( ...He knows that back on the boat, Bakugo said not to worry about him. But after a rather unsettling encounter, and Chobe's comments about finding Esikko's friends from an accidental hint, he can't help it. Ugh. )
If it ever comes up with that plant bandit, pretend you don't know me.
Can you teach me how to break those holds soon? Today?
your fucking username is still stupid. but i went to that place you suggested. that aquarium restaurant. and sat in a booth. yeah. you were right about the view. so i guess thanks.
( It's not terribly long after their lantern release together that Esikko finds himself having to reach out to Bakugo again. Some things came up. Threats, really, and as he sits here on a bench in the carnival with a damaged little Bakugo plushie in his lap, he feels like all he can do is warn the guy. )
That overgrown weed doesn't just want to kill me, anymore. He's threatening everyone I know.
He only knows of you, and Dabi. I never wanted him to learn of anyone, but he's surprisingly quiet when he's following someone. ( you try to enjoy ONE carnival game )
If he tries anything funny to try and draw you out, even if it means letting me die, I think you should stay away.
[One flick of his finger throws his watch's screen up, already narrowed eyes on a username he's familiar with. What the fuck?! Seriously?! Can't go a single damn day without someone harping shit on him!! Doesn't sound as if Esikko picked this fight. A follow up from another one?
Bakugo snarls and twists to the side, heading back to the carnival.
"Everyone" consisting of only two people isn't a comfort.]
( A video call comes through, which is odd enough for Esikko. But the image Bakugo is greeted with makes it immediately clear. The angle is odd and jerks suddenly as Esikko moves his wrist, the projected screen moving along with it. Flashes of the car he's stuck in and Chobe both show, along with bits and pieces of Esikko himself, in the clumsy rush. Vines wrapped around him, thick and bark-like, specks of blood from the new gash down his Watch-bearing arm, and most notably, a thin vine stabbed in through his face, and making quick work of reforming from being partially torn out and stitching Esikko's mouth clean shut.
His eyes are teary, pointed at Chobe rather than at the screen itself— it seems like he can't really move. And rather than words, it's something like a pained growl that makes it out of him. )
( ooc: main thread here but I will give the signal when it's time to hop in~ )
[He's busy. Occupied with something else. A video call only momentarily breaks his attention away from his current focus. A quick-flipped hand sends his watch twisting along his wrist, one index finger joint irritably knocking against the screen a second later. What the hell is this? This guy never fails to call when he's doing something.
Flicked up into the air above his hand and summarily played ou-
-for all of a goddamn second.]
WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GET INTO THIS TIME?!
[As if he's gonna be able to answer with those shitty vines in his mouth. Stitching lips shut and silencing him. Something intense erupts outside the screen, momentarily blinding the entire thing with a furious yellow-orange light.]
Goddamn son of a bitch. You better keep yourself alive until we get there, or I'll fucking kill you!
[Movement, another explosion.]
And make sure that shitty compost pile doesn't die either.
Guah! [where-!? upright. shadows. darkness. a single overhead light abruptly strikes in his eyes. pain skewers into his mind, reflexively jerks his head back in recoil. everything hurts, everything pounds. *thub thub ... thub thub* his own heart reminds him it exists, startling his nerves with its sound. picking itself out of a dreaming haze, life begins to claw back into his consciousness. where is... he...
eyes stare back at him from ahead. his eyes. floating in his own face. familiar eyes he's seen before but his chest seizes up in a split second. no-! his eyes aren't his eyes! then they area. wait... blinking once, twice, completely red and white. tiny veins crawl through his sclera, reaching in needy strain towards his irises. *thub thub ... thub thub* hurting. hurtin. burning as if they'd been roasting in front of a fire for far too long. his eyelids can't flush enough water to balm it. does he even have water in his ducts anymore? he can't tell. he doesn't know.
why... why can he see his own face? a mirror. slowly his brain begins piecing the world together. reaches to the left, grasps a frame, pulls until the wall meets with his mirror's edge. reaches to the right, grasps a frame, pulls until the wall meets his mirror's edge. reaches up-- mirror's eyes. cobbling it into one focal point: caving sink, straight counter. a bathroom vanity swallowing his entire figure as if he's standing in a silver mouth looming behind.
what just happened? reality squishes together in a single picture, leaving him standing with his arms braced on the edge. shaking with effort he can't remember or a minute. he can't remember... for more than a minute. *thub thub ... thub thub* he crawls backwards in his own mind, trying to locate something he can grasp among the darkness. a memory, a moment, something-!!
you're coming with me for an hour
his voice. beating in his skull. he hears it from his own lips, it came from his mouth. an arm slings around someone's shoulder, tightening in a way he hasn't done in years. notched at their neck, free hand on their body, smoke rising with a hissing crinkle of clothing. threatening. what the fuck?! he wouldn't be threatening some innocent person like that?! he doesn't-!! *thub thub ... thub thub*
a bottle smashes on the ground, glass shattering as he shoves backwards from the bathroom mirror. fuck... fucking nightmare. fingers dig into his hair, scuffing his scalp. it's all black in there. in his brain. a lump of coal black lead. and he's standing in front of it, stomach instantly dropping to his feet as his eyes lock with its shape. a figure, a person, similar in size and shape to someone familiar. someone he knows very well. he's seen him each morning in the mirror. *thub thub ... thub thub* run away. run away! you don't need to see what's under there!
footstep stalk through his suite, bare on the ground and plush carpet alternating. don't fuck with him! he's not afraid of anything! one step, two step, until his toes sink into inky soil and his fingers plunge into obsidian dirt. not afraid. both hands scoop and he hauls back, dragging the dirt away. not afraid! another scrape, pulling more away as he crouches over its ominous shape. something's under here. someone's under here! ... RUN AWAY!!]
SHUT UP!! [let him see-!!
Shitty liar. Spill it or I'll blast your head all over the table!
his voice again, sprinkled among clattering chips and a human body splayed out on the table below. vicious and snarling, not the same growling threat he spills out so easily. his nape tightens up, his hairline twitches as his flesh squeezes around his body. *thub thub ... thub thub* not his voice. yes your voice! That's not my Voice! IT IS YOUR VOICE!! another handful of dirt, frozen in the air, suddenly unsure of whether he needs to keep digging into this mound.
Is that the best your roots-for-brains can shit out?
fuck. fuck! it wasn't-! anything, what, anything! clenching in his ribs until his throat stifles itself. breathe, breathe, you fucking-! *crash!* ceramic shatters against the wall, shards flying through the air. hunched at the table in his dining room, he braces one arm on the surface, eyes widening as everything begins to come into clear. his hands are moving in his mind, frantically clawing at soil atop his mound. he can't tell if he's trying to pull it off or shove it back on! don't look! look at me. don't fucking look at it! look at you!
orange light glowing like hell all around. burning rubber and melting metal mix with glass grains sticking in his shoulder and arm. *thub thub thub thub* he was here, he was there, he saw him, esikko called him! he trusted him to come to him, to help him, to save him! but he didn't come to him! someone else did... it had to be someone else! the crackling sound of fire grows in his ears, forcing his head up in alarm. it's burning! all of it's burning! cars, walls, floor, saturated in smoke, gas, blood, flesh, flowers! charred fingers curling, a gurgling breath trying its hardest to stay alive. he was there... he was there! all he had to do was reach for him--!!
Let him go.
he said that. those damnable words. a hero. a hero spoke them to someone dying! HE SPOKE THEM! his face, his mouth, esikko's visage burning and crying below him and all he did was turn away from him! bile surges in his throat, his mind reeling against itself. nothing like aizawa chiding him for collateral damage. he's been upbraided before for a personal grudge from that ponytail girl! best jeanist reprimanded him for black and white views and how he didn't care about what others or felt. each of them, to him, to be a better hero! a hero?! WHAT KIND OF HERO WILLINGLY LETS SOMEONE DIE LIKE THAT?! WHAT HERO DOESN'T CARE SO BADLY, HE HURRIES IT ALONG LIKE THEIR DEATH MEANS NOTHING?!
fuck- fuck it all! don't fuck with him! that wasn't him! *thub thub thub thub* heat swells in his palm so hard it's agonizing! fear, rage, frustration, terror, fury so hot his vision's red and his arm wrenches in his socket as he slams it forward. blinding illumination erupts, blowing the television off the wall. wood fattens in a bloated moment before the entertainment center ruptures outward.] DON'T FUCK WITH ME!! YOU FUCKING ASS LIAR!!
[stop it! stop it! stop digging into that grave! stop opening it up were his hands are blackened with sticky blood and his skin reeks of crimson smoke and flames. grasping his own shoulder, pulling at it as if somehow he can grapple the him in his head and pull him off that damnable mound! he knows what's under there now! he knows every repulsive hateful memory slithering within! for the love of god- stop fucking digging! *thubthub thubthub*
I'll kill you! Scram! Go to hell! If you want-
NOT THAT ONE!! touya's face, glaring at him under such ice masking a pain he never thought he could experience again. his breath catches in his neck, knotting into ball after ball until his lungs scream for breath which won't come! he has to scream and he can't! only stare in the man's face, at his smile dangling like a noose. hurting beneath those scars, beneath his own years of agony. someone else he could have saved, could have helped, could have reached for-- a hero should have- A HERO SHOULD- A HERO-
YOU WANT ME TO CRY OVER YOU THAT BADLY?
FUCK FUCK GODDAMMIT FUCK FUUUCK!! he can't destroy anything fast enough! die! all of it! DIE!! DIE!! craters blast into the walls, light fixtures jump on their stalks before smashing into ceiling angles, arms churning back and forth in desperate effort to shut his brain up! explosion, explosion! be gone! destroy it all! Blow up! GET OUT!! BLOW IT OUT!! GET OF HIS HEAD!! GET OUT!! *thubthubthubthub*
everything's peeling away, dragging screaming layers of his mind back in one gory strip after another. leaving the last 24 hours in dripping disgusting raw nakedness for his viewing pleasure. esikko lying in ruin, touya dropped on his knees, an empty spot digging into his ribs because he couldn't even catch the person responsible! every cursed minute, presented on a golden platter held between glinting clawed fingers beneath a drooling gilded beak! every fucking thing he did, every crime his hands committed, every kill dripping off his skin!
he couldn't stop chobe, he couldn't save esikko, he couldn't help touya! all he focused on was himself! his victory! his ego! not angry esikko died! angry he didn't get to kill chobe first. not caring touya was suffering. caring he hadn't been able to win the battle! furious chobe go away and spit on his all consuming all important pride! *SMASH!* a beast in the room, standing amid ruin and destruction. furniture wheezes beneath flames, glass shatters under smoke, his counter groans in death as it droops to the side and slowly falls into a carved-out grave in the floor. *thubthubthubthub!*
can't breathe! lungs ache! sweat's dry! leaking everything out of him, he's seeping his life and brains out of his fucking pores! clutching at his chest, clawing into his own skin, breaking out and tugging free, he has to breathe, you have to breathe! calm down! calm down! blow up! Blow Up! BLOW IT ALL UP!]
It's a lie. It's a lie! IT'S A FUCKING LIE!!
[no lie. all truth. every single strip of his 24 hours dangles from the room like so many oozing streamers. i'm gonna be the greatest hero when i grow up! slowly twisting his hands around in front of his face, eyes widening at their quivering image. bloody. burnt. it's all inside him. he's capable of all of it. negative traits brought roaring to the surface. i won't let anyone else tell me what to do! his anger and short temper elevated into a trigger-happy violate monster. his selfishness and pride swollen to overthrow everything and anyone else within his life. his desire for victory consuming every challenge in a vicious rush for his win, crushing everything else underfoot until he's at the top of a mountain made from their bodies. you can shove your offer and go to hell! i've always admired all might! nothing's gonna change that!
all of that is inside of him... something's in there.. something i can't control... someone which... a hero would never... a hero would never... do what i did... all might would never... all might... hero... he's a hero! ... he's a- he's not a... he's not a-! ... he- hero-!]
ɎØɄ~VłⱠⱠ₳łn
--!! [his throat tears open and screams himself bloody raw]
[smoke and ash, flickering flames, walls and ceiling cratered with pocket marks, ruins scattered around in splintered wood and shattered metal, surrounding a single figure twitching half-curled in a pathetic position against the farthest wall, one hand clutching his upper arm in the darkness as a soft orange glow sparks and bursts between his fingers in repeated detonations against his own flesh.]
[minutes... hours... days... doesn't know. nothing works right now. nothing's right now. everything's breaking, broken, pieces he can't pick up or see. he's drowning... and he has no voice left to scream.
no clue why, not even sure how it happened. a silent flicker of light cuts through his blackened room, illuminating his wrist as his watch activates. names... people... someone who might know a fraction of what it feels like... someone who he trusts... who could help...
How could he? That sickly scent from earlier still lingers. That scent, and the assortment of aches and pains that accompanied it. He wants to stop thinking about those things, but he can't: not when he has a strong and eerie suspicion about what it all means. Not when he can guess roughly what happened and knows exactly who was responsible.
There's nothing he could have done. Even though he had an idea of what was happening, he couldn't do anything. But did anyone else know? Did anyone step in and try to stop it...?
It does no good to wonder. But he can't do anything else, and so late at night, he turns on his watch and starts typing a message. Not to Esikko, but to the hero who might've been called as back-up.]
[Night. A fucking day. Skin bristles like knives as he stalks across the floor, footsteps crunching across broken glass and wood. Smoke licks at his shoulders, peeling away from his exit and barely concealing a single leg thrown over a now-destroyed bar. Leaving it behind in a wreck. Nothing did shit to alleviate his mood.
His thoughts break when a single sound chimes in the air, eye narrowed at the projected screen on his watch. Who the hell's calling at this time of night? ... Oh, this idiot. With a curious question.]
[Holy shit. He never thought he'd come from fucking someone else's thighs. Slumping molten against Scott's back, Bakugo clings to him through his orgasm, muscles clenched and shuddering with each hard spurt gushing across his friend's balls. His face's flushed, breath catching in his throat, fingers digging into the other teen's chest as if he'll sink and drown if he lets go. Bastard didn't even come with him. Scott's penis twitches and throbs in his grip, stubbornly refusing to break even as Bakugo spills himself into the water-
There he goes. Shouting into the sky, body tensing up like a wire against his chest and legs. Bakugo drags him flush to his torso, holding on tightly as his friend rides out wave after wave of his own intense climax. His snarls ease off into panting breaths, forehead dropping as his bangs hide his eyes beneath a shadowed veil. Scott's balls churn over his glans, rising and falling with each pump of semen from his tip, tortuously massaging his overly-sensitive head. It's almost more mesmerizing than his penis twitching and spurting in his hand, diamond hard as he pumps a few more dregs out of his leaking mast.
Both of them manage to wring out a few final dregs from each other, thighs and hand working in tandem until they're lying worn and panting on the jetski bobbing in open blue.]
[Scott's entire body shudders against the jet ski, arms quivering on the vehicle as his body jerks and shakes with the last bits of his orgasm running through him. Fuck. Just feeling Bakugo's tip rubbing against his balls like that... and the way his hand was wrapped tight around his pulsating cock, it was intense in a way that was new and yet familiar. Definitely a satisfying feeling though, his body pushed to that limit. He pretty much always feels that way whenever he has sex with Bakugo, them pulling and pushing at each other until they orgasm.
It's nice. He likes it a lot, even.
Though his breath hitches when he Bakugo's grip on his softening cock doesn't relent, the mutant pushing back against the muscular form still splattered against his back and bitching at him in a voice that's trying to sound annoyed, but mostly sounds out of breath. Maybe just a little warm.]
I'm done, dipshit. [And yet, he squeezes the penis between his thighs one more time before finally letting him go-- legs puling away from their clamped position and allowing them to float more freely in the water.
There's a moment where he feels so content, being in the water out here with Bakugo's form plastered against him, but.]
Guess we're tied now. [Definitely some smugness entering his voice there.]
[Bakugo waits for Scott to get his legs braced before he picks up his pace. Pounding into him in full view of each other. He can see everything, from his friend's splayed thighs and open knees to his chest rising and falling with each thrust slamming into his ass. Goddamn lewd sight, Scott's flushed face contrasting with his penis flopping and bouncing between his legs in time with Bakugo's thrusts. He wants the mutant to watch and see himself getting fucked hard. Not look away in embarrassment.
Hot gasps and whimpers spill into his ears, punctuated by each heady slap of his balls into Scott's taint. Bakugo can't hold back his lips curling a grin from cheek to cheek when he hears the mutant's voice hitch up like that. High pitched and surprised, then melting into a low moan. His ass feels amazing, fluttering around his penis in time with his abdomen crunching under his skin. Bakugo's voice pumps out in thicker sounds, grunt and curses dusting Scott's mouth as he forces them both to look in the mirror and watch.
He ducks his head slightly, growling as arms wind around his head and nape. Sweat drips along his temple and cheek, mingling with Scott's in glittering drops to his chest. Each squelch and slop mingles with wet slaps as he pounds into him, mesmerized by his friend's balls and dick bouncing above his own vanishing shaft plunging into Scott's ass.] Do it. [Right there, dropping his hips and impaling himself on his dick over and over. Scott's fucking himself on his cock as much as Bakugo's spearing it up into him.
Everything goes white a second later, shouting into the air as he slams himself balls deep inside his friend. Fuck, he's cumming! He's cumming so damn hard, pumping his seed into Scott's ass almost at the same time as the mutant paints his chest and stomach white. Splattering his thighs and groin as Bakugo fills his insides to the brim and more. He refuses to stop, driving his hips and fucking both of them clean through their orgasm. Maybe even chasing a second if he gives it to Scott hard enough.]
[Another loud shout escapes Scott-- but it's not just that, more gasping noises continue to leave him as his ass tightens around the cock slamming and pumping into him with heated spurts, coating his insides more with his warm seed and getting the mutant to visibly shake and squirm right on him with the mirror reflecting every lewd action. He looks like a wreck, fuck, he feels like one, and yet Scott doesn't look away this time, arms tightening around Bakugo's head as he continues to jerk and bounce on him like he can't get enough of the other teen. Like he just loves this. His ass-- his entire body just on display for both of them to look at, with one particular push against his prostate drawing out yet another spurt of come to shoot out from his cock.
Fuck, when is he going to stop? He feels like he can't. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with his own orgasm, and yet unable to express anything else but a fucked out groan, a whimper actually dislodging from his throat as Bakugo continues to jerk and pump him full of his seed. So much. It's so much. And yet he feels so fulfilled. He tightens his body, as if trying to keep it in, but some still drips from his ass as his erection continues to bounce in front of him. Fuck, why isn't it going down yet-- something raw clawing at him at the sight. His bouncing need, slick with his own spend, coming untouched, because of the pleasure shooting through his nerves.
He feels himself at the edge once more, or maybe he never left it in the first place.]
Fuck, fuck... I... I'm going to come again.
[His spine arches, Scott's thighs shaking and tensing in Bakugo's grip, before the mutant comes again, a strangled scream actually pulling from the teen as more white fluid paints his chest and the mirror as he spasms, balls bouncing above the dick still inside him and not stopping as each jerk of his hips push out more of his release from his trembling slit. It feels like it shouldn't be possible, even though they're both young, but Scott just rides everything out-- mind too fucked out to really think about it more.
At least after that orgasm, his cock finally starts to soften-- although one particular string continues to connect his spent need to his inner thigh.]
[It hits suddenly. One minute he's headed towards the Vale, carrying a bag of seeds for his birds to enjoy; the next, the bag has been dropped in the middle of the hall, his steps ground to a halt.
It feels like an intake of air; like surfacing after being underwater, like releasing a long-held note while singing. It's not that things felt wrong before, with the connection gone. Why would they? That link was never supposed to exist in the first place. He was never meant to be bound to someone from another world, someone whose life had nothing to do with his. Even when he did agree to the link, it was with the assumption that it'd go away after the Hearts game, at the latest.
Yet being unable to sense it—to sense Esikko—felt strange and eerie after so long. Not least of all because he knew the reason that he couldn't, that the link died because Esikko did. Would it come back? Would he come back? That's what always happens in the resort, they say. But no one else Hiyori knew had ever died here.
But he can feel it, what was missing before. He comes to his senses, picks up his stuff and steps aside, turning on his watch and opening his messages.]
[He expected this message at some point. Days, a week, two almost, since the incident. Scott managed to pull him back from a brink, he managed to keep himself together, dragging himself forward on broken pieces as they slowly began to fit into place once more. Is he "better" now? ... Not by a fucking long shot. But he has to keep moving.
Hiyori's message freezes his air and drops it into his stomach. Instinct slams its heels into the ground and he threatens to break instinct's legs if it dares to stop him. Even still... it takes a few seconds to respond.]
[He stopped checking the list of names on the watch. Too many have disappeared over the past two months. People he knew, people he'd come to maybe give a little more than a shit about. After what happened at the end of August...
Fuck, why should he even bother? What's the point of reaching out, of making any kind of damn bond, if it can all be torn away or corrupted in a goddamn second? More hooks in the heart, more distractions to tie him down, more pain when shit goes wrong! He doesn't need to feel wretched holes punched in his stomach! Feel his guts give out when another name he knew blanks on the screen! This place wants them to play nice together, grow closer, then actively sabotages their efforts! Fuck, it's gonna drive him crazy!
And yet, he's pressing his thumb on the screen, staring at the display bloomed up in front of him like a glowing wallpaper. Lying on his side in his bed, as if it might make him feel better to at least know someone he knew hasn't vanished...
...yet.
Been a while since he's actually had contact with this guy. Someone like him wouldn't give a damn, right? Who comes, who stays, all of it's a pain. As if he buys that load of bullshit. He's good at deflection too.]
@ Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight
hey, have you been here from the start? this place is pissing me off.
[ he's got plenty of holes... leona will take care of them. his guts, too!!! :)
anyway.
days blend together with the exception of the random little events that the resort likes to shove onto people. a festival one day, a camp the next, but at the end of them all he's back in his huge ass suite where he has rooms that are still occupied by friends. by people who haven't been unfortunate enough to become a statue or disappear all together. he can't say he's used to the sight of a message never returned yet. voices and faces he will try his best not to forget.
but he might end up doing it anyway. that's just how it goes, right? ]
mhm years now.
why? you find something in your ass you didn't expect to see?
[He doesn't reach out to Bakugo or any of his other friends right away. He needs time to absorb the shock first.
Only it isn't a shock, not really. On a bone-deep level, he knew this was coming. He's seen so many people disappear, after all. First it was Deuce, then Robin-kun, then the girl named Monika he always bullied. After that it was Rinne, whom he shed so many tears for, whose absence he feels acutely even now. There was Weiss and Hilda and Weiss's boyfriend, and there was Reign, whom he entrusted with Rinne's statue. There was Hua Cheng, who gave him the string that connects him to Jun, and there was Leo, which almost as badly as Rinne did, and more recently, there was Till. And then, at the end of it all, there's an empty spot in Hiyori's bed, and the feeling of half his heart missing.
He knew. After all those other people, how could he not know? He's had nightmares about this happening, and he's seen this play out already in the Punishment Room. He knew. No matter how unfair it was, or how cruel, he knew it was coming. It didn't matter that he would've rather given up his own life. Jun disappeared, he's frozen as a statue inside the resort, and he won't wake up—not unless he turns back. But he won't. Rinne and Leo never did. None of those people are back.
At least he knows what to do next. That's the one saving grace, the thing keeping him functional. Unless the resort takes him next, there's still something he can do: he can work on his deck, and make progress towards earning his Wish. He just won't start doing it right this second, since right now he can't imagine getting out of bed, let alone getting into it with someone else. For Jun's sake, though, he'll have to.
Eventually he does get out of bed, and when he does it's to follow the string attached to his finger. Even now, that red string is still tied as tightly as ever, which means following it should lead to Jun's statue.
But an hour of following it turns into two hours, then three hours. Still he sees no end in sight. Where could it be leading him? Does it stretch on forever? Jun's statue has to be somewhere.
...unless...
Suddenly, he remembers what Hua Cheng told him. About being unable to find the string's end. His own partner disappeared, but his string didn't lead to any statue. He thought it must be leading him someplace outside the resort.
As Hiyori remembers this, his heart pounds. Does it prove anything? Hua Cheng didn't seem to know anything for sure. There's no guarantee his own string won't lead to a statue. Yet he can't stop himself from wondering. He tries again the next day, and he still can't find the string's end. Maybe it'll take days or weeks. Or maybe there is no end to find. But he can still feel it's connected to something. Which means what, exactly?
Instead of following the string, he decides to try a different approach and look for the statue normally. With that goal in mind, he finally does reach out. He hates to bring Bakugo more bad news, but there's no point in hiding the truth from him. Bakugo agrees to go looking, since he's a good kid like that. As for Hiyori, he decides to start with Beak. Rinne's statue appeared in the place he frequented most often, and Jun was always at the gym, so he lets Bakugo search elsewhere while he enters Beak and looks through the weight room. Then the training rooms, the boxing ring, the showers...
He spends easily an hour, but finds nothing. As he finds himself wandering the length of the pool, and then the basketball court, the string still leading him nowhere in particular, he wonders if he's barking up the wrong tree. But then he spots the entrance to the tennis courts. Jun was on the tennis team at Reimei; they've battled each other one-on-one before. It's worth a shot.
[A matter of time. That's all this was. Sitting in his room, looking silently at a spot by the window which had once been occupied by a stone statue. A man with wings, a smile on his face, feathery hair... knowing another statue existed in his friend's room, this one of a large man with spiked up hair and a scowl on his face... and another with a mask and top hat... One after another, people he told himself he never needed to form a bond with or give a shit about...
These last lingering remnants of their existence here continue to be left over importance to the people who remain. He shouldn't care, yet he does... Offering his rank to anyone who might need to find and relocate the statues of those important to them who are no longer here. Thankfully... or horribly... He keeps the atrocious information he learned recently to himself. Hell or high water couldn't pry those words from his lips when it came to Hiyori. Not now.
Why the hell does it have to be this way? All their intentions and strength mean nothing to this fucking place. When it can pull them out at the twitch of its own whim. Stay and form bonds, it says. Why the fuck should they? When no one's assured to staying with them? ... He knows how ridiculous such a thought sounds; people would never get close to anyone if they feared the person they opened their heart to would be gone at some point. But...
He's already gone through so many recently. One hook after another torn from his chest, leaving his already-destroyed and rebuilt organ throbbing in agony. Emotional damage's as much a bitch as physical. Losing people he cared about. Fuck. Accepting Hiyori's request at least gave him something to do. Exploring the resort, looking in places he's found or seen statues before, ominous slime drooling the length of his nape. He's literally searching for someone's corpse. How fucked up is tha-?
A text... Bakugo glowers at his watch, eyes burning beneath his choppy bangs above. Dammit.]
[Halloween. How long has it been since he went Trick or Treating? Years. Running around as a little kid dressed so proudly in his All Might costume, wearing those prominent twin tufts in a V-for-victory style with his face hidden behind a classic grinning mask, body clad in red and blue, from his older caped era to the modern cape-less figure. Friends trucking along beside him as they laughed and talked about decorations, of course he was never afraid of any spooky decorations, even proudly proclaiming he'd go first, his sturdy pillow case tossed over his shoulder and dangling from its sweets-filled load inside.
Lights of orange, purple, green, blacks glittered and glowed in yards and in front of doors, captured beneath a large silver moon, a white crescent, or naught by inky starlight above. Cool autumn air chilled his face whenever he lifted his mask, leaves crunched underfoot for a gush of foliage scent mingled with lawn and concrete. Each year another few inches taller, each year another few rounds smarter. Until finally it wasn't that fun anymore, relegated to kids...
He grew out of it. Something made painfully obvious as he goes step by step through the resort halls. Ghostly paintings on the wall, ignored. A cackling ghost above misses him completely and hits the floor. Some idiot in a costume lunges at him for a fright and ends up head first in the trashcan nearby. Smoking. It's insulting this place conjures up holidays from Earth, a holiday most of them are aware of and celebrated back home, and splays it out for them. Ostensibly trying to help them feel more at home, included and cared for-- see, you can have this here too! --while it really does little more than remind him he's not at home. Fucking bird.
His sour mood plays counterpoint to a quiet thrum of anticipation wandering across his skin. Of course he's been on dates before in the resort. With a number of people. But only a few of them actually mean anything more than "lets have lunch together" and melds with the other experiences mushed into his memories. Scott's one of them. He stands out, not only because he's a superhero-in-training like Bakugo, but the mutant's also one of the closest friends he has in the resort. Hanging out, training, tackling events, sex (of course). Scott's been there for him a lot. A comfort in this crazy world of forced bonding and temptation-laden emptiness.
Footsteps scuff to a stop in the hall outside the arcade. It's the easiest place to meet up. Guess the resort wants to play similar tricks, because Bakugo's decked out in a similar costume to his last year. Werewolf, with a rough costume to go along with his chain-dangling collar, wrist shackle, and lupine extras. Ears flicking with each alerted sound, tail hanging low against his thighs, fangs hidden behind his resting scowl, and clawed fingers shoved into his pants pockets. Which may have a few cuts along the inner seam thanks to said claws...
After seeing Scott's regalia during the gala event, he's curious what the mutant's gonna be slapped in for Halloween.]
[Almost on the opposite end, Scott's mostly been enjoying the whole change. He likes the decorations and everything giving that more spooky atmosphere because who doesn't like Halloween?? Yeah he sort of expected everything to have a stupid 'sexual' twist to it, but honestly, not nearly as bad it could've been. Mostly just passing out treats and rolling his eyes at people who wanted more than just candy, but... it's felt less forceful compared to normal.
So, honestly, he's in a pretty good mood.
And it's a mood that's only improved as he meets Bakugo for their date. One of his longest lasting friends here, not to mention one of the closest, just because of how similar they are in a bunch of shit and the things they've been through together. Not to mention... he's glad that Bakugo is feeling just a bit better now after everything, enough that he's been wanting to go on a date. Scott will take it. He genuinely wants to see how he's doing in all this. Honestly, it kind of is the most important thing to him.
So as he nears the other teen...]
Are you supposed to be a werewolf? [Scott just immediately blurting that out, amusement clear in his voice. The mutant, on the other hand, is basically dressed as Jason-- complete with black pants and shirt and a rough brown jacket, though the famous hockey mask is sort of plastered to the side of his head.]
( It's been a nice morning, already. Waking up early was always part of Esikko's routine, though he'd gotten used to keeping to himself for most of it. Normally, most others weren't awake, or if they were, they were in no mood to speak to him, so even if he found that most of his thoughts and words became active as the sun rose, there was no place to speak them without being met with reactions that would sour his mood too quickly. So, being able to step out and greet Bakugo, have breakfast, and not worry about being too alert for the morning was nice, somehow. Novel, in its own simple way.
Now, they're well on their hike. Esikko's dressed for comfort and ease of not holding Bakugo back on this light little walk, and since his hair's grown out since arriving here, he's even made sure to tie it back aside from his bangs. He's at least confident in his looks to think that he can rock a more "casual" or even "sporty" or "modern" attire without worrying too much, thankfully, so it's all about enjoying the nature, enjoying the company, and holding this pouch of a backpack he's been carrying over his shoulder with Bakugo's gift inside of it. It has to be given at the right moment, after all! )
Well? I'm not slowing you down too much, am I?
( Lightly, he speaks up, fingers toying with the strap of his bag as he leans forward a little to peer at Bakugo's face. He's careful not to overtake him on the trail, since he's following along and being mindful of where he steps so not to cause any trouble and interrupt a good time. He's trying really hard, honestly, to keep up, to not be too slow, to not run out of breath, to stay going... And he's doing a fair job, really. But it's clear it's on his mind, even if he's acting like it's a joke. It's fine— he can see a break in the trees up ahead, so he knows they'll get to sit for a bit soon. )
Even in artificial weather, the plants here make the air feel so nice... It's a relief on lungs like mine. I do try to get up to the gardens daily, but I'm beginning to think I should wander further into the Vale like this a little more often.
[Very rarely is he not a morning person. Sleeping in is for occasional weekends or for uncommon moments where some idiot manages to convince him into staying up late. 5:30am wake up. Enough time to get in exercise or cardio before showering and tackling the day ahead of him. Doesn't mean Bakugo's a morning person by any stretch. His quieter as the sun comes up, but because he's normally alone in those mornings. Most people in his dorm back home aren't awake when he rises. Good. Listening to those annoying extras yap about what store they went to yesterday or bitch about homework they struggled with would only piss him off.
But sometimes exceptions happen. He was surprised Esikko even wanted to go on a hike. Okay, "want" and "able to" are different things. The prince has a habit of wanting to do a lot which is outside his usual ability. Bakugo's not going to dis him for reaching past his limits. He judged the man's dress when they met up, ensured it was suitable for hiking, and carried on. Cooler fall weather tinges with the scent of woodland leaves browning into golds and reds, a few drifting past on soft breezes. His boots leave tread prints on the dirt path behind him, his windbreaker's hood dropped back behind his neck for now. A simple pouch clings to one hip, another smaller resting on his opposite thigh. Emergency supplies just in case. Not that the resort's gonna have much danger in the Vale.]
I'm not trying to run. [If he were going at his normal speed, Esikko would be in the dust out of sight without a second to spare. Still, the man's keeping his pace and Bakugo's not forced to slog along at a snail speed. He made it clear when they agreed to this he wasn't going to babysit Esikko on the hike. He had to pull his own weight, note his own stamina and ability. In exchange, Bakugo's willing to take more pauses than he usually would, stopping by some natural benches or boulders. Like the clearing coming up soon.]
If you're gonna hike, do it earlier in the morning. This place gets muggy and hot in the afternoon. [And hiking in the winter's cold bite sucks. Does not recommend.]
I hope this message finds you well. It seems our mutual friend, one Hiyori Tomoe, has asked in his absence that I deliver to you a parting package. Is there a time that works for you where I could drop this off?
[This message finds him dealing with another friend vanished from the resort. It's a damn mixed emotion he fucking hates. Especially seeing Loki's reference to Hiyori.]
You don't have to be damn formal. The hell do you think this is, a business transaction?
I'm free after 5pm today. Bring your walking shoes. You're gonna help me find his statue.
[Yep, Loki's getting roped into this "fun" quest.]
Do you know you're a rather difficult person to shop for? Practicality over indulgence isn't terribly exciting. I wonder if you'll discover the second use of them.
[Mildly slimy... Just gonna wipe that off with a towel and a "ewugh" face. Telling he instantly thinks of Kleken from slime alone instead of the note. A finger puppet? Did Kleken make this one himself? Didn't see the guy as a crochet type, but with all those arms, maybe. The conman's gonna at least see Bakugo wearing the shirt next time they have an agreed-upon meeting, tucked under an open jacket. Looks smart on him despite the eclectic design.
Holy shit, how much did this kind of wristwatch cost?! He sits blinking at it for a second, but quickly finds his eyes wandering from gears to hands to more inner-workings. Kinda fascinating. Blame it on Keita. Might show it to the clock maker later. Does he wear it around the resort, knowing it might get damaged? ... Ugh. He'd prefer it over the shitty cuff of a watch the resort's locked on their wrists.
... and what's this about a "second use" for these gifts. Kleken's always more than his surface.]
[ By the time Bakugo gets back from delivering Keita's gift, a gift of his own will have been delivered to the front of his doorway. The box is wrapped in ruby-red paper and tied with gold ribbon, with a card atop it tucked underneath the bow.
When opened, Bakugo will find three gifts. The first is quite clearly a gag gift, a grenade-shaped vibrator that claims to deliver EXPLOSIVE PLEASURE!!! The real gifts are underneath: one, a set of salts and spices infused with various flavors (garlic and chive, mushroom, Sichuan pepper, etc), and the other a set of three glass flasks with clockwork timers. (Keita might not work on clocks in front of Bakugo, but at least now Bakugo can see his clockwork!)
The accompanying card reads, ]
I do hope you'll forgive me for the first gift, but I couldn't pass it by. :)
As for the others: the timer on the flasks can be set on a delay of anywhere from five seconds to five minutes. I hope you don't often have cause to set bombs around the resort, but they should come in handy should the occasion arise.
I hope you know that I've come to consider you a good friend, someone I trust and care for very much. I know that by nature I'm not exactly an open book, but if there's anything you'd like to know about me, I'd gladly tell you.
Also, British food is by and large quite boring, but I am rather good at beef wellington.
Let's see each other again soon. Happy Christmas, Bakugo-kun.
[He's left standing in front of his doorway for a few seconds, one foot propped on his toes mid-step as he debates pulling his hands from his warm pockets or playing soccer with this gift... The former. Inside once more and seated on the couch, he slots his fingers under taped paper edges, popping the gift wrapping open without ripping into it like some heathen beast. Reading the note alongside the gifts cycles several reactions and emotions.
Look, he expected SOMETHING perverted today. He didn't expect it from Keita! Guess who's getting this rammed up his ass next time they fuck! He's never felt weirded out and amused at the same time before; good job, TickTock.
One after another, he sets the seasoning to the side all lined up on the couch arm, each getting their own personal perusal. He'll make good use of them in future meals. Just because he eats well doesn't mean he eats bland.
Ashen brows furrow as he takes one flask in hand, scanning up and down for scant moment. What the hell is-? ... Oh. Heh, handmade too. Someone else might think these too sentimental or personal to actually use; he intends to put Keita's hard work to good use when the day comes they get the hell out of here. Good to know he can make timers like this too. He's certainly made several bombs since arriving here.
Bakugo isn't an open book to almost anyone either. Keita both respecting that and resembling that make it easier to hang around him, knowing neither expects deep dives into pasts or feelings. Doesn't prevent a small smile from sneaking to his lips when he reads the man's words. Yeah, they'll meet again soon. Time to go look up beef wellington.]
( Esikko is a little too shy to drop this gift off face to face, even with their fun time just the day prior. So he leaves it at Bakugo's door, knocks and leaves!! The fact that he's gone by the time Bakugo answers means he's improved a lot, right?
The gift is a sizeable box wrapped in elegant gold and white stripes, with a bright red ribbon tied into a bow. Beneath the ribbon, there's a card tucked with paper godetia flowers, since he wanted something to liven it up without tasking Bakugo another living plant. He's already housing quite a few for him, after all.
Inside the box are a variety of other wrapped items, just to make him grumble about having to unwrap more. A fancy whetstone for sharpening his kitchen knives, engraved with his hero name just to be extra. A luxurious black shower robe, for that bit of comfort he's not sure Bakugo always bothers with for himself. A gift certificate for some mapadubu at the red cardinal, with a little note that says "This is like something they make where I'm from! Try it!" Lastly, tucked carefully in a small black box that almost looks made for jewelry, is a coin with the image of a white poppy hand-engraved. The card answers what this one is.
It's written in extremely neat handwriting: )
Merry Christmas, Katsuki. Whatever that really means, it at least means I can show you a little of what you mean to me.
You're always so self sufficient, so it feels like you're impossible to get gifts for, you know? Hehe. But, I think, despite handling yourself so well so that not a single person can worry about you, I want to reach out and give you even more comfort. Is that silly? Too bad~
Everything is self explanatory except the coin. I made it myself, with some magic, and tried to imagine what might represent that role model for you. All Might, right? The flower I used represents peace, so I thought it might suit him. The spell I used means that if you grip that coin tightly in your palm, you'll be able to vividly remember things he's said to you, or things he might say based on your interpretation of him. It's a normal function of your mind, but enhanced, so I hope you find it comforting, rather than weird. Even if you never use it, isn't it pretty?
This got long, but one more thing: thanks for your help yesterday. It was fun. I want to do things like that again, with the both of you, so can we find more excuses for it?
[It also means Bakugo was in his gym room working out and couldn't get to the door in a flash. Towel around his neck, one end wiping at his face, he doesn't need to know who dropped the gift off; Esikko's scent cuts clean through the mix of sweat and resort hallway.
Paper flowers? When did Esikko learn origami? He brushes a finger along one petal before shucking crimson ribbons from their extravagant wrapping. Flowers set to the side, he opens the card first, sitting on his couch edge to read it over.
Whatever it really means. No one's told him the stories behind this holiday, huh. Not sure he's the one to do so, or that Esikko's the person who'd appreciate the origins. So steeped in religion as it is. He pushes the thought aside for now, chuffing softly when his friend suggests his "self sufficiency" makes it hard to gift him. Esikko's not the first person who noted that. He brushes his thumb across the paper, knowing full well more people than he wants worry about him despite all his efforts. Esikko's one of them. Is it silly to want to comfort someone? No.
"Too bad~" he says, and he snorts in amusement. There's the backbone he knows his prince has. Guess he's opening the gifts now since Esikko's note talks to them...
Tch, why the hell are there so many? He has to unwrap each one too! Hefting the whetstone in hand, he traces his hero name's carving with his index joint, wondering what kind of face Esikko made when he told the carver what to inscribe. Guh, is this a shower robe or a mink blanket? Feels heavy, soft, rich, indulgent. He could probably end up sleeping in it on the couch. But in the resort's chilled air, functional. Oh? They actually make something from Esikko's world? Or is the dish an overlap... He'll try it out next time he's at the Red Cardinal.
A coin? ... He wraps his fingers around it as he reads Esikko's explanation. All Might. A memory token of sorts. There's no way he'd ever forget All Might or the things he's said. And yet, considering the resort, he can't say that 100% fully now. Not after August. Not after that curse. If he ever does forget... Esikko... He leans back on the couch, holding the coin as words wander across his mind. Weird. Comforting. Nostalgic. Another nail in determination to find a way home for all of them. To at least make things mutual.
Aa. He had fun yesterday. Probably the best memory he's had in the resort. That's all the "excuse" he needs to agree wih Esikko's request for another time. And the time after. As many as they want.]
( growing up the way he did, promises were a thing always made to be broken. never something to believe in, never something to depend on, never something that he deserved, or treated with any kind of respect. better to expect the worst than to be the kind of naive idiot that thinks something good is gonna happen, right? but bakugou didn't grow up like that. doesn't deserve to be punished like that. which is why he has a gift to exchange with him, too, something that he threatens him not to open until he's by himself, completely alone.
there is a large box, wrapped in ugly christmas paper, that feels heavy: once unwrapped, it will reveal itself as a large, japanese-style rice cooker, brand new and in the box, unopened. even if bakugou already has one in his suite, he knows the kid seems to like cooking: and with all the extra buttons on this one, he'll be able to make all kinds of things from home. something simple, really, but something he hopes can at least mean something--that he thinks of him, what he likes to do, who he is beyond being some mouthy kid hero.
of course, there are two other boxes stacked on top of the larger one, also both individually wrapped in ugly paper; one of them, the smaller one, contains two velvet-lined jewelry boxes. one box contains a single, bright pink stud earring, clearly store-bought, and the other contains a black glass earring, clumsily made by his own hand and his own flame, melting rock into obsidian. the shape isn't perfect, and the hook isn't fully on, but a pair of pliers will tighten it up.
the other box contains another box inside of it, which, once opened, will reveal itself to be about twenty-some odd dvds: mostly for horror movies, but there are some odd, seemingly romantic choices mixed in there, along with at least five dvds of anime and anime movies.
the card is inside this box, tucked neatly among the cases. )
i don't know what it feels like to have someone not give up on me.
i don't care if you understand it, or if you don't, or if you think he was a good father, a good fucking hero, or if you look at my brother and think, "well, why didn't you just turn out this way?" instead of hurting people like he hurt me. there is not a day that goes by that i don't wonder if i'm still alive, if this is still really me, inside this body, and i'm so tired of being in it, so tired of the burden of his sins on my shoulders. i'm tired. i want it to be over. and i know you hate it, and i know you'll never see it the same way i do, and that's okay, for me.
you haven't given up on me. even when i pushed, even when i fucking failed, even when everything went to shit, here. you didn't let me lay down and die, and i didn't let you, either.
and it's weird, isn't it? that being in this place makes me wonder what it could have been like. that i can laugh and smile around you like i'm someone else. maybe i am. maybe you're the kind of person that can do that for someone.
i hate what you've done to me, on the inside. i have to say that, even if - even if writing it, i don't actually hate it. it feels good when you look at me, anyway, feels good when we fuck, feels good when you're there in the morning, when you say my name, when you're so fucking blown out that you want to laugh or cry or come but i won't let you do any of it.
i'm no hero, but i wish i could be that kind of good, for you. cause i'm selfish. cause i'm jealous. you know what i mean.
i just saw you, but i want to see you again. stupid, huh? well, whatever. burn this after you read it.
[there are things he deserves, things he would accept as punishment or atonement for his own actions in the past. even if the person wronged would never attempt to rake him across the coals. meeting with touya for their promised trade feels strange, a mixture of comfort washing over his skin and anxiety gnawing under his flesh. neither of them had to show up, and yet, he promised... made the trade, took it back to his room to open it with no prying eyes. amusing touya'd growl at him to open it alone. as if he wants anyone else interfering with their time together.
sheets bunched around his legs and hips, he slots his fingers through mismatched folds and patchwork tape, pops garish wrapping paper free, and splays open the contents. heh, a rice cooker. impressive, sturdy, efficient. fuck, touya's unconsciously psychic. he needed a new one, since his is going on a year and a half now and showing its age. should tease him about this being the villain's way of wanting more meals cooked for him. tch, nothing hero related, nothing taunting. a simple, nice gift showing touya sees him as more than a loud-mouthed hero. all his life, he wanted people to look at him and see an amazing hero... but now he knows how damn important it is, a comfort and relief, to have someone look at him and see nothing more than him. damn, now each time he cooks with this, he'll think of touya. crispy's gonna get meal invites more often.
jewelry boxes? paper shed and lids cracked, he turns one about in his hand, quirking a brow as light gleams across its faceted rosy surface. pink. would it serve his ass right if he showed up wearing this in his tongue?! not gonna do that. it's undeniably pretty. the second one pauses him, fingers hovering over its obsidian shine. nothing from the store. no, this was handmade... touya's own flame and hands. imperfect, flawed, worked on... fucking outshines any piece of jewelry he's ever seen in the damn resort. yeah, a simple pliers grip tightens the hook and he trades out the cuff-like piece on his shell for this one. each little twitch of his head makes the dangling spire tap his skin, reminding him it's there. might take a bit to get used to its presence...
holy shit, did touya drop off his dvd library? he rummages across their spines like he's checking his letters, noting horror movie after horror, pulls a face at the potential romance (he's gonna make him watch one with him so they can both roll their eyes and squirm!), and smirks over those final anime boxes. dork. damn right he'll be kicking back and popcorning with them.
with everything set aside, he leans back in bed, hand cupped around one side of touya's card. giving his words his full attention as they drop into his chest. things they can't say to each other verbally. face to face, too many shields and expectations blocking their lips. somehow, texting and handwriting make it easier. was it the same for touyas it was for him? being able to write this instead of saying it? he curls his free fingers into the sheets, refusing to let himself jump online and respond these surged emotions. so much he wants to say, so much he bites back as his chest clenches and his throat dips despite himself. how can one man make him want to smirk and scream at the same time? to grab him by the collar and shake his shitty head off for being a fucking moron, yet simultaneously pull him in and kiss him until his lungs protest and there's no doubt between them he's accepted despite everything.
he's wondered what it could have been like as well... this all could've been the other way around. yet they laugh and smile together, he growls under touya's teasing, glows smug when he manages to needle the man in return. "what if" and "if only" swim across his mind as he rests his head on the pillow, free arm flopped overhead as the letter settles between his other hand and his beating chest. hate. don't hate. weird. wanted. good. bad. selfish. jealous.
aa. it's stupid. and yet, he refuses to give it up. refuses to give up on him. sorry, touya, but i can't burn your heart.he'll be putting the card in his safe.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@eve
Date: 6/12/25 23:09 (UTC)Are you free right now?
no subject
Date: 6/12/25 23:40 (UTC)Maybe.
What?
[So friendly...]
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From:banditking
Date: 6/15/25 05:17 (UTC)oi hey boomer!! I'm in need of a hero! It's an emergency!
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Date: 6/15/25 18:49 (UTC)you gonna spit it out or keep being vague?
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From:text ; un: wildflower
Date: 7/5/25 02:44 (UTC)If it ever comes up with that plant bandit, pretend you don't know me.
Can you teach me how to break those holds soon? Today?
( don't worry about his rush, all of a sudden, )
no subject
Date: 7/5/25 02:49 (UTC)[Goddammit, what is with Esikko being a magnet for danger and threat?!]
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From:text, un: till
Date: 7/8/25 04:56 (UTC)but i went to that place you suggested. that aquarium restaurant. and sat in a booth.
yeah. you were right about the view. so i guess thanks.
but you're still wrong about how old i look!
( ooc: just going to backdate this to 06/22 )
no subject
Date: 7/8/25 05:26 (UTC)che, least something was good about that stupid cruise.
what? 45's pretty close.
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From:text ; un: wildflower
Date: 7/21/25 15:01 (UTC)That overgrown weed doesn't just want to kill me, anymore. He's threatening everyone I know.
He only knows of you, and Dabi. I never wanted him to learn of anyone, but he's surprisingly quiet when he's following someone. ( you try to enjoy ONE carnival game )
If he tries anything funny to try and draw you out, even if it means letting me die, I think you should stay away.
no subject
Date: 7/21/25 22:49 (UTC)Bakugo snarls and twists to the side, heading back to the carnival.
"Everyone" consisting of only two people isn't a comfort.]
If he tries shit on me, I'll kill him.
[No hesitation. No excuse. A single line.]
Where are you?
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From:(late august) video ; un: wildflower (CWs: gore, torture, stitching, etc)
Date: 8/11/25 03:58 (UTC)His eyes are teary, pointed at Chobe rather than at the screen itself— it seems like he can't really move. And rather than words, it's something like a pained growl that makes it out of him. )
( ooc: main thread here but I will give the signal when it's time to hop in~ )
no subject
Date: 8/11/25 04:32 (UTC)Flicked up into the air above his hand and summarily played ou-
-for all of a goddamn second.]
WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GET INTO THIS TIME?!
[As if he's gonna be able to answer with those shitty vines in his mouth. Stitching lips shut and silencing him. Something intense erupts outside the screen, momentarily blinding the entire thing with a furious yellow-orange light.]
Goddamn son of a bitch. You better keep yourself alive until we get there, or I'll fucking kill you!
[Movement, another explosion.]
And make sure that shitty compost pile doesn't die either.
(no subject)
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From:breakdown
Date: 8/16/25 00:50 (UTC)Guah! [where-!? upright. shadows. darkness. a single overhead light abruptly strikes in his eyes. pain skewers into his mind, reflexively jerks his head back in recoil. everything hurts, everything pounds. *thub thub ... thub thub* his own heart reminds him it exists, startling his nerves with its sound. picking itself out of a dreaming haze, life begins to claw back into his consciousness. where is... he...
eyes stare back at him from ahead. his eyes. floating in his own face. familiar eyes he's seen before but his chest seizes up in a split second. no-! his eyes aren't his eyes! then they area. wait... blinking once, twice, completely red and white. tiny veins crawl through his sclera, reaching in needy strain towards his irises. *thub thub ... thub thub* hurting. hurtin. burning as if they'd been roasting in front of a fire for far too long. his eyelids can't flush enough water to balm it. does he even have water in his ducts anymore? he can't tell. he doesn't know.
why... why can he see his own face? a mirror. slowly his brain begins piecing the world together. reaches to the left, grasps a frame, pulls until the wall meets with his mirror's edge. reaches to the right, grasps a frame, pulls until the wall meets his mirror's edge. reaches up-- mirror's eyes. cobbling it into one focal point: caving sink, straight counter. a bathroom vanity swallowing his entire figure as if he's standing in a silver mouth looming behind.
what just happened? reality squishes together in a single picture, leaving him standing with his arms braced on the edge. shaking with effort he can't remember or a minute. he can't remember... for more than a minute. *thub thub ... thub thub* he crawls backwards in his own mind, trying to locate something he can grasp among the darkness. a memory, a moment, something-!!
you're coming with me for an hour
his voice. beating in his skull. he hears it from his own lips, it came from his mouth. an arm slings around someone's shoulder, tightening in a way he hasn't done in years. notched at their neck, free hand on their body, smoke rising with a hissing crinkle of clothing. threatening. what the fuck?! he wouldn't be threatening some innocent person like that?! he doesn't-!! *thub thub ... thub thub*
a bottle smashes on the ground, glass shattering as he shoves backwards from the bathroom mirror. fuck... fucking nightmare. fingers dig into his hair, scuffing his scalp. it's all black in there. in his brain. a lump of coal black lead. and he's standing in front of it, stomach instantly dropping to his feet as his eyes lock with its shape. a figure, a person, similar in size and shape to someone familiar. someone he knows very well. he's seen him each morning in the mirror. *thub thub ... thub thub* run away. run away! you don't need to see what's under there!
footstep stalk through his suite, bare on the ground and plush carpet alternating. don't fuck with him! he's not afraid of anything! one step, two step, until his toes sink into inky soil and his fingers plunge into obsidian dirt. not afraid. both hands scoop and he hauls back, dragging the dirt away. not afraid! another scrape, pulling more away as he crouches over its ominous shape. something's under here. someone's under here! ... RUN AWAY!!]
SHUT UP!! [let him see-!!
Shitty liar. Spill it or I'll blast your head all over the table!
his voice again, sprinkled among clattering chips and a human body splayed out on the table below. vicious and snarling, not the same growling threat he spills out so easily. his nape tightens up, his hairline twitches as his flesh squeezes around his body. *thub thub ... thub thub* not his voice. yes your voice! That's not my Voice! IT IS YOUR VOICE!! another handful of dirt, frozen in the air, suddenly unsure of whether he needs to keep digging into this mound.
Is that the best your roots-for-brains can shit out?
fuck. fuck! it wasn't-! anything, what, anything! clenching in his ribs until his throat stifles itself. breathe, breathe, you fucking-! *crash!* ceramic shatters against the wall, shards flying through the air. hunched at the table in his dining room, he braces one arm on the surface, eyes widening as everything begins to come into clear. his hands are moving in his mind, frantically clawing at soil atop his mound. he can't tell if he's trying to pull it off or shove it back on! don't look! look at me. don't fucking look at it! look at you!
orange light glowing like hell all around. burning rubber and melting metal mix with glass grains sticking in his shoulder and arm. *thub thub thub thub* he was here, he was there, he saw him, esikko called him! he trusted him to come to him, to help him, to save him! but he didn't come to him! someone else did... it had to be someone else! the crackling sound of fire grows in his ears, forcing his head up in alarm. it's burning! all of it's burning! cars, walls, floor, saturated in smoke, gas, blood, flesh, flowers! charred fingers curling, a gurgling breath trying its hardest to stay alive. he was there... he was there! all he had to do was reach for him--!!
Let him go.
he said that. those damnable words. a hero. a hero spoke them to someone dying! HE SPOKE THEM! his face, his mouth, esikko's visage burning and crying below him and all he did was turn away from him! bile surges in his throat, his mind reeling against itself. nothing like aizawa chiding him for collateral damage. he's been upbraided before for a personal grudge from that ponytail girl! best jeanist reprimanded him for black and white views and how he didn't care about what others or felt. each of them, to him, to be a better hero! a hero?! WHAT KIND OF HERO WILLINGLY LETS SOMEONE DIE LIKE THAT?! WHAT HERO DOESN'T CARE SO BADLY, HE HURRIES IT ALONG LIKE THEIR DEATH MEANS NOTHING?!
fuck- fuck it all! don't fuck with him! that wasn't him! *thub thub thub thub* heat swells in his palm so hard it's agonizing! fear, rage, frustration, terror, fury so hot his vision's red and his arm wrenches in his socket as he slams it forward. blinding illumination erupts, blowing the television off the wall. wood fattens in a bloated moment before the entertainment center ruptures outward.] DON'T FUCK WITH ME!! YOU FUCKING ASS LIAR!!
[stop it! stop it! stop digging into that grave! stop opening it up were his hands are blackened with sticky blood and his skin reeks of crimson smoke and flames. grasping his own shoulder, pulling at it as if somehow he can grapple the him in his head and pull him off that damnable mound! he knows what's under there now! he knows every repulsive hateful memory slithering within! for the love of god- stop fucking digging! *thubthub thubthub*
I'll kill you! Scram! Go to hell! If you want-
NOT THAT ONE!! touya's face, glaring at him under such ice masking a pain he never thought he could experience again. his breath catches in his neck, knotting into ball after ball until his lungs scream for breath which won't come! he has to scream and he can't! only stare in the man's face, at his smile dangling like a noose. hurting beneath those scars, beneath his own years of agony. someone else he could have saved, could have helped, could have reached for-- a hero should have- A HERO SHOULD- A HERO-
YOU WANT ME TO CRY OVER YOU THAT BADLY?
FUCK FUCK GODDAMMIT FUCK FUUUCK!! he can't destroy anything fast enough! die! all of it! DIE!! DIE!! craters blast into the walls, light fixtures jump on their stalks before smashing into ceiling angles, arms churning back and forth in desperate effort to shut his brain up! explosion, explosion! be gone! destroy it all! Blow up! GET OUT!! BLOW IT OUT!! GET OF HIS HEAD!! GET OUT!! *thubthubthubthub*
everything's peeling away, dragging screaming layers of his mind back in one gory strip after another. leaving the last 24 hours in dripping disgusting raw nakedness for his viewing pleasure. esikko lying in ruin, touya dropped on his knees, an empty spot digging into his ribs because he couldn't even catch the person responsible! every cursed minute, presented on a golden platter held between glinting clawed fingers beneath a drooling gilded beak! every fucking thing he did, every crime his hands committed, every kill dripping off his skin!
he couldn't stop chobe, he couldn't save esikko, he couldn't help touya! all he focused on was himself! his victory! his ego! not angry esikko died! angry he didn't get to kill chobe first. not caring touya was suffering. caring he hadn't been able to win the battle! furious chobe go away and spit on his all consuming all important pride! *SMASH!* a beast in the room, standing amid ruin and destruction. furniture wheezes beneath flames, glass shatters under smoke, his counter groans in death as it droops to the side and slowly falls into a carved-out grave in the floor. *thubthubthubthub!*
can't breathe! lungs ache! sweat's dry! leaking everything out of him, he's seeping his life and brains out of his fucking pores! clutching at his chest, clawing into his own skin, breaking out and tugging free, he has to breathe, you have to breathe! calm down! calm down! blow up! Blow Up! BLOW IT ALL UP!]
It's a lie. It's a lie! IT'S A FUCKING LIE!!
[no lie. all truth. every single strip of his 24 hours dangles from the room like so many oozing streamers. i'm gonna be the greatest hero when i grow up! slowly twisting his hands around in front of his face, eyes widening at their quivering image. bloody. burnt. it's all inside him. he's capable of all of it. negative traits brought roaring to the surface. i won't let anyone else tell me what to do! his anger and short temper elevated into a trigger-happy violate monster. his selfishness and pride swollen to overthrow everything and anyone else within his life. his desire for victory consuming every challenge in a vicious rush for his win, crushing everything else underfoot until he's at the top of a mountain made from their bodies. you can shove your offer and go to hell! i've always admired all might! nothing's gonna change that!
all of that is inside of him... something's in there.. something i can't control... someone which... a hero would never... a hero would never... do what i did... all might would never... all might... hero... he's a hero! ... he's a- he's not a... he's not a-! ... he- hero-!]
ɎØɄ~VłⱠⱠ₳łn
--!! [his throat tears open and screams himself bloody raw]
[𝗳𝖺𝗂𝗹𝗎𝙧𝗲 𝘩𝗲𝙧𝗼 𝗹𝖺𝖼𝙠𝗂𝗇𝗴 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗲t𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝖺𝙧 𝙨𝗲𝗽𝖺𝙧𝖺t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝗲𝘃𝗂𝗹 𝖼𝗼𝗇t𝖺𝖼t 𝖺tt𝖺𝖼𝘩𝗺𝗲𝗇t t𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝙧 𝖽𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗇𝖽𝗲𝗇𝖼𝗲 𝙨𝗎𝗽𝗲𝙧𝗂𝗼𝙧𝗂t𝘆 𝗽𝗂t𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗂'𝗺 𝖺 𝘩𝗲𝙧𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗇t𝖺𝗹 𝖼𝗼𝗇t𝖺𝗺𝗂𝗇𝖺t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝗳𝗂𝙧𝙨t 𝗽𝗹𝖺𝖼𝗲 𝖽𝗲𝙨𝗂𝙧𝗲 𝘃𝗂𝖼t𝗼𝙧𝘆 𝖽𝗼𝗇't 𝘃𝗂𝗼𝗹𝖺t𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘃𝗂𝗹𝗹𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝙨t𝗼𝗽 𝗂𝗳 𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝗲𝖽 𝘸𝗂t𝘩 𝗺𝗲 𝗇𝗼 𝗂 𝘩𝖺t𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝗎 𝗽𝙧𝗲𝙨𝗎𝗺𝗽t𝗎𝗼𝗎𝙨𝗇𝗲𝙨𝙨 𝘸𝗲𝖺𝙠𝗹𝗂𝗇𝗴 𝗹𝖺t𝗲𝗇𝖼𝘆 𝖽𝗼𝗇't 𝘣𝗲 𝗺𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗳𝗲𝙨t 𝙧𝗲𝖺𝖼t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗳𝗲𝙧𝗂𝗼𝙧𝗂t𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝙧𝗳𝗲𝖼t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝙨𝗂𝗇𝗴 𝘸𝗂𝗹𝗹𝗽𝗼𝘸𝗲𝙧 𝗲𝙨𝗂𝙠𝙠𝗼 𝖼𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗇𝙨𝖺t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝖽𝗼𝗇't 𝗹𝗼𝗇𝗲𝗹𝘆 t𝗼𝗎𝘆𝖺 𝗽𝙧𝗂𝗺𝖺𝙧𝘆 𝗂𝖽𝗲𝗇t𝗂𝗳𝗂𝖼𝖺t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝖽𝗼𝗇't 𝘣𝗲 𝙧𝖺t𝗂𝗼𝗇𝖺𝗹𝗂𝘻𝖺t𝗼𝗇 𝗼𝘣𝗹𝗂𝘃𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝖽𝗲𝖼𝗲𝗽t𝗂𝗼𝗇 𝘩𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗲𝗇 𝗺𝗼𝗇𝙨t𝗲𝙧 𝗂𝗇𝗳𝖺𝗇t𝗂𝗹𝗲 𝗲𝗑𝗽𝗲𝙧𝗂𝗲𝗇𝖼𝗲 𝙨𝗲𝗇𝙨𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝙨𝙨 𝗺𝗎𝙧𝖽𝗲𝙧 𝗽𝖺𝘆𝗺𝗲𝗇t 𝙨𝘆𝗺𝘣𝗂𝗼𝙨𝗂𝙨 𝘩𝗼𝙨t𝗂𝗹𝗂t𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗺!]
[smoke and ash, flickering flames, walls and ceiling cratered with pocket marks, ruins scattered around in splintered wood and shattered metal, surrounding a single figure twitching half-curled in a pathetic position against the farthest wall, one hand clutching his upper arm in the darkness as a soft orange glow sparks and bursts between his fingers in repeated detonations against his own flesh.]
un: great explosion murder god dynamight
Date: 8/16/25 03:23 (UTC)no clue why, not even sure how it happened. a silent flicker of light cuts through his blackened room, illuminating his wrist as his watch activates. names... people... someone who might know a fraction of what it feels like... someone who he trusts... who could help...
one person...]
help
un: cyclops
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From:late at night after the 29th :)
Date: 8/20/25 16:57 (UTC)How could he? That sickly scent from earlier still lingers. That scent, and the assortment of aches and pains that accompanied it. He wants to stop thinking about those things, but he can't: not when he has a strong and eerie suspicion about what it all means. Not when he can guess roughly what happened and knows exactly who was responsible.
There's nothing he could have done. Even though he had an idea of what was happening, he couldn't do anything. But did anyone else know? Did anyone step in and try to stop it...?
It does no good to wonder. But he can't do anything else, and so late at night, he turns on his watch and starts typing a message. Not to Esikko, but to the hero who might've been called as back-up.]
Do you know what happened to Esikko-kun?
no subject
Date: 8/20/25 17:10 (UTC)His thoughts break when a single sound chimes in the air, eye narrowed at the projected screen on his watch. Who the hell's calling at this time of night? ... Oh, this idiot. With a curious question.]
He died. Is this shit big news now?
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From:for @ laserguy
Date: 8/21/25 01:45 (UTC)[Holy shit. He never thought he'd come from fucking someone else's thighs. Slumping molten against Scott's back, Bakugo clings to him through his orgasm, muscles clenched and shuddering with each hard spurt gushing across his friend's balls. His face's flushed, breath catching in his throat, fingers digging into the other teen's chest as if he'll sink and drown if he lets go. Bastard didn't even come with him. Scott's penis twitches and throbs in his grip, stubbornly refusing to break even as Bakugo spills himself into the water-
There he goes. Shouting into the sky, body tensing up like a wire against his chest and legs. Bakugo drags him flush to his torso, holding on tightly as his friend rides out wave after wave of his own intense climax. His snarls ease off into panting breaths, forehead dropping as his bangs hide his eyes beneath a shadowed veil. Scott's balls churn over his glans, rising and falling with each pump of semen from his tip, tortuously massaging his overly-sensitive head. It's almost more mesmerizing than his penis twitching and spurting in his hand, diamond hard as he pumps a few more dregs out of his leaking mast.
Both of them manage to wring out a few final dregs from each other, thighs and hand working in tandem until they're lying worn and panting on the jetski bobbing in open blue.]
no subject
Date: 8/24/25 16:56 (UTC)It's nice. He likes it a lot, even.
Though his breath hitches when he Bakugo's grip on his softening cock doesn't relent, the mutant pushing back against the muscular form still splattered against his back and bitching at him in a voice that's trying to sound annoyed, but mostly sounds out of breath. Maybe just a little warm.]
I'm done, dipshit. [And yet, he squeezes the penis between his thighs one more time before finally letting him go-- legs puling away from their clamped position and allowing them to float more freely in the water.
There's a moment where he feels so content, being in the water out here with Bakugo's form plastered against him, but.]
Guess we're tied now. [Definitely some smugness entering his voice there.]
(no subject)
From:wrapped? :>
From:🎀 good wrap for me!
From:for @ laserguy
Date: 8/21/25 02:56 (UTC)[Bakugo waits for Scott to get his legs braced before he picks up his pace. Pounding into him in full view of each other. He can see everything, from his friend's splayed thighs and open knees to his chest rising and falling with each thrust slamming into his ass. Goddamn lewd sight, Scott's flushed face contrasting with his penis flopping and bouncing between his legs in time with Bakugo's thrusts. He wants the mutant to watch and see himself getting fucked hard. Not look away in embarrassment.
Hot gasps and whimpers spill into his ears, punctuated by each heady slap of his balls into Scott's taint. Bakugo can't hold back his lips curling a grin from cheek to cheek when he hears the mutant's voice hitch up like that. High pitched and surprised, then melting into a low moan. His ass feels amazing, fluttering around his penis in time with his abdomen crunching under his skin. Bakugo's voice pumps out in thicker sounds, grunt and curses dusting Scott's mouth as he forces them both to look in the mirror and watch.
He ducks his head slightly, growling as arms wind around his head and nape. Sweat drips along his temple and cheek, mingling with Scott's in glittering drops to his chest. Each squelch and slop mingles with wet slaps as he pounds into him, mesmerized by his friend's balls and dick bouncing above his own vanishing shaft plunging into Scott's ass.] Do it. [Right there, dropping his hips and impaling himself on his dick over and over. Scott's fucking himself on his cock as much as Bakugo's spearing it up into him.
Everything goes white a second later, shouting into the air as he slams himself balls deep inside his friend. Fuck, he's cumming! He's cumming so damn hard, pumping his seed into Scott's ass almost at the same time as the mutant paints his chest and stomach white. Splattering his thighs and groin as Bakugo fills his insides to the brim and more. He refuses to stop, driving his hips and fucking both of them clean through their orgasm. Maybe even chasing a second if he gives it to Scott hard enough.]
no subject
Date: 8/24/25 18:41 (UTC)Fuck, when is he going to stop? He feels like he can't. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with his own orgasm, and yet unable to express anything else but a fucked out groan, a whimper actually dislodging from his throat as Bakugo continues to jerk and pump him full of his seed. So much. It's so much. And yet he feels so fulfilled. He tightens his body, as if trying to keep it in, but some still drips from his ass as his erection continues to bounce in front of him. Fuck, why isn't it going down yet-- something raw clawing at him at the sight. His bouncing need, slick with his own spend, coming untouched, because of the pleasure shooting through his nerves.
He feels himself at the edge once more, or maybe he never left it in the first place.]
Fuck, fuck... I... I'm going to come again.
[His spine arches, Scott's thighs shaking and tensing in Bakugo's grip, before the mutant comes again, a strangled scream actually pulling from the teen as more white fluid paints his chest and the mirror as he spasms, balls bouncing above the dick still inside him and not stopping as each jerk of his hips push out more of his release from his trembling slit. It feels like it shouldn't be possible, even though they're both young, but Scott just rides everything out-- mind too fucked out to really think about it more.
At least after that orgasm, his cock finally starts to soften-- although one particular string continues to connect his spent need to his inner thigh.]
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From:want to wrap this up? :>
From:🎀 good wrap for me! finish it up if you like!
From:🎀
From:backdated to 9/5 or thereabouts
Date: 9/8/25 16:47 (UTC)It feels like an intake of air; like surfacing after being underwater, like releasing a long-held note while singing. It's not that things felt wrong before, with the connection gone. Why would they? That link was never supposed to exist in the first place. He was never meant to be bound to someone from another world, someone whose life had nothing to do with his. Even when he did agree to the link, it was with the assumption that it'd go away after the Hearts game, at the latest.
Yet being unable to sense it—to sense Esikko—felt strange and eerie after so long. Not least of all because he knew the reason that he couldn't, that the link died because Esikko did. Would it come back? Would he come back? That's what always happens in the resort, they say. But no one else Hiyori knew had ever died here.
But he can feel it, what was missing before. He comes to his senses, picks up his stuff and steps aside, turning on his watch and opening his messages.]
It happened. He's alive.
no subject
Date: 9/10/25 03:01 (UTC)Hiyori's message freezes his air and drops it into his stomach. Instinct slams its heels into the ground and he threatens to break instinct's legs if it dares to stop him. Even still... it takes a few seconds to respond.]
I'll meet you on the stairs.
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From:Early October
Date: 10/4/25 14:19 (UTC)Fuck, why should he even bother? What's the point of reaching out, of making any kind of damn bond, if it can all be torn away or corrupted in a goddamn second? More hooks in the heart, more distractions to tie him down, more pain when shit goes wrong! He doesn't need to feel wretched holes punched in his stomach! Feel his guts give out when another name he knew blanks on the screen! This place wants them to play nice together, grow closer, then actively sabotages their efforts! Fuck, it's gonna drive him crazy!
And yet, he's pressing his thumb on the screen, staring at the display bloomed up in front of him like a glowing wallpaper. Lying on his side in his bed, as if it might make him feel better to at least know someone he knew hasn't vanished...
...yet.
Been a while since he's actually had contact with this guy. Someone like him wouldn't give a damn, right? Who comes, who stays, all of it's a pain. As if he buys that load of bullshit. He's good at deflection too.]
@ Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight
hey, have you been here from the start?
this place is pissing me off.
no subject
Date: 10/4/25 19:03 (UTC)anyway.
days blend together with the exception of the random little events that the resort likes to shove onto people. a festival one day, a camp the next, but at the end of them all he's back in his huge ass suite where he has rooms that are still occupied by friends. by people who haven't been unfortunate enough to become a statue or disappear all together. he can't say he's used to the sight of a message never returned yet. voices and faces he will try his best not to forget.
but he might end up doing it anyway. that's just how it goes, right? ]
mhm
years now.
why?
you find something in your ass you didn't expect to see?
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From:text ; un: meltokiho
Date: 10/5/25 02:16 (UTC)( He remembers his name, but he's obnoxious at all times, so of course he's gotta use every other name in the book. )
It's me, the one and only handsome Zelos. ✨ What floor is the gym on?
( ...Why is he using Bakugo as a directory? For fun, mostly. )
no subject
Date: 10/5/25 02:32 (UTC)[Legit question. Wait... it takes him a while to remember, but soon enough he does, but he is not gonna admit this!
Yet.]
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From:a week or so into the month
Date: 10/8/25 16:44 (UTC)Only it isn't a shock, not really. On a bone-deep level, he knew this was coming. He's seen so many people disappear, after all. First it was Deuce, then Robin-kun, then the girl named Monika he always bullied. After that it was Rinne, whom he shed so many tears for, whose absence he feels acutely even now. There was Weiss and Hilda and Weiss's boyfriend, and there was Reign, whom he entrusted with Rinne's statue. There was Hua Cheng, who gave him the string that connects him to Jun, and there was Leo, which almost as badly as Rinne did, and more recently, there was Till. And then, at the end of it all, there's an empty spot in Hiyori's bed, and the feeling of half his heart missing.
He knew. After all those other people, how could he not know? He's had nightmares about this happening, and he's seen this play out already in the Punishment Room. He knew. No matter how unfair it was, or how cruel, he knew it was coming. It didn't matter that he would've rather given up his own life. Jun disappeared, he's frozen as a statue inside the resort, and he won't wake up—not unless he turns back. But he won't. Rinne and Leo never did. None of those people are back.
At least he knows what to do next. That's the one saving grace, the thing keeping him functional. Unless the resort takes him next, there's still something he can do: he can work on his deck, and make progress towards earning his Wish. He just won't start doing it right this second, since right now he can't imagine getting out of bed, let alone getting into it with someone else. For Jun's sake, though, he'll have to.
Eventually he does get out of bed, and when he does it's to follow the string attached to his finger. Even now, that red string is still tied as tightly as ever, which means following it should lead to Jun's statue.
But an hour of following it turns into two hours, then three hours. Still he sees no end in sight. Where could it be leading him? Does it stretch on forever? Jun's statue has to be somewhere.
...unless...
Suddenly, he remembers what Hua Cheng told him. About being unable to find the string's end. His own partner disappeared, but his string didn't lead to any statue. He thought it must be leading him someplace outside the resort.
As Hiyori remembers this, his heart pounds. Does it prove anything? Hua Cheng didn't seem to know anything for sure. There's no guarantee his own string won't lead to a statue. Yet he can't stop himself from wondering. He tries again the next day, and he still can't find the string's end. Maybe it'll take days or weeks. Or maybe there is no end to find. But he can still feel it's connected to something. Which means what, exactly?
Instead of following the string, he decides to try a different approach and look for the statue normally. With that goal in mind, he finally does reach out. He hates to bring Bakugo more bad news, but there's no point in hiding the truth from him. Bakugo agrees to go looking, since he's a good kid like that. As for Hiyori, he decides to start with Beak. Rinne's statue appeared in the place he frequented most often, and Jun was always at the gym, so he lets Bakugo search elsewhere while he enters Beak and looks through the weight room. Then the training rooms, the boxing ring, the showers...
He spends easily an hour, but finds nothing. As he finds himself wandering the length of the pool, and then the basketball court, the string still leading him nowhere in particular, he wonders if he's barking up the wrong tree. But then he spots the entrance to the tennis courts. Jun was on the tennis team at Reimei; they've battled each other one-on-one before. It's worth a shot.
So he searches. And then, after a few minutes:]
Come to the tennis courts.
sorry for the delay - family over for the weekend
Date: 10/12/25 23:53 (UTC)These last lingering remnants of their existence here continue to be left over importance to the people who remain. He shouldn't care, yet he does... Offering his rank to anyone who might need to find and relocate the statues of those important to them who are no longer here. Thankfully... or horribly... He keeps the atrocious information he learned recently to himself. Hell or high water couldn't pry those words from his lips when it came to Hiyori. Not now.
Why the hell does it have to be this way? All their intentions and strength mean nothing to this fucking place. When it can pull them out at the twitch of its own whim. Stay and form bonds, it says. Why the fuck should they? When no one's assured to staying with them? ... He knows how ridiculous such a thought sounds; people would never get close to anyone if they feared the person they opened their heart to would be gone at some point. But...
He's already gone through so many recently. One hook after another torn from his chest, leaving his already-destroyed and rebuilt organ throbbing in agony. Emotional damage's as much a bitch as physical. Losing people he cared about. Fuck. Accepting Hiyori's request at least gave him something to do. Exploring the resort, looking in places he's found or seen statues before, ominous slime drooling the length of his nape. He's literally searching for someone's corpse. How fucked up is tha-?
A text... Bakugo glowers at his watch, eyes burning beneath his choppy bangs above. Dammit.]
On my way.
Absolutely no worries!
From:Re: Absolutely no worries!
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From:text // @dodger
Date: 10/10/25 14:50 (UTC)got a minute?
i got more info about that other person who brought something from home
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Date: 10/11/25 13:24 (UTC)(no subject)
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From:for @ laserguy ~ Spooky Date for Hallowteens
Date: 10/24/25 02:41 (UTC)Lights of orange, purple, green, blacks glittered and glowed in yards and in front of doors, captured beneath a large silver moon, a white crescent, or naught by inky starlight above. Cool autumn air chilled his face whenever he lifted his mask, leaves crunched underfoot for a gush of foliage scent mingled with lawn and concrete. Each year another few inches taller, each year another few rounds smarter. Until finally it wasn't that fun anymore, relegated to kids...
He grew out of it. Something made painfully obvious as he goes step by step through the resort halls. Ghostly paintings on the wall, ignored. A cackling ghost above misses him completely and hits the floor. Some idiot in a costume lunges at him for a fright and ends up head first in the trashcan nearby. Smoking. It's insulting this place conjures up holidays from Earth, a holiday most of them are aware of and celebrated back home, and splays it out for them. Ostensibly trying to help them feel more at home, included and cared for-- see, you can have this here too! --while it really does little more than remind him he's not at home. Fucking bird.
His sour mood plays counterpoint to a quiet thrum of anticipation wandering across his skin. Of course he's been on dates before in the resort. With a number of people. But only a few of them actually mean anything more than "lets have lunch together" and melds with the other experiences mushed into his memories. Scott's one of them. He stands out, not only because he's a superhero-in-training like Bakugo, but the mutant's also one of the closest friends he has in the resort. Hanging out, training, tackling events, sex (of course). Scott's been there for him a lot. A comfort in this crazy world of forced bonding and temptation-laden emptiness.
Footsteps scuff to a stop in the hall outside the arcade. It's the easiest place to meet up. Guess the resort wants to play similar tricks, because Bakugo's decked out in a similar costume to his last year. Werewolf, with a rough costume to go along with his chain-dangling collar, wrist shackle, and lupine extras. Ears flicking with each alerted sound, tail hanging low against his thighs, fangs hidden behind his resting scowl, and clawed fingers shoved into his pants pockets. Which may have a few cuts along the inner seam thanks to said claws...
After seeing Scott's regalia during the gala event, he's curious what the mutant's gonna be slapped in for Halloween.]
no subject
Date: 10/26/25 22:04 (UTC)So, honestly, he's in a pretty good mood.
And it's a mood that's only improved as he meets Bakugo for their date. One of his longest lasting friends here, not to mention one of the closest, just because of how similar they are in a bunch of shit and the things they've been through together. Not to mention... he's glad that Bakugo is feeling just a bit better now after everything, enough that he's been wanting to go on a date. Scott will take it. He genuinely wants to see how he's doing in all this. Honestly, it kind of is the most important thing to him.
So as he nears the other teen...]
Are you supposed to be a werewolf? [Scott just immediately blurting that out, amusement clear in his voice. The mutant, on the other hand, is basically dressed as Jason-- complete with black pants and shirt and a rough brown jacket, though the famous hockey mask is sort of plastered to the side of his head.]
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From:un: meltokiho ; text
Date: 10/30/25 06:28 (UTC)( This is all he sends with the information of some KBBQ-style joint somewhere in the resort. It's... a half day's notice, so that's something? )
no subject
Date: 10/31/25 00:33 (UTC)I'll be there.
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From:a back(date)!
Date: 11/15/25 06:57 (UTC)Now, they're well on their hike. Esikko's dressed for comfort and ease of not holding Bakugo back on this light little walk, and since his hair's grown out since arriving here, he's even made sure to tie it back aside from his bangs. He's at least confident in his looks to think that he can rock a more "casual" or even "sporty" or "modern" attire without worrying too much, thankfully, so it's all about enjoying the nature, enjoying the company, and holding this pouch of a backpack he's been carrying over his shoulder with Bakugo's gift inside of it. It has to be given at the right moment, after all! )
Well? I'm not slowing you down too much, am I?
( Lightly, he speaks up, fingers toying with the strap of his bag as he leans forward a little to peer at Bakugo's face. He's careful not to overtake him on the trail, since he's following along and being mindful of where he steps so not to cause any trouble and interrupt a good time. He's trying really hard, honestly, to keep up, to not be too slow, to not run out of breath, to stay going... And he's doing a fair job, really. But it's clear it's on his mind, even if he's acting like it's a joke. It's fine— he can see a break in the trees up ahead, so he knows they'll get to sit for a bit soon. )
Even in artificial weather, the plants here make the air feel so nice... It's a relief on lungs like mine. I do try to get up to the gardens daily, but I'm beginning to think I should wander further into the Vale like this a little more often.
no subject
Date: 11/18/25 03:27 (UTC)But sometimes exceptions happen. He was surprised Esikko even wanted to go on a hike. Okay, "want" and "able to" are different things. The prince has a habit of wanting to do a lot which is outside his usual ability. Bakugo's not going to dis him for reaching past his limits. He judged the man's dress when they met up, ensured it was suitable for hiking, and carried on. Cooler fall weather tinges with the scent of woodland leaves browning into golds and reds, a few drifting past on soft breezes. His boots leave tread prints on the dirt path behind him, his windbreaker's hood dropped back behind his neck for now. A simple pouch clings to one hip, another smaller resting on his opposite thigh. Emergency supplies just in case. Not that the resort's gonna have much danger in the Vale.]
I'm not trying to run. [If he were going at his normal speed, Esikko would be in the dust out of sight without a second to spare. Still, the man's keeping his pace and Bakugo's not forced to slog along at a snail speed. He made it clear when they agreed to this he wasn't going to babysit Esikko on the hike. He had to pull his own weight, note his own stamina and ability. In exchange, Bakugo's willing to take more pauses than he usually would, stopping by some natural benches or boulders. Like the clearing coming up soon.]
If you're gonna hike, do it earlier in the morning. This place gets muggy and hot in the afternoon. [And hiking in the winter's cold bite sucks. Does not recommend.]
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From:text; un: dabi
Date: 12/1/25 18:13 (UTC)no subject
Date: 12/1/25 18:56 (UTC)(no subject)
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From:text ; un: wildflower
Date: 12/3/25 22:56 (UTC)Or at least the start of a plan. I need your help with the rest.
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Date: 12/3/25 23:17 (UTC)(no subject)
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From:Text | UN: iceicebaby
Date: 12/19/25 23:32 (UTC)I hope this message finds you well. It seems our mutual friend, one Hiyori Tomoe, has asked in his absence that I deliver to you a parting package. Is there a time that works for you where I could drop this off?
-Loki
un: great explosion murder god dynamight
Date: 12/23/25 05:20 (UTC)You don't have to be damn formal. The hell do you think this is, a business transaction?
I'm free after 5pm today. Bring your walking shoes. You're gonna help me find his statue.
[Yep, Loki's getting roped into this "fun" quest.]
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From:Delivery
Date: 12/25/25 20:42 (UTC)Do you know you're a rather difficult person to shop for? Practicality over indulgence isn't terribly exciting. I wonder if you'll discover the second use of them.
- Kleken
no subject
Date: 12/29/25 02:09 (UTC)Holy shit, how much did this kind of wristwatch cost?! He sits blinking at it for a second, but quickly finds his eyes wandering from gears to hands to more inner-workings. Kinda fascinating. Blame it on Keita. Might show it to the clock maker later. Does he wear it around the resort, knowing it might get damaged? ... Ugh. He'd prefer it over the shitty cuff of a watch the resort's locked on their wrists.
... and what's this about a "second use" for these gifts. Kleken's always more than his surface.]
( 12/25 ) — special delivery
Date: 12/25/25 21:04 (UTC)When opened, Bakugo will find three gifts. The first is quite clearly a gag gift, a grenade-shaped vibrator that claims to deliver EXPLOSIVE PLEASURE!!! The real gifts are underneath: one, a set of salts and spices infused with various flavors (garlic and chive, mushroom, Sichuan pepper, etc), and the other a set of three glass flasks with clockwork timers. (Keita might not work on clocks in front of Bakugo, but at least now Bakugo can see his clockwork!)
The accompanying card reads, ]
I do hope you'll forgive me for the first gift, but I couldn't pass it by. :)
As for the others: the timer on the flasks can be set on a delay of anywhere from five seconds to five minutes. I hope you don't often have cause to set bombs around the resort, but they should come in handy should the occasion arise.
I hope you know that I've come to consider you a good friend, someone I trust and care for very much. I know that by nature I'm not exactly an open book, but if there's anything you'd like to know about me, I'd gladly tell you.
Also, British food is by and large quite boring, but I am rather good at beef wellington.
Let's see each other again soon. Happy Christmas, Bakugo-kun.
Keita
no subject
Date: 12/29/25 19:33 (UTC)Look, he expected SOMETHING perverted today. He didn't expect it from Keita! Guess who's getting this rammed up his ass next time they fuck! He's never felt weirded out and amused at the same time before; good job, TickTock.
One after another, he sets the seasoning to the side all lined up on the couch arm, each getting their own personal perusal. He'll make good use of them in future meals. Just because he eats well doesn't mean he eats bland.
Ashen brows furrow as he takes one flask in hand, scanning up and down for scant moment. What the hell is-? ... Oh. Heh, handmade too. Someone else might think these too sentimental or personal to actually use; he intends to put Keita's hard work to good use when the day comes they get the hell out of here. Good to know he can make timers like this too. He's certainly made several bombs since arriving here.
Bakugo isn't an open book to almost anyone either. Keita both respecting that and resembling that make it easier to hang around him, knowing neither expects deep dives into pasts or feelings. Doesn't prevent a small smile from sneaking to his lips when he reads the man's words. Yeah, they'll meet again soon. Time to go look up beef wellington.]
christmas gift
Date: 12/26/25 04:49 (UTC)The gift is a sizeable box wrapped in elegant gold and white stripes, with a bright red ribbon tied into a bow. Beneath the ribbon, there's a card tucked with paper godetia flowers, since he wanted something to liven it up without tasking Bakugo another living plant. He's already housing quite a few for him, after all.
Inside the box are a variety of other wrapped items, just to make him grumble about having to unwrap more. A fancy whetstone for sharpening his kitchen knives, engraved with his hero name just to be extra. A luxurious black shower robe, for that bit of comfort he's not sure Bakugo always bothers with for himself. A gift certificate for some mapadubu at the red cardinal, with a little note that says "This is like something they make where I'm from! Try it!" Lastly, tucked carefully in a small black box that almost looks made for jewelry, is a coin with the image of a white poppy hand-engraved. The card answers what this one is.
It's written in extremely neat handwriting: )
Merry Christmas, Katsuki. Whatever that really means, it at least means I can show you a little of what you mean to me.
You're always so self sufficient, so it feels like you're impossible to get gifts for, you know? Hehe. But, I think, despite handling yourself so well so that not a single person can worry about you, I want to reach out and give you even more comfort. Is that silly? Too bad~
Everything is self explanatory except the coin. I made it myself, with some magic, and tried to imagine what might represent that role model for you. All Might, right? The flower I used represents peace, so I thought it might suit him. The spell I used means that if you grip that coin tightly in your palm, you'll be able to vividly remember things he's said to you, or things he might say based on your interpretation of him. It's a normal function of your mind, but enhanced, so I hope you find it comforting, rather than weird. Even if you never use it, isn't it pretty?
This got long, but one more thing: thanks for your help yesterday. It was fun. I want to do things like that again, with the both of you, so can we find more excuses for it?
Sincerely,
Esikko
no subject
Date: 12/29/25 20:09 (UTC)Paper flowers? When did Esikko learn origami? He brushes a finger along one petal before shucking crimson ribbons from their extravagant wrapping. Flowers set to the side, he opens the card first, sitting on his couch edge to read it over.
Whatever it really means. No one's told him the stories behind this holiday, huh. Not sure he's the one to do so, or that Esikko's the person who'd appreciate the origins. So steeped in religion as it is. He pushes the thought aside for now, chuffing softly when his friend suggests his "self sufficiency" makes it hard to gift him.
Esikko's not the first person who noted that.He brushes his thumb across the paper, knowing full well more people than he wants worry about him despite all his efforts. Esikko's one of them. Is it silly to want to comfort someone? No."Too bad~" he says, and he snorts in amusement. There's the backbone he knows his prince has. Guess he's opening the gifts now since Esikko's note talks to them...
Tch, why the hell are there so many? He has to unwrap each one too! Hefting the whetstone in hand, he traces his hero name's carving with his index joint, wondering what kind of face Esikko made when he told the carver what to inscribe. Guh, is this a shower robe or a mink blanket? Feels heavy, soft, rich, indulgent. He could probably end up sleeping in it on the couch. But in the resort's chilled air, functional. Oh? They actually make something from Esikko's world? Or is the dish an overlap... He'll try it out next time he's at the Red Cardinal.
A coin? ... He wraps his fingers around it as he reads Esikko's explanation. All Might. A memory token of sorts. There's no way he'd ever forget All Might or the things he's said. And yet, considering the resort, he can't say that 100% fully now. Not after August. Not after that curse. If he ever does forget... Esikko... He leans back on the couch, holding the coin as words wander across his mind. Weird. Comforting. Nostalgic. Another nail in determination to find a way home for all of them. To at least make things mutual.
Aa. He had fun yesterday. Probably the best memory he's had in the resort. That's all the "excuse" he needs to agree wih Esikko's request for another time. And the time after. As many as they want.]
christmas delivery —
Date: 12/27/25 00:31 (UTC)there is a large box, wrapped in ugly christmas paper, that feels heavy: once unwrapped, it will reveal itself as a large, japanese-style rice cooker, brand new and in the box, unopened. even if bakugou already has one in his suite, he knows the kid seems to like cooking: and with all the extra buttons on this one, he'll be able to make all kinds of things from home. something simple, really, but something he hopes can at least mean something--that he thinks of him, what he likes to do, who he is beyond being some mouthy kid hero.
of course, there are two other boxes stacked on top of the larger one, also both individually wrapped in ugly paper; one of them, the smaller one, contains two velvet-lined jewelry boxes. one box contains a single, bright pink stud earring, clearly store-bought, and the other contains a black glass earring, clumsily made by his own hand and his own flame, melting rock into obsidian. the shape isn't perfect, and the hook isn't fully on, but a pair of pliers will tighten it up.
the other box contains another box inside of it, which, once opened, will reveal itself to be about twenty-some odd dvds: mostly for horror movies, but there are some odd, seemingly romantic choices mixed in there, along with at least five dvds of anime and anime movies.
the card is inside this box, tucked neatly among the cases. )
i don't know what it feels like to have someone not give up on me.
i don't care if you understand it, or if you don't, or if you think he was a good father, a good fucking hero, or if you look at my brother and think, "well, why didn't you just turn out this way?" instead of hurting people like he hurt me. there is not a day that goes by that i don't wonder if i'm still alive, if this is still really me, inside this body, and i'm so tired of being in it, so tired of the burden of his sins on my shoulders. i'm tired. i want it to be over. and i know you hate it, and i know you'll never see it the same way i do, and that's okay, for me.
you haven't given up on me. even when i pushed, even when i fucking failed, even when everything went to shit, here. you didn't let me lay down and die, and i didn't let you, either.
and it's weird, isn't it? that being in this place makes me wonder what it could have been like. that i can laugh and smile around you like i'm someone else. maybe i am. maybe you're the kind of person that can do that for someone.
i hate what you've done to me, on the inside. i have to say that, even if - even if writing it, i don't actually hate it. it feels good when you look at me, anyway, feels good when we fuck, feels good when you're there in the morning, when you say my name, when you're so fucking blown out that you want to laugh or cry or come but i won't let you do any of it.
i'm no hero, but i wish i could be that kind of good, for you. cause i'm selfish. cause i'm jealous. you know what i mean.
i just saw you, but i want to see you again. stupid, huh? well, whatever. burn this after you read it.
merry christmas, katsuki.
xx 燈矢
no subject
Date: 12/29/25 21:07 (UTC)sheets bunched around his legs and hips, he slots his fingers through mismatched folds and patchwork tape, pops garish wrapping paper free, and splays open the contents. heh, a rice cooker. impressive, sturdy, efficient. fuck, touya's unconsciously psychic. he needed a new one, since his is going on a year and a half now and showing its age. should tease him about this being the villain's way of wanting more meals cooked for him. tch, nothing hero related, nothing taunting. a simple, nice gift showing touya sees him as more than a loud-mouthed hero. all his life, he wanted people to look at him and see an amazing hero... but now he knows how damn important it is, a comfort and relief, to have someone look at him and see nothing more than him. damn, now each time he cooks with this, he'll think of touya. crispy's gonna get meal invites more often.
jewelry boxes? paper shed and lids cracked, he turns one about in his hand, quirking a brow as light gleams across its faceted rosy surface. pink. would it serve his ass right if he showed up wearing this in his tongue?! not gonna do that. it's undeniably pretty. the second one pauses him, fingers hovering over its obsidian shine. nothing from the store. no, this was handmade... touya's own flame and hands. imperfect, flawed, worked on... fucking outshines any piece of jewelry he's ever seen in the damn resort. yeah, a simple pliers grip tightens the hook and he trades out the cuff-like piece on his shell for this one. each little twitch of his head makes the dangling spire tap his skin, reminding him it's there. might take a bit to get used to its presence...
holy shit, did touya drop off his dvd library? he rummages across their spines like he's checking his letters, noting horror movie after horror, pulls a face at the potential romance (he's gonna make him watch one with him so they can both roll their eyes and squirm!), and smirks over those final anime boxes. dork. damn right he'll be kicking back and popcorning with them.
with everything set aside, he leans back in bed, hand cupped around one side of touya's card. giving his words his full attention as they drop into his chest. things they can't say to each other verbally. face to face, too many shields and expectations blocking their lips. somehow, texting and handwriting make it easier. was it the same for touyas it was for him? being able to write this instead of saying it? he curls his free fingers into the sheets, refusing to let himself jump online and respond these surged emotions. so much he wants to say, so much he bites back as his chest clenches and his throat dips despite himself. how can one man make him want to smirk and scream at the same time? to grab him by the collar and shake his shitty head off for being a fucking moron, yet simultaneously pull him in and kiss him until his lungs protest and there's no doubt between them he's accepted despite everything.
he's wondered what it could have been like as well... this all could've been the other way around. yet they laugh and smile together, he growls under touya's teasing, glows smug when he manages to needle the man in return. "what if" and "if only" swim across his mind as he rests his head on the pillow, free arm flopped overhead as the letter settles between his other hand and his beating chest. hate. don't hate. weird. wanted. good. bad. selfish. jealous.
aa. it's stupid. and yet, he refuses to give it up. refuses to give up on him. sorry, touya, but i can't burn your heart.
he'll be putting the card in his safe.]