locked her gaze on to the injured man, and back up to Bakugou, causing him to suck in a breath and wait for the blow, upon habit. But Mitsuki gently touched her closed hand on her forehead before resting it on her chest. Masaru paused, looking at Kirishima, but then repeated the action, shutting his eyes. The sign of thanks, and of respect.

 

“Thank you for bringing him here, Katsuki. Here.” Mitsuki said, taking Kirishima gently from his arms. Bakugou turned his head. He shouldn’t be going through this much effort for Kirishima. He knew that, and yet he was still here. Bakugou’s parents scanned his wounds, gently attempting to bandage some of the gashes on his arm and treat the pooling blood from his wounds. Bakugou waited at his father’s desk, seating himself in the chair.

 

Once his parents had finished, his father gently entered the room, and Bakugou let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t stand being in the same room as his mother, even so she could tend to Kirishima’s wounds.

 

“Katsuki. We finished with him. His wounds are very, very bad.” Masaru started, sitting down. Yeah, no shit, Bakugou wanted to reply, but held his tongue. “I think you’ll have to take him to a healer. Outside our land, I mean. We can’t treat his wounds alone.”

 

Masaru spoke softly, and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, but Bakugou shrugged it off aggressively, eyes narrowing. “I’m not taking him to a goddamn healer.” Bakugou drawled, and Masaru’s eyebrows drew together.

 

“Katsuki, don’t you recognise his kind?” Masaru said, disbelief in his tone, and the way Bakugou looked up at him was enough proof that he didn’t. “He’s from the Riot Clan. I recognise the shade of hair and teeth. No one with that appearance could be from a clan around here.”

“The Riot Clan?!” Bakugou said, shocked. The Riot Clan was one of the strongest clans, and hidden away. Finding a member of the Riot Clan was extremely rare, but every single one of them was a warrior.

 

The Bloodflame was originally discovered by the Riot Clan. The clan was legendary, made of huge, fearsome warriors, and legend said that they were bulletproof. Their skin could mould to be as tough as stone, no blade could pierce them, no bullet could enter their body. The Riot Clan is indestructible. Usually recognised by their flame red hair and...freakishly sharp teeth.

 

Bakugou couldn’t believe it. If Kirishima was part of the Riot Clan..and a dragon. A Bloodflame. What did that mean ??

 

“Katsuki, he helped protect your clan. You should be grateful. The least you can do is help him get healed. This is no time to be selfish.” Masaru said, quieter this time. Bakugou turned away yet again. Kirishima wasn’t worth his time. He’d grown too attached. This was already too much. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know what to do.

 

“He goddamn pitied me! I could’ve fought on my own, goddamnit! It was his choice to go get his ass kicked, so why do I have to be the one that lugs him around, huh?!” Bakugou retorted, as if using his words could change his own mind as well as his father’s, while silently knowing the truth.

 

Masaru leaned forward, turning the chair and placing his hand on his son’s shoulders, eyes narrowed. “Go heal him, Katsuki. If you want your tribe to care about you, you have to care about your people.” Masaru whispered, his calm tone sending a shiver down Bakugou’s spine, and he couldn’t do anything but nod.

 

So that’s how he ended up here. Bakugou walked slowly, attempting to remember exactly where this stupid witch kept herself. The Deku clan was definitely one of the stronger ones, led by the strongest Vikings his age he knew other than himself.

 

Their leader and son-of-chief was a young man called Midoriya, who he didn’t particularly like. The two were rivals for a while, but he was strong. The next Viking was Todoroki, also known as the two-toned warrior. His fighting style was sometimes out of control, like fire, but other times cool and deadly, like ice. The next was Iida, the fastest Viking in the southern islands. And finally, Uraraka. The strongest female warrior, and also the most efficient and amazing healer the Vikings had known. If anyone could cure Kirishima, it would be her.

 


Kirishima could now stand on his own, and was walking by Bakugou’s side in silence. Bakugou had left behind his armour, the fur-cuffed cape still hanging down his shoulders. Bakugou felt Kirishima looking at him, his gaze lingering on the necklace on Bakugou’s chest. Bakugou winced; the necklace was made of dragon teeth, as a trophy for his won battles, and based on Kirishima’s face, he knew that too.

 

“Where are we going?” Kirishima asked, breaking the silence, and Bakugou huffed out a sigh. “I told you. M’bringing you to a healer I know in a clan nearby. They’re our age n’ absolute morons.”

“Oh.” Kirishima looked back down again. “Are they your friends?”

Bakugou scoffed. “I don’t do friends, dumbass.”

 

Kirishima laughed at that, his lips curving up into a small smile. “Hey, Bakugou? ...Thanks. For healing me, and whatever.”

Bakugou’s ears flushed red. “‘Wasn’t my choice. You saved our clan, ‘s a sign of respect to help you in return. My father made the choice, I’m carrying it out. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

 

Kirishima nods, but doesn’t reply, and a thick silence returns. Bakugou’s eyebrows draw together. He’s still got millions of unanswered questions, things that make absolutely no sense. Even the damn fact that Kirishima’s walking next to him as a human was damn confusing.

 

“...What’s wrong?” Kirishima asked, causing Bakugou to look up, eyebrows drawn together.

“What??” Bakugou replied, confused.

 

“You keep looking at me.”

 

Bakugou sighed, looking away for a moment. “I’m fucking confused.”

 

Kirishima blinks, eyes wide. “About what?”

“Should be fucking obvious. ” Bakugou spat, and realisation dawned on Kirishima, and he rubbed the back of his head.

 

“O-oh, the whole dragon thing, yeah?” Kirishima chuckles awkwardly. “Well...I mean, if you have any questions, ask. I’ll answer them all.”

 

“How the fuck were you a dragon and now a damn person??” Bakugou asked, almost immediately. It was the one he was wondering the most about, because it made no fucking sense.

 

“Okay, well, uh...how do I explain this.” Kirishima muttered. “So, basically, my old man did something to piss off some mage after shooting down a ‘Bloodflame’, so he was cursed to turn into one, every night, when the moon went up. He somehow kept it hidden from my mother, no idea how, but that got passed onto me. Except, I’m half-half. I can transform at will.”

 

“A shifter.” Bakugou said, to himself, and Kirishima nodded. That did make a little bit of sense. “Wait, if you’re a damn dragon, and you knew that vikings kill dragons, why the fuck were you flyin’ around my clan for??”

 

Kirishima shrugged. “I like seeing you fight, I was trying to watch n’ got distracted.”

 

Bakugou went silent after that, another question prodding his brain. His eyebrows drew together. “How do you feel. About the whole...fighting dragons thing.”

 

“Ha, are you having second thoughts now?” Kirishima chuckled a little. “Honestly...it’s all a big misunderstanding. The only reasons dragons attack is territory. If vikings could respect that, there’d be no more.”

 

Bakugou blinks, confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, dragons are really, really territorial.” Kirishima starts. “They fight each other for pieces of land, then kind of like vikings, start their own clan of dragons. So when a viking clan sets up in their territory, they attack, or the viking attacks. If either just moved, it wouldn’t matter. Your clan is right in the middle of Groundsplitter and Flamebreath territory.”

 

Bakugou lets out a slow breath. “Fuck. That actually...makes sense. Fuck.

 

Kirishima laughs, again, and Bakugou’s starting to get used to the sound. That’s one thing he’s noticed. Kirishima smiles and laughs a lot. He’s almost always smiling, if not with his mouth, with his eyes. Maybe it’s just a weird sight, since Bakugou’s the pure opposite.

 

“Any other questions?” Kirishima asked, and Bakugou had one more. One that’d been eating him from the very start.

 

“...Why the fuck are you so attached to me?” Bakugou snapped. “You said you come to my clan just to watch me fight, you fucking saved my life, twice, you said you’d be happy to die if I was the one who was killing you. You saved my clan, and acted like it was nothing. You still act like you’d protect me in a heartbeat, when I don’t fucking need to be protected!”

 

A long silence lingers through their shared air for many moments after the last work left Bakugou’s lips, an absolute mess of pent-up fury finally left free. A mess of fear and doubt and the constant question of why, why, why, asking why do you keep coming back, why do you act like I’m something special, why do you look at me like I mean something to you.

 

It made no sense. Every question had no answer.

 

Kirishima takes a slow breath. “Katsuki, I just...I really admire you, I guess. I don’t have a reason why that I can tell you, I’m sorry about that. And I never plan to jump in or meant to make it seem like I didn’t think you could handle it on your own--I know you can.”

Kirishima’s ears and cheek flush gently, matching red to his hair dusting over his skin. “My body moves before I do. My heart makes weird decisions before I can. It’s not something I can control, and I’m sorry.”

 

Bakugou’s heart thrums in his chest, and he clicks his tongue. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

Kirishima laughs, again, turning to Bakugou with a soft smile. “Yeah. I know.”

 

“You know you can’t stay, right?” Bakugou mumbled. “You need to go back to your own clan.”

Kirishima’s expression visibly drops, his eyebrows drawing together, his smile falling into a frown. “Yeah...I know. I won’t be able to go back to the Riot Clan, though. I’ll still need to transform, I need each form kept equal. I can’t do that. ‘S why I chose this land, it’s big.”

 

Bakugou sighed. “In that case,” Tough luck, Bakugou should’ve said, I’ve done enough for you, Bakugou should’ve said, but instead an ugly feeling pooled in his gut, again. “You can stay.” Was what he said, instead.

 

Kirishima’s eyes widened,  and he turned to Bakugou in shock. “W-what?!”

Bakugou sucked in a breath. “You can stay. If...you be my dragon.” Kirishima looks visibly confused, so Bakugou continues. “I’ll keep your forms a secret. ‘Tell my father bout ‘em. Make sure you stay ok or whatever. You fight with the clan in return, be our weapon n’ our shield.”

 

Kirishima blinks, his mouth falling open. Bakugou’s ears flush red, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care anymore. He can see that happening, clearly. Instead of protector and victim, which was ugly and that makes Bakugou’s gut twist, partners. Viking and dragon. It was an acceptable future, one that made Bakugou’s lips curl into a faint smile.

 

“I...woah, Katsuki,” Kirishima breathes with a laugh. “You’re...god, you’re so manly. How could I say no?”

Bakugou smirks, and Kirishima’s still beaming. “Let’s do that, Bakugou. Thank you.”

Bakugou doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to. He knows that this will be absolutely insane, a dragon and a viking? It’s unheard of. But he’s willing to give it a try. 


 

From then on, Kirishima was given a home in the Bakugou clan. Which, unfortunately for Bakugou, meant Kirishima was always with him. Kirishima came back from Uraraka holding eight bottles of various medication and what not that she’d recommended. Masaru, surprisingly, was more than happy with Bakugou’s decision to let Kirishima stay. He and Mitsuki turned a spare office to a traditional-looking bedroom fit for a viking.

 

Kirishima was over the moon. He treated Bakugou’s parents like gods or legends, which was completely utterly stupid. He always was smiling, always , and he’d even used some of Mitsuki’s gel to spike up his red hair, so that it would ‘match the clan’. It was stupid, Bakugou would always say, but Kirishima didn’t care. He never did.

 

The clan loved him. The people adored him. Bakugou’s parents called him ‘son’, they fully accepted him into their home, as if he was meant to be there in the first place. Bakugou didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know how to feel about any of it.

 

It was his decision, all of this, but it was too easy. It’s confusing.

 

The thing that confused Bakugou the most, right from the start, was Kirishima. How he smiled so bright that it basically lit up the clan. How he was a people-magnet, how you couldn’t not look at him and feel this weird joy in his chest. The fact that Bakugou was falling into that category, how his chest did this weird thing, how he felt this weird feeling he couldn’t name when he looked at Kirishima. Kirishima was an angel to everyone, he was determined and passionate and kind, despite knowing that if these people knew who he really was, they’d have his head. It was like he didn’t care, and it made absolutely no sense.

 

Bakugou was one of those people, but Kirishima never acted like that. No, instead he looked up to Bakugou with stars in his eyes, his face lit up even further when Bakugou entered the room, he was overly happy just when he got to spend time with Bakugou. Bakugou could blame that on him being an idiot, whatever.

 

What he couldn’t find an excuse for, was the way Kirishima’s cheeks would go red if Bakugou went too close or if their hands accidentally touched. How Bakugou’d catch him staring at his lips before Kirishima’d turn crimson red and look away. How one night when Bakugou had accidentally fallen asleep on the Chief’s chair, he’d woken up to Kirishima sitting next to him in the middle of the night when the clan was supposed to be fast asleep, running his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, touch light as a feather. Once Kirishima had noticed that Bakugou was awake, his cheeks flushed and he drew his hand back, praying that Bakugou didn’t notice. He had.

It made no sense, none of it.


 

I will march down an empty street like a ship into the storm
No surrender, no retreat
I will tear down every wall
Just to keep you warm
Just to bring you home


I will burn this city down for a diamond in the dust
I will keep you safe and sound when there's no one left to trust
Will you take my hand?
We can make our stand.

 


 

Bakugou was sitting on his bed, removing his armour from their latest battle. Kirishima had been right by him through the battle, was practically his right-hand man. He’d fought and protected his clan, without even needing to transform.

Bakugou took off his cloak, and clicked his tongue. What was with this guy?

Almost on queue, a gentle knock sounded on the door. Bakugou recognised it immediately, and didn’t need to give his permission for whoever it was to come in, knowing they would anyway. Kirishima let himself in mere seconds after, beaming and taking a seat beside Bakugou. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, what remained of his vest in sorry wrecks, small marks and blemishes visible from the fresh fight.

 

“Hey, man. I wanted to check in you! You did super well today, good job.” Kirishima said, eyes twinkling. Bakugou’s stare lingered a little, on those eyes, before he looked away with a click of his tongue.

“I know I did well, idiot. I always do well.” Bakugou replied, tone sharp. “I’m the fucking leader of this clan. ‘S what I do. Win.”

 

Kirishima laughs, loud and warm, and the same weird feeling pooled in Bakugou’s chest. “Haha, it’s to be expected of the great Bakugou Katsuki! Nothing less than the best, huh?”

“You bet.” Bakugou mumbled. “‘S that why you came here? To annoy me ‘bout winning today?”

Kirishima laughs again, shaking his head. “No, no! I was actually...uh, I was wondering something, if that’s ok?”

 

“What is it?” Bakugou asked, not really interested. He probably wants to fight or some shit like that, classic fucking Kirishima.

 

Kirishima visibly gets more nervous, causing Bakugou to cock a brow. “Well, I...uh. The thing is, I, um.” Kirishima pauses, taking a deep breath. “I need to transform back into a dragon again.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and he glances around to make sure no one could possibly hear them before looking back to Kirishima. “What the fuck?! Are you crazy ?! You can’t! What if someone sees you, you moron?!”

“No, no, Katsuki, you don’t get it! I need to!” Kirishima insists. “If I don’t, I’ll end up transforming when the moon comes out, like my dad! I won’t be able to control it anymore!”

That made Bakugou shut up real quick, realisation dawning on him. “What the fuck? How does that work?”

Kirishima takes a deep breath. “See, well, the thing is, is that I actually have 3 forms. This one, obviously. Then full dragon. And then one that’s a mixture of both, it’s like a human-dragon? I basically look like this, but I have scales and claws and wings too, if I want. It’s the one you saw when I was on the beach.”

Bakugou blinks, slowly. “Wait, wait. You have a third form ?? How did I not know about that?”

Kirishima shrugs. “Never needed to tell you, I guess. The other two were more important, anyway. I need to balance all three forms out, and I’ve just been using that form while I’m sleeping, so it takes away that issue.”

 

Bakugou scowls, eyebrows drawing together. “Show me.”

Kirishima blinks, surprised. “What?-”

 

“-Your half-half form, or whatever. Show me.” Bakugou pushes again.

Kirishima pauses, but then nods, shutting his eyes. Quickly, various sized red scales that Bakugou recognises from his dragon form start to sprinkle across his skin, his arms, gathering at his shoulders, framing his face. His hands turn larger, nails longer, the skin there almost entirely covered in scales. Kirishima opens his eyes, looking at Bakugou, but Bakugou’s still focused on the new form, the new details to Kirishima.

 

Without thinking, Bakugou lifted his hand and brushed his fingers across Kirishima’s neck, causing the other to freeze. Bakugou didn’t stop, his eyebrows drawing together as he dragged his hand down Kirishima’s neck, to his shoulders, brushing down his arm. The scales were smooth and cold underneath his fingers, blood-red and catching the light. Bakugou turned over Kirishima’s hand, then takes his thumb, dragging his fingers across the sharp nail, examining him.

 

Once he’s satisfied, he draws his hand back, looking back to Kirishima. “‘S weird as fuck.” Kirishima’s face is absolutely bright red, before he looks away, and transforms back to normal, the scales receding, his hands going back to normal.

 

“So. You need to transform into a dragon or whatever, to balance out your forms?” Bakugou confirms, and Kirishima nods.

“Yeah. Luckily, since my dragon form’s much bigger and was my main one for so long before, I won’t need to hold it for too long. Maybe around two hours.” Kirishima says, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me, do whatever you want.”

Kirishima beams. “Really? Thank you so much, Katsuki!! I was thinking we leave around midnight, and come back around three o’clock? The sun looks the best, then, and I won’t go high enough that we can’t breathe, don’t worry!”

Bakugou pauses when he hears the word we , and holds up a hand. “Oi, wait. Why the fuck am I coming with you? What do I have to do with this?!”

Kirishima pauses. “Well, I..I was hoping..” Kirishima trails off, then grins, cheekily. “Have you ever heard of dragon riding?”

Bakugou blinks, his eyes widening. “What the fu- dragon riding??

Kirishima nods. “Yeah!! Back in the day, when vikings and dragons used to..y’know, get along, there were dragon riders! Vikings who ride on the backs of dragons. I was thinking we could do that!”

“You want me to go with you, n’ ride on your back?? While you fly ?!” Bakugou said, again, trying to confirm what the fuck this means.

 

Kirishima smiles, again. “Well, yeah. You were the one who said you wanted me to be your dragon, Katsuki. What do you say?”

 

Bakugou clicks his tongue, for a moment. Fuck. To be able to fly, on Kirishima’s back? As much as he hated to admit it, being King of the Island and King of the Sky sounded fucking awesome.

 

“Whatever. I’ll do it.” Bakugou mumbles. “But drop me or some shit and I’ll kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs, again. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Katsuki!”

 


Bakugou’s nervous. He fucking knows it’s stupid, he’s a viking, the leader of his clan, vikings don’t get nervous. But it wasn’t every damn day that you were offered to ride on the back of a fucking dragon, and as much as Bakugou hated to admit it, he was terrified of falling. Falling felt like failure. Once you were dropped, there was no way to get back up again, until you slammed against the ground, and by that point, you were a goner. Cliff edges were dangerous, Bakugou barely went anywhere near those. To try to fly on the back of a dragon? That can’t be safe.

 

Kirishima must have noticed his worry, because he took Bakugou’s hand and smiled at him gently. Bakugou jumped at the touch, and looked down at their hands then to Kirishima, scowling.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, don’t be mad!” Kirishima said, holding up his hand. “I just...I don’t want you to be scared, okay? It’ll be fine, I promise!”

“Shut up.” Bakugou mumbled. “I’m not scared of anything.”

 

Kirishima laughed. “I know. Just know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, turning his head away. “I’m not going to back out, you dumbass. I ain’t a coward.”

 

The sky was dark, pitch black spanning across their heads. It was a clear night, barely any stars to be seen. The landscape around them was surprisingly quiet, the clan fast asleep, at peace, almost. Who knew the night could be so calm?

Kirishima lead him to the beach that they would meet at, but this time, takes him up to the clifftop. Kirishima put down his dagger, followed by any other heavier items. He looked to Bakugou one last time, who just nodded, and Kirishima smiles. The air had begun to hiss, smoke emitting from Kirishima’s body until it was surrounding him. Bakugou coughed, fanning it away, and when it finally cleared, Kirishima was in his dragon form again. It was only at moments like this where Bakugou really took in how Kirishima looked; he was huge, and he was absolutely beautiful.

 

Bakugou coughed, not exactly knowing what to do next. “So, do I just..fuck. How the fuck do I do this?”

 

Just climb onto my back! Sit on my neck, and you can hold onto my horns if it helps.

 

Kirishima lowered his body, and Bakugou sighed. It could be compared to mounting a horse. He levered himself up on his hands, before swinging his leg over, sitting comfortably on the base of Kirishima’s neck. Bakugou’s hands were pressed against the smooth scales, and he breathed, slowly, as Kirishima stood up again.

 

Are you ready?

 

Bakugou took another slow breath. “I’m ready.”

And with that, Kirishima spread his wings carefully, and walked to the end of the cliff. Bakugou’s heartbeat started to race faster, and Kirishima gave him a moment to catch himself, before moving back, and jumped off the edge. Bakugou’s heart jumped into his throat and made a noise that sounded like a yell, his stomach dropping as they did. They were travelling so fast, too fast, cool air was hitting his face the more they fell and he was sure he was going to fall, they were going to fall, they were going to die-

 

In a split movement, Kirishima levelled his wings, and the drop stopped. The air was calm, and Bakugou caught his breath. Kirishima flew gently, soaring on top of the wind, hand-in-hand with the clouds. The sky was beautiful from this view, ridden with stars, and Bakugou stared in complete awe.

 

I’m sorry if I scared you before. But flying’s not scary, I promise you. I’ll show you.

 

The sky merged into a soft midnight-blue, a gradual gradient of colours as it went on. The clouds reflected this, a light addition, moving slowly amongst the sky. It was something out of a dream, out of a painting, a legend. The only sound that could be heard was the flap of Kirishima’s wings, and Bakugou took in the sight, wondering why he’d ever been afraid in the first place.

 

Kirishima began to speed up, gently, climbing higher, and higher. Wind passed by Bakugou’s head, pushing his hair behind him, and he clutched onto Kirishima’s horns, before it levelled out again. Bakugou looked at the new view around him. Kirishima had taken him to the ocean. The sea was sparkling underneath, reflecting in shimmering silver waves. When Bakugou looked up again, he saw the moon, right above his head, so bright it was almost blinding. His heart raced in a new way, and for once, he didn’t say a single thing.

 

Dragon Riders. Bakugou couldn’t believe that a hundred or two hundreds prior, vikings were able to do this. It was beautiful. Breathtaking. He couldn’t find words good enough, he couldn’t possibly describe the feeling as nothing less than amazing. The stars seemed to follow their movements as they flew, Kirishima’s wings cutting through the sky, the ocean underneath them, the scent of the sea tenting the air. Bakugou rarely left his clan, rarely saw the world outside of his own one. It was something he wouldn’t have ever gotten to see, if he hadn’t met Kirishima.

 

Would never have seen the way the clouds merge with the sky, how the skies melt into a gradient as morning comes, never have gotten to hold his hand out and cut the water apart with his fingertips when Kirishima swooped down to bring them close to the ocean. It was magical. It felt like Bakugou almost didn’t deserve this view, his kind of people were so destructive and vile and it didn’t make sense, that Kirishima thinks that he deserves to experience this. He was the one who brought Bakugou out here.

 

Fuck, Kirishima had done so, so damn much for him this entire time, it was surreal. Even with their rocky start, he was constantly looking out for Bakugou, constantly by his side. Bakugou had never really had any friends, he thought he was better than everyone, so he naturally drew away the other kids. But Kirishima...Kirishima wasn’t like that. He was more than a friend. Bakugou couldn’t explain it.

 

Alright, it’s past 2 am. I’m going to land, okay?

 

Bakugou nodded, relaxing slightly from where he was sitting. Kirishima turned around, flying back in the direction they came, passing by the ocean, the stars, the stone pillars and all other views Bakugou was lucky enough to see. Bakugou looked in front of them, and he could see the hill cliff ahead. The landing was smooth, and he held down his wing, lowering his body so that Bakugou could climb off him and step back.

 

Kirishima then transforms back, slowly, a large cloud of red smoke emitting from him as he does. Bakugou waved it away with his spare hand, coughing, before Kirishima’s back in front of him again, in his human form.

 

Bakugou can’t stop staring, can’t stop drinking in every little detail. How his hair is slightly messy, falling across his face in soft, red waves, framing his cheeks and travelling down to the start of his neck, just below his ears. Bakugou wondered if it was as soft to touch as he thought it was, and for once, wanted to find out himself. His eyes were still sparkling, and he was grinning without showing teeth, which just drew Bakugou more and more to his lips.

The hundreds of swirling feelings for Kirishima finally came together and made sense, the various moments between them flashing in his head like a slideshow for a movie he was rewatching, the shoot down, when Bakugou shot him that fish, Kirishima transforming for the first time…

 

What they had was fucking special. Kirishima wasn’t just his friend. Bakugou’s feelings for him weren’t something for a brother, like his dad suggested. Kirishima was more. He was so, so special, and here he was, right in front of Bakugou, smiling like that.

 

He’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life.

 

“Katsuki,” The sound of his first name, though said many times before, is enough to send shivers down Bakugou’s spine. “Did you like it?”

Bakugou doesn’t reply, still just staring at Kirishima, at the scar above his eye, his caramel skin. He’s mesmerized, fallen so bad that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the signs before.

 

He noticed Kirishima was still waiting for an answer, so he lets out a short exhale, nodding. “It was amazing, you dumbass,” He mumbles, just loud enough for Kirishima to hear.

 

Kirishima laughs again, warm and gentle, and the sound lights up the night and sends butterflies swarming through Bakugou’s stomach. “Yeah?”

Bakugou’s heart jumps to his throat, and he swallows. “Yeah.”

Bakugou looks away, then, because it’s too much for his heart to handle. But Kirishima’s still looking at him, he can feel it. Kirishima lets out a small breath of air before he steps closer and cups Bakugou’s cheek, causing Bakugou to look back up at him in alarm. Bakugou’s cheeks flush bright red, and Kirishima grins, softly.

 

Kirishima’s gaze fall down to his lips, and Bakugou’s heart starts to race, again. Kirishima then looks back up at him, and swallows again. “Katsuki, can I…?”

Bakugou’s cheeks flush further, knowing what he’s asking. “If you want to, then just do it already, you moron.” He mumbled, causing Kirishima to smile, but he doesn’t waste any more time, and closes the distance between them.

The moments between when their lips touch is agonising, Bakugou’s heart racing faster, and faster, and he seems to be hyper-aware of his surroundings, of Kirishima’s breath against his face, at his fluttering lashes,  before Bakugou’s eyes fall closed and a pair of warm lips press against his.

 

Bakugou Katsuki was rough. Everything in his life was rough. He was a brutal person, a fighter, not even once in his life had he experienced anything tender, had he allowed himself to be tender. Nothing about his life was gentle, but yet, when Kirishima’s lips touched his, that’s the only possible word he could use to describe it.

 

Their kiss is slow, and Bakugou absolutely melts. It feels like the sky’s falling around him, like the ocean is washing against the sand, like a soft breeze or gentle melody, like the world was done right with one kiss.

 

It’s his first ever kiss in his 17 years of life, and he suspects it’s the same for Kirishima, too, but it’s so right. They hold the kiss for longer than they should, not daring to break away, not wanting to break away, but eventually Kirishima pulls back. His eyes are gentle, happy, as he looks at Bakugou, and Bakugou meets his eyes again before leaning in for another kiss.

 

This one lights up his heart, makes it explode inside his chest as Kirishima kisses back and wraps his arm around him, pulling him closer. Bakugou’s hands settle on Kirishima’s waist, squeezing him when he wanted to, focusing on his reactions, on how they fit together, so well, how their lips slid open against each other like they were meant to.

 

Neither of them know what they’re doing, but neither of them can seem to stop, either, following only their instincts and feelings, mixing like watercolours, lips meeting again and again, softly, passionately, full of all the unsaid words and unmade touches, and they never wanted it to end.


 

If your world falls apart
I'd start a riot


If night falls in your heart
I'd light the fire


In the dark, when you sound the alarm,
We'll find each other's arms


For your love, all you are,
I'd start a riot.

 


After that, nothing really changed. Bakugou went on with his usual duties as every day came, serving his clan, sketching battle plans and helped making weapons and building new homes. Kirishima trained some of the younger kids, helped out his parents, made friends with some of the other vikings, including the idiots his age. They fell head over heels for him, who wouldn’t? Kirishima left to get ointments and healing oil, and came back with five new friends. He was just like that.

 

But when Bakugou came back, Kirishima would be waiting, and would greet him with a kiss. They called each other by their given names, ended up sleeping in each other’s rooms so much that they barely slept alone anymore, falling asleep in the warmth of each other’s hold, waking up with gentle touches and the other’s face being the first thing they saw. It was a sweet domestic life, and Bakugou wouldn’t ask for anything else.

 

His parents noticed, of course, but didn’t say anything. Masaru just sent Bakugou this gentle, knowing smile, followed by a nod. He knew, and he approved. It didn’t matter if he didn’t, Bakugou was happy with Kirishima,  and that’s all he cared about.

 

This is another lazy morning, they’ve fallen asleep in Bakugou’s bed, this time. Kirishima’s head was leaning on Bakugou’s shoulder and Bakugou has his arm wrapped around Kirishima’s waist. Cuddling like that was one of the best parts of Bakugou’s day. It was stressful, being the future chief, and this really gave him a moment to relax and enjoy himself.

 

By the time Bakugou opened his eyes, Kirishima was already tracing his fingers down Bakugou’s face gently. Kirishima’s hand stopped when Bakugou looked up at him, and he smiled, pressing a kiss to Bakugou’s forehead.

“Morning, Katsuki.” Kirishima said with a smile. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Mornin’,” Bakugou mumbled, yawning a little. Kirishima kissed him gently, and Bakugou kissed back lazily, as best he could in his tired state.

 

“Hey, is it ok if we go out for a fly tonight? I’m due for another transformation.” Kirishima asked, brushing Bakugou’s hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

Bakugou’s eyebrows drew together. “They’ve started to get suspicious, Eijirou. ‘Ve been meaning to tell you ‘bout that.” Bakugou sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

 

Kirishima’s expression changed, knowing Bakugou was serious. “Oh. What’s wrong?”

 

Bakugou took a deep breath. “I want to tell ‘em that you’re a shifter.”

 

Kirishima’s eyes go wide, his mouth falling open. “What?! You want to tell them ?!! Katsuki, are you out of your mind?”

“I know that, but I can’t fucking risk anyone finding out. What if they did, n’ shot you down, like I did? What if they saw you transforming, and sent you away? We can’t risk it.” Bakugou shot back, before pausing, and letting out a slow exhale. “If my parents know, they can help me protect you. You’ll be under the chief’s care.”

 

Kirishima goes silent, chewing on his bottom lip. “What if they send me away, Katsuki? You know how vikings are with dragons..”

 

“I know. I won’t let them send you away. We’ll be fine.” Bakugou assured.

 

Kirishima looked unsure, but then took a deep breath. “Okay. I trust you.”

 

“Thank you.” Bakugou says, then presses a slow kiss to Kirishima’s lips. “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to us. It’ll be fine.”


Kirishima and Bakugou were holding hands, and Bakugou took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how this would end, but he knew this was the right thing to do. They couldn’t keep on hiding anymore. 


“Morning, boys! Could I get you anything to eat? Some yak meat, maybe?” Mitsuki offered with a polite grin, and Bakugou turned his head away.

 

“Uh, we’re good, thank you!” Kirishima said, nervous. “We actually have something we need to tell you.”

 

Mitsuki just grinned. “Did you boys finally decide to get married? I was wondering when he’d finally find someone!” She chirped, and both Kirishima and Bakugou went bright red.

 

“N-no, we’re not. Uh, we’re not getting married!” Kirishima stammered, and Mitsuki pouted.

 

When Bakugou turned 18, that was when he was going to officially take over the clan. His parents wanted him to find someone to lead with him, and kept on not-so-subtly hinting that it should be Kirishima. If Kirishima agreed, it would also be a way to join forces with the Riot clan. Bakugou had to admit, it was a good suggestion, but way too fucking early for it. They’d only been together for four months. Bakugou did want that to happen, but that was something to think about when the time came.

 

“And here I was thinking I’d finally get someone to lead with this brat.” She sighed. “Anyway, what is it?”

 

“It’s fuckin’ important, okay?” Bakugou snapped, and Kirishima looked over to him, warning him. Mitsuki must’ve gotten the gist, because her expression changed.

 

She put down whatever she was holding, motioning for Masaru to come. The boys took a seat across from her at the usual dining table. “What is it? Is everything okay?” Masaru asked, looking to Bakugou. Bakugou let out a slow exhale, looking over to Kirishima. He intertwined their fingers under the table and squeezed his hand, smiling gently.

 

“You know Eijirou and I go out sometimes, in the middle of the night?” Bakugou started, slowly. His heart was racing, and he was squeezing Kirishima’s hand so tight that he was sure it was hurting. “‘S about that.”

 

“Your mother and I were starting to wonder about that. Though, she suggested some...not so appropriate reasons. As long as you boys are careful-” Masaru said, before Kirishima and Bakugou immediately cut him off, shaking their heads. Bakugou cursed under his breath, this was not going well.

 

“We don’t go out in the middle of the night to fuck, you perverts!” Bakugou yelled. “We go out to fly.”

 

Masaru and Mitsuki immediately went silent, their mouths falling open.

 

“Wait, fly? What do you mean?” Mitsuki asked, eyebrows drawing together.

 

Bakugou took a deep breath, and Kirishima squeezed his hand. “Mitsuki, Masaru...the thing is..”


“I’m a dragon.”

 

Bakugou’s parents’ eyes widened, and Masaru dropped his cup, it shattering. They looked at Kirishima in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, and he winced.

 

“You’re a dragon?” Masaru said, slowly. “Son, what do you mean?”

 

“He’s a shifter.” Bakugou answered. “Half-dragon. He can change into one whenever he wants.”

 

Kirishima nodded. “I have three forms, and I need to keep all three balanced. When we go out in the middle of the night, I transform into a dragon.”

 

“You’re a shifter?! But that’s unheard of! They’re washed out, i-it’s viking legend, for hell’s sake! There’s no way!” Mitsuki exclaimed, as if trying to find a reason. Masaru placed his hand on her shoulder, almost in a way to calm her down.

 

“I can show you, if that helps?” Kirishima offers, rubbing the back of his neck. Masaru looks at him, looking as if he’s about to say something, but nods.

 

Kirishima lets out of Bakugou’s hand and slowly transforms into his second form. Scales scattering down his shoulders, arm, wings slowly growing out of his back. Bakugou had seen it enough to be used to the scene, but his parents gaped in complete shock.

 

“Uh, this is my second form. It’s like a halfway, between dragon and human.” Kirishima explains. His parents didn’t say anything for a long time, still looking at Kirishima, eyes wide and jaws dropped.

 

“You…how is this possible, Eijirou?” Masaru asked gently.

 

“It was a curse put on my father, by someone who was attempting to get him killed.” Kirishima started.  “The curse was that at midnight, he’d transform into a dragon. Before then, he’d get into a form like this one, and it..well, it got passed onto me. Mum didn’t know, but Dad told me about it. The difference is that I can control it.”

 

“How long have you known about this, Katsuki?” Mitsuki asked, looking up at her son. Bakugou’s blood ran cold, he was used to sharp, loud tones from his mother, nothing like this. It was cold. Serious.

 

“I met Eijirou when he was a dragon. The fact that he was a shifter took me by surprise, too.” Bakugou mumbled.

 

“The day we found Eijirou was when he helped Katsuki take down the Bloodflame..are you telling me you are that dragon, Eijirou?” Masaru, asked, and Kirishima nodded.

 

“I didn’t exactly kill the dragon, because, well. I am that dragon. Katsuki shot me down--by accident, a while ago. That’s how I got this,” Kirishima pointed to a jagged wound on his shoulder. “He took care of me after that, though.”

“He wasn’t supposed to come fight against the League.” Bakugou continued, sighing. “He did it to protect me.”

 

Masaru and Mitsuki shared a look, muttering things under their breath that neither Bakugou or Kirishima could hear. “Katsuki, as much as we love Eijirou, if what you’re saying is true, then it’s too dangerous. If someone were to find out--”

Panic pooled in Bakugou’s chest, and he slammed his hands down on the table. “It’s been fine so far, hasn’t it? Having Eijirou has had a good impact on the clan, he’s fought every battle, he’s given us alliances with other clans, for fuck’s sake!” Bakugou paused, taking a slow breath. “Eijirou saved my life, saved the clan. Multiple fucking times, with no hesitation. I intend to return the damn favour.”

Masaru sighed. “Katsuki…”

 

Kirishima was looking at him with a mixture of thankfulness and admiration, and that gave Bakugou what he needed to continue. “I’ll take responsibility. He’ll stay with me. The only damn thing that I ask is that you let him be under the chief’s protection, until my 18th birthday comes.”

 

There was a lingering silence, and both of his parents had their eyebrows drawn together, thinking. Bakugou waited anxiously, before Masaru finally spoke. “When you put it like that, Katsuki...how can I say no? Very well. Eijirou will stay under our care, as a tribute to the numerous times he’s protected our clan. He’ll be a valued member and protector of our clan, dragon or not.”

 

Kirishima immediately beamed, letting out something that sounded like a choked sob. His grip loosened on Bakugou’s hand, and his eyes were watering. He didn’t look upset, however. He looked happy. Beyond happy. So was Bakugou. It’d all worked out, in the end. Just like he’d hoped.

 

“Thank you, Masaru. Mitsuki. I can’t possibly describe my gratefulness.” Kirishima said, bowing his head.

 

Mitsuki just smiled, putting her hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. “We’re the ones who should be thankin’ you. It’s not every day that this brat shows actual emotions. You make him happy, Eijirou.”

 

Bakugou’s face went red and he opened his mouth to say something (retaliate, maybe), but he closed it. After all, he couldn’t deny what they were saying. It was the truth.

 

“Now that that’s done, you two can go deliver some stock to a nearby clan. Be back by sundown, okay?” Masaru said, gesturing to a small box of supplies outside. They both nodded, and Kirishima bowed one last time before they both left.

 

Almost as soon as they were outside, Kirishima flung his arms around Bakugou, hugging him tight and pushing his head into his shoulder. “I’m so glad. I’m so, so glad, Katsuki.”

Bakugou went red, but he hugged Kirishima back. “Shut up. I told you I wasn’t going to let anything happen, moron.”

 

Kirishima just laughed, pulling back a little. “I know, I know. I’m just...really happy. Really, really happy.”

“I know that.” Bakugou said, looking away. “You don’t have to keep saying it, you dork.”

 

 But Kirishima just smiled, that same damn smile that made him weak in the knees all those months ago and still seems to keep doing so. He put his hand on Bakugou’s cheek, and leant in for a kiss, and Bakugou met him halfway.

 

This kiss said so much. It was a thank you, a you’re welcome, and a hello to the new beginnings yet to come.


He was red. Vibrant, screaming red as the maroon wings of Kirishima’s wings seemed to cut through air, capturing the sky itself as it soared. Scales like jewels, eyes like rubies and teeth like knives, soaring through the air. Wind cut onto Kirishima’s face, but he just smiled and retaliated with a flick of his wings, and the wind was sent flying back.

 

He was blond. Sandy, dangerous blond as Bakugou raced through the land, sword held high as he ran, conquering any enemy. Hair like spiked sand, eyes like fire and a grin ready to attack. His cape soared, and the wind tickled against his chest as his muscles pushed the viking through the landscape with a grin.

 

Kirishima looked up and followed Bakugou’s eyes to a raging fire, trickled with smoke, painting the air a dull grey hue. Terror flooded over the area like a tsunami, paralyzing the passerby’s with fear. But Bakugou smiled. He paused for a second, craning his head up to look at Kirishima, who slowly nodded his head in return and made his way down towards him. Bakugou grinned, the smile crawling across his face slowly, and in one swift motion he was up on Kirishima’s back, soaring through the clouds.

 

They flew forward, side-by-side in a destructible war and fought alongside each other, as always. Pits of smoke and fire flew from the dragon’s mouth, snaking trails of smoke and spine-tingling fire. Bakugou let out a loud battle cry and raced forward again on the Kirishima’s back, making him move faster, determined to win this battle.

 

To which they did.

 

It was no doubt that the two were the strongest among many, and their teamwork and how they worked side by side had the ability to defeat any enemy who crossed their path.

 

Kirishima took sight of his small cave underneath the stars and soared down, closing his eyes as his transformation began to take place. His beautiful wings perched themselves on a smaller, broad back, on a smaller, muscled body of a human. Eyes, still ruby-red, teeth still shark toothed, and blood-red hair that fell into twinkling eyes. His tail had gone, his wings had shrunk, but he had never felt happier as he saw Bakugou.

 

Bakugou studied Kirishima carefully, running his eyes up Kirishima’s now human body. Kirishima smiled in return, and his beaming face put the sun to shame. Bright, lively Kirishima, who craved adventure and attracted the hearts of all. Bakugou smiled, again.

 

His eyes then twinkled, returning to his aggressive nature as he returned his blade to its sheath, the metal capturing the sun and bouncing it nearby. The viking and the dragon, hand in hand like friends as the skies sung above them.

 

“That was a great battle.” Kirishima smiled, his shark-teeth twinkling. His wings were raised slightly as he breathed out heaving breaths, his body exhausted from the flight but his mind awake.

 

“They didn’t stand a chance against me.” Bakugou replied, a yellow-red fire-y attitude returned as his cloak blew slowly in the wind.

 

Kirishima laughed, and Bakugou almost had to shield his eyes as the sun beamed across his face with pure joy.

 

“I don’t doubt that, Katsuki. I missed you.” Kirishima said, and it made Bakugou’s heart soar.

 

“You have no idea, Eijirou.” Bakugou sighed with the faintest of smiles, happy to be reunited. It felt like the wind and sky itself was pushing them closer together as they sat, talking away the time.

 

They laid down now on the silk-soft grass, a slightly green tint and tickling their bodies in approval. The sun began to sleep, draping the horizon in a deep blue, flecked with twinkling stars as the night caressed the land.  Their fingers were intertwined, connecting the two as they stared up at the blue-pink galaxies and dancing lights.

 

“Thank you.” Bakugou said, completely out of the blue, and Kirishima looked to him, eyes widened.

 

“For what, Katsuki?” Kirishima said back, smiling. “It’s me who should be thanking you.”

 

“Bullshit.” Bakugou spits, shocked at how quickly he answered. “You’ve done so fucking much for me, right from the start, and I don’t fucking remember ever properly thanking you. Yet you still do the same thing, and I can’t understand it.”

“It’s simple, Katsuki.” Kirishima’s voice dropped, his tone quieter. “I do it because I love you.”

 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he turned to face Kirishima. Kirishima’s eyes were twinkling, like his very own pair of stars, and Bakugou knew just from looking at him that he meant it. Bakugou moved forward quickly, closing the gap and kissing Kirishima, hard. Kirishima let out a noise of surprise, but then melted, kissing back.

 

His lips were so soft, plump and tender, and that one touch made Kirishima fall apart piece by piece. He reached a hand to the back of Bakugou’s hair and ran his hands through it as the two kissed, feeling the rough, smoke-ridden strands of hair beneath his clawed fingers.

 

The sky exploded with colours as vibrant galaxies showed themselves, and stars beamed as soft lips met and colours mixed. Red with Blond. Sun with Night.

 

Kirishima brought up a hand to cup Bakugou’s face as they continued to kiss, lips perfectly meeting as if they were meant for each other, softly under the twinkling stars.

 

Bakugou was the first to pull away, and the moon itself let out a disappointed glare before Kirishima wrapped his arm around Bakugou,  smiling up at him.

 

“I love you too, Eijirou. I love you so fucking much.” Bakugou mumbled back, his voice quiet. This was for Kirishima to hear, and Kirishima only. “Fucking hell. Marry me, Eijirou.”

 

Kirishima’s eyes widened, and he pulled back. “Wait, what?”

 

“I’m turning 18 in a month, and I’ll be taking over the clan.” Bakugou said, and Kirishima nodded, obviously. He knew that already. “I’ll need someone by my side. I want that to be you.”

 

Kirishima’s eyes started to water and he wrapped his arms around Bakugou, holding him tight, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “Yes, yes! Always yes! Thank you!”

Bakugou ran his hand through Kirishima’s hair, pressing gentle kisses down his neck. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

 

Kirishima suddenly pulled back, and Bakugou was puzzled as he slowly took the form of a dragon once again. A beautiful, magnificent dragon with huge wings and scales like jewels, teeth like knives and the same twinkling eyes that put the stars to shame.

 

Let me show you the stars, Katsuki.

 

Bakugou shook his head, chuckling, and climbed onto Kirishima’s firm back, making himself comfortable in the familiar space.

 

They soared.

 

High among the stars, the sky, the night. The sun had gone to rest and the darkness of the night had taken over, painting the sky in blue-black and twinkling stars that shone brighter than the sun amongst clouds. As they soared, they could almost touch the candy-floss clouds, they could feel the gentle breeze of the night. The moon seemed so close as they cut through the sky, capturing colours and mixing them in a beautiful, coloured night. Wings cut through night like paper as Bakugou let out a cry of joy, beaming with happiness.  Jewel-like scales twinkled in the twilight as the sky opened up for them, leaving a trail of stars following the magnificent wings.

 

And through all of the night, they soared.


 

 

 


If you can crawl,
Then you can stand up!
Been through it all,
I've been up and down and up again.

 

If you can crawl,
Then keep your head up!
Just keep painting those walls
A brighter shade of red and gold.