bakudeku

King Romero Aizawa IV was insane, they said.  He listened to no one, they said, but was quick to blame others for the mistakes Eri made upon the battlefield.  He made one rash decision after another, costing countless lives on the Erian side.

The Civil War lasted less than a day.  Some hardly called war at all.  There was much infighting between the nobility and those who were fighting on the front lines.  Most of the time, the Generals stayed away from the battlefield, but made decisions based on reports from the only General that would fight alongside her soldiers—Mitsuki.  Some say she spread the rumor herself that Eri was to bow to Talia, especially after the brutal battle that took out nearly 30% of the Erian military.

Mitsuki’s lost many people in those years.  Eri was losing soldier after soldier, platoon after platoon, company after company and soon after, an entire battalion was lost under the King’s orders.  And thus, the Civil War had begun.

Mitsuki’s battalion carried the infantry and marched to Frostgate, directly outside the walls of the castle that the king and his lordship lived.  They were wearing the Erian colors—Red and Gold—but the gold had been smeared with the color white.  General Mitsuki had taken her place on the front lines like she always had and soldiers filed in lines of rows and columns, putting their life on the line against the Aizawan Family. 

“We will not surrender to Talia!  We fight for Eri and Eri alone!  Last chance, Aizawa!” she had screamed up to him.  “You can surrender to me or I’ll have your head!”

“Traitorous bitch—,”; “Disloyal cunt—,”; “Useless whore—,”; but Mitsuki ignored them as they spat the insults.  Her eyes were completely narrowed on King Aizawa and the crown atop his head.

The battle didn’t last long.  Fourty minutes and the Aizawan Court was in disarray, completely ruined.  Frostgate had been pillaged as the battalion had torn it apart.  There, at the Front Gate of the ruins was Mitsuki, holding up the head of a bastard they called King.  His children had been slaughtered—all but one, the Heir Aizawa to Talia or the False King by Eri.

And the Dark Queen had taken her throne.  There, upon her head, sat the bloodied crown of the old King, and a new Kingdom, a New Eri, was born. 

Her first orders were to bury only those who had splattered the half of the gold cape in white.  Let the others rot and the monsters feast on their flesh in the Frosthall Ruins.  She brought a new army forward, training an elite force of them herself.  She had beheaded so many traitors to her reign and began anew Courtship. 

A Prince was born.  The Dark Queen’s son—the Dragon King.

I did.  He’d forget everything if he knew what happened.  He gave his permission to let me force him to forget.

“Shinsou!” a voice came over my shoulder.  Aizawa was running quickly, wrapping his scarf around his neck.  “Your Grace, please, if you’ll let us explain—,”  

“Ah,” the Prince said, smiling as Aizawa kneeled in front of him, next to me.  “And the Heir Aizawa knows too, I assume?” he rubbed his brow, wiping sweat as he stepped into the sunlight.  

“Would you like to go inside, Your Grace?  You are more than welcome to—,” 

“I’d like to stay out here.”

We both just nod.  “As you wish, Your Grace.”

“Excellent.  Now Shinsou, this will be the last time I ask.  Start.  From.” His eyes narrowed down on me, the crown now fully facing me, wreathed through the Prince’s hair.  “The beginning.”

“I fell in love, Your Grace.” I told them both.  “With an Erian soldier.  I just got back from a festival that was held on your birthday in Nezu.”

He didn’t tear his eyes away from me, nor I from him.  “How did you meet?”

I told him.  I told him about the river, the few nights we shared since then and about the festival trip that was cut short by Aizawa’s letter.  I told him the couple things I’d learned, about Commander Jirou being in the forest to gain trust by the Erian court because of her father that remained here.  I also shared the little information of the Dragon King and about their forces being able to mobilize quickly.  I said it all to the Prince, tears streaming down my face.  

He stood there, unmoving, his arms crossed over the Talian crest.  The bright cape ebbed and flowed with the wind, as did his dark green hair.  “And what have you shared about Talia with this soldier?”

“About my family’s death.  About me becoming a young Lord and—,” I swallowed.  “He thought I was still under Todoroki, but I told him that I felt more comfortable being with Aizawa.”

“Is that all?” 

I know that question.  I’d heard it less than three days ago from Denki.  “Our time was limited.  Aizawa isn’t the type to pull me away without it being important and I left a couple hours after I received the letter.” 

“Is that the only thing you told him?”

“He—I implied how much I despise Todoroki, but I didn’t tell him what exactly took place.” It was hard for me to relay that information to even Aizawa.

“Very well.” the Prince said, exhaling deeply.  “I’m placing all my trust in what you’re telling me, Lord Shinsou.  And,” he sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping.  “I will permit Shinsou to ask his questions.” 

Aizawa stared at him.  “Your Grace, are you sure?” 

“Yes.  I didn’t hear anything too incriminating.  We’ve guessed at most of the things that Shinsou has said and I have no doubt you can give the others some of the information about Lord Jirou’s child at the next war meeting.  You can say you saw her and she escaped. Besides,” the Prince smiled.  “I think I wouldn’t mind being brainwashed for a few hours.  To take my mind off the war, as Shinsou claims this soldier does for him.” 

I stood up, narrowing my gaze at the Prince.  

And voices began once again, echoing around in my head.  “Your Grace, Prince Midoriya, are you sure this is what you want?” 

“Yes.” There was no hesitation.  I quickly reached into his mind, into the very depths of him, but I was met by a wall.  An entire wall, completely impenetrable in his mind, unrelenting to the voices I placed in his head.  I tried again and again, but the more I rammed into the barrier, the harder it became.  It pushed and pushed until I was completely broken and shoved the echoes of the voices back into my own mind.  

It was the first time I’d ever heard my ability and it made me delirious for a moment.  A flicker of a memory passed into me and I screamed, calling out to my mother and was met by two strong arms to keep my from falling against the ground.

When my eyes opened, Aizawa’s confused face looked down at me.  I was equally confused, but then grew angry until I saw his eyes were the same brown, his hair waved down past his shoulders.  It wasn’t him who stopped me?  I stared back at the Prince.  “Your Grace.” I breathed.  I’d always been able to reach into someone, control them like little puppets.  I’d been used, rummaged, manipulated by the Talian court for this ability.  But the Prince had not been affected and threw my own gift back at me.  Within his mind, I was met by something hard, rigid, impassable.  

The first person I’d ever met to not yield to my power from the Lantern King. 

“My ability.” was all the Prince said.  “is far greater than yours, it would seem.”  He took a few steps forward, clapping a hand to my shoulder as he passed.  “I won’t tell anyone about this.  You have my word.”  I turned to face him, but he didn’t look back as he said, “You’re still needed at the castle, Shinsou.  Change out of that clothing.  Burn it, bury it, I don’t care.  But you’re my friend, so I’ll give you this warning: not all powers come from the Lantern King.”

Out of complete fear, I bowed.  I waited until the Prince was out of my line of sight, until I could no longer see the gold shine in his crown before looking to Aizawa.  His face was full of fear like a father who could do little to protect his child.  

“Is that true?  Are there people who have powers that aren’t Children of the Lantern King?” 

He nodded.  

“And the Prince?  He’s one of them?” 

Another nod.

“How many others are like him?”

“So far, the only two families I’ve met,” Aizawa said.  “are the Prince and the Todoroki family.”

KATSUKI

*Present Day*

“Kacchan!” Deku says, getting up from his seat.  He pointed to an article from one of the several Erian papers that are laid out before him.  He’s taken a liking to reading several, but has come to realize that the knowledge I have is more extensive.  “Is this true?  Has Todoroki banked south?”

I shake my head.  “Not that I’ve heard.  Which paper are you reading?”  He shows me the cover and I bark out a laugh.  “No, no.  That paper’s full of shit.  They’ll write anything if it brings in more readers.”

“But this one said the same—,” he scrambles around, picks up another paper, but then looks between the two.  “—shit, nevermind.  It’s the same writer.” He pauses, but then crinkles the paper before sitting back down, sipping his tea.  “It definitely draws the attention of the reader, though.  In Talia, we outlaw such things.” 

“Writing?” I tease.

He crinkles his nose at me.  “No, but journalists aren’t allowed to write about things that are untrue.”  

It’s not a bad law to have, but it definitely limits what the journalists can write about.  I also like hearing the opinions of the people in my Kingdom, especially when it comes to the war.  

“Oh, I almost forgot!”  He stirs his tea gently and places the spoon facing down on the plate under the cup.  It clinks perfectly, barely making a sound.  “I have another question you should be asking.”

“And what question is that?” He has my undivided attention.  

“What Talia is planning after they—,” he clears his throat.  “Dethrone you?  Like what they might be planning for the Heir Aizawa.” 

I hiss hearing that name.  

Here in Eri, they call him the “False King”.  Talia calls Aizawa the “True Heir” and even now, there are rumors floating that he will one day take the throne.  Like Shinsou, Aizawa had switched as well, but now he fights for Talia.  It was many years ago, before I was born.  Still, hearing Deku call him “Heir Aizawa” angered me.  I try to control the heat in my body, but I can feel it rising.  Strategically, if Talia manages to overtake the Capitol and kill me, it makes sense to place Aizawa on the throne of Eri.  

Before my mother took the throne, she’d slaughtered all of them after the Aizawa family had made poor judgement call after poor judgement call.  It’d happened again and again.  When Queen Nana didn’t give her son the throne and gave it to King Toshinori, my mother followed suit, but decided to take things into her own hands.  In a single night, she slaughtered the Aizawa Family and almost brought a civil war into Eri.  Ultimately, her entire section of the army backed her, which led to her reign on the throne. After her death, I remember the members of her own High Court whispering to bring one boy, Shouta Aizawa, almost 25 at the time, back to the throne.

If Talia was to get their wish, they would surely bring their “Heir” back to the Erian throne under King Toshinori.  

It is truly his after all… 

“NO!” I yell and the sweat in my palm ignites.  Deku grabs my hands and balls them into a fist, wincing through the pain of a tiny explosion that released from me.  “I know what they plan to do if I am to die.  My own court has even thought of it.”

“When would they have discussed something like that?” he whispers.  I’m feel the words as his lips move brush my fingers.  I live for the moments like this, especially when we know we’re completely alone.  I used to hate it because nothing came of them, but now I love them, cherish these small moments we get together.  I love the feeling when his pink lips graze my hand so soft like a ghost whispering through the night.  My heart skips before thumping loudly and I hope he can hear it too.  He raises my hand and quietly, gently kisses the fingers of my closed fist.  

“After my mother’s death.  Some wanted to kill me and ask for Aizawan leadership again, as my mother was the one who really betrayed the throne.” 

“How did you live?” 

It was an outburst.  Upon hearing them discuss how they would kill me— “Give him over to Talia!”, “Leave him to the monsters in Grice!”, “Cut off his head and be done with it!”—I screamed.  I’d just watched my parents scorched to death in hot blue flames, flames that I had survived and they still meant to kill me?  I screamed for those I’d lost, for the family that I’d never see again.  

For the promise these people, my so-called “allies”, were going to take away from me.

I screamed so loud, it moved the ground, shattering everything around us.  An explosion of anger and fear, of resentment and loathing, surged out of me.  The ones around me were engulfed and left only as smoke.  The others, some with the gifts of the Lantern King and some without, were killed and the only ones left were those who remained loyal to my family.  To me.

Since that moment, I’ve been nicknamed the Dragon King.  “I just showed them my loyalty to the Eri my mother created.”

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” he apologizes again, whispering into my knuckles.  “I shouldn’t have brought it up.  I just thought you should know.  I would want to know.”  The words are light, like whisps of clouds, matching the tone of his face.  He’s trying to calm me from the sudden anger moments ago without knowing it left as quickly as it came.  I don’t tell him as his lips continue to explore the back of my hand.  He sinks to one knee and I open my palm that has been neglected.

I cannot take another moment with my hands not touching him.  I take a step closer to him and his eyes gaze up at me.  I run my hand through the thick curls of his hair, squeezing them to arch his back even more.

“Oh.” His eyes shoot open and his hands cover his mouth.  He turns his eyes away from me and I smile internally when his cheeks are flushed with a bright, rose color.  I gesture for him to get up and rises to his feet, still averting my gaze that’s fixed on him.

I begin to unbutton his jacket slowly, working each of them through the fabric of the coat.  When I finish, I lick my lips, knowing what lies beneath the shirt underneath.  I gently peel the jacket off his shoulders, which are broader than I had thought.  

Not as broad as mine, I reassured myself, but he helps me to pull it off.  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his chest, but I keep my eyes away from his pants.

“Do you want my shirt too?” he begins to lift the shirt, his pale skin revealing freckles down his stomach and beyond.  

Yes!  I want to be the one to warm you.  But I swallowed back my desperation, only managing to say the word, “Not unless you want to give it to me.” I wrap the jacket around my body, his soft scent lingering in the fur of the hood.  

“Kacchan.” his voice warns.

He still shakes his head?  I release a breath of frustration, but compose myself.  He wants it.  I know he wants it.  Why does he deny it?  

I can’t think about it any longer.  If he wants to take it farther, he’ll tell me.  “Okay.” I say to him, trying to keep my mind from wandering too far.  “Let’s talk about Talia.”

We do, sitting back down.  He talks of things I mostly know: that Lord Todoroki and Lord Aizawa are in command of two sectors of the main army.  There are several Lords and Ladies that are underneath of them as well, in charge of their own segments of the armies, but they always answer to Todoroki or Aizawa.  The youngest Todoroki son, the Dragon Tamer—fuck, I hate that name—answers to Aizawa, though, I find that odd.  He continues on, though and I make a note to question it later.

“If multiple people are in charge of multiple segments of the military,” he says.  “Then it becomes harder to predict their movements.” 

It’s true, though we have a bit of a different system that was set up by my mother.  At the top is the King; underneath that is the Generals, the High Lordship; and underneath them are the Commanders who are in charge of their large groups of soldiers.  Any issues within the military are brought up through the chain.  It’s efficient enough for us, but with multiple people in charge of multiple different segments at different times then things become more unpredictable for the enemy.

I was quiet for too long.  “Kacchan?” I hear him say, almost a whisper.  He shivers and I get up, handing him back his jacket.  He smiles when he puts it on.  

That fucking smile.  I can no longer stop myself.  I fucking—I can’t hold it any more—I look around the room and pound at the door.  A guard comes in.  “Bring him back to the room.” 

I don’t look at his face, but he calls to me again: “Kacchan!” 

I walk away, as fast as my feet will let me.  I don’t hear what the guards tell him, but I get myself inside an empty room, slamming the door shut.  Everything in my body feels hot.  I can’t slow down my breathing.  The warmth of my breaths puff out like fogs of smoke from a chimney.  I lean my forehead against the cold door, ripping open my shirt, hoping that the cold of winter will brush against my skin, but it only makes my chest hum violently at the sound of ripping clothes.  Sweat drips from every ounce of porous skin, saliva from my tongue onto the floor beneath me.  

I can bare it no longer.

I pull at the strings of my leather pants and squeeze my dick, only thinking of Deku’s flushed cheeks, so red it hides a few of his freckles inked on his skin.  I think of what it would feel like to thrust myself into his throat, the wet sopping noises it would make, the feel of Deku as he sucked from base to tip and back down again for more.  

“Deku…” I hear myself growl, spitting into my hand to massage myself and think of nothing but him beneath me, touching me, moaning loudly for more.  My body spins around and curve my back against the door, my head flying back.  I want him.  I want him so badly, the pain heats my entire body.  I can barely hear the hums of my chest over my own fantasies of Deku’s loud cries, his begging mixed with my own cruel, ruthless desire of dreamlike euphoria existing only in this moment.  I close my eyes, my arm moving faster, my hand squeezing harder, but harder was my want for Deku to be here with me.  “Kacchan…” he’d say.  “Please…” he’d moan.  “Fuck me…” he’d beg.  And I’d be obliged to it all.  

“I live for you and only you.” I say, unable to tell if it’s aloud or from deep within.  My knees nearly buckle when I feel the orgasm spill out of me, my legs still shaking and finally, my legs give out entirely and I sink to the floor, my breath still uneasy.  I wait for the humming in my chest to rest and when it finally does, I open my eyes and reality sets back in.  

I look at the empty room before me, the wind howling outside the shut windows.  Finally, I take a deep breath in, but I don’t move.  

For the first time in my life, I thought of something other than the war.  For those long minutes that past, I thought of Deku and only Deku.  Not as the Prince of my enemy—I hadn’t even thought of Talia at all.  No.  Only Deku. 

I don’t want to move.  Can’t move.  Not away from him.  

--- 

“Sire!” the two guards snap to attention as I stand before my door to the bedroom.  I inhale a deep breath before opening the door.  

It’s dark in the room.  The fire has fainted a little.  I scan the bed to see Deku in it, on the other side this time, where I had slept the night before.  The warmest part of the bed.  I take my shirt off—a different set of clothes than the ones I’d worn previously.  I’d asked a few of the servants to bring me a new set and throw those out, a little embarrassed.  

I move quietly over to the bed and lift the covers that he’s buried himself underneath.  But as quiet as I thought I was, I hear his small voice float over to my ears. 

“Kacchan?” 

I roll over to face him.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You really didn’t.  I was falling asleep, but not quite there.” he stretches before tucking himself back underneath the blankets.  

“You don’t get hot?  Underneath all of that?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head.  “No.  Though I didn’t anticipate how cold Eri would be in the winters.  It’s south of Grice, but still feels colder for some reason.” He ponders for a moment before saying, “When you aren’t here.” 

I’m quiet, but I watch his eyes slowly close.  I watch his face relax.  And just before he falls asleep, I ask, “Would you like me to hold you?”

His eyes snap open and stare into mine.  He’s quiet, too, but I let him take this moment to think.  “Kacchan.” he says, as though he’s scolding me.  

“Deku,” I want to explain to him.  I want him to know everything.  That I do want him.  Every piece of him.  “I just want you to stay warm though the night.”

Another moment of silence, but it burns.  I don’t move my face.  I don’t give him any indication I want anything else.  “Just holding?” 

“Just holding.”  I promise him.  “I hate sleeping underneath seven blankets.  I feel like I’m going to drown in my own sweat.  But you still shiver.” 

“Okay, Kacchan.” he lifts the blankets and we inch towards each other.  He pulls his arms in and I hug him to my chest, but he lifts his head. 

“What’s—what’s that?” he asks.

“What’s what?” 

“That sound?” 

It takes me a moment to realize.  “It’s a part of my gift from the Lantern King.” I tell him.  “My ability hums.  I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before.” 

He leans back against me.  “It’s beautiful.  Like a song.” 

My body sings for him and lulls him to sleep like a lullaby.

--- 

After almost a month of waiting, I receive a letter from Commander Jirou during a war meeting.  It’s marked with her seal and our code is written in the letter.  Finally!  I tear it open and I hold my breath while scan it, but I only read the first line before leaving the room: Everything the Prince told us was true.    

“Majesty?” Mina asks me, but I’m already running out of the War Meeting.  

He didn’t lie to me.  I knew he wouldn’t.  

I burst open the door to my room, the guards all gripping their weapons, but stop and bow when they immediately see me.  “Leave us!  No one is to enter this room!”  They did as they were instructed, saying, “Sire.” to me before rushing out of my chamber.  

He stands up from one of the chairs, marking his page in the book he was reading.  “Your Highness.” he bows playfully. 

“Deku.” I whisper and before I could think about it, pull him into me, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.  He gasps, but then I feel cheek resting upon my chest, his own arms wrapping tightly around my waist.  We hold each other, our breathing becoming synchronized before I finally pull away.  

“What was that for, Kacchan?” he says, smiling through watery eyes.  A tear falls from one of his eyes and I brush it away from my thumb.

“A wish that I asked for came true.” 

His face contoured in confusion.  “A wish?” 

“Yes, Deku.” my thumb is still brushing along his cold cheek.  I will warm you.  “Will you tell me again?  That you’ll stay by side until the war ends?” 

My thumb runs across his chapped lips that form a smile.  “Kacchan, I plan on staying with you long after that.” 

IZUKU

I crinkled the letter against my chest, hugging it close.  I knew the information would be accurate, but I didn’t know how much I could trust Commander Jirou.  This letter is proof that people want the war to end.  It’s proof that people, even in New Eri, want the suffering to be over.  

Tears fall from my eyes and I wipe them away.  Even before my capture, my sole mission was to speak to the Dragon King about ending the war.  But now—

I’ve completely fallen for him.  

He’s next to me.  It happens so fast, I don’t have a moment to react when he grabs my wrists and pulls me in close, wrapping my arms around his waist before he wraps his own around my neck.  He cradles me so closely I can feel his breath, so warm and smells of sweet candies. Impulsively, I lean a cheek into his chest, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his ability.  Our lips grow closer together, each second is far too long.  But when nothing happens, I feel a little annoyed, but rest my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes to enjoy this moment.

I decide to tell him.  Against my father’s wishes to not tell a soul, I decide that he has a right to know everything about Talia.  Including their Prince.  In that moment, I decide it’s the right time.  “I have another question for you to ask.” 

“Oh?” he says, his hands brushing against a few locks on my head. 

“If I wanted to leave, I could have done it long ago.” 

He pulls away and looks down at me.  “What do you mean?  Kirishima captured you.”

“He captured me, yes.  But at any given point, I could have left.  I’d like you to ask me about it.”

He sits down in one of the chairs.  “Is it your gift from the Lantern King?  Shinsou told me he can’t use his against you, but Kirishima thought it was more strength than anything else.”

I tell him outright.  “I think it’s time you learned about One-for-All.”