Archive of Our Own

It was clear the warrior was skilled. One look at the motionless dragon, sprawled amidst the trampled grass and broken branches, would convince any passing villager it was dead. Its shimmering scales, once brilliant like polished rubies, were dulled with grime and streaked with dried blood. A jagged scar marred its massive flank, a stark reminder of the battle it had barely survived.

Seeing such a mystical creature — an embodiment of legends and untamed power — brought so low felt like an affront to nature itself. Izuku couldn’t shake the weight in his chest as he stood there, frozen between awe and dread. It wasn’t right, this desecration of something so ancient and sacred. The village's demands echoed in his mind, harsh and unrelenting. He knew why they had summoned him. He knew what had to be done.

The dragon’s shallow breathing was the only sound in the clearing, a faint rasp that seemed to struggle against the stillness of the dawn. Its massive chest rose and fell weakly, stirring the scattered leaves beneath it. Izuku’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade, the cold metal biting into his palm as if urging him forward.

And yet, he hesitated.

In the stories, dragons were always the villains— hoarders of gold, destroyers of villages, beasts that needed slaying to restore balance. But standing here now, before this wounded creature, Izuku couldn’t see the monster they described. He saw pain, vulnerability, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

The faintest flicker of golden light sparked in the dragon’s half-closed eye, and for a moment, Izuku thought he saw it watching him. Not with malice or anger, but with quiet acceptance.

A life as long and storied as his came with countless firsts. The first time music filled his soul, how he wept simply from the sound of a piano. The first time he laid eyes on his childhood hero, and first day working with him up close. The first time he had to watch his best friend die.  

And now, standing before him, was another first. the first time he’d ever seen a dragon. It was beautiful in a way that caught his breath, raw and untamed, and for a fleeting moment, he felt like crying.

Exploring the dragon’s lair had revealed much to the elf— more than he had anticipated. The dragon's hoard was vast, filled with treasures that whispered of distant lands and forgotten eras. There were shimmering gemstones, masterful works of art, and bolts of fabric dyed in the most vivid and expensive hues he had ever seen. The collection wasn’t just wealth; it was a testament to the dragon’s intelligence, and its ability to appreciate beauty and craft.

A loud, ragged breath from the dragon broke his reverie, pulling him back to the present. Right. It was still suffering.

The decision had been made long before this journey, even before accepting the village's plea to slay the dragon that occasionally disturbed their peace. Somewhere deep inside, he’d known he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Not like this.

Now, all that remained was the hope that among his many books, one might hold even a scrap of knowledge about caring for a creature as large — and as extraordinary — as this.

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The elf, too,  was a skilled, he didn't doubt that fact about himself. having dedicated centuries of his lifetime to learning about how to fight, how to endure, and how to survive. But above all, he had learned that brute strength alone could not save the world. People — creatures — needed something far more important: knowledge. 

As time passed and literacy spread, humans began to create the most beautiful things—stories, music, art that captured the essence of their fleeting lives. It was fascinating to witness. Izuku had seen generations rise and fall, their legacies etched into time like fragile brushstrokes on canvas. Perhaps it was inevitable that he, with his endless years, would feel compelled to record not just their evolution, but the intimate, winding journeys that made them who they were.

his life consisted of traveling, helping, learning, and writing. helping was a vague way to describe what he did but in a more general sense, he listened to the village's problems and did his best to help. at first, it consisted of fighting demons and taming violent beasts but that had changed.

But here is the thing,

When you live a life like this,

Is almost impossible to be organized.

So when Izuku found the book —  the one he had written with his ancient witch friend and her vampire partner — he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Even now, their achievements still amazed him. Uraraka, the most extraordinary witch he’d ever met, whose parchments could fill entire shelves of knowledge, and Toga, with her unmatched understanding of the creatures of their world. Together, they had forged blood magic, an art that balanced on the edge of brilliance and danger. Holding the book in his hands, Izuku couldn’t help but smile— memories of their journey and the countless discoveries they had made together lingering like the faint scent of old ink.

“Blood itself carries power,” Toga had told him, all sharp smiles and knowing eyes. “But blood from a magical source? That’s when it gets interesting.”

Of course, the elf offered himself to be a subject at the time, just to imagine what they could do with blood magic was breathtaking.

And that's what he is doing right now. Gathering the ingredients from his work bag while holding the book in his hands.

With the staff in hands, he casts a simple spell to make the dragon lift his head enough so the liquid could go straight down. Carefully, Izuku added each of the ingredients written down. his hands steady despite the ache already building in his chest. Then came the knife.

The blade sank deep into his thigh first, a sharp, searing pain spreading through the limb. He gritted his teeth, eyes stinging, and shifted to cut across his wrist. The blood came slower than he liked, thick and unyielding as it dripped into the pan.

In the last time he did this, they had used needles, so there was just a dizzy feeling, but the situation was different, ‘the bigger the creator the more blood needed’ as the vampire would say.

He felt his messy blood going way too slowly. Could’ve just cut his hand off but that would have been a bit reckless, he wanted tho.

Finally, the pan was full. Izuku felt lightheaded, his hands trembling slightly. He forced himself to his feet, staggering toward creatures still form. The dragon’s lips were parted just enough, and Izuku wasted no time pouring the mixture down his throat.

Every drop mattered. He watched intently, ensuring the liquid reached Katsuki’s stomach before lowering the dragon’s head back to the ground. The dragon’s breath was still shallow — too weak to be comforting — but it was steady. The spell would take time. Izuku could only hope he had done enough.

The elf swayed slightly, blood still dripping sluggishly from his wounds. Muttering a healing spell, he pressed his palm over the cut on his wrist and then thigh, watching as the bleeding slowed.

With a sigh, Izuku slumped against the nearest wall and closed his eyes, exhaustion taking hold.  “ At least I didn’t cut my hand off ” he murmured weakly.

There was no denying it. Blood loss, elf or not, still hurt like hell.

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When Izuku first opened his eyes, all he saw was a blur — indistinct shapes bleeding into one another, like ink in water. He blinked several times, his vision slowly sharpening until the cave around him came into focus. The first thing he noticed was the silence. The rhythmic rasp of the dragon’s breath was gone. His heart jumped.

With a disappointed sigh “that’s expected,” he mumbled to himself, wincing as he shifted his sore body. His gaze drifted down.

And that’s when he saw.

His breath caught. Amazed.

It made sense, but,

You’d expect a dragon’s human form to carry traces of its beastly nature — horns, wings, perhaps a tail — but it’s- his appearance was shockingly human. His sun-kissed blond hair was untamed, messy, and slightly singed at the tips. His long, sharp nails gleamed white, a reminder of his true claws, and his canines were sharper than any mortals. Around his neck hung an assortment of necklaces, one, in particular, looked like the fangs of some great beast.

But his eyes— oh, his eyes. Izuku had seen countless faces, creatures, and animals, but none had eyes like these. They were fierce, blood-red, and held an aggressive gaze, yet they made him wonder if, in the light of day, would they shine like rubies?.

Izuku’s hands trembled slightly, not from fear but from a nearly overwhelming desire to capture this moment. To draw him, to immortalize this enigmatic figure in the pages of a book dedicated solely to him. A dragon. How many stories had he read? How many whispered myths had he chased? And yet none of them prepared him for this raw, striking presence.

“ Tsk, an elf,” the blond growled, his voice as jagged and sharp as his appearance. His glare was unrelenting as if Izuku’s very existence was an affront to him. “Never thought I’d see one. You look just as dumb as the stories make you out to be.”

Despite the venom in his tone, there was a restraint in his demeanor, as if he was holding back the urge to lash out. “Why did you do it?” the dragon continued, his crimson gaze fixed on the elf’s dried blood that decorated the floor. “Do you really think I can grant you a wish? That I owe you my life? I don’t owe you shit, pointy-ears.”

Izuku didn’t flinch. Instead, he held his ground, meeting the dragon’s fiery glare with a steady, thoughtful look. “I just couldn’t let you die,” he said softly. His voice wavered slightly, not from fear but from the weight of his sincerity. “I never thought I’d meet a dragon, either. So when the village asked me to kill you, I—” He faltered, unsure how to explain his motivations.

“ This village,” He spat, his tone dripping with disdain, “was built around my territory, and I’m the one who has to leave? What fucking a joke.” He attempted to rise, but the sharp pain in his stomach forced him back down. He winced, his frustration evident.

Izuku's concern flickers in his eyes. “You shouldn’t push yourself. you healed fast but your body still needs time,” he said, as slowly he got up, “There are some bunnies around, that should be good for now but ill see if there is something better close by” now is not the time to be weak “I’ll go get us something fresh” he started to walk with shaky legs.

The dragon's gaze followed him, guarded and uneasy, but he said nothing.

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When Izuku returned, the sun sank low, making him question how much time they spent unconscious, though his hunger and thirst answered half of his doubts.

Over his shoulder was a wild pig, normally its weight would be hardly a burden for the elf, but right now it felt almost impossible to hold a knife still. The dragon’s sharp eyes immediately fixed on it, appraising both the prey and the hunter.

“Y’know,” what the dragon said earlier hadn't been forgotten, far from that “Humans can be cruel,” Izuku began, his voice thoughtful as he stepped into the cave. “But they’re capable of creating so much in such a short time. Spells, potions, paintings, clothes—there’s beauty in their fleeting lives.”

“Your point being?” he muttered, his attention momentarily flicking from the pig to the elf.

“Do you live here alone?” Izuku asked, gently placing the pig near what he assumed was the dragon’s eating area.

“It’s how I like it,” his posture stiff, guard still firmly in place.

Izuku paused, brushing his hands on his tunic. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I’m an elf, and my mentor was the greatest man I’ve ever known. A human, braver than any elves I’ve met-” He straightened, meeting Bakugou’s gaze with unwavering curiosity. “What’s your name?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a weird one, you know that?” he said, his tone somewhere between annoyed and reluctantly intrigued. “Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Bakugou Katsuki,” Izuku repeated, the name rolling off his tongue as if testing its weight. He glanced around the cave, his gaze lingering on the artwork and treasures scattered throughout. “You have great taste,” he said earnestly, gesturing to a painting hanging nearby. “I like your collection. Is... beautiful.”

Bakugou scoffed, his expression as sharp as ever. “If you’re trying to butter me up, forget it. I’m giving you nothing.”

“Oh, no- no” Izuku quickly waved his hands in protest. “I just mean— it's impressive. I like art too. Writing and sketching are my hobbies actually. I’ve sold a few books here and there, just like to record things, you know? Stories, history...”

For the first time, Bakugou didn’t immediately respond. His gaze lingered on Izuku, as if trying to decipher the elf’s intentions. Finally, with a grunt, he muttered, “You’re still weird.”

Izuku started to prepare the pig for the fire that he had to start soon. His knife was sharp; he made sure of this every time he stopped in a village. As he started to clean the pig, he simply put its guts on his pan —still dirty with his own dried blood.

“What have you done to me” Bakugou’s - what a strong name - voice was rusty and low, it made sense, how much mana did a creature this big need to shift? in this stat he must have used the little he had to become the human form  “I’ve never seen or heard of magic like this being made by other kinds” he said as he passed his hands where once was an open wound.

“Makes sense, it’s still being developed” the elf started with excitement in his tone, turning to look at the men but with his hand still on the pig’s inside “Normally I wouldn't use- I mean, It’s the first time I tried to do this on my own- but you were dying and fast, so that seemed to be the only logical choice, like, just one look at those scales and anyone could tell spells wouldn't do a thing, it's so much power defense, doesn't need to be a genius to tell-”

“Don’t you know when to shut up?” Katsuki said gritting his teeth.

“Sorry, Sorry” he responded as he turned his attention back to the pig, now desmenbering the animal “How do you feel”

“my body feels fine, there's a constant ringing in my ear, but fine” he coughed a bit of smoke  “My mana on the other hand, not doing so great”

Izuku hummed. “Makes sense.”

Katsuki exhaled sharply, clearly irritated. “Nothing about this makes any fucking sense. Why the hell did you—”

Izuku cut him off, holding out a raw pork leg without hesitation. “Eat something.” His voice was softer, almost pleading. “Please. I just want you to be okay.”

Katsuki stared at the offering, his lips curling in disdain. “You didn’t even put salt on it.”

“You do that?” Izuku tilted his head, genuinely surprised.

“Do what?”

“Season your food.” His nose scrunched slightly. “I thought dragons just swallowed everything whole. You know, practicality and all that.”

Katsuki looked offended. “You’re fucking unbelievable.” He scowled at the uncooked meat for another moment before shoving it back into Izuku’s hands. “Just start the fire already, you useless fuck.”

Izuku jolted. “Oh! Right!”

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Turns out, one pig wasn’t enough for a dragon in recovery. Izuku probably should have guessed that— would’ve spared him the incredulous glare and snarky remarks when Bakugou devoured the entire thing in one sitting. Still, the days passed in relative peace, with them sharing full meals,  now seasoned with plenty of salt, per Bakugou’s insistence.

The dragon was regaining his mana steadily. His body, at least outwardly, was fully recovered, but Izuku stubbornly insisted on taking care of the hunting and fetching water. Bakugou had grumbled about it at first, but he never outright refused, which was enough for Izuku to keep at it.

Today was no different. Izuku sat outside, boiling water to ensure it was safe to drink— dragons might not mind impurities or heat, but elf lungs certainly did. When he glanced toward the cave, he saw Bakugou leaning against the wall, a book in hand.

They didn’t talk much. Izuku tried, of course, but Bakugou rarely gave more than a grunt or a sharp retort. Most of the time, the dragon sat in silence, occasionally closing his eyes as if conserving energy.

But today… Today he was reading.

That alone made Izuku’s heart beat faster than ever. What were the chances of meeting a dragon and said dragon knowing how to read? He sure was the luckiest elf in the world. What did he read about, what did he know, what genres were his favorites? Certainly wasn’t romance… But what if! It felt like his chest could explode right now.

Izuku bit his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. He waited for the water to cool, all while stealing glances at the dragon who was engrossed in his book.

Finally, he couldn’t help himself.

“Sooo…” The word barely left his mouth before he regretted it. “I see you have a book in your hands”

“You’re so clever, congrats on figuring that one out” he responded without looking up from the page.

“I didn’t thin-” no, no not saying that “I just wonder what kinda books you like”

“I guessed that from your muttering” Izuku’s face burned. “it's an old tale”

“Old tale hah”  said desperate to hear more.

“About the biggest hero this world’s ever seen,” Bakugou said, smirking. “Craziest part is, the guy was human. Some other dragons told me about him—recommended this book. Turns out, the author’s not half-bad, even if he’s got a dumbass name.”

Izuku blinked. Wait. . .

“His mother must’ve hated his guts from the day he was born,” Bakugou added with a casual shrug, as if genuinely pondering the idea.

“What’s the author’s name?” Izuku managed, bracing himself.

Bakugou huffed. “Deku. Can you believe that crap?”

Sometimes life does laugh in your face, doesn't it?

“Can I see the book?” he asked, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Bakugou handed it over, still open to the page he’d been reading. Izuku’s eyes darted to the cover, then the last page. There was no mistaking it. “It’s… actually Izuku.”

“What?”

“The author’s name,” Izuku clarified, holding up the book. “It’s Izuku… Midoriya.”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped to his, wide with disbelief. “You’re Deku? You wrote this?”

Izuku nodded, his face flush with both embarrassment and pride.

Bakugou leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing. “Were you there? When All For One showed up?”

It was a fair question. Izuku had intentionally kept his presence in the story minimal, focusing instead on the hero, the protagonist, and his mentor.

“I was there… the first time,” Izuku admitted quietly. “I didn’t write about myself much—it wasn’t my story. But All Might’s battle with All For One… I’ll never forget it. Sometimes, I still feel his presence. That power, that hunger for more… It was suffocating. When I saw him, I was sure I wouldn’t survive—not because he’d kill me, but because I’d destroy myself just trying to stand against him.”

He paused, swallowing hard. “That’s why I write. People need heroes, but more than that, they need to know they can become heroes themselves.”

A heavy silence stretched between them. Bakugou’s crimson eyes flicked back to the book in his lap. He huffed softly, a sound almost too quiet to catch.

“It’s a good book, nerd,” he muttered.

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. “I have more if you want.”

“I’ll think about it.”

 Izuku couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

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It was midday, the meat was already on the fire, today they would eat a deer that was found nearby. Bakugou felt better enough to make a quick trip to the lake so he could clean himself properly. Izuku was admittedly disappointed about not going with him but he knew better than to push too much, if there was something that was common knowledge about dragons, it was that they prefer to be alone, so, being suddenly stuck with someone while vulnerable seemed to be to brusk of a chance.

The image of the dragon lingers in his mind.

From the teeth on his neck to the shiny jewelry on his ear.

It looked good on him. fitting.

So it was only right for the elf to draw him, eyes, hair, and scales but it didn’t feel right. even after filling a whole book with only the man, it felt like blaspheme, he needed color, needed a canvas. Crap, he would promise his firstborn child so that Katsuki would have something deserving.

He refused to let Katsuki see his sketches, so he worked on them in the dead of night or at moments like this.

Dragons really were ethereal.

And just the thought of the memory of Bakugou like when he first saw him made him spiral. 

He dropped the pencil on the ground and collected the notebook inside his not-so-white shirt. he needed to work on some runes so the humans could stay away from this area, he craved some trees while hunting but rocks would make it easier to reach a better distance, he wanted to give some to Bakugou but his guts told him that it would not end up in a ‘thank you’.

The dragon should be back soon so he could just work on it till then. Spending time on his crafts always made him happy after all.

It all happened too fast. In one moment, he was carving runes in a bunch of rocks he had collected throughout the days, and in the other, a big red dragon came flying in his direction, and it didn't look like it wanted a friendly hug.

He closed his eyes when he felt the impact, his back hurting and a pressure on his chest. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was in between the dragon's black claws .

The creature got closer to his face, sniffing him with his hot breath.

With trembling arms, Izuku brushed his hands with one of the dragon's fingers. His scales were not as shiny or sharp as Bakugou's, they were brute and rusty-

The dragon put more pressure on him.

“H-Hello,” Izuku managed to choke out, forcing words past the weight on his chest. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I… I don’t think we’ve met before?” His voice wavered, but he tried to keep it steady.

The dragon didn’t respond. It sniffed the air again, clearly searching for something else.

Was this dragon trying to claim the territory or-

“Oi! shitty hair” the voice came from the distance but was still loud enough “This thing between your claws belongs to me.”

Belongs?

The pressure on his chest was gone in an instant, and as the dragon released him, Izuku coughed violently, spitting out blood that had pooled in his mouth. Still not moving his body in an attempt to delay the pain. He had questions, could’t miss a second.

But he did miss because subtly, there was no dragon but a man with muscular arms, wild red hair, and sharp teeth. His crimson wings and thick tail and wings still marked him as something otherworldly, but his grin was warm and apologetic.

“Dude I got worried! came to check and you were nowhere to be seen and an elf so close of your deem when you just got-”

“At least the other idiots didn’t come this time I see” eyes flickering between both figures; he seemed more relaxed after a bath “I think you broke some bones there”

“You with an elf ? or anyone really- no one is going to believe me!! and why are you in this form? dude why are you acting so weird while I’m the only witness- ” he spoke without pausing to breathe while his hands messed up his own hair .

“Yeah, no one will believe you so you should keep your mouth shut.” Bakugou hissed “I ran out of food this time and an asshole attacked me,” he said as he closed his fist “A coward move”

“Dude that’s why you should come with us when the season comes”.

“I refuse to be around a bunch of desperate dragons looking for a mate” The disgust in his voice made it clear enough that he meant that.

“I just worry, y’know. we all do”

There was a moment of silence between the two, no doubt that was not the first time they had that conversation.

Izuku was still on the floor, lifting his hand to clean the blood from his mouth. The stranger seemed to remember his presence.

The red hair froze, his grin turning sheepish. “Are you okay, buddy?” He crouched down and offered Izuku a hand.

“I- I’m fine,” Izuku wheezed, taking the hand gratefully. Kirishima pulled him up with ease, his strength evident even in the small motion.

“You said your name’s Midoriya, right?” Kirishima asked, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “Name is Eijiro Kirishima, Bakugou’s best bud!”

Bakugou snorted at that, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sure you are.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Kirishima continued, ignoring Bakugou. “I’ve never seen an elf up close before. Hey, can I touch your ears? They look so cool and not as pointy as they say”

Izuku, despite the ache in his chest, couldn’t help but smile. “Of course! Um… may I touch your wings?”

“Sure thing, dude!” Kirishima spread his wings wide, showing off their impressive span. They weren’t delicate or transparent as Izuku had read in some books; the leathery surface bore old scars, tough and weathered. When Izuku ran his fingers over them, it felt like thick, battle-worn leather.

“You are such a dork” Bakugou grumbled, rolling his eyes. “both of you”

“Well I know Mina will go crazy when I tell her about this,” he said as he pushed the elf’s ears a bit too hard.

“Whatever you say”

“But how did you even find him- I mean, were you that badly hurt? i know you don’t like the idea but you really should just-”

“It’s all fine, you should know I would not die to the hands of a damn human, and, I like the way it is”

“Okay then. I won't stay for long but I think our friends would appreciate some of that spicy meat of yours..”

“With your speed the meat well get there already decomposed”

“I can go fast!”

“You?”

“Hell yeah!”

“You’re going to take his ear off if you keep pulling like that,” he said with his eyes focusing on the elf’s red ear  “Why didn’t you say anything, nerd?” Izuku responded with an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh! My bad” he freed Izuku’s ears, now just sniffing something “is there something burning?”

“AH! THE MEAT” he ran to where the deer was being made to try and revert the fire's damage.

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The conversation between the two continued, voices bouncing off the stone walls of the cave. Izuku let out a quiet sigh of relief. Today, they had plenty of meat—not quite enough for two dragons, but it would do. He had even added some herbs this time, the same ones Katsuki had scoffed at him for forgetting before.

Satisfied, he stepped away from the fire and into a quieter corner of the cave, where his belongings were tucked away. He hadn't been draining his mana like he used to, pushing himself to exhaustion for the sake of his studies—well, technically, he had stopped his studies. Now, he only focused on writing one book. A new one. About dragons, of course.

Or rather, about one dragon in particular.

But that didn’t matter.

Izuku reached for his staff, fingers wrapping around the familiar wood, and immediately felt whole again—more himself. He took a brief moment to appreciate it before closing his eyes and murmuring an incantation. The words weren’t something he needed to dig from the back of his mind; they were second nature, like an old friend. The warm hum of magic settled over his skin, seeping into his tired muscles. This kind of healing spell drained him, but the results were always worth it.

His breathing steadied. His shoulders, tight with tension he hadn’t realized he was holding, eased into a more natural posture. The dull ache he had grown used to faded as the magic did its work. Only when he exhaled did he realize just how numb from the pain he had been.

And then—he felt it. Another breath, not his own.

His eyes snapped open to find Kirishima watching him, leaning slightly forward, red eyes glinting with curiosity.

“That was different from the ones I see witches use,” Kirishima mused as he stepped closer. “I came to call you so we could eat together, but now I’m curious.”

Izuku blinked, still a little dazed from the spell. “Oh! It’s probably because it’s not the most common one to use.” He adjusted his grip on his staff. “Well, if you’re a beginner, you’ll learn that potions are the most practical choice. You can make a bunch of them in advance and just use them when you need, or even buy them if you don’t want to waste time. I do keep some on me, but mostly to give to others when they need them, y’know?”

He got a small nod in response, so he continued, warming up to the topic.

“Thing is, potions are useful when you want to conserve mana. It’s a strategic thing. But they take time to work, depending on the injury. And elves—” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious, “—well, we have more mana than witches, so I prefer fast results.”

Realization hit him like a rock to the face. Kirishima was staring at him, listening intently, eyes bright with interest. Izuku felt his face heat up.

“Ah—but I’m probably boring you—”

“No, no! That’s actually really interesting,” Kirishima interrupted, grinning. “Now that you mention it, having potions ready makes total sense, but I never really thought about how long they take to work in a fight. It’s cool hearing about this from someone who knows their stuff.”

“If you want to know more, I’m more than happy to explain,” Izuku offered, a little too eagerly.

Kirishima’s face lit up. “Well, if you insist! I always wondered if—”

“The. Meat. Is. Cold.” The deep, growling voice cut through the air like a blade.

Izuku and Kirishima turned in unison. Katsuki stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable—but his eyes, those smoldering, narrowed eyes, were burning with something sharp.

Kirishima scratched the back of his head, flashing a sheepish grin. “Ooh, sorry, dude! I just went to get him and—”

“Now you will eat it cold. And with dirt.”

“Dirt?” Kirishima tilted his head.

“It fell,” Bakugou said flatly, eyes locking onto Izuku’s like a silent accusation making the elf gulp.

“Oh no, is there something I can do?” Izuku asked, completely missing the tension in the air. “I don’t know any spells to reverse dirt contamination from the top of my head, but I look fo—”

Bakugou exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just eat the damn thing, nerd.”

As they finished their meal, Kirishima leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile on his face. He had spent most of the evening sharing stories about their homeland, about the familiar scents of the mountains and the ever-present energy of their kind. He also gave updates on Bakugou’s old friends—Mina, Denki, and Sero—who, according to him, were as chaotic as ever.

“You should come visit,” Kirishima said, his voice dipping into something softer, almost nostalgic. “It would be a nice surprise.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “Doubt they’d care.”

Kirishima laughed. “You’re as dramatic as ever, man. Of course they care.”

Izuku, listening intently, couldn’t help but ask, “Do all of you live together?”

Kirishima shook his head, looking thoughtful. “Nah, we live close, but together? That’d be a disaster.” He chuckled. “We’d drive each other crazy in a week.”

With that, he stood, stretching his arms. “I better get going. Hope we meet again, Midoriya.”

Izuku smiled. “Same to you.”

Bakugou didn’t say anything, but he gave a small nod, eyes lingering as Kirishima walked off into the night.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Bakugou sniffed the air with a sharp inhale, his expression immediately twisting into one of disgust.

"When was the last time you took a damn bath?" he demanded, arms crossed as he kicked at his own pile of clothes, preparing to head to the river.

Izuku blinked. "I just use a cleaning spell—"

"Disgusting," Bakugou cut in.

"I do not stink!" Izuku huffed, taking a defensive step back.

"The smell’s too artificial. I don’t like it. You stink."

"You’re just picking on me! You don’t actually mean that."

"You’re not sleeping in my cave anymore."

"You’re just saying that! "

"I hope it rains tonight."

Izuku groaned, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine! Fine! You win! I’ll take a bath— even though I’m already clean! And I’ll even wash my clothes!"

"Finally," Bakugou muttered, satisfied. Then, with a jerk of his chin, he added, "Bring all your clothes with you. Especially that ugly-ass shirt you’re wearing."

Izuku’s eyes widened. "You… want me to wash all of them? By hand ?"

"That’s what I said."

"Kacchan, you could at least help me!"

Bakugou scoffed. "Why the hell would I do that? This is your fault."

Izuku pressed his palms together while closing his eyes as if in prayer. "Because you’re kind?"

" Ha. "

"What if I say ‘please’?" he opened one eye full of hope

"That’s just a word," Bakugou said flatly, already turning away. "Don’t make me wait."

Izuku sighed, dragging his hands down his face. He knew when a battle was lost. Silently, he started collecting his clothes—his main bag, his storage spell, everything—while muttering under his breath about dragons with no appreciation for efficiency.

When they reached the river, Bakugou wasted no time stripping off his layers and stepping into the water. It was clear and cool, reflecting the bright midday sky with only a few clouds scattered above. The temperature was pleasant enough that even Izuku had to admit a bath wasn’t the worst idea.

Still, this was unnecessary labor.

With a sigh, Izuku knelt by the riverbank, placing his pile of clothes on a dry patch of stone. He rolled up his sleeves and prepared to start the painstaking process of washing.  At first he had been nervous about showing his completely bandaged arms, but if Bakugou seemed to ignore the detail then it made him more comfortable.

Bakugou eyed him from the water, arms floating lazily at his sides. “Do you even remember how to do it?”

Izuku huffed. “It’s not that hard. Just takes time.” He grabbed a pair of brown pants from the pile. “Oh, forgot I had these.”

“Speed it up, Deku. ” Bakugou kicked at the water, sending a few droplets flying. “Don’t wanna spend the next week here. Even though it’d be pretty entertaining.”

Izuku paused. His fingers tightened around the fabric as he turned to face Bakugou, a slow, knowing grin forming on his lips.

“‘Deku,’ huh?” He dipped the pants into the water and started scrubbing. “Katsuki, Katsuki”

Bakugou’s eye twitched. “Oi! Don’t wear it out.”

“Katsuuuki,” Izuku sing-songed, flicking water in his direction. Then, with an exaggerated snap of his fingers, he let the pants fall into his lap and grinned wide. “ Kacchan! ”

The effect was immediate. Bakugou’s entire body stiffened, eyes going impossibly wide as if Izuku had just uttered the worst possible blasphemy.

His expression was pure horror. “You wish for death.”

Izuku just laughed, undeterred, and flicked more water at him. “Stop distracting me, Kacchan!”

“How is it my fault?” Bakugou grumbled, swimming closer with effortless ease, his movements cutting cleanly through the water. “Take a bath first. Your stink is gonna stick to the clean clothes.”

“Ugh, fine!” Izuku groaned dramatically, peeling off his vest and tossing it onto the growing pile without much ceremony. This was fine. Normal. He’d done this a thousand times before. “I hope this pleases you.” With that, he slipped beneath the surface, feeling the river’s gentle current swirl around him.

“We’ll see, Deku,” Bakugou muttered, half amused, half judgmental.

Even though the dragon was a creature of fire, he moved so fluidly in the water, his presence striking. Izuku found himself staring, captivated by the way Bakugou’s necklace floated weightlessly around him. Sharp teeth adorned the chain, gleaming in the shifting light, each one a silent warning.

“What’s it made from?” Izuku asked, gaze fixed on the ominous pieces.

“From dumb elves that don’t know how to bathe right,” Bakugou snapped, baring his own sharp teeth in a grin before abruptly lunging forward.

“K-Kacchan—!?” Izuku yelped, laughter bubbling up as Bakugou’s hands suddenly attacked his head, fingers ruffling through his soaked hair with ruthless efficiency. “No need for this! I’ll stop using cleaning spells if that’s what Kacchan wants—!”

“Good.” Bakugou gave one final, unnecessary scrub before pulling away and swimming toward the riverbank. With one powerful movement, he stepped out of the water, droplets rolling down his toned frame as he jerked a thumb at the pile of clothes. “You should wash all that before the sun goes down.”

“I will, I will,” Izuku grumbled, rubbing his scalp with a huff, though the warmth lingering from Bakugou’s touch didn’t fade so easily.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Time passed quickly, and in two weeks, the dragon seemed to have reached his peak. Even his eyes, once the usual fiery red, now glowed with a livid intensity, marking the return of his full power. His mana was restored, and his aura radiated strength. It was time for him to go. The area surrounding them was now safe— all the runes he had placed would do their jobs. His job was done, and he had filled two sketchbooks with drawings and notes, leaving behind everything he had worked for.

Izuku didn’t want to leave. Not yet. He hadn’t imagined that it would be this hard. The thought of leaving, of not being close to Kacchan anymore, twisted something deep inside his chest. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling as he packed his bag. His fingers brushed against a shirt he had recently washed, bringing it to his nose. The scent of the forest lingered on the fabric, and he closed his eyes, taking in the familiar smell.

It was a smell he would soon have to let go.

A small sob escaped him before he could stop it, and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. He couldn’t let himself fall apart like this—not now. Not when it was time to leave.

A voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and sudden. "My instincts don’t make me do shit."

Izuku jumped, heart racing, startled by Kacchan’s voice. His stomach twisted in fear. "What the hell are you doing? You look weak," Kacchan continued, his tone harsh but laced with something Izuku couldn’t quite place.

"I’m... preparing to leave," Izuku replied, his voice shaky as he refused to meet Kacchan’s eyes. He couldn’t. He could feel the tears gathering, threatening to spill. “I wish I could stay longer but... I understand what I have to do."

A sob caught in his throat as he sniffled, trying to compose himself. "I never got to write a proper book about you, Kacchan... T he great tale of Kacchan , aka the story of a red dragon. " His voice wavered, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “ by Izuku M-midoriya ”

Kacchan’s presence loomed in the doorway, silent for a moment. Then, finally, he spoke. “The title can be improved,” he muttered. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

Izuku took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside. He wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. "I’m going to a town a bit far from here. I think there's a festival there, or at least there might be. I’ll get there by nightfall." His voice cracked as he fought to keep it together. "But that’s not why I’m leaving. I don’t want to be a nuisance to you. I know how much you like your space, and I understand. D-dragons have instincts." The words spilled out before he could stop them. "I don’t belong here with you."

Kacchan’s eyes glowed, his gaze hardening as he stepped forward, anger radiating from him. “Maybe other dragons let themselves be slaves to their instincts, but I'm not one of them, Deku." His voice was firm, almost challenging. “I can leave this cave whenever I want. I can burn this whole place to the ground if I feel like it—don’t you dare underestimate me.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, fear flashing across his face. "It wasn’t my—"

“I don’t care," Kacchan interrupted, his tone dropping into something softer, almost possessive. "If you want to go to that festival so badly, then we’ll go. You’re not running off to write your stupid book on your own, and I won’t let you give up on it.”

Izuku’s heart pounded in his chest, every beat a reminder of the overwhelming relief that flooded through him. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he could hardly think, only feel the wave of emotion crashing over him. "Oh, Kacchan..."

"Go wash your face," Kacchan ordered, voice still rough but tinged with something tender. "You look like a fool. I’ll prepare my things so we can leave tomorrow."

Izuku nodded eagerly, his heart racing faster than ever before. "I will! I will!" The words burst from him before he could stop them. He couldn't breathe, couldn't stop the overwhelming rush of joy and disbelief that filled his chest. He couldn’t have imagined a better response, a better outcome. Kacchan was staying. They were going together.

Izuku’s mind was spinning, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to smile.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

They departed before the first signs of dawn painted the sky, long before the sun even considered rising. The most powerful kingdom in these lands was far, as expected, and Izuku had wanted to visit it for some time now. There was always something new happening there—advancements, discoveries, stories waiting to be uncovered.

Walking alongside Kacchan was an experience in itself. Maybe it was because Izuku was so used to traveling alone, but something about having the dragon at his side made the journey feel different—less like a task and more like an adventure. Bakugou, ever the warrior, had chosen to keep his wings and tail out, a defensive measure against any possible threats. He took the lead with confidence, his steps firm, his senses sharp, while Izuku followed just behind, directing him when it was time to change course.

To say Izuku was having the time of his life would be an understatement.

Bakugou’s tail moved with effortless control, thick and powerful, the kind of deep red that kings would kill to drape themselves in. His wings, large and imposing, looked impenetrable—a testament to his strength. He was, in every sense of the word, a dragon. And Izuku, being Izuku, couldn’t help but be fascinated.

“Kacchan, why can’t we just fly?” The words left him before he could stop them, his excitement getting the better of him. The mere thought of soaring through the skies on a dragon's back—it was the kind of dream he’d only ever read about in books.

Bakugou didn’t even bother turning around. “Tired already, Deku?” His tone was teasing, but there was an edge of challenge to it.

Izuku straightened up immediately. “No! I was just wondering. It would be faster, that’s all.”

This time, Bakugou did look at him—only to give him a look so deadpan it could’ve turned him to stone. Then, he raised a single finger, pointing it accusingly at Izuku’s face. “I want to see if you can handle a little walk first,” he said, baring the tips of his fangs in something that wasn’t quite a smirk.

A test.

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. This was a test.

Suddenly, this wasn’t just a journey anymore—it was a challenge. A challenge to prove that he was worthy of Bakugou’s company. That he could keep up. His determination flared instantly. “I won’t disappoint you!”

Bakugou snorted, unimpressed. A breath of warmth ghosted between them from the dragon’s exhale, though whether it was from amusement or boredom, Izuku couldn’t tell.

They continued on, the road stretching endlessly before them. The land here was vast, the horizon open, unbroken by towering walls or thick forests. It was strange how the world could feel so expansive yet so contained within the presence of just one person.

As time passed, Izuku found himself falling into the rhythm of the journey. Step after step, mile after mile, the quiet between them was comfortable, filled only by the occasional sound of rustling leaves or distant birdsong.

Then came the hunger.

It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there, creeping in like an itch at the back of his mind. His stomach didn’t quite grumble, but the thought of something sweet settled itself firmly in his thoughts. Mooncakes, perhaps, or even just a simple apple.

He let his gaze wander, scanning the trees. Nothing.

The ground, however, offered something promising—small, dark berries growing on a bush just off the side of the path. They weren’t familiar, but they looked harmless enough. Besides, he’d eaten plenty of things before that weren’t exactly ideal, and he’d survived just fine.

Waiting for the right moment, Izuku quickened his steps, plucked a few berries without slowing down, and popped them into his mouth. The reaction was instant.

“Deku, I hope you didn’t just do what I think you did.”

Izuku nearly choked at the sudden voice, cheeks still half-full. “I—”

“Spit that out.” Before he could even process what was happening, a hand was on his jaw, firm but not forceful, tilting his face forward. Bakugou’s other palm hovered beneath his chin expectantly. “Now,” he demanded.

Izuku hesitated for only a second before reluctantly complying, spitting the half-chewed berries into Bakugou’s waiting hand.

He grimaced. “I would’ve been fine eating those, you know.”

Bakugou didn’t dignify him with a response, instead tossing the berries back into the grass where they belonged. “I don’t care if you’d be fine. That’s not a reason to be a dumbass.”

His scowl deepened as he wiped his hand against his pants, clearly disgusted. “If you want something good, then quit being impatient. I’ve got something better in mind.”

Izuku blinked. “You do?”

A sharp glare. “Yeah. So shut up, stop muttering, and just wait. You’re already driving me insane.”

Izuku, feeling a bit guilty now, smiled sheepishly. “Alright, alright. I’ll wait.”

Bakugou huffed, muttering something under his breath, but didn’t argue further.

Bakugou perched high in the thick branches of the tree, his sharp claws gripping the bark as he worked. He hacked away at the small coconuts, sending them tumbling down to the ground with soft thuds. The warm afternoon breeze rustled the leaves, and golden light filtered through the canopy, making his blonde hair glow.

"Finished!" he called out, stretching his wings to glide down effortlessly. His landing was smooth, wings folding quickly against his back. He didn’t like using them around people—too many eyes, too many questions, and none of them worth his time.

Izuku, kneeling near the scattered fruit, picked one up, rolling it between his fingers. "We got a lot! How do we eat them? They’re smaller than the ones I’m used to, though."

"We start by opening them." Bakugou crouched down, grabbing a handful of the tiny coconuts and smashing them against a nearby rock with practiced ease. The hard shells cracked open with satisfying pops, revealing their contents.

Izuku watched in fascination. "They look really cute. I never tried them before because of their size—I always thought the monkeys would enjoy them more than me," he mused absentmindedly.

Bakugou snorted. "Of course you’d think like that," he muttered, too focused on his task to tease him further.

After some time, he was done. "That should be enough." He held out his hand, palm full of what should have been sweet, white coconut meat.

Izuku looked—and immediately regretted it.

The inside of the fruit wasn’t the clean, solid white he expected. Instead, small, wriggling, maggot-like creatures sat neatly in Bakugou’s palm, their soft, segmented bodies glistening in the light. Izuku’s stomach twisted. Felt his soul abandoning him.

"Where did they come from?" he asked, stepping back.

Bakugou furrowed his brows. "Did you hit your damn head or something? They came from the fruit we just picked up." his voice sounding more annoyed than expected.

"So… they’re not good to eat, then?" Izuku asked, voice hopeful.

Bakugou gave him a look like he’d just said the dumbest thing in existence. "They’re the best part, dumbass. Our treat." He picked one up between his fingers. "Just try it."

Izuku’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "I don’t—I think—uh—"

"I went to all that trouble, and you’re not even gonna eat it?" Bakugou’s voice turned dangerous. And how could Izuku say no to that?

"Fine," he sighed, reaching out and scooping a few from Bakugou’s hand. “Thank you Kacchan” He could already feel sweat forming on his forehead. His fingers trembled slightly as he held one up, studying it against the sunlight. It was plump. Too plump. The creamy insides practically glistened.

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, and popped it into his mouth.

The texture was the first thing that hit him. It burst the moment his teeth sank into it, rich and thick, coating his tongue in something almost buttery. A shudder ran down his spine.

"Do it," Bakugou ordered.

So he did. He chewed. Swallowed. The tension in his shoulders slowly eased.

"...Tastes just like coconut," he admitted, still shaken. "Just… more creamy." He took a deep breath. "Definitely an experience."

Bakugou huffed. "You’re so dramatic, did you know that?" He tossed one into his own mouth, unfazed. Then he picked up another and held it out toward Izuku. "Now open your ungrateful mouth and appreciate it."

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Halfway to their destination, the two men found themselves standing at the edge of a steep cliff. The drop below was dizzying, with jagged rocks jutting out like teeth and the faint sound of rushing water echoing far beneath them.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate. With a low grunt, he leapt down, landing with a thud that shook the ground below. The height didn’t bother him—he was a dragon, after all. Heights were nothing to him. As he dusted himself off, his crimson eyes glanced back up the cliff, his sharp mind already calculating the time they’d waste figuring out how to get the elf down safely, well he was a mage so-

“KACCHAN!”

His head snapped up just in time to see Izuku jumping, arms spread wide like he was embracing the wind.

For a split second, Bakugou’s brain short-circuited. What the hell is he doing?! Panic flared in his chest, hot and bright, but only for a moment. Instinct took over.

“DUMBASS!” he barked, but his body was already moving. He braced himself, arms outstretched, feet digging into the dirt as he prepared to catch the idiot plummeting straight toward him.

The impact came swiftly. Izuku’s smaller frame collided with his, and Bakugou staggered slightly but held firm, his arms locking securely around the elf.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing and the faint rustle of the wind.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!” Bakugou’s voice was a roar, raw with a mix of anger and something else—something closer to worry.

Izuku only giggled, his green eyes sparkling with mischief and unwavering confidence. “I knew you’d catch me, Kacchan.”

The words hit harder than the impact had. Bakugou’s face flared red, his grip on the elf tightening involuntarily before he quickly shoved him away.

“tsk,” he muttered, turning his face to the side in a futile attempt to hide the heat creeping up his neck.

Izuku just smiled. They were even now.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

There was a lot to learn about Bakugou Katsuki.

One thing about him was that every time he opened his mouth, every bird within earshot would scatter from their hiding places.

It could be a dragon thing, of course.

But in Izuku’s opinion, it was probably because he always spoke in an almost screaming tone.

From the very beginning, he had matched that tone. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, and Bakugou had never complained about it. But now, as the kingdom emerged in the distance, a thought latched onto his mind and refused to leave.

We are going to look insane.

The truth was, deep down, Izuku couldn’t care less about what others thought. Hell, he was living the dream—so what if people stared? But at the same time… first impressions mattered, especially when it came to business.

Then again, this was just one place. An important one, yes, but just one at the end of the day. He could wait. He knew his normal speaking tone annoyed the other, so maybe now wasn’t the right time to bring it up.

Still, watching the dragon walk ahead of him made Izuku’s thoughts spiral. There was so much he didn’t know. Was that tattoo a family thing? How did he get those earrings?

It had been a while since he felt this... 

In the moment.

Days often passed in a blur. He walked, talked, slept, wrote, read, walked again, earned money, ate. Over and over, the same routine. He had forgotten that a bath wasn’t just for keeping clean. That food wasn’t just to keep his stomach from eating itself.

When had he forgotten that?

There was just . . .  so much to learn.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Izuku wondered if it was true that dragons had nests. He had never seen Kacchan’s, but then again, he had found him in a delicate time—both practically sleeping on the ground while healing.

Maybe he had one before being attacked. If Izuku remembered that moment correctly—and how could he not—Bakugou had been in a rush, his body barely holding together, as if all he wanted was a place to collapse in peace. Dignity in death.

Maybe, in the heat of the moment, he had destroyed it himself.

Because now, every night, on cue, Katsuki would demand, "Time to rest," and then stare at Midoriya like he was waiting for something. The first time it happened, Izuku had only blinked, muttered a half-hearted "Goodnight, Kacchan," and kept scribbling notes in the margins of his book. He quickly learned that late-night work was no longer an option. Not with the way the dragon huffed and grumbled, drawing attention to every tired blink, every deep sigh, every unhealthy habit Izuku had accumulated over years of solitude.

It was... endearing.

So he gave in, blew out the candles, left the curtains open so they could still see the stars, and tucked himself under the soft inn sheets. The weight of the bed beneath him was a luxury he hadn’t had in a while, and the moment his head hit the pillow, he realized just how heavy his body felt. Maybe Kacchan had a point.

Just as he was drifting off, he felt a sudden warmth at his feet.

He stilled.

“…Kacchan?” Izuku whispered, barely audible in the quiet of the room.

No answer came, just the slow, even breaths of someone already deep in sleep. Warmth spread up from his legs where Bakugou had curled up, his body heavy, his presence grounding.

At least now, Izuku knew that getting two beds had been unnecessary.

But maybe… more pillows and blankets wouldn’t hurt. He would have to make a list first thing in the morning, perhaps even picking Kacchan's favorite colors.

His lips twitched, a stupid smile spreading across his face before he could stop it. Good thing Bakugou was asleep— he’d never let him live this down otherwise.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

How could Izuku put this?

Kacchan could be a bit…

“How could someone even lose a cow?!”

Short-tempered.

Bakugou’s voice echoed through the quiet village street, sharp enough to send a flock of birds scattering into the sky. A couple of townsfolk peered out from their doorways before quickly deciding they had somewhere else to be. Izuku, meanwhile, was starting to think that maybe—just maybe—taking on a job right after arriving had been a bad idea.

“And you put it up as a mission in the tavern—with no shame?!” Bakugou continued, arms crossed, radiating pure disbelief.

The poor villager in front of them stammered, his eyes darting nervously between the furious dragon and the clearly-too-friendly elf. “I—I mean, someone broke the fence, b-but it’s not—um, not something that usually happens—”

Bakugou took a step forward, clearly ready to unleash another verbal beatdown, but Izuku had years of practice dealing with this exact scenario. He swiftly cut in with a bright, reassuring tone.

“Please don’t worry! We’ll find your cow!” His hands moved in a calming motion, as if physically trying to dispel the tension in the air. “Try not to stress too much. She’ll be back before you know it.”

The villager sagged in relief. “Thank you. Most folks here don’t want to bother with this sort of thing, and… well, my legs aren’t what they used to be.”

Izuku smiled warmly before grabbing Bakugou’s arm and steering him away. “You can count on us!” he called over his shoulder as they walked toward the town center.

Bakugou, scowling, yanked his arm free the moment they were out of earshot. “We could’ve picked something better,” he muttered. “Something interesting. Something worth more gold. But no—no, we’re chasing a damned cow.”

“That’s true,” Izuku admitted, glancing at him thoughtfully, “but… didn’t he seem lonely to you?”

Bakugou let out an unimpressed snort. “It’s just a cow.”

“I don’t think it’s just a cow for him,” Izuku said softly, his expression tinged with that frustrating sincerity that Bakugou had come to tolerate—if only barely.

“Idiot,” Bakugou grumbled.

The insult came out purely out of habit at this point, lacking its usual bite.

“Is that what you travel for? Fooling around like a moron? And here I thought elves were supposed to be interesting.”

Izuku grinned, undeterred. “You thought so? Well, sorry to disappoint you, oh mighty dragon.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn’t dignify that with a response. They walked in the direction of the florist near the kingdom gates.

“How do you even plan on finding this dumb cow?” Bakugou finally asked. “Got a spell for missing livestock? Or are we just gonna spend the evening yelling her name like a couple of lunatics?”

“Well,” Izuku started, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now that you mention it, I do have a friend who conveniently happens to be a dragon—”

“No way you have friends.”

“I was talking about you ! Why are you like this?!”

Bakugou smirked, entirely too pleased with himself. “So what? You want me to fly around looking for some oversized steak?”

“She has a name, Kacchan.”

“Doesn’t make this any less stupid.”

“But it’d be the fastest way to—”

“Too many extras around.”

Izuku paused, considering that. Yeah, a massive dragon suddenly taking off in broad daylight would probably cause a bit of a commotion.

“Alright, you’re right,” he admitted.

Bakugou huffed. “I usually am.”

“Old-fashioned way it is, then.”

“No way you don’t have a spell for this.”

“I probably do, but—” A sudden wave of guilt hit him as he thought about the absolute disaster that was his storage system. “This way is just faster.”

Bakugou stared at him for a long second before shaking his head. “Useless.”

“You do the looking, I’ll do the calling,” Izuku declared confidently.

“Fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself.”

Izuku took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

“LULLU! WHERE ARE YOU, GIRL?!”

The shout echoed through the village, loud enough to make a passing merchant nearly drop his basket of apples. Somewhere in the distance, a dog started barking.

Bakugou crossed his arms. “You sound ridiculous.”

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? SUMMON HER WITH MY HEART?”

Before Bakugou could answer, a very distant, very unimpressed “ Moooo ” reached their ears.

Izuku perked up instantly. “SEE?! IT WORKED!”

Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long evening.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

The afternoon sun bathed the village in warm golden light, and beside them stood a particularly fluffy brown cow, chewing lazily on a stray patch of grass.

Izuku beamed, patting her side with satisfaction. “Here she is! Lullu, safe and sound, my good sir!”

The villager sighed in visible relief as he reached out to pet the cow’s head. “I’m glad you were able to find her. She must’ve been so scared…”

“Did you use magic on her?” he asked suddenly, eyeing the cow with mild suspicion. “Is she okay?”

“Oh! Uh, y’know, just a little location spell here and there.” Izuku waved a hand vaguely, looking everywhere but at the man in front of him. “She was a tricky one, hahaha…”

Bakugou, arms crossed, stared at the elf with one eyebrow raised, his eyes closed in a long, slow blink of pure disbelief.

The villager, blissfully unaware, clapped his hands together. “Well, thank you for not giving up on her!” He handed them their payment with a grateful smile.

“It was no problem, really!” Izuku replied quickly, already turning on his heel to head back toward the inn—only to stop mid-step as something clicked in his mind.

“Oh! Would you happen to know anything about the festival?”

“The festival? Ah, yes!” The man perked up. “It’s happening in a few days. You’ve probably noticed the Kindom’s livelier than usual.”

That would explain things. Izuku had felt the shift in atmosphere—streets bustling, decorations beginning to appear, merchants setting up extra stalls.

“We hold it every year to celebrate the arrival of spring,” the man added.

Izuku spun around with sparkling eyes, practically vibrating with excitement. “Kacchan!! We’re going to the festival!!”

Bakugou exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. “Hope it’s worth it.”

“Of course it will be!!” Izuku chirped, already grabbing him by the wrist. “Goodbye, good sir! Hope to see you there!” he called over his shoulder, dragging Bakugou along before he could protest.

The villager chuckled as he watched them go, shaking his head. Lullu, completely unbothered, simply let out a slow, sleepy moo .

As they made their way back to the inn, Katsuki spoke up, his tone far too casual to be innocent.

“You should go straight to sleep, Deku. Since you worked so hard today.”

Izuku groaned, rubbing his temple. “It was hard work, indeed.”

“Your mana must be completely drained after all that effort you put in.”

Izuku shot him a glare. “Forget that ever happened!”

“Like hell I will.”

“Let’s change the subject!” he blurted out, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere. His eyes flicked toward the marketplace ahead. “We should check if there’s anything worth buying before the festival. Or do you plan on attending bare-chested ?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” Izuku replied with a teasing grin.

“Good.”

“Well then—”

“We’re practically rich now,” Katsuki cut in, smirking. “With what we made chasing that damn cow all day, we may as well buy the entire kingdom .”

Izuku laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.” A comfortable silence settled between as they go on inside their room, than he added, softer this time, “I’m excited for tomorrow.”

Katsuki glanced at him. “So you do like spending gold.”

“I like finding things,” Izuku corrected. “And—” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, “—it’ll be fun having you with me. I don’t get much company.”

Katsuki didn’t answer right away. He just looked at Izuku for a long second before exhaling through his nose, then wordlessly turned over, resting his head against his pillow.

Izuku smiled. That was answer enough.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

“Please, please, please—” Bakugou mocked, his voice dripping with irritation as he yanked another handful of flowers from the ground. “It’s all those people know how to say. ‘Please do this,’ ‘Please help me with that,’ ‘Please make my clothes smell like the prettiest goddamn flowers’ —hell!” His hands were careful despite his rough tone, ensuring each blossom had just the right amount of petals.

Izuku, who had been calmly sorting through the herbs they’d gathered, glanced up at him with an amused look. “Well,” he started, watching Bakugou rip another unfortunate flower from its stem, “it just sounds so sincere.”

Bakugou scoffed, stuffing the flowers into their basket with more force than necessary. “Sure. That guy was totally going to die if you didn’t clean his clothes with magic.”

Izuku crossed his arms. “He looked worried.”

“They lose their shit over anything. You can’t stop for every single one of them.”

“You say that, but you helped that guy with the fire.” Izuku tilted his head, a knowing smile creeping onto his lips.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Tch. People kept bugging you, so I had to take a stand—”

“So thoughtful, Kacchan!” Izuku interrupted, laughing.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “—and show my power.”

Izuku nodded as if that made perfect sense. “That sounds more like you.”

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

As they made their way back to their inn, Izuku suddenly slowed his steps, his eyes locking onto a familiar figure seated at a table outside a cozy-looking restaurant. “Oh! Look, Kacchan!” He tugged lightly at Bakugou’s cape.

Bakugou followed his gaze, frowning at the man from earlier—the same one who had practically begged Izuku to clean his clothes. Now, he was sitting across from a woman, her laughter bright under the warm lantern light.

“I knew it was something important!” Izuku said, voice triumphant.

Bakugou huffed. “What.”

“A date! He wanted to look nice for a date!” Izuku grinned, clasping his hands together.

Bakugou raised an unimpressed brow. “You call that important?”

Izuku sighed dreamily, watching the couple. “I love seeing them fall in love, getting married, moving to a little house with animals, having babies—so cute.”

Bakugou made a face. “Sure.”

Izuku elbowed him lightly. “Don’t you love romantic stories?”

“Not those sappy ones.” Bakugou adjusted the herbs in his arms, making sure they weren’t crushed. “I liked that book of yours, though. The one about the old witch and that freak vampire.”

Izuku’s face lit up. “Oh! You read that one?”

“It was surprisingly educational,” Bakugou muttered, looking away. “Not many ancient witches still around and vampires are turning into pests, I liked the contrast between those two. It was like they were made for each other.”

Izuku gasped dramatically. “Kacchan, that’s such a romantic interpretation!”

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath, but Izuku had already turned his attention back to the couple, his expression soft.

“I learned a lot from them,” he murmured. “Uraraka was the one who taught me so much about potions, and Himiko about ingredients. They’re great people. We should visit them someday—I think they’d like that too, Kacchan.”

“When was the last time you saw them?” Bakugou asked, eyeing him.

Izuku pursed his lips. “Oh… I don’t know. I think it may have been a decade?” He let out an excited laugh. “That just makes me even more excited! They’ve probably advanced so much over the years! I really should write letters more consistently…”

Bakugou only hummed in response, but Izuku wasn’t done. His green eyes gleamed mischievously as he lightly tugged on the red cape draped over Bakugou’s shoulders.

“I know Himiko will go nuts when she sees you.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “If they try experimenting on me, I—”

“I would never let anything happen to you, Kacchan! You know that.” Izuku met his glare with a soft, reassuring smile.

Bakugou’s scowl faltered for a brief second before he clicked his tongue.

“I’ll send them a letter to let them know we’ll visit,” Izuku said cheerfully.

“When the hell did I agree to this?”

“Plea—”

“Don’t you dare.”

Izuku grinned. “I’ll write the letter tonight.” He sang the last word as he continued walking ahead, the bounce in his step unmistakable.

Bakugou let out a long, suffering sigh before following after him.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

The streets around them buzzed with life. Vendors called out their wares, children covered the stone roads in colorful chalk drawings, and flower garlands hung from shop doors, their sweet scent mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries. The festival air was thick with laughter and conversation, but none of it drowned out the very distinct sound of Izuku’s excited rambling.

Izuku carried a few bags on his arms, and Bakugou had ended up hauling at least seven more. Their haul so far included new festival clothes, a variety of rare ingredients, and a ridiculous number of potions—most of which, according to the sellers, specialized in regulating body temperature. Bakugou had grumbled about their usefulness, but the way Izuku’s eyes had sparkled made it clear that arguing would be pointless.

“There!” Izuku suddenly gasped, pointing ahead. His eyes locked onto a caravan filled to the brim with fabric—blankets, duvets, sheets, pillows, cushions. A paradise of softness.

Bakugou groaned. “How are you not done?”

“It’s the last one, I swear!”

“You swore that three stalls ago.”

“Shhh,” Izuku hushed him, already weaving through the crowd toward the shop.

The merchant, a lively woman with a warm smile, greeted them enthusiastically. “Welcome! We don’t come to this region often, and stock is selling fast, so enjoy it while it lasts!”

That was all Izuku needed to hear.

“Oh! Is this pillow stuffed with goose feathers? I’ll take four! And—ah!—these green silk sheets! I need them. And that blanket looks so fluffy—two of those, please.” His arms were already filling up again when he turned to Bakugou. “Do you like anything in particular?”

Bakugou scanned the merchandise with narrowed eyes, poking at a few blankets as if testing their durability. Then, with a shrug, he muttered, “You can pick.”

Izuku beamed. “Great! In that case— we’ll take that cushion right there!”

The way back to the inn was nothing short of a struggle, thanks to the sheer amount of things they—mainly Izuku—had bought. He had tried to balance the weight evenly, but it was clear that Bakugou had taken on more than his fair share, carrying at least seven bags without complaint.

When they finally made it inside, Bakugou barely paused before heading back out. "I’m checking the tavern for missions," he grunted. "You’re not picking the next one alone."

Izuku waved a hand in lazy agreement, barely listening as he kicked the door shut behind him and unceremoniously dropped his bags onto the nearest table. The day had been long, and his arms ached from carrying all his festival finds, but he didn’t let that stop him. He had something more important to do.

Truthfully, he had never given much thought to nests before. He had never needed one, a bed was just as nice and the rest was optional, there were times that even the bed was a option. His travels had been lonely, his nights spent wherever he could find shelter, often too exhausted to care about comfort. But things were different now. He couldn’t just let his companion live like that. The cold of the kingdom’s nights gave him the perfect excuse to go all out.

He started by pushing Bakugou’s bed flush against his own, the wooden frame groaning slightly in protest. It wasn’t as extravagant as the silk-laden nests from books, nor as sturdy as the ones he imagined real dragons built, but it would do. Then came the fun part.

With practiced efficiency, he unpacked the thick, fluffy blankets, layering them over the mattress until the bed was nearly drowning in warmth. He scattered the new pillows—soft and feather-filled—arranging them haphazardly but with clear intent. The green silk sheets he had picked out earlier were draped carefully over everything, adding a luxurious final touch.

Izuku stepped back to admire his work, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It wasn’t perfect, but it felt right.

Now, he just had to hope Bakugou wouldn’t barge in too soon. Though, if the dragon took too long, Izuku might have to check that his big mouth hadn’t landed them in trouble. Again.

Someone had to test if is really comfortable…

With that, Izuku decided to lay for a bit but that turned into a nap almost immediately.

Izuku’s nap was abruptly cut short as the door swung open with enough force to rattle the hinges.

“—nothing good, apparently! And when you tell them that, they go ‘Oh, so you want us to suffer so you can make money!’ WHEN DID I SAY THA—”

“Kacchan!” Izuku sat up in their bed, groggily running a hand through his messy hair. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, offering a warm smile. “You’re finally back.”

Bakugou turned to him, mid-rant—then froze.

For a moment, his entire body seemed to seize up, his mouth half-open like the words had been stolen from his tongue. His sharp red eyes scanned the room, lingering on the pile of blankets, the neatly arranged pillows, the sheer effort Izuku had put into making everything warm and comfortable.

“You—” His voice came out strained, like he had to force the words out. “You built a nest.”

Izuku beamed. “Do you like it? Come test it out. If you want anything changed, just say so.”

Bakugou stood rooted to the spot, staring at the nest like it was some impossible thing. His ears were red—so were his cheeks, and even the tips of his fingers.

“That’s—what.”

Izuku tilted his head. “It’s for you! Well, for both of us, but mostly as a surprise for you.” His smile faltered slightly. “Do you… not like it?”

Bakugou exhaled sharply through his nose, his shoulders tense. “It’s not—” He clenched his jaw, then let out a breath and muttered, “I do like it.”

Izuku barely held back a triumphant grin as Bakugou finally moved, stepping toward the nest and hesitantly sitting down. The moment he did, his whole body eased, his usual rigid posture melting into something softer.

Victory had never tasted sweeter. Izuku had never felt so exited to sleep.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

On the evening of the festival, Izuku wanted to show Bakugou everything he possibly could. The dances wouldn’t start until nightfall, so for now, they wandered through the streets, admiring the decorations, sampling unique festival foods, and watching people dressed in their finest attire for the occasion.

Izuku had somehow managed to convince Bakugou to match outfits with him—or, well, they were both wearing capes. He counted it as a victory.

“There he is! The kind man who has helped us all!”

Izuku turned toward the voice, spotting a tall decorated pole with a fire burning at the top.

“Let’s cheer for him!” someone called, and the crowd around them erupted into applause.

It wasn’t until they moved closer that Izuku realized the commotion was for Bakugou.

“Thank you for your help with the fire, kind boy,” an elderly woman said, stepping forward and offering him what looked like a delicious apple pie.

“And for helping with my restaurant,” another villager added, handing him a small, neatly wrapped box.

Bakugou accepted everything with a cocky grin, clearly reveling in the attention. “Thank you, extras!” he laughed, using the nickname he had given them.

Then, with no hesitation, he shoved the gifts into Izuku’s arms.

“Here, hold these for me, elf.”

Izuku let out a small sigh but couldn’t help smiling. Even as Bakugou basked in his newfound festival fame, it was clear he had made a real difference for these people. And seeing him enjoy himself—even just a little—made Izuku happier than he could admit.

When they stumbled upon the drinking competition, Izuku barely gave it a thought. Just another part of the lively festival, with laughter and cheers filling the air. Bakugou, however, stopped dead in his tracks, eyes gleaming with a feral intensity.

“You and me,” he declared, pointing dramatically at the elf, “we’re taking out all these extras. Tonight.”

Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden challenge. “Wait, have you even had alcohol before?”

The dragon’s sharp grin widened. “Some friends introduced me. Don’t think for a second I can’t handle it.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You do know elves have an incredible tolerance, right? I might even outdrink you.”

“ Tch. You’ll be lucky to get second.”

And that’s how they ended up in the competition, seated side by side at a long, sturdy table surrounded by boisterous festival-goers. The crowd cheered loudly as the participants were handed their first glasses—tankards the size of a baby’s head, brimming with frothy liquid.

The signal was given, and Bakugou downed his first glass like it was water, slamming it onto the table with a loud thunk. Izuku kept pace, but as the rounds continued, he began to notice something unsettling: Bakugou wasn’t slowing down.

“Do dragons even get drunk?” Izuku muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the dragon beside him.

Bakugou caught the look and smirked. “You worried already? Thought elves were supposed to be tough.”

By the end of the competition, Bakugou stood victorious. He looked tipsy at best, his confident smirk firmly in place, while Izuku was slumped in his chair, struggling to stay upright.

“Second place. Ha. ” Bakugou crossed his arms, soaking in the crowd’s adoration.

“You cheated,” Izuku grumbled, glaring up at him.

“Can’t hear you over the sound of all this glory,” Bakugou retorted, flexing his biceps for the cheering crowd. “Take it in, extras!”

Izuku groaned, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m going to drink some water from the lake. Maybe I’ll feel halfway alive again.”

“Disgusting,” Bakugou snorted while Midoriya started to walk away. “Wait up, dumbass. I’ll make sure you don’t drown yourself like an idiot.”

As the dragon caught up, smirk firmly in place, Izuku shot him a look. “Gods, your face doesn’t even tremble when you cheat.”

“People don’t usually put you in your place, huh, Deku?”

“SIR, YOUR PRIZE!” a woman called after them, running to catch up. She handed Bakugou a fruit basket, bowing slightly.

“Prize, huh?” Bakugou said, taking it without hesitation. “I really am the best. You can go now, human.”

“Thank you!” Izuku shouted after her, with his voice as bright as his tipsy grin, he turned to look at the other again and point a finger to his chest. “Next time, I’ll beat you, and you’ll be like, ‘Oh, Izuku, you’re the best,’ and I’ll be like, ‘Hahaha, in your face.’ It’s going to be great.”

“Sure, sure,” Bakugou muttered as they continued toward the lake. His voice softened slightly. “Keep telling yourself that. ”

When they arrived, Izuku crouched by the water’s edge, splashing his face. “Should I even drink this? Frogs live here.” His head tilted to the side looking in the direction he heard the frogs singing.

“You’re so fucking lame, Deku.”

Izuku rolled his eyes and took a sip. It was just as awful as he expected, but he made a brave face, unwilling to give Bakugou the satisfaction.

“Feel any better?” Bakugou asked, his smirk cocky as ever.

“Not really,” Izuku admitted, defeated.

Bakugou barked out a laugh.

“Don’t,” Izuku warned, standing up. “Let’s just walk around. It’s been ages since I’ve been to a festival.”

“ Tch, fine,” Bakugou grumbled, offering his arm. “Grab it so you don’t embarrass me.”

Izuku grinned, linking his arm through Bakugou’s as they wandered back toward the festivities, the dragon's smirk softening just slightly.

“Bet I cant beat you on a-” he didn’t get to finish because the dragon just stuck an apple in his mouth before he even got the chance.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Together, they wandered through the festival, the air thick with the scent of sizzling meats, fresh bread, and something sweet caramelizing over an open flame. The streets bustled with laughter and music, and Izuku—eyes practically sparkling—had already stuffed his arms full of food.

Currently, he juggled three sticks of octopus—fried, raw, and something that was still moving . Katsuki refused to ask.

“Kacchan! Look!” Izuku beamed, pointing excitedly toward the festival’s center. The music there was louder, a fast-paced rhythm carrying the energy of the crowd. People danced in chaotic, joyful movements, couples spinning each other around like they had nothing to lose. “We should dance together!”

Katsuki felt the heat climb from his fingertips to his ears. “You’re being ridiculous .”

“Then I’ll just go on my own!” Izuku declared dramatically, already wobbling toward the crowd. “Here—hold my octopus.”

“What?! No, I’m not —” But before he could finish, Izuku shoved the sticks into his hands and was already disappearing into the throng of dancers.

“You can’t even stand without help, dumbass!” Katsuki barked, watching as the elf swayed unsteadily, half from the alcohol and half from sheer enthusiasm.

“The music—! I—! Oh nooo, my body is moving on its own !” Izuku giggled, twirling clumsily into the crowd. “Nooooo!”

Katsuki clicked his tongue in irritation but didn’t move. At least, not at first.

Then Izuku turned back, arms outstretched, hands empty, green eyes shining even under the lantern lights. His messy footwork didn’t match the rhythm, but he didn’t care—he just wanted Katsuki there .

With an exasperated sigh, Katsuki shoved the octopus sticks into the hands of some passing drunk and stomped forward.

“You dance like a fish flopping on dry land,” he grumbled.

Izuku just grinned, grabbing both of Katsuki’s hands—both still slightly greasy from the octopus. “You’re just jealous, Kacchan~.”

“I swear —”

“Shhh,” Izuku interrupted, lifting their arms and swaying gently from side to side. “Just stop thinking and let the octopus guide us tonight.”

Katsuki’s face burned an embarrassing shade of pink, definitely from the alcohol . He huffed but—without argument—mirrored Izuku’s clumsy steps.

They didn’t match the music at all.

But somehow, they fit just fine.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

After the festival, there wasn’t much left to do in the kingdom besides taking on the usual missions. Everything seemed to be running smoothly—the queen was expecting her fourth heir, and the king remained occupied with international trades, which had flourished thanks to the festival’s success. It was a prosperous, ever-growing kingdom. Perhaps that was why there were so many children running around, their laughter ringing through the streets, only interrupted by the occasional sniffle when one of them fell. The lively atmosphere was something Izuku adored.

Behind him, Bakugou followed with a stack of books balanced against his face, his eyes obscured by the towering pile. At this point, he was probably just tracking the sound of Izuku’s footsteps. The elf himself carried a lighter load, but in sheer quantity, his stack far exceeded Bakugou’s.

“The bookshop is just ahead!” Izuku chirped, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He loved this work—spreading knowledge, ensuring stories reached people, and hoping to see the impact in years to come.

Reaching the shop’s entrance, he nudged the door open with his shoulder and held it for Bakugou. “I don’t see the owner around, though.”

There were a few customers browsing the shelves, but no one behind the counter.

“They’re probably on a break or something,” Bakugou grumbled, dropping his stack onto the wooden counter with a heavy thump . He rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms after the effort. His eyes flicked to the smaller books in Izuku’s hands. “What’s with those?”

“They’re illustrated versions! They have a few lines of dialogue, but you can understand the story just by looking at the pictures,” Izuku explained, his enthusiasm unwavering. “Illiteracy is still a problem in a lot of places, so this is a good alternative.”

Bakugou frowned slightly, picking one up and flipping through the pages. “Never seen these before.”

Izuku chuckled. “You’ve already read all of them.”

Before Bakugou could respond, the shopkeeper finally emerged from the back room, wiping ink-stained fingers on a cloth.

“Oh! That’s quite a haul,” he said, eyeing the stack of books with surprise.

Izuku tapped a hand on top of the pile. “Thank you, sir.”

“I mean—uh, I’m not sure we’ll be able to buy all of these.”

“No need to worry about that,” Izuku assured him with a bright smile.

“I’ll just check through them real quick. Give me a minute.”

“Of course!”

As the shopkeeper began inspecting the books, Izuku turned to find Bakugou still engrossed in one of the illustrated editions.

“Soon you’ll be holding your own book,” he teased, watching Bakugou’s fingers pause on the page. “Which reminds me—I have a lot of questions to ask.”

Bakugou shot him a knowing glance. “Figures.”

Izuku beamed. “We should plan a proper discussion! Maybe even make a day out of it. We could have a picnic, or—oh! I heard there’s a bathhouse nearby. It’s supposed to be great for relaxation. The hot water helps release tension, and we could even get a massage—”

“We can talk about it in our room.”

“If that’s what you want, sure,” Izuku said easily, rocking on his heels. “I’ll get us some treats and tea for later.”

“Everything seems good. Now about the price..”

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

After leaving the rest of the books at the library, Katsuki wasted no time excusing himself to their room. Lately, he spent more and more time in the nest, sinking into its warmth like it was the only place in the world that made sense. Maybe he missed it, or maybe it was just nice—having something stable, something his.

Izuku didn’t linger either. He made a quick stop at a bakery, picking up a few honey cakes and chamomile tea. The inn’s small kitchen still had some bread if Katsuki wanted something else, though Izuku doubted he’d be picky. Spicy food was nowhere to be found, and he wasn’t in the mood to scour the city for it. He wanted to go back.

Their next destination was already on his mind. They had been staying in one place for too long—there were too many lands to explore, too many discoveries waiting for them. He had even figured out a way to transport the nest. A perfect spell. Kacchan was going to lose his mind.

Smiling to himself, he knocked on the door before pushing it open.

Katsuki was sprawled across the bed, his wings loosely folded, tail curled at the foot of the nest. His eyes cracked open at the sound, but he didn’t move, just watching as Izuku busied himself setting up their tea. Honey cakes on one plate, tea steaming in two cups.

Satisfied, Izuku changed into lighter, cleaner clothes before grabbing the notebook Katsuki had given him. He climbed onto the bed, settling beside him.

“Do you usually travel?” Izuku asked, curiosity laced in his voice.

Katsuki exhaled, gaze flickering toward the ceiling. “My lair’s the farthest I’ve ever been,” he said. “I was born in a faraway land. Left to find a place of my own a few months after that. Only time I really traveled.”

Izuku blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “I don’t get it—months?”

Katsuki snorted, his voice steady, but something unreadable lingered beneath it. “Dragons don’t spend too much time with their hatchlings. They can’t. It’s in their nature to be territorial. Plain and simple.”

“A baby shouldn’t be left alone…” Izuku murmured, the thought settling uncomfortably in his chest.

Katsuki scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “My parents thought the same.” His voice was steady, but Izuku could hear the weight behind it. “Led to a nasty fight between us. I had to leave, one way or another. They tried to control themselves, but it didn’t work.”

Izuku stayed quiet, letting Katsuki speak at his own pace.

“If you wanna know about a real dragon, I can take you to a place,” Katsuki continued, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Izuku, distant. “But I’m probably not what you’re looking for.”

Izuku’s heart ached at that. How could he not see it?

“You’re everything I’m looking for, you dummy.” He reached out, taking Katsuki’s hand without hesitation, holding it firmly between his own. Warmth. Sweaty and real. “I’m glad you’re the one I found, Kacchan.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Katsuki muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

For once, Izuku found it hard to put his feelings into words. So instead, he stood up, rummaging through his bag with purpose. The moment his fingers closed around the worn edges of his sketchbook, he practically leaped back to Katsuki, thrusting it into his hands.

Katsuki arched a skeptical brow. “This the book you’re working on?”

“Just open it.”

With a huff, Katsuki flipped it open. The skepticism in his face slowly faded as he turned page after page—each one filled with sketches of him. A found look was soon in his face.

“I hope we can spend more time together… if you’ll let me, of course.” Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, pressing close. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with something undeniably earnest. “You’re all I wished for and more, Kacchan.”

Without thinking, he buried his face against Katsuki’s neck, inhaling the familiar warmth of him.

To his surprise, a quiet chuckle rumbled from the dragon’s chest. Then, just as unexpected, a strong hand settled on his back, rubbing slow and steady.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stayed there, breathing each other in. Than kacchan said in a quiet tone.  “I want to take you to a place after this”

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

It wasn’t unusual to wake up and find Bakugou gone. Lately it became a little routine of theirs.

This morning was no different. The sound of footsteps echoed through the small home they’d rented in the city, and soon enough, Bakugou appeared, holding several rabbits by their ears, there was no blood in his hands or on the rabbits, this made Izuku smile a bit, last time he had told Kacchan that he wanted to use the pelt and that the blood was making things more difficult.

It would be easier to just tell him, Hey Kacchan, why don’t we just buy bread and eggs from the market? You know, experience the city life like comun people? It really would.

“Thanks Kacchan! they look even better today” But he looked so proud of himself in those mornings “I’ll prepare to take the skin off. Do you want to cook today, or—?” He paused, catching that particular look on Bakugou’s face.

“ I cook ” Bakugou replied, his tone as gruff as ever but with a certain sharpness that told Izuku the dragon was already planning the meal in his head.

Izuku bit back a chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he gathered the rabbits. As he ran his fingers over the soft brown fur, an idea sparked. Bakugou had told that the place they were going was cold around this time of the year, and his old boots had seen better days. These pelts could be repurposed into something sturdy and warm. The thought made him smile.

“I’ll spend the evening here getting a few things prepared,” Izuku said, setting the skinned rabbits aside with practiced ease. “Can you deliver some potions I made? It’s the last batch” He said while putting his work bag on the table, that should keep him away until it was time to eat again . It still surprised the elf how much a balanced diet was important to the dragon.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Fine. After we eat, I’ll do your job.”

“Kacchan! Be nice,” Izuku teased, smiling as he grabbed his tools to carefully prepare the pelts.

“I’m too fucking nice,” Bakugou grumbled, dropping onto the bed with his usual dramatic flair. He grabbed a book and opened it to the page he had marked. “My heart doesn’t even fit in my chest.”

Izuku snorted as he worked. “Sure, sure. You’re practically a saint.”

“Damn right,” Bakugou shot back without looking up, already engrossed in his reading.

Izuku shook his head, still smiling. These mornings—chaotic and full of Bakugou’s particular brand of intensity—had become something he secretly looked forward to. Even when Bakugou grumbled, even when he complained, he always showed up, whether it was with freshly caught rabbits or his blunt but strangely considerate actions.

As he carefully worked on the pelts, Izuku’s mind wandered. These will look good on him, he thought absently. They’ll match his coat.

Meanwhile, Bakugou flipped a page in his book, muttering something under his breath about the character in the book. Izuku only laughed quietly, content in the rhythm they’d found together.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

They were almost ready to depart. Izuku had put in extra effort to look presentable for the occasion, even donning his special shoulder pads made from crocodile scales and a flowing yellow cape. The rest of his outfit remained practical, his classic green corset over a crisp white long-sleeved shirt. With only a single bag strapped to his back and his staff firmly in hand, he felt more than prepared.

Bakugou was waiting for him in a more secluded area, away from the bustle of the town. Organizing everything had taken time, but Izuku had managed to wrap things up efficiently. As he made his way through the streets, a few familiar faces called out their goodbyes, and he returned them with bright, heartfelt well-wishes.

Of course, Bakugou had chosen a beautiful day for their departure. The sky stretched endlessly above, painted in soft blues and warm golds, while birds danced effortlessly through the air, swooping and gliding in search of food. The sight was mesmerizing, but Izuku was too focused on his destination to be fully captivated. He hurried, scanning his surroundings frantically—until a familiar shade of red caught his eye.

There he was.

Izuku slowed his steps.

He had seen this form once before, and back then, it had been breathtaking. Now, with the morning light shimmering off crimson scales, the sheer magnificence of it brought an unexpected sting to his eyes. He barely registered the tears slipping down his cheeks as he approached.

The dragon turned to him, his massive form towering over Izuku. The elf felt tiny beneath that gaze, but not in a way that unsettled him. Instead, warmth blossomed in his chest.

A moment later, a broad snout pressed against him, sniffing curiously. Izuku laughed softly, reaching up to pet the smooth scales along the dragon’s nose. Bakugou snorted in response, a warm puff of air brushing against Izuku’s face, making him giggle.

The greeting exchanged, Izuku turned to mount the dragon’s back. Neither of them had done this before, so there wasn’t much to go off of—just instinct. He carefully found his footing, adjusting his grip. Once he felt steady, he tapped three times, signaling that he was ready.

And then they were in the air.

Izuku had been thrown around before—sent flying by enemies, even launched skyward by his own teacher during training. But none of that prepared him for this.

The moment they took off, his stomach lurched, and a startled scream ripped from his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching onto Bakugou for dear life as the wind howled past his ears. His heart pounded furiously, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

It took a few seconds to steady himself. Slowly, cautiously, he forced his eyes open.

And what he saw stole the air from his lungs.

The world stretched out infinitely beneath them—rolling hills, winding rivers, endless forests blending together in a breathtaking expanse of color and movement. Clouds drifted lazily at their level, and for the first time in his life, Izuku wasn’t just looking up at the sky. He was in it.

He tried to speak, to express the sheer wonder consuming him, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the rushing air puffed out his cheeks, making it impossible to form words or even close it again.

That was when he noticed Bakugou’s eye flicking to him from the side. Even without words, Izuku could already hear the dragon’s smug, teasing laughter in the back of his mind.

Bakugou hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was far away.

By the time they finally landed, Izuku all but threw himself onto the ground, sprawling across the soft grass, waiting for his body to catch up with the sudden absence of movement. His legs felt wobbly, his stomach still churned, and his head was light from the altitude shift. Flying was incredible, but the landing? That was another story.

“Get up already!” Bakugou’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and impatient.

Izuku cracked open one eye to see the dragon—now back in his human form—rolling his shoulders as he stretched his wings. The golden sunlight caught on the scarlet webbing, making them look almost translucent at the edges.

“We’re close,” Bakugou continued, glancing toward the distance. “You should be able to hear them any time now.”

Them? Izuku barely had the energy to ask, too focused on catching his breath. He heard a faint thunk and turned his head just in time to see Bakugou cracking open a watermelon with his bare hands, splitting it cleanly in two. The red flesh glistened under the sun, sweet juice dripping onto his fingers. Without a word, he shoved half toward Izuku.

“Your mouth must be dry,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your ability to run that damn mouth of yours.”

Izuku tried to retort, but the other was painfully right. His throat felt like sandpaper, his lips parched from the wind, and all he could do was cough in protest. Before he could make any attempts at hydration, he suddenly felt something cool pressed against his lips.

His water canteen.

Bakugou had grabbed it from his pack without a word.

The elf gulped greedily, the water tasting like heaven itself. He coughed once, then twice, but eventually managed to speak.

“Kacchan… are you an angel?” The words left his lips before he could stop them, his voice hoarse from thirst.

Bakugou gave him a deadpan look, clearly unimpressed, wings pulsing lightly. “Shut up and eat.”

Izuku just grinned, getting to his feet and holding up his half of the fruit. “And thank you for the food.” The dragon only huffed in response, but Izuku didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed just a little.

The landscape stretched out before them, a breathtaking expanse of towering mountains and graceful willows swaying beside a river so clear it looked like liquid glass. The water shimmered under the afternoon light, untouched by human hands, pristine and wild. Izuku had never seen this place before.

The only sounds filling the air were the whisper of the wind weaving through the trees, the steady rush of the river, and the occasional buzz of insects hidden among the leaves. It was peaceful—serene in a way that made Izuku imagine how beautiful the night must be here, bathed in silver moonlight.

Bakugou started walking, his pace steady and purposeful. Izuku knew better than to ask questions.

Izuku took a deep breath, sharpening his senses. Whatever they were waiting for, he’d be ready.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Well, he definitely wasn’t ready to be jumped .

One moment, Izuku was taking in the peaceful scenery; the next, a blur of pink launched itself at him with terrifying speed. He barely had time to register the transition from dragon to semi-human mid-air before she crashed into him, sending him straight to the ground with a surprised oof!

“ IS THIS HIM?! ” she practically shrieked, her golden eyes gleaming with excitement. “KIRI WASN’T LYING! HE IS A CUTIE!!”

Izuku barely had time to process the words before three more figures emerged from the trees.

“Man, you never come here,” a blond one commented with a lopsided grin. “Please don’t tell us you’re dying or something.”

He promptly received a sharp elbow from Kirishima.

“Bakugou, dude! You actually came! And you brought Mido with you.” The redhead grinned, throwing a knowing look at the dragon.

Bakugou crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. “Yeah, yeah. And what the hell is with you guys jumping on him?”

“Sorry!!!” The pink girl, still pinning Izuku down, beamed unapologetically before effortlessly pulling him back to his feet. And then, without hesitation, she lifted him into a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve been dying to meet you!”

Izuku was not used to this level of attention. Nor was he used to this many voices at once while being completely sober. His head was already spinning.

Still, he managed to collect himself, flashing a warm smile. “I’m Izuku Midoriya! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you’re Kacchan’s friends?” He glanced at the others before adding, “I hope to be your friend too!”

Silence.

Then—

“Dude.” The dark-haired one—Sero, if Izuku remembered correctly from what Kirishima had told him—stared at him like he had just sprouted a second head.

The blond one, Kaminari, stood frozen, his mouth slightly open.

Mina, however, exploded .

Her pink wings flared out in excitement. “ OH. MY. ”

Izuku blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m so happy for you, man,” Kirishima said, throwing a proud arm around Bakugou’s shoulder. “That’s really manly of you.”

Bakugou looked like he was five seconds away from breathing fire.

“Yeah, we have to throw a celebration tonight,” Kaminari declared, as if it were an undeniable fact of the universe.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Bakugou warned, his eyes narrowing.

“I’ll get the drinks!” Kirishima chimed in enthusiastically.

“Bakugou will cook!” Kaminari shot back, grinning like he had just won a bet.

“It’s a party !!!” Mina finally released Izuku—only so she could spin away and grab the others, dancing in a wild circle as they sang together in chaotic harmony.

Izuku couldn’t help but laugh at the infectious energy, shaking his head as he made his way to Bakugou’s side.

“So… this is normal for you?” he asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “ Unfortunately. ”

As night fell, Izuku found himself resting beneath one of the willow trees, its long, lanceolate leaves swaying gently in the evening breeze. The air was filled with the rhythmic hum of cicadas, and fireflies flickered like tiny stars among the grass. He hadn’t meant to nap, but the peaceful atmosphere lulled him into a light doze, the cool earth beneath him a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth of the day.

Above, dragons soared in graceful arcs, making preparations for the celebration. Even though Bakugou pretended to be annoyed by the whole ordeal, he still took charge of seasoning and cooking the food, his sharp focus evident in every precise movement. Izuku felt a little guilty for not helping, but he reminded himself that this was also an opportunity—to gather his thoughts, to observe how they all worked together. He didn’t take notes now, but he would in the morning.

The pale moonlight shimmered against the river’s surface, turning the water into a sheet of silver. It looked almost magical. A bath there would be nice… I’ll ask Kacchan about it later.

From the distance, Kirishima’s voice echoed, announcing the arrival of the drinks. Stirring from his resting place, Izuku quickly made his way toward the firepit— and Bakugou . Earlier, Sero had mentioned that he’d be handling the drinks, giving everyone a chance to relax and enjoy the night.

Mina, now settled at the center of the group, set up a small music box. A soft melody drifted into the background, blending seamlessly with the natural sounds of the night. The main instrument—a flute—sang clear and sweet through the air.

“So, Mido,” Mina began, her golden eyes glinting with curiosity. “Tell us how you met Bakugou.”

Izuku let out a nervous laugh. “It’s actually kind of funny—haha—I was sent by a village to kill him.”

A beat of silence.

Then, in unison—

“WHAT?!”

Izuku waved his hands frantically. “B-but I wasn’t going to do it! I could never kill a dragon! And thanks to Kacchan, I’ve actually started working on something that might help prevent things like that from happening in the future.”

“Oh?” Kirishima leaned forward, intrigued. “How so?”

“We’re writing a book! Well, I’m writing it—haha. It’s about him after all, Ignorance is still the biggest disease, and if I can help people understand, maybe things will start to change.” he said the las part quietly.

Mina sniffled dramatically, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “That’s…”

“So manly ,” Kirishima finished for her, wiping away a stray tear of his own.

Izuku let out a small laugh. The sudden emotional shift was overwhelming, but oddly heartwarming.

“I never thought this day would come,” Mina continued, shaking her head. “But here we are. You even smell like him!”

A new voice cut in from behind, making Izuku jolt. “And he barely even screamed today!” Denki grinned, throwing an arm around him. “I’ve never seen this guy so calm—I mean, he even came to visit!”

“I know, right?” Mina giggled. “It’s almost unsettling. ”

Sero, passing out drinks, casually added, “By the way, do you know where you’re sleeping tonight? I saw you liked the whole outdoor look.”

Izuku perked up. “Kacchan probably knows! I have our nest ready to go wherever he wants it to be!” He grinned proudly, pleased with his foresight.

Mina absolutely exploded.

“THAT’S SO CUUUUUTE!” she screeched, launching herself at Izuku, grabbing his face in both hands. “What colors did you choose? I bet there’s so much green! Baku always— ”

Before she could finish, a blur of red and gold shot past them. In a flash, Izuku was yanked clean off the ground, strong arms lifting him effortlessly.

Bakugou landed on a thick tree branch nearby, scowling down at the group below.

“ YOU’LL BREAK THE DAMN NERD IF YOU KEEP SHRIEKING IN HIS FACE LIKE THAT! ” he barked.

Izuku, still dangling in his arms, blinked.

Mina, unfazed, smirked up at them. “Ohhh, protective, are we? ”

Bakugou growled. Izuku, meanwhile, was too busy melting in embarrassment to respond. But also he felt deply so confused.

The noise of negotiations happening below faded into the background. Now cradled in Bakugou’s arms, bridal style , Izuku found himself questioning the nuances of dragon social behavior.

Had he misunderstood something?

Izuku struggled to grasp every unspoken rule. Even after all this time, he still fumbled when speaking with people in general. Yet, traveling with Katsuki had made him feel the least ostracized he had ever been.

He remembered the bar incident—how one wrong word to a drunken fool had nearly escalated into a brawl. But before things could spiral, Kacchan had simply placed his chin on top of Izuku’s head and let out a low, rumbling growl. No words, just that . And somehow, it had worked. Kacchan sniffed people and always reacted with an unimpressed scowl. He picked fights—random, heated fights—because he never filtered his thoughts.

And yet… Izuku never felt more like a person than he did around him.

Was this not normal?

He needed a drink.

Bakugou landed with his usual lack of grace, the impact of his boots stirring up dust. Despite his rough mannerisms, he was careful when setting Izuku back on his feet. The elf, however, refused to meet his gaze—his face felt unbearably hot, and all he wanted was a moment to breathe.

“Bet I can outdrink you tonight,” Izuku blurted out, desperate for a distraction.

He barely had time to register Bakugou’s reaction before a firm hand pressed against his forehead, tilting his face up. Crimson eyes locked onto his, intense and searching.

“You must be ill,” Bakugou scoffed, but beneath the usual bite, there was something else—concern, barely veiled. “You’re talking nonsense.”

Izuku swallowed, heat creeping up his neck for an entirely different reason now. “It’s okay to be scared, I guess... I can always challenge the others instead.”

That did it.

“We’re doing this.”

From somewhere in the background, he heard Sero mutter, “Do we even have enough for this?”

Losing had a bitter taste—especially when it left his head so heavy he could barely hold it up straight.

“I was so close this time,” Izuku muttered, clenching his fists in determination.

Bakugou, clearly at least tipsy, scoffed. “I tried to protect your dumb pride, but you’re just too stubborn.” He leaned back with a smirk. “Learn how to lose, Deku.”

A comforting hand landed on Izuku’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better,” Denki said, grinning, “I’ve never seen an elf drink this much.”

Izuku paused, then shot up from where he sat, his determination instantly renewed. “So this is a win.” He threw his arms up dramatically. “TAKE THAT!”

And just like that, he started dancing to the mix of background music and the rhythmic hum of cicadas, his movements loose and wild.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn’t bother hiding the amused huff that left him. “Sure. And this so-called winner still needs to eat and drink water,” he teased, already moving to get something for the elf.

Izuku turned to him, a dopey, lopsided grin taking over his face. “Kacchan is so sweet.”

Bakugou froze for a fraction of a second before clicking his tongue and stomping off.

Meanwhile, Mina had already joined Izuku in his celebration dance, giggling as they twirled together under the stars. It felt good—no, it felt right.

He wanted to dance with Kacchan tonight.

As soon as Izuku started yawning, Bakugou was at his side.

“We’re going to sleep,” he announced, firm and final. “Don’t be so loud.”

The others, still full of energy, barely reacted beyond a few lazy waves and muttered goodnights before returning to their festivities.

Bakugou led Izuku to a cave at the mouth of the mountain, where the view of the river stretched out beneath them. The water shimmered under the moonlight, fireflies drifting lazily above the grass. It was breathtaking—calm and untouched.

“You want me to put our nest anywhere specific?” Izuku asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m shifting,” Bakugou said, rolling his shoulders. “Just put wherever.”

“Okay!”

With a soft puff , Bakugou shifted into his dragon form, his massive figure settling in the middle of the cave like a resting feline. His scales caught the dim light, a contrast of sharp edges and the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

Izuku followed his instructions, setting their nest just beside Bakugou’s belly. The moment he sank into the soft pillows, exhaustion weighed down his limbs, pulling him into a haze.

Just before his eyes fully closed, he felt a shift in the air. Then, warm and steady, Bakugou’s wing curled over him, shielding him from the night’s chill.

Even if he didn’t understand it completely, he would trade this for nothing.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

He woke up alone, as expected. That was all he needed in the moment—to collect his thoughts and act rationally.

But his body had other ideas. It felt disconnected, as if his own form had turned against him. The sickness gnawed at his insides, a deep, overwhelming sensation that made him want to throw up. His head throbbed in a way that suggested he’d made a serious mistake the night before.

I will never drink again.

Pushing through the haze of nausea, Izuku gathered what little courage he could and dragged himself toward the river. The cold, clear water would help, he hoped. The plan was simple: stick his head underwater, clear the dizziness, and refresh himself. He held his breath as long as he could, the agony of holding it in a welcome distraction from the pounding in his skull.

Opening his eyes underwater, he spotted small fish darting in and out of the algae. As he smiled at them, they scattered, as though they could sense his discomfort. Fair enough.

But the urge to breathe became impossible to ignore, and just as his vision began to blur from the lack of air, he was pulled from the water.

Izuku gasped, coughing up the water as his mind struggled to process what just happened. The first thing he noticed was the pink blur above him.

“Mido, babe, I’m not gonna ask if you don’t want to, but just know that we’re here for you.” The soft wings blocked the rising sun from his face, casting a shadow that felt comforting.

Izuku blinked, trying to steady his breathing. “It’s not like you think! I just needed to clear my thoughts. That’s all.”

“Well… who am I to judge your choices? You can talk to me if it helps.”

Izuku’s breath hitched for a moment before something else caught his attention. “Wait, this is actually perfect! I need to know…” He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. “How does Kacchan act with you guys?”

Mina tilted her head, clearly curious. “I see! Well, normally, we visit him a little after the mating season has passed. He’s a bit more annoyed than usual and as stressed as always, but we help cheer him up.” As she spoke, Izuku rummaged through his emergency bag, looking for a potion.

“Mating season?” he asked, his suspicion deepening. He had an inkling from what Kirishima had said, but hearing it out loud still caught him off guard.

Mina nodded. “Yeah, it’s something we do. It’s hard for dragons to lay fertilized eggs, so we’re pretty few in number. Some don’t partake in it everytime, but it comes with annoying side effects. The elder dragons get really sensitive about not accepting your nature and all that blah-blah stuff. It’s easier if you have a companion. So, I’m glad you’re here. A lot of dragons take a long time to find the right one.”

Izuku nodded thoughtfully, considering whether he should include this in the book. He uncorked the purple-colored potion and drank it down, but just as the taste hit him, he froze.

“Wait, what?”

Mina continued, oblivious to his growing discomfort. “You probably don’t know, but we were starting to get worried about him. Sure, some dragons don’t engage during mating season, but never for so long. We could all see he was getting tired, too.”

“But… he’s been so patient,” Izuku murmured, confusion creeping into his voice.

“Exactly!” Mina replied with a soft smile. 

“And kind.” his hands covered his mouth as the information came to him.

“Uh I would hope he treated his mate like that”

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. “And I’m his mate?”

Mina looked at him, as though it should’ve been obvious. “Yes?”

Izuku blinked, processing. “How do you know that?”

“Well, you made it pretty clear when you told us about the nest,” she explained, a playful gleam in her eyes. “And, I mean, you even danced with him. Like, I’m not a prude, but you’ve got some attitude there, elf boy.”

Izuku’s mind went blank. “Oh… yeah, that makes sense.” But it didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t Bakugou told him? “I understand,” he muttered, though it didn’t feel like he understood at all. His hands were starting to feel cold, the weight of the conversation pressing on him.

Mina noticed. “You seem to be losing it a little. You should be careful with the alcohol,” she said, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Thanks, I will.” Izuku tried to smile, but the cold feeling in his limbs was spreading, and he felt his face turn paper white.

“It’s tough,” Mina said as she stood, her wings fluttering softly. “Bakugou should be back soon. He left with Kiri to look for something… I forget what.” she continued to speak as she made her way back to the other part of the field.

Izuku nodded absently, needing more time to process everything. His mate. He still wasn’t sure what that even meant. He dropped his body on the gound as the weight of it all slowly sank in.

Did Izuku like Katsuki?

Well, 

yes.

Did he feel more alive than ever in the company of the dragon? 

Absolutely.

But he was pretty sure people asked before marrying each other.

Yeah, technically Izuku had been asking a lot of things, and yes, Katsuki had apparently accepted it all. But everything was so new.

One day, you’re living only for the promise of a good future, traveling alone for years, with friends that die in the blink of an eye and others who are also trying to make a change, so you see each other often. The next, you’re married to a dragon.

Izuku sat with his eyes fixed on the sky above him. Bakugou would be back soon. He knew he would.

This was just so—he didn’t even know that much about him. About how to court him. Would he like to receive flowers? Sweets? Watch the stars together? Maybe—he couldn’t do it. It was too quick, too messy.

When he spotted two familiar dragons flying back, Izuku knew he was going to die. Maybe not by their hands, but his own thoughts would surely spare him from the misery. He shut his eyes and held his breath. He felt so powerless without his staff in hand.

Out of nowhere, a piece of bread smacked against his forehead.

“Ouch.” He opened his eyes and looked up, meeting those sharp red ones. “What was that for?”

“Your breakfast.”

Bakugou knelt beside him where Izuku was lying down. “You said you were sick of meat in the morning.”

“I—when did I say that?”

“You talk even in your sleep.”

“Oh.”

“It’s embarrassing for you.” Bakugou smirked.

“And you went out just for the bread?”

“Did you want me to make one for you? A bit complicated to do that here.”

Izuku picked up the bread and sat on his knees, facing Kacchan. “Oh.” His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. “Y-you—” He bit into the bread but couldn’t continue, interrupted by a sudden sob.

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “Okay, okay—it’s not embarrassing that you talk while unconscious.”

Izuku only cried harder.

“Some might even say it’s… cute.”

Bakugou looked away, ears tinted red.

Izuku hugged the dragon. Who was he trying to fool? His mind might be confused, but his heart knew enough for both.

Katsuki patted his back. “Didn’t know you loved bread this much.”

They both laughed softly.

“Thank you, Kacchan.”

After some minutes were the only sound was the havy breath of the dragon on Izuku’s neck, he responded quietly “Sure, Deku”

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

After his morning with Bakugou, Izuku felt at peace in a way he hadn’t in a long time. His mind, often a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, was unusually still. Steady.

Now, he just needed to work on this .

Standing in the middle of the watermelon field, he adjusted his grip on his staff, grounding himself. The sun was high, casting long shadows over the rows of green vines and plump, round fruit. One particular watermelon sat before him, its surface marred by a crude carving of two sharp, angry brows.

It looked just like him.

Izuku took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and tried again.

"I want you, Bakugou Katsuki."

His voice rang through the empty field, firm but uncertain. He winced.

"I want to spend the rest of my life—" He stopped, shaking his head. Too cheesy.

A frustrated sigh escaped him as he tapped the staff against the ground, thinking.

"What if—?" He hesitated. I hate this.

The truth was, he had never needed to say something like this before. Never thought he would . Words had always been his strongest weapon, his greatest ally. But now? They felt foreign, clumsy, never quite enough.

He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the carved watermelon with an expression that was likely just as troubled as the one he’d given it.

"You look kinda insane," came Kirishima’s amused voice from behind him.

Izuku turned to see the red-haired dragon standing a few paces away, arms crossed, watching him with barely concealed laughter in his sharp-toothed grin.

“I feel insane,” Izuku admitted, deflating.

Kirishima hummed in understanding and stepped beside him, hands on his hips as he studied the watermelon’s face with mock seriousness.

“Can I ask you something?” Izuku asked after a beat.

“Go for it.”

He hesitated, rolling the staff between his fingers before exhaling, deciding to just say it.

"How do dragons… mate ?"

Kirishima blinked. "That's what’s got you all worked up?"

Izuku nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know werewolves bite each other to create a bond—I’ve met a few before, asked them about it. I figured it might be similar for dragons, but there are just too many possibilities. I don’t want to get this wrong.”

Kirishima hummed, pacing in a slow circle as he thought. “It’s different for everyone,” he said eventually. “Some bite, some don’t. Some do real intense hoarding stuff. Some bond through fire— literally .” He stopped and looked at Izuku. “Honestly? You should just talk to him about it. In your nest.”

Izuku blinked. “…Oh.” He exhaled, shoulders sagging slightly. “You’re right. That’s—yeah, that’s probably the best idea.”

Kirishima clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Definitely.” 

Izuku hesitated, remembering Mina’s words. “…Do you think I’m going too fast?”

Kirishima laughed. “Dude. Bakugou looks at you like he hasn’t eaten in years and you’re the whole damn meat market.” He shot him a toothy grin. “If anything, I’d say he’s just waiting for you” That might have broke the elf, he was left too stoned to speak.

✦══════⊰༚༄⚚༄༚⊱══════✦

Everything was ready for this moment.

Izuku had made sure of it.

He had even asked the others for help so their temporary lair was spotless, leaving behind a space that felt… new .

And yet, when they were done, Izuku found himself obsessing over the details. He spent an unhealthy amount of time rearranging the pillows, fluffing them, repositioning them, stepping back to assess, only to do it all over again. The nest had to be perfect—not just comfortable, but inviting .

A space meant for two.

The pale moonlight poured in through the entrance of the cave, spilling silver across the floor. It made everything feel otherworldly, as if this moment existed outside of time itself. The cool glow softened the rough edges of the stone walls, cast long, gentle shadows over the nest he had so carefully prepared. It looked almost… magical .

He exhaled, nerves coiling tight in his chest.

This was it.

He felt a strong wave of air at his back and knew—it was him.

The rush of wind carried the faint scent of smoke and embers, the unmistakable presence of something powerful. His breath hitched as he straightened, his fingers still gripping the edges of a pillow he had been fussing over just moments before.

Slowly, he turned.

Bakugou stood at the entrance, his silhouette framed by the pale glow of the moonlight. His wings were still partially unfurled, the last remnants of his landing stirring the air between them. The crimson hues of his scales shimmered faintly, catching the light like molten fire, but it was his eyes that held Izuku captive.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Izuku swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of every little thing—the way his heart pounded against his ribs, the warmth pooling in his chest, the nervous energy curling in his fingers. He had prepared for this, planned every detail down to the last pillow, and yet… standing here now, face-to-face with him, he felt completely and utterly unprepared.

“Hey,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than he intended but still loud enough for the other.

Bakugou’s lips twitched, something between a smirk and something far more tender. His gaze flickered to the nest behind Izuku before returning to him, eyes dark with something unreadable.

“…So this is what you’ve been doing?”

Izuku nodded, his fingers twisting into the fabric of his sleeve. “Yeah,” he admitted, then hesitated before adding, “For us.”

A slow exhale left Bakugou’s lips. Then, without another word, he stepped forward and took his boots and cape off, placing next to were Izkuku’s bag was. He was quick to sit next to the other. 

There was no dancing around it “I want to properly mate with you” he took both of the dragon’s hands as a way to make his words more power, surprisingly, Katsuki’s hands were wet from swet and as hot as you would expect from a dragon

Bakugou's breath hitched, his grip tightening around Izuku’s hands as if he was grounding himself. The heat of his palms seeped into Izuku’s skin, almost burning, but he didn’t pull away. He would never pull away.

The dragon’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fiery gaze flickering with something uncertain, something vulnerable . “Izuku…” His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. “You don’t—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching. “You need to understand what this means.”

Izuku nodded, his grip firm, unwavering. “I do understand.”

Bakugou’s wings twitched, his entire body tense, coiled like a predator ready to strike—or flee. His heart was a war drum in his chest, loud, pounding, relentless. He had spent years resisting this part of himself, keeping it locked away, forcing his instincts into submission.

But then Izuku happened.

Izuku, who was always warm, always here , always saying the things he shouldn’t, making him feel things he had spent his entire life trying to control.

He could fight anything. He could fight everything . But he had never stood a chance against Izuku .

“I’ve spent all my life trying to control myself,” he admitted, voice raw, strained. His grip on Izuku’s hands tightened ever so slightly, like he was afraid to let go. “But with you, I always slip up somehow. I don’t—” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Izuku smiled, soft, unwavering. “We can figure it out together,” he said, and Gods , it sounded so easy when he said it like that. His thumb brushed against Bakugou’s knuckles in slow, soothing strokes. “If there’s anyone who can do it, I believe it’s you.”

Bakugou exhaled sharply, his wings folding tightly against his back. The bond between them thrummed, thick with warmth, with trust, with something so much more .

And then—Bakugou squeezed Izuku’s hands, his gaze steady, determined.

“Okay.”

“How do we-” Izuku didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

Before the words could leave his lips, Bakugou was already there—pressing forward, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was searing, desperate, overwhelming . It stole the breath from his lungs, set his nerves alight, made his fingers tighten instinctively around Bakugou’s hands.

The dragon was trembling.

Not from hesitation, not from doubt, but from the sheer force of everything he was holding back. His grip was tight—almost too tight—as if he was terrified Izuku would slip through his fingers if he let go.

But Izuku wasn’t going anywhere.

He kissed back just as fiercely, pouring everything into it—his trust, his devotion, his certainty. Bakugou’s lips were burning against his own, parting just enough for Izuku to taste the heat of his breath, the unspoken emotions spilling between them.

They had no need for words.

This was their answer.

Izuku’s breath hitched as he felt Kacchan’s lips trailing wet, lingering kisses down the length of his exposed arm. Each press of his mouth sent a shiver rippling through his body, heat pooling in his stomach as his flushed skin prickled with anticipation. His breath came uneven, his face burning with warmth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Kacchan’s mouth moved lower, dragging against the sensitive skin of his rist before settling on his hand. His kisses were slow, deliberate—almost reverent—as he paid attention to each toe, his tongue flicking out in teasing strokes. When he reached Izuku’s ring finger, he pressed his lips against it before parting them, taking it into his mouth with an agonizing slowness.

Izuku jolted at the sensation, a gasp catching in his throat as his left hand’s fingers dug into the bedsheets. His eyes flew open, meeting Kacchan’s intense gaze—half-lidded, burning with something dark and unspoken. Then he felt it—the scrape of teeth, not quite biting, but applying just enough pressure to ask for something. To demand something.

A silent plea, hot and heavy between them.

Izuku swallowed hard, his throat dry, and gave a shaky nod. That was all it took.

The next second, pain bloomed through him—sharp, electric—as Kacchan’s teeth sank down, possessive and unyielding. Izuku’s body arched instinctively, his mouth parting in a silent cry. His fingers curled even tighter into the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he bit down on his own lip to muffle the sound threatening to escape. The metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue, mixing with the haze of agony coming from his right hand.

In that moment, Izuku felt like prey.

The sharp bite of Kacchan’s teeth broke through flesh with a sickening ease, and then—just as effortlessly—the bone cracked between his jaws. A choked noise escaped him as his back arched against the bed, his fingers slipping between his teeth to muffle the sounds threatening to spill. His mind was a haze, consumed by the pulsing agony and the raw sensation flooding his body.

His breath came in short, desperate gasps, his vision swimming as he forced himself to focus. And then—Kacchan’s eyes found his.

The dragon was chewing slowly, deliberately, making sure Izuku saw every movement of his jaw, only stopping to reach the bone from his mouth. His tongue flicked over it, tasting every last bit, before he finally swallowed the flesh with a purposeful finality.

The only blood in sight was the crimson burning in Kacchan’s irises. He didn’t spill a drop. He would never make a mess. He was elegant. Controlled. Kind.

Caring.

Izuku’s gaze drifted—flushed cheeks, red-tipped ears, those lips, kiss-swollen and parted just enough to look impossibly soft.

“Kacchan,” he breathed, pulse hammering. “Kiss me.”

And he did.

The kiss was deep, consuming, the kind that swallowed him whole. Passionate. Hungry. Their tongues tangled, the metallic taste of Izuku’s blood mixing with the warmth of Kacchan’s saliva. It coated his tongue, seeping into him like the richest of aphrodisiacs.

And, judging by the way his body reacted, it certainly had the same effect.

Katsuki pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven motions. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but for a moment, he only stared—wild eyes dark with something raw, something pleading.

Then, finally—

“Take from me.”

The words came as a whisper, almost desperate. He pressed closer, arms locking tight around Izuku, pulling him in until there was no space left between them. His body was warm, solid, trembling ever so slightly as he nuzzled against Izuku’s neck, rubbing his face there like he was trying to carve himself into the elf’s skin.

“Please, Izuku,” he murmured, his voice rich with a purring hum. “Please. You can have anything you want.”

Izuku let out a slow breath, his fingers threading into Katsuki’s hair, stroking through the strands in soothing motions before tilting the dragon’s face up. Their eyes met—gold and red flickering in the dim light—before Izuku leaned in, capturing his lips in another deep, intoxicating kiss.

His tongue swept inside, exploring, mapping every sharp edge, every dangerous point. The sting came fast—a shallow cut against Katsuki’s fang— but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he swallowed the pain, let it melt into pleasure as he pressed in deeper, drinking in everything Katsuki gave him.

When they parted, his lips tingled, his breath came fast, and the taste of iron lingered between them. Izuku’s smile was dizzy, dazed.

“This one,” he murmured, thumb tracing the corner of Katsuki’s mouth. His grin widened as he licked his lips, tasting his own blood. “This one is mine.”

Katsuki melted as he spoke, his body molding against Izuku’s like he never wanted to let go. His eyes—blazing, reverent—held nothing but complete devotion.

And in that moment, he understood.

Understood why dragons hoarded treasure. Why they craved the gleam of gold and the shimmer of jewels.

Because right now, with Izuku in his arms, breathless and smiling, lips tinged red—

He had found something far more precious.

Lifting his right hand to touch Katsuki’s face, Izuku traced his fingers along his jaw, feeling the sharp edges of his teeth with the pads of his index and middle finger. The second Katsuki parted his lips, his breath hot against Izuku’s skin, a shudder ran through him. When Katsuki sucked on his fingers, slow and deliberate, his legs trembled, a sharp jolt of pleasure shooting through his body.

But he couldn’t wait. He was too impatient, too desperate.

Without hesitation, he pressed forward, his fingers curling against the sharpest point of Katsuki’s fang. A deep ache shot through his fingertip as he pushed, and then—

With a slick, almost soundless pop, the tooth gave way.

Izuku barely registered the sharp sting before he surged forward, pressing his mouth against Katsuki’s in a fevered kiss, swallowing whatever reaction the dragon might have had.

The dragon’s blood was intoxicating—an addictive drug seeping into his veins, setting every nerve alight. Izuku felt his pupils blow wide, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. He straddled Katsuki’s lap with the desperation of a starving creature, drawn to the impossible heat of his body, unable to resist the way it burned against his own.

But it wasn’t just the warmth—it was the sounds. The ragged, needy noises slipping past Katsuki’s lips, raw and unrestrained. They sent a violent shiver down Izuku’s spine, made his fingers tighten in ash-blond hair, made him feel like he was unraveling, piece by piece.

Katsuki was just as desperate. Maybe more. His hands never left Izuku’s waist, gripping tight like he was afraid to let go, fingers tangling in his hair as though anchoring himself.

If he died here, in Katsuki’s arms, with their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating as one—

He would die happy.

Izuku trembled in Katsuki’s hold, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, his body burning from the inside out. The dragon beneath him was just as wrecked—lips parted, pupils blown, his chest rising and falling in uneven motions as if he was struggling to breathe.

The bond between them was alive, a living thing wrapping itself around their souls, pulling them closer, refusing to let go. Izuku could feel it—deep, ancient, undeniable.

Katsuki’s hands tightened on his waist, pressing him down until there was no space left between them, until Izuku could feel every inch of heat, every shudder, every quiet, restrained noise caught in the back of his throat.

“Shit,” Katsuki rasped, voice rough, raw. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Izuku let out a breathless laugh, but it melted into a moan when Katsuki’s mouth found his throat, dragging sharp teeth along sensitive skin. Not biting—just teasing, letting the threat linger, making Izuku hyper-aware of how easily Katsuki could sink his fangs in and claim him completely.

His fingers twitched, still wrapped around the dragon’s teeth.

A quiet moment stretched between them, charged and weighty. Then—

“Be mine.” Katsuki’s voice was barely above a murmur, but it struck Izuku like a lightning bolt. “Not just for now.” His fingers dug into Izuku’s waist, like he was terrified of letting go. “For good.”

Izuku’s breath hitched.

And Izuku had never wanted anything more.

His lips curled into a soft, dazed smile. He leaned forward, brushing their foreheads together, letting their breaths mingle in the space between them.

“I’ve been yours, Kacchan.” he giggles.

Izuku barely registered the sharp sting before the warmth spread—thick, molten, binding .

His breath caught as Bakugou’s fangs sank deeper, unyielding, possessive. The dragon’s grip on him was firm, grounding, his claws pressing into Izuku’s skin as if he could pull him closer, as if closer even existed.

By now, the pain had melted into something else entirely—something vast , something consuming . It coiled around his spine, settled deep in his bones, spreading through him like wildfire.

And the blood—his blood—Izuku felt it, hot and thick against his throat, slipping past Bakugou’s lips in crimson rivulets. But the dragon didn’t let it go to waste. He lapped at it, slow and deliberate, sealing the mark with reverence, with a kind of hunger that had nothing to do with mere consumption.

Izuku shuddered.

It was done.

“I'm going to show you the entire world, Kacchan.”

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