Inspired by these gorgeous artworks by 'Taromonto' on instagram
Alarm bells pulsed over thudding footsteps, hundreds running, leaping, diving and clunking their way to danger clad in heavy armour.
The only thing lighting the night was raining fire as it poured down over the kingdom in blazing arrows. It was a brutal onslaught, hitting dry grass and hay that had been laid in a path so when ignited, it lit up the town like a volcano. Wild flames flickered from orange to red, sparking up building sides and collapsing roofs. Dozens ducked down, some screaming civilians barely making it in the chaos.
There was no point in hiding, as the town became a battle field seconds later. A sword struck a sword as a first, reckless villain penetrated the walls of the kingdom, stopped only by the blade of a single man. Just like that, everyone followed. Weapons locked together, clashing and striking together so hard, sparks were flying into the air. Into the night sky where a leaping figure bolted into view.
The king's ruby cape and a flash of moonlit skin was all that was visible in the aftermath of his strike. It blew in the wind as he flipped and spun, kicking blades and weapons back far, sending them clattering into the skulls of his opponents; between their eyes or into the sturdy hands of his comrades who cheered and fought back. The opponents were strong, but the battle saw civilians taking up bows arrows, emboldened by their trust that their king would lead them to victory.
Then the second assault of arrows came and there was twice as many as the first. It had been a trap - luring them out into the view, with the first intent to burn buildings and get people out into the open where they could be wiped out. The king saw this in a second, demanding they hurry back and ordering "Everyone to the castle!"
A frantic stampede of chaos followed. Thankfully with arrows raining the enemy soldiers weren't in pursuit. Some lives were lost but most sheltered under metal helmets and armour. It gave them enough time to get the masses pushing in, babies crying and the elderly struggling. Bakugou waited for them all, head devoid of armour and his long sword his only weapon. He slashed at arrows that tried to fall near him or his people with precision until at long last it was only him left.
He turned to hurry in, the man already starting to draw the doors to a close when a purring voice echoed out into the now empty space.
"Not so fast."
Red eyes narrowed, as if he felt the words fill with irritation. The king stood tall but did not meet the height of his opponent.
"Izuku Midoriya, Prince of the Mighty. Destroyer of kingdoms and slaughterer of royals across the world."
The man attacking them was well known for his crimes. His decree to banish the world of hierarchical order with blood and murder. He had already left a mark, destroying even the most happy and equal of kingdoms on his way to Bakugou's.
The villain of a man smiled back at him but the look was all darkness. The man was not to be trusted. With a castle behind them and the tall inner walls of stone yet penetrated, it was just Bakugou on this battle. His people, behind him, safe in hiding, merged with the shadows, looking out and waiting for his beckon.
He didn't give it, rolling his shoulders, keeping his cool.
"Your people resort to filthy tactics, the tactics of low scum and yet-"
The king walked from side to side, sword swaying and dragging on the floor with the loose flicks of his wrist. He felt the emerald eyes follow it, watching it with his guard fully up. He knew not to take King Bakugou lightly, but beside that, Bakugou hated that the greenette oozed of confidence.
"You have the audacity to face me as if you deserve the mercy of conversation."
The blond's eyes were all blood.
It was only Bakugou, one man alone before a wall against a hundred or more. Izuku stood at the centre of these soldiers, framed by poison coated blades and glowing, flaming arrows. They rippled up in little dances, all facing his way ready to strike.
Their king said with humour, magic-like eyes framed with black, painted with charcoal so they popped out and glowed lime green against the dramatic night.
"Why ask for mercy when we can take whatever we want easily by," He chuckled darkly, "Running this blade across your neck?"
Bakugou looked back unamused, biding time. Biding time. So the power high freak continued.
"Let's face it, we've already outsmarted you. Beat you."
Their eyes locked and it was a statement of provocation. He was playing on Bakugou's anger, the blond realised with a disgruntled growl. He thought he could rouse him into careless, by mentioning all the people Bakugou had failed to protect. By infuriating him-
"-By lighting up the dry grass around your precious kingdom so you have no escape route. You can't escape, but you can't stay locked up in your castle because we've poured the blood of your own into your water supply. Your people may try to drink it, they may also find themselves becoming ill and spreading plagues~!"
He chortled with bright darkness.
"You can't even protect your civilians because they're in there, but look! And yet their precious king is all alone out here-"
Suddenly the doors slammed shut from behind and Bakugou turned sharply, for a moment horrified that they had gotten inside. How had they even gotten behind him?! The answer was a shadow come to life - a beast who had crept behind him with dark tricks and spells. Bakugou's grip tightened on his sword and he jerked his foot sharply as an arrow was shot dauntingly at the floor near his foot.
Calm your rage, he thought. Calm it.
The gates to the kingdom were shut, soldiers inside screaming for worry as Bakugou became truly alone.
Instead of feeling fear, the king looked back, a haunting stare in the flames reflected in his eyes as he growled, "That's where you're wrong."
"Oh? Are you going to say something inspirational, something cheesy and romantic about the heart of your people winning because you'll live through them heheh~ I've heard it all before-"
Izuku's smile fell. Bakugou's lit in a pitiful, terrified smirk. When he spoke, it was in a whisper.
It took a moment of realisation to fall over the other's face, but by then the canon edges that were staring into their faces were already lit. Bakugou's ears blanked out, as brutal explosions of white light scorched up to the entire sky. Bodies vanished from the heat alone so fast all that was left was their armour. The quickest ducked but the blasts were so unforgiving even the earth shook, blinding everything white as Bakugou took for the castle and pressed against it flat, hands on his ears, eyes clenched shut, forces slamming his back into the hard rock again and again and again as relentless explosions from his people fired again and again.
They were explosions of his own creation, of his own plan and design as a final resort if something like this were ever to happen, and yet they were killing him. He could have opened the gate. He could have ran to safety and risked other following him too and putting his people in danger but he didn't.
KIng Bakugou stayed, even as pounding penetrated his head and every beat of his heart, merging him with explosions that almost sent him to his death. They burned through his cloak and struck against his skin, staining his white skin pink then purple then red.
His enemies screamed unable to flee, unable to see that the safest spots as they didn't know the town the way Bakugou did. It was no use.
That day, the life of a king was lost.
But it wasn't Bakugou's.
Cicadas chirped as the heat of another day of peace flew by. Bakugou, confined to lie still with rest looked like a tiny bird in such a vast space. It was open, stretching from one corner of the kingdom to another, with shrines, statues and sacred gods and goddesses carved in gold before him. He didn't look at this, cheek pressed chubby against the ornate oak wood table he was draped over. They'd dressed it in padded purple silks with gold hanging dimes to make it more comfortable for him. They'd added perfumes and spices to each candle pot on the shrine and burned incense every mile or so to keep the smell of the heavens.
Bakugou didn't care. He just wanted a change of location from the infirmary or his bed.
Sunlight streamed in unfiltered, the summer hot, as the damned hall had no walls. Only pillars. Of course, he was completely safe here. Guards were dotted around, the strongest guards in their lands and any neighbouring ones. Long, dry grass blew, swaying gently around him beyond the marble prison of his decadent home as the ornamental strips of ribbon from the ceiling danced above his body.
Occasionally, he felt them tickle him against the back, brushing his hair because although the roof stretched up high enough to rival the mountains sitting behind it, the hall was filled with heavy bronze bells, each suspended from concentric circles in a lullaby above his head. Today they were silent. War, long gone as the victory against Midoriya and the not so 'Mighty' ended after fifty long years, in their triumph.
Bakugou was the king who'd brought it about.
A saviour, a hero. One who neighbouring kings had sworn allegiance too and bowed to.
One the priests treasured as the descendent of a God.
The people worshipped their leader as if he were a saint, when in reality he was conflictingly closer to sin. Bakugou had always thought of violence and adventure, as they wrapping his wrists and ankles in gems, bathing him with bath salts from the farest islands of the south. Each shimmering speck of jewellery celebrating him was worth five hundred gold coins or more. They were gifts from Lords, Ladies, Princes, Queens and higher.
Bakugou didn't much care for it. What he did care for however, was being absolutely spoiled rotten in other ways. Usually he wasn't one for being coddled. Yes, he had been injured but if anything his survival proved that he was strong.
Still, he had no objections to the quiet server who tiptoed towards him on cleanly naked feet. He made no objection to the feeling of them straddling him. Caring fingers gently pulled the white fur trimmed red cloak off of his shoulders, sliding it down his back to cover his lower half, leaving his naked back open to the air.
Tired red eyes didn't waver in their concentration, or lack of. He lay, completely trusting and unbothered as warm fingers worked pleasant, honey scented pleasure into his muscles. They danced over his tight shoulders, the hands were rough but warm. Bakugou let them touch, let them serve him. They fixed all the sore, tensed muscles between, brushing his bandages and tracing over his burned, tingling wounds. It felt wonderful as they travelled lower, into the dips of his spine where his body exhaled in relief as they explored his back.
Then suddenly, they spiralled down and cupped around his lower back, pushing each finger in and touching a part of Bakugou's soul. Ohhh.
His body fell into the makeshift bed like a spilled goblet of dark, sensuous wine.
This masseur was good.
Trying to shift up, he felt the man above him panic, instantly startling and pushing him back down with firm but cautious hands.
"His majesty should stay flat and relaxed!" A male voice insisted with moderate panic. It was enough for Bakugou to shift so he was leaning his cheek on the soft flesh of his arm instead and fall back down obediently. It was nothing he hadn't heard before, medical advice that was common knowledge.
"What's your name?" He grumbled, voice every bit one that belonged to a king.
"Me? I'm no one your majesty. A nameless server, part of your hoards of many others here to make sure you're the most comfortable."
Even though his words were meek, the voice spoken with was loud and cheery, a certain energy to it Bakugou found his thoroughly trained servants often lacked.
"Well you're better than any other masseur I've come across," he muttered, leaving the man above him still. His thighs tensed up, strong but cautious. Not afraid to press all their weight on their king in his efforts but not forceful either.
"Eh?" He seemed to reconsider, Bakugou able to clearly hear the grin on the mysterious other's face.
"For reals? That's the highest praise from the most powerful man in all the lands of the earth, I thought you were going to be some arrogant King but I can see there's a lot more to you than that."
He was very clearly enthused. Bakugou could feel it as much as he felt it, as music played in the distant temple and hands continued working their way over his golden skin.
Bakugou may have objected in other circumstances, but as well as being tired, he found he rather enjoyed the bright tone of this man's voice.
He was so bored of quiet music and gentle breeze, false comforts and the sweet words of nurses. Bakugou wanted something real, something to wipe out the memory of screams and explosions pounding and ringing in his memory. With a blink, he was back to calm silence.
"Talk to me," he ordered.
"Talk to you?"
"Tell me why I sense fate whispering to me when your fingers touch my skin? Tell me why your hair smells so strongly of the mountain winds even in a hall that reeks of flavoured smoke and perfume," the spoiled king demanded.
He had every reason to be spoiled, adored by all with his physique that shamed statues and talent that rivalled all poets.
The male above him breathed a sigh, sucking in air as red eyes watched the birds fly, giving him the impression that the man above him had a well build chest.
"Well, I guess I could tell you the story of my home, your majesty," he offered cheerfully.
"Your home? Are you not born of the royal kingdom?" Bakugou bit with a touch of jealousy, peeved at the idea that someone so talented came from the outside.
"No," the male sighed, shifted his hips again and gathering more oil on his warm, calloused hands. When they touched down on Bakugou's shoulders again, spreading out to each bicep and curling around, they imitated the rise and fall of his voice.
"I come from a place beyond the mountains, somewhere so far the tallest mountain peaks are yet to see it. It's a place where the rock shards twist into waves like the ocean. It's a place where the crevices polish and glisten into man-sized gems and crystals, where dragons are said to soar the sky..."
More than certain this story was of culturally invented fantasy, he listened.
Bakugou could listen to this voice for hours. This melody, these words. They were a far cry from the dry politics of reality. From the grit of blood scented battle, grease stained armour and half burned town. The story was better than any fairy tale he'd ever heard. It spoke of peace; not the peace where he lay warm in the sun under the hands of an expert masseur, but a peace full of adventure.
The king, at rest and full of trust found his eyes drifting to sleep.
When they woke, the man was long gone. A mystery, though he could have sworn that before his closed eyes, he saw the swift blur of a body the vibrant hue of red.
He searched for him of course, back on his feet with heavy muscled weighing down on his summer sandals and a stick to aid his walking. He asked shrine maidens and server leaders who the man who massaged him that day was.
To his surprise he was met with confusion and a general lack of knowledge. At first it pissed him off. He expected so much more of his servers, so much more organisation to be able to know what the fuck was going on. Who was who, who came from where and who went to see their king at what time but no. Apparently that was too much to fucking ask. Apparently they couldn't find one man.
But the more people he asked, the clearer it became.
Something wasn't right here. Something wasn't adding up. Either he'd had a medicine induced hallucination - or Bakugou had encountered an intruder.
Someone had snuck in, unnoticed and unshaken and had gotten close enough to put their fingers on the sleeping king.
It made him shiver, not knowing what could have happened within that time. He woke up feeling fine of course, better, even. But he might not have woken up at all.
That very day security of the kingdom increased. Bakugou's one clue, the vague colour red and a voice.
Then, one day not long later at all, he heard it again. That voice he knew so well he could hear it laughing in his head blessed his ears again.
A Bakugou of the past might have lept towards it uncouth and untactical.
The man that stood, lurking beyond the bend of a wall that evening was no child. He played it smart, he stayed as quiet as the silent breaths of the kingdom at night remained. Not a sound hummed over the low voice at this starless time of day and Bakugou was glad for it.
He didn't even know why he was out of his chambers. He'd wondered out in search of the- in search of something. He didn't know what but suddenly he'd found the one thing he'd been needing for weeks.
The word resonated in his ears as he dared to step out and interrupt the pleasant conversation shared between the missing masseur and one of his closest, well known servers. Instantly, the colour red shone to Katsuki beyond the honey gold of Kaminari's hair.
"Men," He spoke, two heads turning to face him sharply.
"Your majesty!" They chimed in unison, darting down and bowing bent at the waist.
"At ease." He started, sandals clicking against the stone floor as he came closer. The sky was dark, the only light of the room from sunset torches at either side. They cast light on red hair, turning it almost ginger where the light hit it and maroon where it shadowed.
Bakugou's eyes were on the quiet male like a hawk, coming closer, not walking away.
Red hair, soft and long fell in spikes down between his brows and below his ears. What interested him most, was that unlike the other servant - the higher ranking servant - at his side, there was an ornate gold head rest draped over the new addition's head. It cast chains of gold over his eyes, shimmering disks reflecting candle light in dots of light. Between these their eyes met, blood red on red. The man didn't back down, though his eyes were brighter than any precious stone as they were vivid with some intent emotion.
Awe, appreciation, intrigue.
Between the gold masking his face, the man was still a mystery even before his eyes. Bakugou didn't stop until they were chest to chest. Kaminari's honey eyes were troubled with discomfort and awkwardness as he stood near, not knowing where to look or what to do with himself as the newbie was bullied by their king.
"Name." He ordered, though he didn't really care.
It was a test and the man knew it. His eyes didn't dart to his superior or show hesitation or blink.
That voice. It was all he needed.
"I knew it! It's you!" Bakugou declared, shoving the other's shoulder playfully with the huge grin of victory. "I knew I would find you and what happens when I give up?! Fate hands you to me."
His eyes were pure fire, an explosion of passion as if this boy was a firework of energy incarnate. Kirishima fed off of it, lighting up and shoving the king back with a grin.
"Fate huh! That sounds exciting!" He said back, shoving right back with a laugh. Kaminari's chin nearly dropped to the floor.
"Am- Am I missing something here!?" He asked, his voice high and his eyes almost bulging.
King Bakugou shot him a triumphant glare, "This servant has been hard to find for weeks. Why is that?"
"I uh- I- I don't know I guess because he just recently came to us!"
Bakugou didn't address what was wrong with that in front of Denki, perhaps because he wanted to force the truth our of the other for his ears alone.
"Not to mention he never sticks to our rules," Denki said in irritation. This caught the attention of the king, Kiri looking moderately betrayed before Bakugou considered this and grinned.
"Good. I like a rebellious person. The only one you will take orders from is me, got it?"
"Sure!" Kirishima exclaimed, looking way to happy with the situation, much to Denki's bitter irritation as his superior.
"I have a feeling we will get along."
"So do I," the redhead said, no shyness or submissive reserve in his eyes at all. Bakugo's smile fell to an intrigued smirk.
"Follow me, I could do with another of your massages."
The pair headed off, disappearing down the halls of the high palace until they were swallowed into the darkness.
Kaminari was left by the torch, brows furrowed and feet stamping down indignantly.
"Why don't I get rewarded from breaking rules?!"
"You joined the servants yesterday?"
"Then how did you get into my palace before?"
A pause fell between them, as if shocked that the red head would actually be so open as to admit that.
"You realist that's a punishable offense right? That I could have you sentenced to a whipping or imprisonment right now?"
"You won't." He chirped, more hopeful than confident. It was lucky for him, as if he'd been too cocky Bakugou would have had to knock him down.
"What are your intentions?"
When Kirishima answered, the two of them alone in the vast chambers of the king at the door, his head was tilted and his eyes brimming with a spectrum of emotions.
"To see the King."
"Well you've seen me." Bakugou spat abruptly, narrowing his eyes and folding his arms over his chest. Playing with the other, with his apparent enthusiasm and trying to dig a response out of him. "Now what?"
The other dropped to his knees and lowered his head, smile never falling from his face.
"To serve the King."
Bakugou liked that answer.
They lived in peaceful times. Times where Bakugou could befriend a servant like Kirishima and spend evenings with him when he wasn't busy with trivial courts and economic matters. He was a little annoyed though, as Kirishima remained mysterious as ever. Sometimes he didn't come at all, disappearing for days at a time.
The male never opened up the way he had the first time. He talked in riddles, in vague, odd ways and when the king pressed him into a corner and ordered the truth, he had a smile that could tempt nature itself to reconsider their wrath against him.
"Why are your teeth so fucking demonic?" He asked one day, the two of them alone in the library on the highest level.
Kirishima hadn't been expecting the question and he slammed his lips shut in an instant. It was cute - very uncommon to see the male without his characteristic smile.
"The traditions of my people," he answered concisely.
"You weren't born that way?"
"No, they were shaped."
"Not to hunt?"
"More for beauty."
"You think they're attractive?" He asked, a tone of mocking and intrigued mixed in one to Kirishima who was on defensive mode.
"I know they are."
Bakuou's eyes fell to his lips and back up. Kirishima swallowed.
"Then open your mouth and show me them."
The word 'what?' was in his eyes not his voice, they read Bakugou in seconds however and saw this as the challenge it was. Not one to back down, Kirishima parted his lips but didn't smile, allowing the King to inspect the inside of his orface.
Fingers traced his chin and tilted his head higher up. Kirishima wished he could look anywhere else, but his eyes were fixed on Bakugou and the view of his pale lashes as fingers pushed inside his mouth, caressing the side of a shard of his pure white teeth.
The taste of sweet human skin, even a trace of it fell to Kirishima's core as his eyes clenched shut before they could flash gold.
When Bakugou with drew silence was heavy. He felt the red eyes scan him, who stood with his eyes clenched shut and his mouth remaining open.
When his heart rate finally cooled down an eternity later, his eyes blinked open and found Bakugou giving him a smirk.
They lived in a time of peace.
No fear of attack, no hiding away. All because Bakugou had outsmarted the enemy king and lured him to their castle walls as a trap. It was because of this that celebration was due. A festival was being organised for the coming nights.
A festival to celebrate wealth and invite masses from all the towns in their kingdom. In preparation for this, hundreds had already arrived, filling the ins and promoting businesses. He saw them from the glass-less windows of his tower. People with flowers in their hair and lanterns in their hands dotted along the streets happily, singing, shopping and chatting together in a flow of coloured dresses and long hair.
It warmed his heart to see his people content, to feel the breathe of peace at the warmth in the air that everything would be okay. Bakugou turned away, craving something quiet. He walked along the pathways of the walls to the opposite side of the castle tower, the one that looked out to the dark, endless mountains.
There was no distinguishing between the line of the sky and the outstretched long grass fields. Bakugou started out at the darkness, resting his elbows on the wall and peering over, relaxed.
It was so dark he may as well be staring at the ocean.
He was all alone.
The giant castle filled with people, but huge enough that he could stand here and feel like the only man in the world.
Not even the hum of living people could be heard from this distance. Only King Bakugou was here and Kirishima was late.
It was at this very thought, that the winds changed.
A blond head turned sharply, tilting up to the dark sky with enhanced pupils in search of what had fluttered against his instincts. The breeze whirred right so Bakugou's head followed right. It was darkness, impossible to see. Hard to make sense of why at over a hundred metres up his gut was trembling with a sense that something was watching him.
He looked over both shoulders before he looked back.
Suddenly, the darkness before him wasn't so dark.
It was moving.
It was fluttering - sending bursts of wind and gust of breath until sudenly the darkness parted and two gold spheres were floating before him.
Bakugou tilted his head, looking at the large spheres or mysterious magic, floating and swirling and almost as big as his fist. They were hypnotic, drawing the King in as if as much as he was looking at them, they were looking at-
They were eyes.
Dark slits revealed and talon like teeth the size of knives pointed out as Bakugou roared, "SOUND THE ALARMS!"
His explosions fired off into the sky in warning but the creature flipped and spun - vanishing from his sight and venturing so far he almost fell off the tower to his death in an attempt to reach it. That second the thunderous pounding of the bronze bells pounded, screams from the village hitting his ears with dread. He bolted, running along the mile long strip of wall until soldiers of the Kingdom rushed to his side for information.
"A flying beast is circling out kingdom! Send orders for every civiliian to get indoors and evacuate the town!"
The soldier wasted no time in flipping over the edge of the building, sliding down on a rope and yelling orders to the second level who were waiting below. With the other two, Bakugou grit his fists and with much reluctance declared, "We're in a state of lock down, gather the weapons and a net to trap it."
He didn't want to bring out the weapons; the canons and explosions that had reduced many of their buildings to rubble, destroying their opponents yet traumatising their people. He'd locked them away with the illusion of peace but things didn't appear to be looking so good.
Bakugou would have to kill the thing before it killed one of them.
But they didn't find that creature that night.
Or the night after that.
Or the night after that.
It was silly to think they'd find a creature in a night so dark. It owned the darkness, darkness was it's home, a creature of the shadows like the one Izuku had used against him. Perhaps it was the same one. Could creatures of that like survive explosions humans could not?
Fire torches could only do so little when searching a night that outnumbered them. Bakugou was in a state of unease, one that even Kirishima couldn't undo as he sat behind the male two evening later, with his hands working on his KIng's large shoulders.
"Well... maybe it's not here to hurt anyone. Maybe we shouldn't assume it's evil just because it's different."
"And risk the injury of our kind?" Red eyes narrowed but stayed looking straight ahead. "You're talking as a hopeful individual, not a king responsible for the lives of many."
"But come on, if it wanted to kill someone, don't you think it would have already?"
"We don't know that. It could have been threatened by the noise or fucking light or some shit. How are we to know? When it came to me it was in the quietest side of the castle. It could very well be a creature that looks for victims and quiet corners and shadows."
"Then why didn't it take you?"
"Why didn't it take you? If it was looking for easy prey then you were alone so why are you still alive-"
"Say that again."
"That you're still alive! You're overreacting so much because you're scared but this creature could be just as scared as you are! It could have taken you if it wanted so the fact that it didn't shows that it's not-"
At this Bakugou slapped his hands away in a fit of rage.
"GET OUT! You have no fucking right to call me, your king weak!"
"But I wasn't-!"
It was no use. Bakugou was an explosion of chaotic rage, forcing Kirishima back out in the cold of night to his plain quarters downstairs. His chest puffed with anger, voice bellowing and eyes sharp until the male sighed and bowed low before walking away.
His head fell in a similar way to a scolded puppy. Bakugou's heart twitched at the sight, warming with something that reminded him of guilt, but he trampled this feeling and put it away for good. He was a king. He had no position for people who doubted him and looked down on him. Even if they were Kirishima.