Work Text:
Shouta’s back twitched, mind refusing to focus on Iida and Sero’s fight. They were outside with no obstacles, so Sero had nothing to slingshot off, but he was doing decently well using his tape as a trip line to keep Iida cautious about his quirk use.
The match continued for almost three full minutes before Iida managed to outmanoeuvre Sero and take him down.
“Good work both of you.” He called from his spot leaning against the wall. “Sero, you adapted your usual moves for the different terrain. Iida, you used your endurance to your advantage.”
He was about ready to call the next pair up to spar as the ring was cleared, but the sound of a door opening and then thumping shut made him pause, pushing off the wall.
There were a few moments of stillness, and then a light red fog drifted around the corner, almost lazily curling towards him.
Shouta avoided flinching by sheer will, breathe whooshing out of him.
The red reached him, and the first breath of it filled his mind with static and his lungs with syrupy rose. He dug his fingers into his thigh and covered the edge of panic in his voice with a well practised veneer of calm. “Class, respirators on and keep quiet. Do not speak unless spoken to, especially if- nevermind. Am I clear?”
His class nodded, and began to pull their masks on. He didn’t stop to let himself contemplate what would happen if his students weren’t in costume, if they got-
Shouta twisted his arm in a truly uncomfortable angle, gripping the inside of the back of his shirt. He shifted slightly, fingers grasping for the press studs he knew were installed. Eventually he gave up, grabbing the centre of the hidden panel and yanked down, studs snapping apart as the panel flipped down.
He got his hand out and his costume righted just as someone swanned around the corner, coming to a stop in front of him.
She was pretty, inhumanly so. Her bright red hair tumbled over her shoulder in perfect curls, her amber eyes complemented by warm-toned makeup and dark orange gems at her ears and throat.
The dress she wore was floaty and low cut and utterly impractical for the early spring weather. It was also completely backless, but that at least was justified, given her wings. Her wings were transparent, with bright orange veining out from her back to about half way across each wing.
Up in his office, Nedzu stared at the camera footage for a moment, then pulled up an image of a flame skimmer dragonfly on a separate screen, and hummed thoughtfully to himself.
Despite her bright beauty, the woman’s face was harsh, and more than a few of 1A recoiled at her vicious expression. Aizawa though, didn’t even blink, keeping his gaze firmly off her wings.
“Why are you here, Arin?”
The woman’s anger vanished in an instant, and she grinned easily. “Can’t I just visit you? Must there be a ‘reason’ for it?”
“Yes.”
Arin sighed, grin never shifting. “You know me so well, Viri. I need a favour.”
“You think I’d do anything for you?” Shouta felt his back ripple and itch, but he ignored it, focusing on the building anger in his gut instead.
Arin laughed, wings fluttering behind her. “Of course not, you hate me so much I’d never in a million years think you’d willingly help.” The viciousness from before melted into her smile like honey. “But for this, I hardly need you willing.”
Shouta’s eyes widened, and he half turned when he felt the air behind him displace. That turned out to be a good idea, because the knife that was aimed for his spinal cord sliced across his side instead.
Shouta grinned, eyes dark in a way his students had never seen. “Can’t aim well when they’re under, can they Firecracker? All that work you went to, to catch one of my friends for your little plan, and it didn’t even work. So disappointing to end up with just this tiny cut.” He said, gesturing to his side.
As soon as he saw the cut, though, his entire demeanour changed. It was bleeding red, but the raw skin was shiny and tight like it had been burned. He spun around to stare at Yamada, or, more accurately, the blade he held.
“Silver?” Shouta felt the well of disgust he held for Arin grow larger. He didn’t let himself falter though, flicking the end of his capture weapon around the blade and vaulting it out of Hizashi’s grip and into the trees beyond the training ground. He turned back to Arin, now eyeing her wings in distaste. “Figures one of you would kill with silver.”
Arin bristled, eyes narrowing. “Well at least I don’t hide my fucking wings, Locust. Bet yours are as much of an embarrassment to your swarm as you are.” She faked surprise. “Oh wait, you don’t have one!”
Shouta let out a bitter laugh, hand creeping up to hold his side. “Didn’t fucking need them. Left as soon as it was official.”
“As soon as what was official? Your disowning?”
Shouta smirked, slow and syrupy sweet. “Oh I’d been disowned already. No, I’m referring to my marrying Angel.”
1A erupted into pandemonium, but Arin just tilted her head slightly. “Interesting. Does this ‘Angel’ know your wings are as boring as you or has she never seen them either?”
Shouta felt the itch in his back increase and he welcomed it, feeling flesh give under the writhing force of his wings. They emerged from the slits in the back of his shirt, glossy green forewings vibrating to shake the bloody streaks off.
“Angel’s seen my wings many times, but I suppose you can see them too, since you’re so curious.”
He turned partially, so he was visible to both his class and Hizashi, and flared his wings properly, to show off the colours that were normally hidden. While Arin was distracted (and her sightline was blocked by his wings), he signed to Yaoyorozu, instructing her to make a gas mask for Hizashi and make sure he put it on, preferably without Arin noticing. Yaoyorozu nodded resolutely, so he kept his wings open and returned to facing Arin.
“Pretty, aren’t they?” He drawled, every inch of him oozing ‘vain fae’. “The black spots make the blue ever so much more vibrant, and of course my red matches Angel’s just perfectly. You agree, don’t you?”
Arin stared at his wings, expression nestled uncomfortably between shock, anger, and jealousy. “Well- I’ve hardly seen this ‘Angel’, how would I know what her wings look like?”
“Arin you’ve absolutely met it.”
The woman opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted.
“Sensei there’s someone flying over us!” behind the muffle of the gas mask, Shouta couldn’t tell who was speaking, but it didn’t matter.
There was, in fact, someone flying over them. Or perhaps more accurately, someone flying at them.
Said person flew down to land right in front of Shouta, transparent wings fluttering to a stop. “Viridian why do I smell blood?”
“Lady Skimmer had me stabbed with a silvered blade. It’s somewhere in the forest now.” Shouta responded, gesturing to his side. The gash had scabbed over, but his shirt was soaked in blood.
The newcomer’s eyes flashed, and it turned to Arin, who had knelt upon its arrival. “Lady Skimmer, do you admit to this?”
Arin stood, wings flared proudly. “I do, Princess Glasswing. I sought to clear this world of the plague his kind brings.”
The Princess just thinks for a moment, then turns back to Shouta. “Ask one of your nymphs to go and retrieve the blade, please.”
“No.”
Arin gapes at him, and Glasswing sighs. “Shouta.”
“Sylvia.” He returns, matching its tone. “You can’t kill her.”
Sylvia goes to dispute, but he grabs its arm, pulling it close. “Sylvie, you need to do this properly. You’re in enough shit because you won’t show me off, don’t push The Courts.” He whispered.
“I own The Courts, they can’t do anything to me without dooming themselves.” It snapped back.
The pair stared at each other for a tense few seconds, before Sylvia gave in, leaning its head against Shouta’s chest. “I hate you.”
“Sure thing, Angel.” He murmured, sighing in contentment as Sylvia began to heal his silverburn.
“Lady Glasswing, it’s incredibly inappropriate for you to interact with the Locust in such a manner. I understand that we’re not at Court, but we’re still-”
Sylvia rolled its shoulders back, wings fluttering agitatedly. “Not only are we not at court, Skimmer, but I’m also married to him, so I don’t much care for your opinion on how and when I touch him.” It shot a venomous glare at the other fae. “And regardless, I’m currently healing the slash wound and silverburn you caused him, so I’d recommend you stay quiet.” It looked at its husband consideringly for a moment. “And he’s not ‘Locust’, he’s the Lord Aposema.”
“What the fuck?” Arin blurted out. “He’s supposedly married into the Glasswings, and now he’s lord of a house he’s got no connection to?”
“Angel could never marry less than noble, and the Aposema’s recently lost their nymphs so it was a… tidy solution.”
Sylvia raises a hand, and a deep red dust seems to melt into existence in its palm. it throws the dust behind it and flaps its wings, sending it flooding directly at Arin, who tries valiantly to avoid it, before eventually inhaling and falling into a charmed sleep.
“Now that Arin’s out, Hizashi should be waking up soon, right?” Shouta asks.
Sylvia nods. “Yes, any moment now. He won’t remember much, so you might want to put your wings away.”
Shouta shakes his head pointing at the underside of the gutter. “It’s on camera, hiding’s over.”
Sylvia smiles and nods, reaching over to pull Arin off the ground. “I’m going to find the blade and leave. I love you.”
“Love you too Angel.”