#killersweets

“I’m fine, dude- don’t sweat it,” Kirishima assured. It wasn’t the first time he’d whacked himself in the face with his quirk before- and he could feel the warm drip of blood beneath his hand but paid it no attention. But he was frustrated- honestly frustrated, and a frown tilted on his lips. Normally he’d consider himself pretty patient and understanding- or, at least, he hoped he was, but...

[[For @killersweets​ ]]

Damien cupped the mug in his hands as he took a long sip of the cocoa in it. He watched the snow fall outside and turned to his younger friend. Someone who he had been happy to get close to in the short time that he had known them.

“But they don’t have to blame you,” Izuku mumbled, sounding torn. He knew that it might take some adjusting for Quinn to come to U.A., and he knew ahead of time how people felt about how certain quirks... seemed, but it still hurt. Did there really need to be people who saw Quinn as someone with a villainous quirk? What in the world even was a villainous quirk...? “You belong here... don’t listen to what anyone else says. If you didn’t belong here, you wouldn’t be here.”

It hit a sore spot in him to see anyone being picked on or harassed, but to see the one childhood friend he could say still was his friend being messed with... it hit an especially sore spot. He wouldn’t let anyone put Quinn down the way he had been put down in the past. Both of them didn’t seem the type to become heroes, right? But here they were.

@killersweets​ asked: “It’s still not healed, but it’s getting there.” ~Quinn

Izuku’s gaze had been locked on the bandages wrapped across Quinn’s torso. Izuku remembered being the one to apply the first set of bandages- the ones that bled through whenever Quinn would move too abruptly, or would stretch and reopen the stitches. Over the course of the injury, Izuku had become comfortable with giving rudimentary stitches- or at least patching up what Quinn had.

It’d been a while now since Quinn took a bullet for him. It’d been a while since Izuku swore he’d lose the love of his life, that the other would perish and die all because of him, all because he wasn’t paying attention, all because he had been so caught in his emotions he didn’t move quick enough and Quinn sacrificed himself-

Taking a deep breath, Izuku pressed a tentative hand over where the wound was. Fingertips brushed lightly across the coarse, woven texture of the bandage, eyes glancing up at Quinn’s.

“Can... can I at least check on it? I just want to make sure it’s healing properly,” Izuku muttered softly. After everything that happened... the two had a lot to work through, but Izuku would never leave Quinn, regardless of who they were.

Izuku already went through the pain of believing he’d lost Quinn for good. He couldn’t bare actually losing them. The fear jolted him awake at night, stained his vision and his thoughts, contaminated his day with flashbacks of the event, and...

He took another deep breath.

It wasn’t often the nymph found himself along these edges of the woods. Unsure sage eyes looked out among the greens and browns of the forest that encroached upon the swampy lands, eyes wide and drawn with curiosity. Really, he had no reason to be here- no reason he should be lurking about, especially given the fact that he pushed close to the boundaries of where he belonged. 

Had he been alone, he’d likely have padded away quietly and back among the comfort of the forest he called home. However, what drew him here in the first place finally caught his eyes, and he swore for one of the few times in his life he forgot how to breathe.

Eyes trailed among the other, along the rich colors of their tail to the wet locks of hair that curled around their more angular face. His fingers curled around the trunk of the tree, drawing himself closer against it as he peeked out warily at what he’d found. Mysterious- new- something the nymph had never dared seen before, and the other’s voice-

He swore he melted. Something told him to pry himself from the tree and to fling himself at the other- something the highly anxious nymph would never dare do in any other circumstance. It was almost as if some sort of haze edged into his brain as he listened, fingers curled tight against the bark of the tree. 

--Closed for: @killersweets --

The gravel crunched under the young mans shoes as he walked the familiar path home from work. Tall buildings extended above him, above the rest of the city. Far from cushy homes of the higher ups, and far from the lower homes of the unlucky ones. He was in the middle, and if he was honest. He didn’t mind it that way. A simple job behind a desk, as  receptionist for someone whose face he’d never seen, only the commanding tone of his employers voice. If it could even be called that. 

He approached a large gate, locked. A bright red light flashed from a black panel. He held his wrist to it for a few seconds. With a beep, and a click, the gate unlocked. 

As he stepped into his community, he heard something behind him, causing him to pause halfway through the gate, holding it slightly ajar as he turned is head over his shoulder. 

hi my name’s dakota and when i get invested in a ship all i ever do is bombard you about it and draw it and i don’t think i can be stopped