#lime.writes

[limesicle]

For @vashwoodweek Day 1: Soulmate AU / Smoke / "Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story." - Richard Siken

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Ashes to Ashes | Ch 1 of 2 | 2176 words

Ao3: link

Rating: T

Tags: soulmate AU, reincarnation AU

Warnings: swearing, character death, tristamp spoilers

[limesicle]

Leviathan (the legacy of an angel)

Ao3: link

Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood

Completed one-shot, 6.2k words

Rating: M (but just barely)

Warnings: implied MCD (pls, you know who it is), general blood, implied sexy times, swearing

Summary:

Do you believe in God? Everyone has a cross to bear. Wolfwood’s is more literal than most.

Or, a few moments in the lives of Wolfwood and Vash.

Excerpt:

Wolfwood sees messy blond hair and a bright red coat, and something tells him, now you’ve done it, Nicholas D. Wolfwood. There he is—your reason for living. Maybe that’s the voice of God. Maybe he’s just going insane. Is there a difference? In the end? 

[limesicle]

Look Sharp | Ch 6: Shut Up and Dance

Ao3: link

Pairing: BKDK

Chapter 6 of ?

Rating: T (for now)

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Fic Summary:

Katsuki always goes home for a bit during the winter holidays, but when his mother was teasing him about being single for the holidays every year, he lied and said he had a boyfriend. So, of course, she demanded Katsuki bring said boyfriend to visit. With Eijirou dating Denki and Hanta being the token straight and Mina being–well–not a boy, he’s in a bind. That is, until his male and possibly gay childhood friend returns from America just in time.

Fake dating AU? Fake dating AU.

Chapter Summary:

It’s time for the first party.

[limesicle]

15 bakudeku? ^-^

Sorry for the delay! I’m bad at this;;;;; From this list of prompts, which are still open, although I may take a while.

Words: 654

Rating: T (I guess…)

The dorm is quiet afterward. No one is missing, but loss is painted clearly across their features. Across the room, he sees Izuku with his usual group, but the usual laughter is absent. Izuku’s eyes are downcast, but there’s a forced smile on his lips, though only half of it is visible because of the gauze on his cheek. As per usual, he has more bandages than skin once the medics are done with him. At least he’s still standing. At least there’s no permanent damage this time.

Katsuki watches him sit up straighter and try to get the others to laugh. Uraraka is trying, too. Her voice is quieter than usual, and there’s something strained in her smile. Todoroki, perched on the arm of the couch where the others sit, stares off into space. He’s quieter than usual. Iida breaks away from the Izuku’s group to check on the rest of class A.

In a few minutes, Iida has ensured that everyone has a cup of tea in their hands. He forces one on Katsuki, too, with a comment on the medicinal qualities of tea and thinly-veiled concern. What a mom, Katsuki thinks (with absolutely no hint of affection, of course, because Katsuki still insists that he doesn’t need anyone else).

Even the idiots in his immediate vicinity are quieter than usual. Denki still makes an effort, talking about enough useless shit that Jirou turns around in her seat next to Momo just to tell him to shut up. There’s a hint of relief in her eyes, though.

By the time the group separates to go to bed, there have been a few laughs and the air feels lighter. As Eijirou and Denki head toward the door, they shove Katsuki in Izuku’s direction (he makes a mental note to get back at them later). It’s just his luck that Izuku tries to dodge in the wrong direction. Katsuki’s reflexes are quick enough to stop them from falling to the floor. Izuku stares at the arm around his waist.

“Ah, sorry, Kacchan,” he says, slipping out of his grasp too hastily. He nearly ends up falling again.

“Shut the hell up.” It’s an automatic reply, although it’s harsher than Katsuki meant it to be.

Izuku doesn’t seem to take it personally, launching into something about unimportant hero news instead of telling him to shut up in return. It’s not unusual for Izuku to dump large amounts of information like this, but there’s kind of a desperation to it. Like if he stops talking, he’ll have to deal with something painful.

“Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not,” Katsuki says, interrupting the useless barrage of words.

Izuku stops short, mouth still open. His jaw snaps shut, and he glances down, looking uncomfortable. “I’m fine.”

What a liar.

“No you’re not,” Katsuki says. “You don’t have to talk about it, squishy shit disgusts me anyway, but—”

Izuku snorts.

“Oi.”

“Thanks for worrying about me.” Izuku blinks at him, lip trembling slightly. He looks less burdened than he did before, and that’s something.

“Who the fuck is worried?” Katsuki mutters.

Despite what he says, he lets Izuku step into his arms. His own heartbeat is loud in his ears. The room around them is silent, and the lights are low—someone must have dimmed them as they left. Izuku is warm against him. And Katsuki can feel his hands settle somewhere around his lower back.

“I couldn’t save them,” Izuku murmurs.

Katsuki hms in acknowledgement, and his grip around Izuku’s shoulders tightens. “You can’t save everyone.”

I should be able to remains unsaid. So does I should have gotten there faster and I should be stronger.

“We’ll get better,” Izuku promises.

“I’ll still be better than you,” Katsuki says.

Izuku breaks away and punches him in the shoulder, but there’s a smile on his face—a real one, this time. They’re okay, Katsuki thinks. It’ll be okay.

[limesicle]

5 times Haiji didn't cry and 1 time he did

Ao3: link

Chapter: 1 of 1

Words: 2954

Pairing: Kakeru x Haiji (KazeTsuyo) 

Rating: T

Tags/notes: angst, injury mentions. I didn’t read the source material so idk that much about backstory whoops. Also, not super /shippy/ but I mean Haiji looks at Kakeru like he’s worth more than the entire solar system from day one sooo

Summary: Title says it all.

=======

The first time is when he realizes his body is breaking.

His father pushes him to train, and he pushes himself. Again. Again. Until he can feel his joints that are hardly a decade and a half old start to pull apart. His tendons strain to bind him together. His veins pump equal parts oxygen and agony.

Haiji looks around the team. At the other boys, legs free of braces, shoulders free of the weight of having his father be coach. Most of the time, he clenches his teeth and does what he needs to do. He looks at the team and sees some looks of pity, some of contempt. He hears the doctors warning him that if he keeps going, he won’t be able to walk by the time he’s thirty, but he can’t listen to them—he can’t quit yet. All he has ever known is running. (He squashes down the fear that it’s all he’s good at.)

He misses practice. Once. Twice. Then three days in a row because the inflammation is so bad he can barely crawl to the door of his bedroom.

It’s worse when he gets back—the looks of pity, the looks that seem like they’re just waiting for him to fall. And then there’s Fujioka, who still looks at him like he can make a comeback—like he’s more than broken pieces held together by fraying threads–like he’s strong, when he’s just too weak to show the world he’s breaking.

The second time is at the end of high school.

Fujioka wants him to go to Rikudo instead of Kansei. Haiji knows there’s a part of him that wants to follow Fujioka, that believes in miracles and happy endings. He could let a dream like that seduce him, but he won’t. He made his choice.

Haiji stands in the middle of the path. Fujioka is a step or two behind him. He can feel the barest hint of late afternoon sun setting, and the breeze that lifts his hair reminds him of what running feels like. For a moment, he closes his eyes against the dimming light and thinks of miracles. Then he thinks of the way his leg is shaking even when he’s only standing still. And all the reasons he made his decision in the first place.

His lip trembles, but he turns to Fujioka with a smile and shuts the door on a future he doesn’t dare to dream of. I’m not strong, he says and wonders if someone who has never been anything else has a chance at understanding.

The third time is after surgery.

By now you’d think he would be used to it. For years he hasn’t been able to take as much as a single step without the pain reminding him that he isn’t whole.

But he’s not used to it.

Haiji clenches his teeth and carefully does the exercises the physical therapists describe. He tries not to get frustrated at the days and weeks of months of sitting still. But every time he fails to take a step, every time he hits the floor for trying too hard, every time his body screams in agony as it strains to meet his demands, it gets harder to keep the tears from his eyes.

As he sits on the floor, head bent to rest between his knees, arms clenched around his body, he learns to regulate his breathing again. Steady his heartbeat. His body learns that growth takes patience and not just hard work. His mind learns to fill the empty hours with his university work.

And there’s a new dream brewing. Something that comes from deep inside his soul.

It’s then that he decides on Hakone, and the fire that’s been long gone from his eyes starts to return.

Hakone.

Because he can’t run, he throws himself into researching and planning. He finds the people he needs one by one. He gathers them until they’re just one person short.

And then, as if by red strings or the winds of fate and things he didn’t used to believe in, Haiji finds him. Number ten. He sees salvation in the way a petty thief runs away from the convenience store.

Kurahara Kakeru is a name he recognizes, because he spent the past years scanning through anything related to running—high school, college, or otherwise. Kakeru runs by, and the breeze that follows causes his heart to skip a beat. He feels the touch of the wind god, Fujin, in that breeze and sees the wings of Hermes on his heels.

Hours later he can still see Kakeru running. Kakeru is a shooting star and his feet light the path that Haiji has so desperately been trying to follow. He has dreamed of the Hakone Ekiden for years, and for the first time, he can see exactly how he’ll get there.

It’s not easy to get Kakeru, or anyone else, really, to agree to his plan. But in each one of them, he knows there’s a soul that wants to run. He just needs to find it. As he struggles to get them to agree—one by one—and struggles to get them to get along, to train, to run, he realizes that maybe he’s not so weak anymore.

At first, he finds himself turning to Kakeru, because he’s the most experienced runner on the team—other than himself. And then he finds himself turning to Kakeru just because he can. Kakeru who is blunt and stubborn and selfish in ways he probably doesn’t understand. Kakeru who runs on a path of starlight. Kakeru who is honestly brusque and righteously short-tempered and awkwardly charming.

Haiji finds himself as the team comes together as a team—watching each one of them find their own path to run. He is still looking for an answer for why he runs. How can he love a sport that breaks his body and wears down his mental stamina? It’s exhausting and infuriating and each step along the path is a battle. Sometimes he wonders. Sometimes he thinks he settles into the pace of his feet against the track and thinks he already knows.

The fourth time is the moment Prince finishes his race just fast enough to let them go to the qualifier.

They have a chance. It’s a dream that is four years in the making, and they’re still only at the start line. But they’ve earned the right to try.

Fujioka stands by his side. Steady in his presence and solid as always. Their paths are different now, but he always did love running with Fujioka at his side.

This time, his lip trembles, and he takes an extra minute to make his way to the rest of the team.

The fifth time is when they qualify.

The race is crowded with people trying to win, showing months or years of hard work in their steps. As they move forward, they spread out, finding their own pace within the pack. Haiji runs beside Kakeru near the front. He waits until the right time, and then with a tap on the back, he tells Kakeru to fly.

The mess by the water tables is unexpected, but he makes it by. He feels a shift in his leg as he lands and nearly stumbles the next step. As he runs, all he can think is don’t break, don’t break. He finishes the race thanking his body for holding out. Kakeru isn’t far from the finish line. As the minutes tick by, the rest of the team joins them until only Prince is left.

And then the race is over. And they wait to hear which schools made it. With each school announced, the tension rises. By nine, the pressure is so high he can barely think. Haiji stands with the men he’s spent the past ten months making into a track team, and waits as they all hold one collective breath. And then ten is announced.

Kansei University.

It’s another goal passed. The finish line is almost within sight. His heart soars, full the bursting point with happiness. He turns to share this elation with the team and catches just a glimpse of Shindo sobbing into Musa(also sobbing)’s shoulder, the twins piling onto Nico-chan, King unplugging his ears with disbelief written across his face, and—Kakeru fills his field of view, blue-gray eyes practically glowing. For a moment, they stare at each other, hearts beating to the same tune of joy. Haiji leaps forward, ignoring a twinge in his right knee and any doubts he would usually have about jumping into Kakeru’s arms.

(The one time.)

They train hard in the time they have before New Year’s. They deal with the twins’ doubts and struggle with the limited time. Haiji spends more time in the hospital than he has in a while, checking and double checking. He still thinks of himself as broken pieces and wonders if the glue holding him together now is just as weak as it was before. He thinks of four years of planning and doubts that it was enough.

Haiji silences thoughts about himself and turns instead to thinking about the team. (He still wonders what he’s running for, too). He offers encouragement where he can, support where needed, and a reminder or two that rest is important.

And then the day comes.

The first day is difficult. Prince starts them out well, and Musa follows up. But then there’s the drama with the twins and romance of all things. In the middle of a race. Haiji ignores the temptation to say a variety of things to instill fear into their souls instead of sparkles and hearts. Instead, he opts for a gentler approach.

Kakeru, sitting next to him in the car, doesn’t seem surprised at all. When asked, he mentions something about Musa, dark baths, and Hana-chan. He says it with flush darkening his cheeks and his eyes dart away from Haiji’s. Haiji lets himself be distracted for a moment. And then he turns some of the things he thought of directing at the twins toward himself.

Shindo’s section of the race is the most difficult to watch. Haiji watches him stumble and stand again a hundred times. If Shindo stopped, Haiji wouldn’t blame him, but there’s a part of his soul that’s begging him to keep going. It’s selfish, he knows, but a part of him needs this race—to heal, to move on. So he watches the screen, hands stiff with tension, and tries not to let the guilt set in.

The vice grip around his chest eases a little once Shindo is done with his section and back inside. Be shares a look of reassurance with Kakeru, as they finish pulling the blankets up around the figure of their now-sleeping teammate. Yuki hangs back just a moment. Haiji reads a kind of frustration and guilt in his expression. After a moment of thought, he steps out of the room pulling Kakeru with him.

The rest of the evening passes relatively uneventfully. Kakeru passes in and out of sight. Shindo wakes before too long and they videochat the rest of the team. It’s not the same as physically being in the same place, but there’s a kind of peace that comes with unity, even if it comes in the middle of a race.

As he tries to sleep, he can feel a ringing in his bones, the sound of something that’s not quite in the right place. His knee doesn’t hurt—not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. In the morning, he wakes with a start, shaking off the tendrils of dreams of times past. His doctor arrives bright and early, right on time. He can see the sense of resignation in the man’s eyes—a sense of something that’s almost pity. Haiji watches silently as the doctor gives his old injury one last check and hands him the painkillers.

He doesn’t expect anyone to have noticed the doctor, but perhaps he should have. Kakeru’s voice, in particular, is loud. Worried. Haiji tells them about the visit and assures them that painkillers are just in case. Kakeru’s eyes settle on his own. Haiji sees a kind of acceptance there—it’s different than the doctor’s resigned worry. He’s not sure if he’s reading more into Kakeru’s expression than he should, but to him he sees a look that speaks understanding.

As the race begins again, the knot of anxiety in his stomach tightens. It’s the second and last day. It’s the day the race ends. It’s the day his dream ends. It’s a day of endings. There’s an unsteadiness in his chest as he watches Yuki head down the slope, snow swirling in the background. Yuki flies down the mountain like a blizzard.

He watches Nico-chan senpai and King. He shares a short phone call with Kakeru, wondering what Fujioka could have said to make him sound like that. In the end, all Haiji can think of is the truth. The adrenaline of the day is already pumping through his veins, but his heart picks up a notch. To me, you are the greatest runner. (He only finds out from Joji later, much, much later that Kakeru says he’s in love after hanging up.)

When he watches Kakeru run, even just within the confines of his phone screen, he sees starlight like he always does. But this time, he sees something else too. There’s an air of tranquility. There isn’t a smile on his face, but Kakeru looks content, like he’s glowing with the kind of radiance that can only come from inside.

It isn’t long before he stands at the relay point. Waiting. His heart picks up its pace. The painkillers in his bloodstream silence any inklings of pain. He takes a deep breath in. It’s almost over. He exhales and Kakeru comes into view, the glow in his eyes a hundred times brighter than it was from the screen.

Kakeru runs, and he looks like something heaven sent. His form is beautiful and his speed is hardly human. Haiji blinks and he can almost see wings sprout from his back. (It doesn’t take him long to learn that Kakeru broke the record Fujioka set only eleven minutes prior.)

When Kakeru passes him the sash, he doesn’t say a word aloud but the smile on his face says enough. He passes Haiji the sash, and with it a wish of good luck. The sash is warm from Kakeru’s hands, and it feels heavier than just a piece of cloth. It’s the weight of the hopes of the other nine. But it doesn’t feel like weight. It feels like wings.

Haiji runs knowing this is the last time. He knows his body well enough, by now. He has heard the doctors tell him again and again that it’s only a matter of time. But as he runs, his chest feels light. It’s the final stretch of his dream. He only has a few more minutes left before he wakes, and it flies by. Even as he pushes his body toward the breaking point, he feels complete. Haiji runs toward the finish line. His broken pieces have been put back together and bound with veins of gold. He is whole. For the first time since long ago, he feels whole. And as Kakeru’s face comes into view once more, he knows why.

He smiles as he hurls himself forward. His leg is done for, and there’s some kind of comfort in knowing there’s no way to save it now. Even with the painkillers, his tendons are screaming in agony. He can feel the grinding of gears that no longer fit being forced to work. And yet he runs with a smile on his face. Runs straight forward, right across the finish line. Forward, forward, because he has finished one dream, but he sees the future in front of him—in the starlight at Kakeru’s feet, in the worried lines of his brow, in his arms that steady him as he finally comes to a halt.

It seems like mere instants. It seems like hours. The time he spends clinging to Kakeru passes in a whirlwind of emotion. There’s the elation of having finished the race. He had expected to be lost after he crossed the finish line, but he has never felt more at home than he does huddled against the cold pavement. His leg that he spent so many hours of torture to run with once again is in pieces, yet he has never felt more complete.

Tears sting the corners of his eyes. He blinks the first few back, but Kakeru murmurs you’re strong and you’re my reason for running within the same short breath, and the rest can’t be stopped.

Bonus:

The way home is long, and he spends most of it next to Kakeru. They’re all exhausted by the time the doors of Aotake are in sight once more. Nira greets them with an enthusiastic bark, and the most any of them can muster is a smile and a couple pats on the head. The building that’s usually bustling with activity during waking hours is quiet as they make they’re way to bed.

Kakeru dutifully brings Haiji to his room, unhooking his arm from around his shoulder as they reach the door. He mutters something about an ice pack and hurries out of sight. He appears again a minute later, this time with an ice pack in hand. Even after handing it to Haiji, he hesitates, making it obvious with his body language that he doesn’t want to leave. After a moment, Haiji takes pity on him. The door swings shut behind the two of them.

[limesicle]

Todokami with 34?

Thank you for the request! I don’t think I’ve written todokami before, so hopefully this is okay;;;;;; Prompts are still open (for bnha or otherwise) ^^

Oh yeah, it’s established relationship~ 

Words: 387

Rating: T————-

Kaminari wakes at the second tap on his door. He lies still for a another moment, listening carefully for evidence that the tapping noise wasn’t just a remnant of a dream. Tap, tap, it comes again. He glances at the alarm clock next to his bed. It’s all of 4 am. With a sigh, he rolls out of bed, bringing his blanket with him as he tiptoes toward the door wondering who or what on earth is rousing him at this ungodly hour of the day.

The door squeaks slightly as he pulls it open. The hall is dark save for the emergency light that glows a soft red at the end of the hallway. Kaminari freezes when he realizes there’s someone standing in front of him. Who the heck? He sparks his quirk with the hand that isn’t holding the door open.

“To-todoroki???” He squeaks when a hand encircles his wrist and Todoroki’s low voice shushes him.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Todoroki mumbles, already stepping through the doorway.

Both inside the dorm room, Kaminari lets the door swing shut. For a moment, he hesitates to speak, biting his lip as his tired brain tries to form a coherent sentence.

“Why are you here?” Kaminari asks. “I mean—not that I don’t like seeing you, but I also really like sleep.”

“I…” Todoroki trails off, sounding vaguely apologetic. “Can we cuddle?”

“You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” Kaminari asks, accidentally letting his voice rise a few decibels louder than he should.

The hand around Kaminari’s wrist drops. “I can go.”

“No, no! It’s just—” he gestures vaguely, although the movement goes largely unseen in the darkness. “Bed,” he says, finding Todoroki’s hands with both of his own.

Kaminari finds his way across the familiar floor without much trouble. His feet halt when his knees run into the bedframe, and he takes a seat, pulling Todoroki with him. They sit for a moment, and in the pause, Kaminari notices that Todoroki’s hands are clammy.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

The answer comes after a few moments. “I am now.”

The bed shifts as Todoroki lies down. “We should sleep,” he says simply.

Kaminari agrees with a quiet hum, nestling into the little space left between Todoroki and the edge of the bed.

[limesicle]

This isn’t even from a WIP, this is just some random ktdk crap that happened while I was trying to work on something else:

“You noticed, haven't you?” Izuku asks.

The TV flickers off, and Katsuki states at the empty black surface. In the dim light, he can only see a vague reflection, but it’s enough to see how close they are.

“Noticed what?”

Izuku leans against him with a little more weight. “This,” he says. “I had my head on your shoulder for the entirety of a two-hour movie.”

“So?”

Izuku sighs, sounding somewhat exasperated. “So...I think of cuddling while watching a movie as more of a couple thing, than a friend thing.”

“This is hardly cuddling you loser.”

“What—”

Katsuki pulls Izuku closer with one arm around his waist until his chest presses against Izuku's shoulder blades.

“Or have you never done this before, nerd?”

Izuku squirms slightly. “Kacchan…”

“Hm?”

“I’m being serious.”

Katsuki adds his other arm around Izuku’s waist. “What makes you think I’m joking?”

An instant of silence slips by before Izuku does anything more than breathe.

“I’m saying I like you.”

“And what—do you think I hate you?”

[limesicle]

for a quiet moment

Ao3: link

Chapter: 1 of 1

Words: 2,120

Pairing: Keith x Lance (can be read as platonic tho, I think)

Rating: G

Tags: post season 6, soft moments

Summary:

They’re all exhausted that night — after the whole thing with Lotor and Shiro coming back from the dead. But Keith can’t sleep. He finds himself tiptoeing around his mother’s sleeping figure and over Shiro’s to get out of the Black Lion. He finds himself going to Red.

Excerpt:

He hears quiet footsteps come from inside the Red Lion and freezes. That has to be Lance. The only person it could possibly be is Lance. And Keith isn’t sure how to face him. He wants to talk to Lance. He wants to be friends. He wants to reach whatever warmth they had between them before he left the team again, but he doesn’t know how.

For once, Lance is silent. For once, Keith wishes he was louder.

[limesicle]

About Kacchan

lowkey a sequel to For the Future

Ao3: link

Words: 2,234

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku (kinda)

Rating: T

Tags: Character death, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, angst, guilt

Summary:

In which Izuku will never turn fifteen. In which Katsuki shoulders the dream that should have been shared. In which Katsuki never even tries to forgive himself.

Excerpt:

He looks at the notebook in her hands. It’s another of those damned notebooks. It’s almost identical to the one that bears burns from his explosions—the one that he keeps on a shelf in his bedroom and never opens. This one is unmarred by burns. The cover doesn’t bear the number thirteen and for the future.

It bears something worse. About Kacchan.

The handwriting is unmistakably Izuku’s, and the title— Kacchan. He would knock out anyone else who dared to call him that. Had.

[limesicle]

From a katsudeku wip... 

He doesn’t remember telling his parents he was gay–more because he didn’t want to think about being in love with his childhood friend than anything else. But still, they shouldn’t fucking know that.

“Why the hell are you assuming my sexuality?” He asks.

Mitsuki raises an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t shut up about how you were going to marry Izuku someday when you were six–the way you look at him hasn’t changed a lot since then.”

Katsuki resists the urge to cover his face with his hands though he knows his cheeks are burning. He should not have asked.

[limesicle]

Golden

Ao3: link

Words: 2,210

Pairing: Katsuki x Izuku

Rating: T (for Kacchan’s vocabulary)

Tags: New Year’s fluff, idiocy, confessions, Kirishima is a good friend, drinking (their ages aren’t specified, but I was thinking last year of high school, which would make them underage for drinking)

Summary:

There’s a New Year’s party courtesy of Momo and her big house and alcohol courtesy of anonymous sources. In which Katsuki is much more of clingy drunk than anyone would have expected, as evidenced by the photos in the group chat, Kirishima takes drastic measures, and Izuku starts asking the right questions.

Excerpt:

“He’s so fucking dead,” Katsuki hisses, still facing the door.

“I’m sure he means well–”

“Shut the fuck up, Deku, you don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Izuku looks down. Being locked alone in a room with Katsuki would be awkward enough, even without his mind replaying the last few seconds to midnight. He folds his hands together and stares at the points where his fingers intersect. For his own safety and sanity he should probably stay quiet for the next twenty minutes until Kirishima comes to let them out. On the other hand, he’s been given an opportunity to talk to Katsuki, or rather, try to, without interruption and without fear of being overheard.

“Kacchan–”

“What part of ‘shut the fuck up’ do you not understand?”

Izuku swallows nervously. Continuing to ask Katsuki is like poking a wounded tiger–a bad idea–, but he does want to know. He knows he’s good at figuring out the reasons for things, but after dwelling on it for almost an hour, he still has no clue why Katsuki chose to cling to him.

[limesicle]

Let the Petals Fall

AO3: link

Words: 4,833

Pairing: Katsuki x Izuku

Tags: Hanahaki AU, blood/injury, angst

Excerpt:

Katsuki knows enough to recognize the signs. The pains in his chest start appearing a few times a day. None of them are bad enough to bother him, but he knows. He knows. He is a few days from entering UA when it starts, but he squishes down the worry and the feelings he doesn’t want to examine. Katsuki hides the intermittent pain, never hesitating in a fight or in the middle of a sentence as he talks to Kirishima but sees green hair in the periphery of his vision.

The day of their first practical exercises begins, and he’s teamed up with Izuku–Izuku, of all people. At the same time he thinks, of course it’s Deku. It’s always Deku. Katsuki attributes the fire burning in his veins to rage and his desire to be stronger and to win. When the exercise is over, he coughs up the first petal in the bathroom. It’s a tiny bright green petal, curved gently and symmetric. The edges almost blend to yellow. Katsuki flushes it down the toilet.