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Chapter Text

“Okay, okay – okay, you can do this. You’ve got this. Just don’t throw up like you did at that last casting.” 

That one was bad. We don’t talk about that one. 

Izuku knows he’s rambling, mumbling to himself. It’s a habit even his acting and vocal coaches can’t help him break. He’s also pacing, back and forth, forth and back, wearing tracks into the carpet. And in the small waiting room, it’s drawing some attention.

Feather-light, a hand rests on his shoulder. Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Hey, dude, you’re gonna be fine,” a bright voice says. “If you’ve made it this far they’re clearly interested. Who you auditioning for?”

Izuku looks up – he’s not short, everyone else is just tall – and meets red eyes, black hair, a kind face. 

“Uh, Midoriya.”

Midoriya, hero name Deku. Sixteen, courageous, the protagonist. 

“Oh cool, the main man!” he smiles, and Izuku finds himself grinning back. “My name is Eijirou, I’m auditioning for Bakugou!” 

Bakugou, hero name Dynamight. Sixteen, kind, the supporting main character, Deku’s best friend since childhood. 

From what Izuku has read of the manuscript and the paneling of the first few episodes, Eijirou seems to be perfect for the wholesome, slightly dorky character of Bakugou. He can see him already in the prim and proper sweater vests dedicated to his mock ups.

“I hope you get the part,” Izuku says. “Are you nervous?”

Eijirou just keeps smiling. Izuku thinks he could go blind from it. So bright. 

“No way, man! We’ve already gone through two auditions. I think this is kinda it. Like, they want all of us, now we just need to be placed, ya know?”

Izuku doesn’t know. He’s never made it this far in a casting.

Eijirou gestures over to a corner of the room. “A few of those guys wanna be Midoriya, but I’m rootin’ for you!”

Izuku would look over, but he’s distracted by a voice calling:

“Izuku? We’re ready when you are.”

Gulp. 

Eijirou winks at him, and throws him a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this! Can’t wait for you to be the Deku to my Dynamight!” 

~~~

The audition room looks more like a dance studio; rectangular, bright with white walls and a heck ton of mirrors that show Izuku all of his bad angles. 

There’s a plastic folding table up front. Six people sit on one side, staring at him. 

Izuku feels like stepping out of his own body to escape. Why does he want to be an actor again? Someone explain. 

“H-Hi,” he manages with a short wave. “It’s a pleasure to see you all again.”

The woman in the middle smiles, all professionalism and cool detachment. 

“It’s a pleasure to see you as well, Izuku,” she shuffles some papers in front of her, tapping them to even out the edges. She sighs before pushing her glasses back up her nose to better look at him.

“I’ll be frank. We weren't interested in you for the role of Midoriya at first. Not only are you a bit... shy, you’re also clearly new to the industry, and it’s concerning we have no frame of reference for your past works.”

Do not throw up –

"However,” she smiles, “the producers recently switched up the dynamic between Midoriya and Bakugou and we think you and another person who auditioned would be perfect. We would like to do a combined reading today.”

It’s like an elephant has been removed from his chest. Izuku smiles. “O-Okay!”

He wants to wince at the stutter, but freezes when a man to the left of the table smiles and breathes, “He’s perfect.”

Huh?

“Katsuki,” the woman says, “you’re on. Boys, here are the new manuscripts. Turn to page thirty, you’re starting there.”

Izuku takes the thick stack of pages from her hand.

New? His nerves begin to pile up, one on top of the other. Izuku is a practice-makes-perfect kinda guy, not a wing-it kinda guy. Oof. Today is not his day.

He shakes his head to clear it. Page thirty, page thirty… Oh. Oh shit. Okay. 

“Yo. You gonna be my Deku?”

If voices had colors assigned to them, this voice would be deep blood red. It’s low and full of gravel – it makes Izuku want to blush. 

And blush he freaking does, because right there, standing like the Greek God of debauchery and lustful thoughts, is a blond boy with – of course – blood red eyes.

It takes a moment for Izuku to remember how talking works. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m - yup. Deku!”

He blinks when the other boy (Kats…Kattan…Katsoko?) smirks. Izuku waves his hands frantically and backtracks. “I’m so sorry, that was so cocky of me. I mean I hope I get to be your Deku! Wait wait wait, not your Deku just Deku! Midoriya! The character!” 

Katsuchan – heckin’ frick Izuku is bad with names – starts to cackle like a melodramatic villain. It’s not hot. It isn't. Nope. 

Izuku hides his reddening face in his hands. “Nooo I’m so sorrryyyyy stopppp –”

Then there’s applause from the casting crew.

Izuku parts his ring and pinky fingers to look over at them, only to find six smiles and lots of notes being taken. Apparently, they’re happy with Izuku making a complete and total fool of himself in front of the hottest man alive.

“They’re exactly what Horitoko wants,” he hears someone whisper. 

“A match made in heaven,” another muses.

Laughter, “Or hell.”

The casting director clears her throat to get them back on track. “I’m going to play the part of the classroom teacher to prompt you two. You’ll start once I do. And this time, don’t play the roles as if you’re the character. Play it as yourselves. ‘Kay?”

Izuku nods, and Mr. Blond Perfecfion shrugs.  

The room stills. Deep breaths, in and out, you’ve trained for this.  

“I would hand out these future career forms,” she says, “but I assume you all want to be heroes!”

The last syllable hasn’t fully rolled off her tongue before Ka– Kacchan spins on Izuku. He takes a slow step forward, languid and fluid like a jungle cat. His eyes slant, the smirk that curls up the side of his face is enchanting and haunting at the same time.

“You’re also going for UA, aren't you, Midoriya?” He starts the scene. “Come on Deku!”

He takes another step forward, now crowding Izuku. But Izuku is supposed to be the hero here, the protagonist, so he doesn’t step away. He does, however, curl his shoulders in a bit. He knows Kacchan is just acting, but… 

“You’re totally quirkless and you think you can rub shoulders with me?!”

...but he sounds mean - cruel. Looks seriously like a villain. How could the casting crew go from searching for someone like Eijirou to play Bakugou to this polar opposite? 

Izuku scrunches his brows together, jerks his chin up in an attempt at defiance.

“What? What, no, Bakugou –”

Shove.

Izuku stumbles back, turns his head to look at his shoulder where Kacchan just pushed him.

“You wanna be a hero so bad?” Kacchan swoops in so they’re nose to nose. Izuku holds his breath. “I’ve got a time saving idea for you. Pray for a quirk in your next life and go take a swan dive… off the…”  

“Holy fucking shit,” Kacchan stands up straight. He turns to the casting director, brows raised. “Is this for real? This is brutal. Isn’t MHA a kids show?”

“Yeah,” Izuku seconds, rubbing at his neck. “I mean, Bakugou and Midoriya are friends, right? Isn’t suicide baiting something you don’t really want to show as redeemable?” 

His eyes scan what comes next further down the page. “Oh my – and I’m supposed to say that I’m more concerned what he said might ruin his future hero career? We’re just gonna mosey on over the whole go kill yourself thing?”

Kacchan crosses his arms and shifts so he’s shoulder to shoulder with Izuku. A united front. 

“I’ll play the bully if that’s what you want, that’s fine,” he lifts the manuscript and shakes it. “But I don’t like this. Won’t say it,” he gestures to Izuku. “‘Especially not to that cute baby face.”  

Oh my gods, cute? He thinks I’m cute?!

“How ‘bout I tell him to just pray for a superpower in his next life? There’s no reason to include the roof thing unless there’s a big Bakugou Saves Midoriya From Jumping moment for a full circle theme, and from what I know, there isn't. So, yeah. It’s dumb.”

“I agree, the bullying already shown is more than enough to demonstrate Bakugou's character development later on if you plan on redeeming him,” Izuku speaks as confidently as he can. “But, uh, It’s a quirk, not a superpower,” Izuku whispers the last part to Kacchan. 

Kacchan side-eyes him. “You’re a little nerd, aren't ya?”

Izuku almost laughs. 

Silence from the peanuts. 

Well, they just blew their chances. Darn. At least Izuku got to meet a real life God – 

“Rehearsals start next week – you've both got the roles.” 

The sound of paper hitting the floor. Izuku’s manuscript has slipped from his fingers.

“Really?”

The casting director nods, all serious now. “You two have more chemistry than some love interests I’ve worked with. It’s there, I can sense it though I can’t describe it quite yet,” her eyes dart between them and Izuku feels self-conscious. 

“Also, the fact that you instinctually stood by one another to voice your opinion on a part of the script we really weren’t sure about ourselves? I speak for all of us when I say you’re the Wonder Duo we are looking for.”

Kacchan scoffs. “Of course we are.”

He glances at Izuku sidelong again. His lips kick up on one side. 

“After all, this idiot is already my Deku.”

Is it normal to have heart palpitations at the age of seventeen? Is it normal to play a sixteen year old when you aren't sixteen? Is Kacchan sixteen? No way, he has to be eighteen, he’s –

“I am eighteen you rambling weirdo. And who the fuck is Kacchan?”

He did it again. Great. Isn’t this just the cherry on top of the embarrassment cake he’s baked from scratch today.

Mind off in la la land, he points at Kacchan. 

“You’re Kacchan, Kacchan.”

“No, dumbass, I’m Katsuki.”

Izuku decides to just full send. “Nuh uh. Kacchan.”

“Katsuki. Say it with me. Kat-su-ki. Katsuki. Ain’t hard.”

At this point, Izuku is trying so hard not to crack up and fall apart. He’s failing. A laugh slips as he once again says, “Kacchan.”

He knows the casting crew is watching with rapt fascination – he doesn’t really mind. Not since Kacchan has the sweetest pink blush crawling over his razor-sharp cheekbones. The juxtaposition is mesmerizing. 

He pouts, and it’s unfairly pretty. “Tch. Whatever. You can call me Kacchan but only because we’re gonna be stuck together for however long this shit is popular.”

For the first time today, Izuku smiles and really truly means it. “I can’t wait to work with you, Bakugou Dynamight Katsuki Kacchan!” 

“Oi, you just said it! You can totally say my name!”

“Huh? Did you say something Kacchan?”

“Gonna fuckin’ kill you. Gonna make it painful.”

“Okay, Kacchan. Sounds good, Kacchan.”

It’s only when the door has closed behind them that the crew begins to speak, voices and conversations overlapping.

“We’ve created a monster –”

“A perfect monster. They’re made for these roles.”

“You know the public is going to go wild for them. We may need to rethink having Midoriya end up with Uraraka. The shipping wars –”

“No no no, Dynamight and Deku are platonic soulmates! And heck, those two might just be in real life.”

“I swear to the gods history hates lovers, you’re all oblivious.”

“Huh?”

“I almost yelled kiss already when they got all close during the reading.”

“Dude… They’re teenagers. That’s real suspect of you.”

“I need a new job.”

~~~

They’ve dyed his hair. 

It’s no longer just black but black with chunks and highlights of green that match his eyes. It’s cool – he’s fine with it. Izuku is also happy they don't plan on covering up his freckles like his agent said they would.

Small wins. 

Izuku works out and is a bit bummed they have him in loose-fitting clothing for the first few episodes. He understands it’s meant to show his character development over time, but do the other guys in the cast really have to look so good all the time while he looks like a sack of discount Potato Heads?

Izuku was thrilled on the first day to see Eijirou had been offered a major role. He’s playing Kirishima, a kid with a hardening quirk.

“They messed with your hair, too?”

Eijirou, now a redhead, turns from where he’s reading over his script. His eyes light right on up when he sees Izuku. 

“Izuku! Man, I’m so happy to see someone I know!” He wraps an arm over Izuku’s shoulders. “So you’re our Midoriya! I’m sad I don’t get to be your ex-bestie turned rival, but I heard you really clicked with the dude they chose.”

“Aha, yeah –”

And like a real life Shoujo manga, Izuku is ripped out from under Eijirou’s arm, only for it to be replaced by another. 

“That’d be me. And this would be my Deku.” 

Izuku sneaks a peak up and over, and sure enough, he’s met with red eyes and blond hair and muscles under so much showing skin because he's in a freaking tank top and Izuku is so down bad gay.

Kacchan has his eyes narrowed as he evaluates Eijirou. “Which side character are you?”

Eijirou frowns. “Uh, dude, other than Izuku we’re all side characters.”

“Nope,” Kacchan runs his tongue over his teeth and it's, wow, really hot. “I’m the catalyst of his entire story. Without me, he doesn’t meet All Might, never gets One for All. The show might as well be called My Hero Where Two Boys Dance Around One Another For Seven Seasons And Are Stuck In The Closet Academia.”

“Hey, you really did your homework, huh? Last time you were still calling quirks superpowers.”

“This conversation doesn't concern you, Deku.”

“But… it does?”

“Hush, the adults are talking.”

“Kacchan that’s mean.”

Eijirou cautiously looks between them but he seems amused. “Um, I gotta ask, did you two know one another before this?”

In unison: “Nope.”

“Okay then,” Eijirou focuses on Kacchan. “Are you in character right now? Like channeling Bakugou? Or is this… just how you are?”

Kacchan stands a bit straighter, smirks that slash of a manic grin that Izuku is coming to realize is his trademark look.

…it’s a nice look…

“This is all me. The producers actually adjusted shit so Deku and I can act like ourselves. Something about it coming off as natural on camera.”

Izuku sidesteps out of his hold. Kacchan glares at him. Izuku shrugs. It’s not like he doesn’t want to be squashed to a side of one hundred percent pure muscle, it’s just that he literally cannot focus on forming sentences when he is. 

“You can call me Izuku, ya know.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say Deku.”

“This is gonna be A Thing, isn't it?”

“Stop calling me Kacchan.”

“Never.”

Kacchan crosses his arms over his chest, tries to look intimidating. But the glint in his eyes is verging on fond. “Then you’re Deku.”

“Gosh,” Eijirou breathes, “you two really were made for this.”

“Haah?”

“What was that, Eijirou?”

“Nothing.”

A boy with hair split red and white right down the middle passes by, likely on his way out of hair and makeup. 

“Hey!” Izuku calls to him. “You must be playing Todoroki! You’re my best friend!”

Kacchan makes a sound deep in his throat. 

The boy looks at them, and his eyes are a wild vivid blue. “I am,” he smiles, wide and happy. “I was in there while they were putting the green in your hair. I’m so jealous you naturally have the eye color they want, I’m going to have to put in a grey contact and wow that isn't going to be comfy. I also am going to have to spend like thirty minutes a day while they apply that fake scar and gosh is that going to be annoying when I get sweaty under the stage lights. Do you think we’re going to be filming outside a lot? I really hope –”

Izuku steps forward to grip his arm. He’s a rambler. 

Like calls to like.

“We,” Izuku says, “are going to get along so well.”

Kacchan seethes. 

~~~

Izuku feels like he’s flying, and in a way, he is.

The harness squeezes tight against his middle and thighs as he’s hoisted across the center of the set for the USJ, straight toward the stunt double for All Might. 

He’s about to do his thing when the director calls:

“Cut!” 

The trolly above view stops, and the sudden halt has Izuku swinging in the air like a wrecking ball sans Miley. It makes the air in his lungs puff out all at once.

“Katsuki,” the director yells, “I am not going to tell you again, you cannot enter the scene early!”

Kacchan throws up his hands. Gosh, he looks good in his Dynamight costume. 

“Deku shouldn’t do dangerous things without me! I’m his Dynamight!” 

“Yeah, you are, you always remind us. But let me remind you that you’ll have your moments, okay? Let our main character have his.”

Kacchan sighs so loud Izuku swears it echoes. “Fine. Whatever. But tell the movement team to lighten up on the trolly. You’re gonna bruise the shit outta him with how tight that harness is.”

Still swinging in the air, Izuku manages, “Thank you, Kacchan.”

“You’re welcome, nerd.”

The same thing happens a few days later when they’re filming the scene with Stain, the Hero Killer. 

“CUT - these freaking kids - Katsuki, for the love of - you aren’t even supposed to be here today!”

“STOP! PUTTING DEKU! IN DANGER!”

“IT’S IN THE SCRIPT?! IZUKU IS FINE?! NOTHING’S REAL?”

“...whatever.”

Shouto stands from where he’s leaning against the mock brick wall, fake blood running down his arm. Those knives in him look just a little too real. Creepy.

“Hey, Katsuki!” He chirps. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ve got Izuku all safe and sound.”

“I literally don’t like you.”

“It’s so admirable, you being in character even on your days off!”

Izuku (who is once again mid-air because his character just has to parkour everywhere) sighs. The harness flips. Blood rushes into his head. Izuku just lets it happen at this point. 

“And what did I tell you losers about the harness?!” Kacchan stomps over to stand underneath Izuku – who is still about six feet above his head – and makes grabby hands up at him. “Deku up there lookin’ like a fucking ragdoll.”

“Kacchan, I’m okay.”

Red eyes snap to the crew. “My agent can and will press charges if you hurt him. If I find a single bruise from that damn ill-fitted get-up –”

Everything goes a bit still. Shouto gasps and claps his hands together. Tenya looks up from where he’s basically playing dead. 

“Katsuki,” the director says slowly, so carefully. “Why would you see bruises in the places the harness hits Izuku?”

Izuku covers his face and groans. He likes Kacchan so much it physically hurts sometimes, and the comments he makes, his possessive nature, really doesn’t help. 

But Kacchan, calm cool cucumber and collected as always, only shrugs. “You all forget we have multiple scenes changing in the locker room?” Then, softer, “For gods knows what reason since in the show we’re all underage and it feels a bit like The Vampire Diaries all over again sexualizing teenagers…Some Teen Wolf shit…”

From above, Izuku chimes in, “Team Stefan or Team Damon?”

“Team Damon, what the fuck?”

Down the alley, Shouto cries out, “Never! Stefan and Elena are soulmates! Damon stole his brothers girlfriend!”

Tenya sits up, criss-cross-apple slices. “I have to agree with Shou. It’d be like Todoroki’s brother, Dabi, sweeping in to take Midoriya away from him.”

Kacchan frowns. “Haah? If Midoriya has a love interest it's fucking Bakugou. The tension.”

“Well, after the commercials for the show aired, fans already started to say they like the idea of Todoroki and Midoriya. What are they calling it again, Shou?”

Shouto grins a sly grin. “TodoDeku.”

Kacchan’s eye twitches. “They sayin’ this shit on Twitter?”

Still up above, still upside down, still swaying, Izuku whispers, “Please don’t make a Twitter, Kacchan.”

His pleas go unheard.

~~~

Katsuki @DekusKacchan 

If you plan to watch the upcoming show #MHA and ship TodoDeku you’re freaking dumb. Clearly, Bakugou and Deku are better. #BakuDeku #bkdk #TodorokiSucks

Replies 

My Hero Academia! @BNHAOfficial 

A happy warm welcome to Twitter to our very own Dynamight! If you’re a fan of #TodoDeku or #BakuDeku or #AnythingDeku – please remember to tune in next week for our pilot episode! #MHA #PlusUltra

Direct message from @BNHAOfficial to @DekusKacchan 

For the love of whatever god controls you feral children, please stop tweeting your personal opinions about the show, we talked about this kinda thing when you were cast.

Direct message from @DekusKacchan to @BNHAOfficial 

Get bent. 

Direct message from @BNHAOfficial to @DekusKacchan    

Want us to screenshot this and send it to Izuku? We will. Don’t try us, kid.

Direct message from @DekusKacchan to @BNHAOfficial  

jfc fine but I want a raise for season two

engagement rings are expensive 

Direct message from @BNHAOfficial to @DekusKacchan 

Katsuki please 

~~~

The cast members for Class 1-A are all put up in a large Airbnb near set. It’s massive, modern, screams expensive and classy and the teenagers set wild inside playact like they’re the Kardashians kicking back in Calabasas. 

One big, wild, dramatic family. They put their hero names on their doors like kids at summer camp. They laugh together at dinner and whine together when they need to be up early for hair and makeup. 

Tenya makes sure they’re in bed on time. Shouto likes to play pranks. Denki brought too many books (his favorite is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte) and misplaces them around the house. Ochako practically lives in the backyard pool with Asui. Mina leaves little chips of missed pink body paint on all of the furniture. 

Momo is mom and she is beloved, very similar to her character, Yaoyorozu. She’s busy fixing the green in Izuku’s hair when Kacchan vaults himself over one of the couches in the giant living room. 

“Hey losers,” he calls, his voice cutting through other post-dinner conversations. “The pilot episode airs in fifteen. Get your asses over here.”

Everyone scrambles for a good spot. Momo stays sat on the couch. Izuku doesn’t budge from his place on the floor in front of her. Kacchan rests beside Izuku, kicking his legs up and over his thighs. Their skinship is nothing new, but Izuku feels all light and butterfly-y anyways. 

“Hey.”

Izuku breathes him in. Bodywash and expensive cologne. His little crush on his co-star may or may not be a full-blown obsession at this point. It’s been a month of them acting together, living together, of Kacchan calling Izuku his Deku. Izuku feels ready to implode. 

Shouto tells Izuku to just ask him out. 

Izuku tells him people like Kacchan don’t date people like Izuku.

Shouto reminds Izuku he’s literally the star of one of the most anticipated shows of the year. 

Izuku says semantics. 

“Holy hell, holy hell,” Eijirou pants from the loveseat where he’s leaning into Hitoshi. “It’s starting guys!” 

“The intro is such a banger,” Kyouka smiles. 

“We all look so badass!” Ochako cheers. 

And then Izuku is watching himself on TV after being turned away at so many castings, with his fist in the air talking about being the greatest hero, and he looks cool and he actually made it and oh no is he crying? He’s crying.

A hand – Kacchan’s hand – slides into his. Their fingers mesh together, easy peasy squeezy lemons. Natural. 

The lights are off, so it’s dull in the dark, but Izuku looks to the side and notices Kacchan’s small smile. 

“Crybaby,” he says softly, just for Izuku. “You’re cute as hell in this episode.”

Izuku has never felt happy like this. Carefully, like he could drop this moment and shatter it into a million pieces, he takes his time to lean over and rest his head on Kacchan’s shoulder. 

“You look like a spoiled brat. Look at that sneer on your face, Kacchan.”

“I take it all back. You deserved to be bullied.”

“Hey!”

From above, Momo laughs. 

No one tells them to hush. After all, it is their episode – their origin story. BakuDeku Rising. 

Their beginning.

Chapter Text

Hanta and Eijirou introduced Denki to the TV franchise Bad Girls Club, and the house has descended into the sixth circle of Hell.

“I ain’t get no sleep cause of yall,” he scream-sings as he races down a hallway, beating a metal pot with a wooden spoon. “Ya’ll not gon’ get no sleep 'cause of me!”

It’s only seconds later that Kacchan is holding a stack of Denki’s books over a somehow already-filled bathtub on the third floor. When did he find the time to add the bubbling, purple glitter bath bomb? Who’s is it? A mystery. 

Wielding the wooden spoon like a sword, Denki points it at Kacchan, eyes wide. 

“Drop the Hemingway,” he says, oh so serious. 

Behind him, in the doorway, Ochako and Tenya and Hitoshi record it all, heads piled up on one another as they peer in like meerkats. 

Kacchan’s manic smile slants. He is so handsome it’s actually unfair. Izuku’s stomach swoops. It should be problematic that he’s attracted to this. 

“Awful choice of words, Dunce Face.” His grip on the stack loosens. The tower of books sways recklessly. Izuku can hear Denki gulp.

Now, Denki is big on BookTok, and even from across the giant marble bathroom Izuku can see the tabs and sticky notes from annotating peeking out from the pages Denki clearly adores to escape into. He knows Denki takes painstaking notes as he reads, records it to post and bless people's fyp with his analysis and reading recs. 

He’s the smartest, wildest of them all, really.

It’s what possesses Izuku to take a step forward and say, in his best, most scolding voice, even though Denki woke them all up and kind of deserves it,

“Katsuki.”

Like a puppet with the strings cut Kacchan immediately relaxes. His knees, bent as he looms over the lip of the tub, extend. His shoulders lower, his face smooths out. 

“Deku?” his voice is small when he says it, a kid caught breaking the rules, like he didn’t know Izuku was there watching. 

“Give Denks his books back, please, Katsuki.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

Denki’s mouth pops open as Kacchan gracefully hops from the tub, down to the floor and simply hands over his reading material. Without waiting he strides over to Izuku, looking down at him cautiously.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he says.

Izuku smiles. “I’m not.”

Kacchan pouts. “Then…” He looks away, to the side, and Izuku thinks he might be blushing. Just a bit. “Why aren’t you calling me Kacchan?”

Ochako is wheezing. Tenya giggles.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku says, and Katsuki instantly looks happier. “I’m proud of you for calming down and giving Denki his books back.”

If Kacchan had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

Things are looking up until Hitoshi coughs and mutters, “Simp,” under his breath.

The MHA cast house sinks lower into the seventh circle of Hell as Kacchan chases Hitoshi, all the way out into the backyard where he unceremoniously shoves him into the pool.

~~~

Eijirou and Shouto are arguing over who is better live – Stray Kids or ENHYPEN (for Izuku at least, it’s obvious because, um, Felix, hello?) when it happens for the first time. 

They’re at the local grocery store at half past nine at night, ice cream shopping for the entire house. Izuku is in ratty sweats from his failed attempt at joining his high schools track team before he transitioned to all-online; Shouto has his hair in plastic butterfly clips; Eijirou is in fuzzy unicorn slippers, plush horns on their fluffy heads and everything.

“Can’t we like them both?” Izuku asks, looking back and forth between pints of chocolate and double super chocolate before putting them both in the cart.

“No, you have to choose. Also, that’s cold,” Eijirou complains when the frosted-over container touches his bare ankle. The black roots of his hair are beginning to show. Izuku must remember to ask Momo to help him fix it back to a perfect firetruck red.

“You could get out of the cart, you know,” Shouto points out from where he’s drawing smiley faces on the glass freezer doors. His dye job is still perfect, because, well it’s Shouto he’s talking about here.

“Let me have a normal childhood experience.”

“Lemme guess.” The smiley Shouto is working on looks more like a scowl. “Parents had you in acting classes early, then you starred in some local kids' show so they thought you’d made it big and you couldn't do anything fun because of it?”

Eijirou blinks. “Uh, yeah, like, to a T.”

“Sucks. Same,” Shouto says. 

Izuku tosses in more flavors, ignoring Eijirou’s complaints. “Shou, if Ei wants to be a cart baby, let him.”

Eijirou winks up at him. “Thanks, cart Daddy.”

Izuku and Shouto groan simultaneously, but it’s all in good fun. 

“Oh – oh holy shit,” someone gasps.

Surprised to hear other voices in the freezer aisle they’ve taken to lording over, Izuku jumps a bit at the intrusion. 

A couple stands ten feet away, hands clasped, a shopping basket full of odds and ends between them. The girl’s eyes are wide, her jaw slack as she blatantly stares at them.

“Uh,” Shouto starts. “Sorry. Did you need ice cream? We can move.”

The girl waves her hands in front of her. “Oh! No, no, we’re fine! Just looking for fish sticks, but uh, didn’t expect to find celebrities!” 

Izuku will never admit it, but he turns his head one hundred and eighty degrees like a spooked owl to see who is lurking behind them. 

Empty – as the store should be fifteen minutes from closing. 

Ah. Holy heck. She means them, doesn't she?

Still in the cart, Eijirou smiles a slow smile. “Are you a fan of MHA?” 

She nods. “Yes! My boyfriend and I have watched the first two episodes together twice! ”

The boy smiles kindly, but he looks at her instead of at them, clearly not as star-struck.

“You just have a crush on the girl that plays Uraraka,” he teases her.

The girl flushes pink. “You do too!”

“Eh.” His eyes slide to Izuku. “Green is more my color.”

Now it’s Izuku’s turn to blush. “Ahh thank you! I mean – for watching the show!” 

He reaches into the freezer blindly for one last tub of ice cream, ignores the small whine of protest from Eijirou when he chucks it into the cart and it thuds against some part of him. “We hope you’ll continue to support us!”

A few awkward photos later and they’re in self check out, ignoring the number that racks up. It’s all going on the shiny black card their manager provided for living expenses anyways. 

“I cannot wait to tell Katsuki some random hit on you, Izuku,” Eijirou says, swinging one of their grocery bags as they wait out front for the Uber Shouto called. 

“Please do that while I am in the room,” Shouto smirks. “Maybe it will finally convince him to put an official label on them, put Izu on lockdown.”

Izuku crosses the fingers of the hand not holding grocery bags. “Here’s to hoping.”

~~~

They tell Kacchan about The Store Incident the moment they get home. 

Kacchan looks Izuku up and down from head to toe, squints a bit, leans forward, and licks him from chin to hairline.

“There,” he says casually, ignoring the way everyone in the living room has frozen solid in order to stare. He goes back to tap tap taping on his phone. “Mine.”

Izuku goes to bed, shoves his face into his pillow, and screams. 

~~~

“It’s your power! Isn’t it?”

They have one shot to get it right. The producers said the set explosion for this scene is too costly to mess up. Izuku yells his lines, and across from him, Shouto, half covered in green fabric, smiles determinedly as he pretends he’s caught fire.

Shouto – Todoroki, gives him a wide-eyed, near-crazed look.

“Thank you, Midoriya,” he says.

Their arms lift in tandem, and, like an awful old friend, the harness around Izuku raises and pulls, and he’s flying through the air toward his opponent. 

Sometimes, Izuku wishes he’d auditioned for a role where he doesn’t always have hips turned black and blue from where these damn leather straps yank against his skin. 

The set explodes.

Light flashes behind his eyelids, now squeezed shut. 

Izuku is tossed back like a rag doll, and he is so happy he declined to have a stunt double for this because, wow, what a rush. 

Kacchan, on the other hand – 

“DEKU,” he’s yelling, cursing at the stagehands who try to stop him as he marches over to where Izuku is playing dead against the mock stadium wall. 

It’s like, totally not hot that he’s so protective. Nope, not at all. 

“I’m fine, Kacchan.” Izuku groans as he blinks his eyes open. 

Shouto jogs over, his character not having been flung back twenty feet due to his handy-dandy ability to make ice walls. “Izu,” he says. “You good?”

Izuku tells his friend he’s fine, Kacchan scowls and makes fun of Shouto under his breath, tilting his head this way and that as he mutters, Izu, you good? Izu, want me to kiss your ass? Izu, I secretly love you and want to steal you from Katsuki like the pretty boy himbo I secretly am.

The director calls out from his chair behind the camera tracks, “Katsuki, kid, I swear to whatever higher power is listening right now, if you would have run on set as we were still filming I would have fired you.”

Kacchan stands to his full height. Puts one hand in his pocket. Cocks his head and smirks. 

Izuku is gay.

“Psh,” Kacchan says. “As if you could hire anyone half as good to replace me, old man.”

“I’m taking back your raise.”

Izuku reels. “Raise? Did everyone get one for season two? Am I the only one who didn’t hear anything about this? Oh gosh, am I not doing well? I can’t–”

A slightly sweaty hand clamps down over his mouth. “Deku,” Kacchan says. “No one else had a salary negotiation. Just me. Chill out.”

Shouto, who has one index finger on each side of his hair, twirling the red and the white like a barber shop sign, frowns. “Why didn’t the rest of us?”

“Because I was fan-voted as the most popular character, dipshit,” Kacchan smirks. 

Izuku knows he is supposed to be the main character here, but he was fine coming in second in the fan polls behind Kacchan. Really, there is no one better to take second place to. It honestly doesn't even feel like a loss. Heck, he’d vote for Kacchan over himself any day.

Kacchan tugs him by the hand to his feet, pulls Izuku into his chest, threads his fingers into his curls to hold him there. He can feel his heart beating against his cheek. His mouth starts to water. Down boy, bad dog. 

“Besides,” Kacchan says, “I need the money for something.” 

The hand in his hair flexes. Blunt nails scratch against his scalp, sending zips of electricity down his spine. Izuku asks, “For what, Kacchan?”

He doesn’t get a response. 

He won’t for a while. 

~~~

It feels like a class field trip, and Izuku guesses that’s kind of what this is. They’re in a charter bus, with Shouta sat in the seat just behind the driver. He twists against the chair clearly upholstered in the early two-thousands, and smiles. 

“Okay kiddos,” he calls out. “We’re here. The producers told me they want Izuku, Katsuki, Shouto and Ochako on the couch, and then the stools behind them are free game for everyone else–got it?”

“And where are you sitting, Sensei?” Hitoshi calls. 

It doesn’t matter that Shouta is only a few years older than the rest of them–that the bags under his eyes are a product of hair and make-up–they love the guy who plays their Aizawa-sensei and they make it well known.

“On a chair next to the couch,” he says with a soft grin. “Someone needs to be the adult escorting you hooligans.”

“Uh, I’m eight fuckin’ teen,” Kacchan yells from his spot next to Izuku. Their thighs are pressed together. 

“Mhm, yup, sure Katsuki kid,” Shouta says without hesitation. “Let’s go.”

The studio is stuffed full of busybodies and the warm smell of coffee. It’s early, the sun isn’t up yet, but Izuku is too wired to feel tired. It’s his first interview ever and he’s excited, excited, excited. 

MHA has been killing it in the rankings. They’re always trending. It’s what landed them a Sunday morning spot on the nation's most-watched wake-up talk show.

A shoulder bumps his. “You nervous?” It’s Eijirou, there with his always-ready smile and kind eyes. Izuku thinks it’s a bit of a full-circle moment. Months ago, Eijirou was helping him calm down before his second audition. Now, he’s seeing if he needs help before their first interview as a cast. It makes him smile.

“Actually, I’m excited.”

An arm slings around his waist and he doesn’t squeak – he doesn’t. 

“Of course he isn’t nervous, Shitty Hair,” Kacchan says. “He’s my Deku, after all.”

Eijirou beams, heat crawls its reddening way up Izuku’s neck, and before he can count to four, they’re squashed side by side into a white leather couch. He’s smack dab in the center, right in between Shouto and Kacchan. The host sits on a plush chair across from them, her smile wide and warm.

She tells them to act naturally, to be themselves, to act how they do on set – to ignore the cameras and just talk to her. 

Shouta, a seasoned pro at this, rolls his dark eyes. “Class,” he says.

“Yes, sensei?” Everyone roll calls back.

The host blinks in surprise. Izuku giggles. Kacchan squeezes his knee.

“While you should indeed ignore the cameras, please do not forget this is an interview and you are representing not only yourselves but MHA as a whole. She is not your friend, this is not a private chat. Think your answers through.”

In unison, they nod. “Yes, sensei!” 

The host looks sheepish, but she doesn’t say anything to dispute his claims. Izuku doesn't hold it against her. People crashing and burning by being too open on shows like this go viral all the time. It’s probably good for their ratings. She probably wants one of them to feel too comfortable and let something slip.

Izuku pinches the skin on the back of his hand, twisting a bit with his nails. He will not be that person. 

Not today, host-lady-satan. 

~~~

He’s that person. Oh my Lanta, Jesus fucking Christ, Izuku is that person to crash and burn and up the morning show’s rankings. 

It was going fine, good, even, until the host looked Izuku dead in the eyes and said, 

“So, Izuku, you’ve really captured the eye of many with your boyish charm and sweet nature on the show. Tell us,” she leans forward, “is it all an act?” 

Izuku smiles. His agent has prepared him for questions like these, and he knows exactly what he can and can’t say.

“Midoriya as a character was actually fitted around who I am as a person! So no, miss, I tend to act the same way! Without, ya know, the quirk and the super strength. Oh! And the scars are all drawn on. But other than that,” he smiles, “what ya see is what ya get!” 

There’s a faint awww from the crew behind the cameras. Izuku shifts against Kacchan.

The host notices. “And what about you, Katsuki? Bakugou seems to be quite the hit with viewers despite his brash nature. Certainly, the character wasn’t fitted around you as it was for Izuku?”

Kacchan looks bored. “Nah, it was.”

The host blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” Kacchan raises the volume of his voice. “That the producers saw how Deku and I interact and changed everything in the script for us. To quote this little dweeb,” he elbows Izuku playfully and smiles a little for the first time as he does. “What ya see is what ya get.”

“You call Izuku Deku? Like his character's hero name?” She asks, her eyes glinting with the promise of something good is about to happen. 

“He’s my Deku. So, yeah, I do.”

“Oh? Your Deku?”

“That’s what I fu–freaking said.”

The host's fake-white smile is small as she looks at Izuku. “So, Izuku, our young audience would love to know–” 

His heart pitter-padders. Palpitates. Squeezes. Faceplants.

“Are you single?” 

Sat on a stool behind him and to the left, Toru gasps. Mina, somewhere, eeps. Hitoshi whistles, low and unable to be picked up by the boom mics. 

Kacchan, next to him, seems to have turned to cement. Izuku isn’t even sure if he’s breathing. 

“Uhh,” he starts, eyes darting to Shouta for help, for advice, for divine intervention. 

Because he doesn’t know. Is he? Is Kacchan his boyfriend? They haven’t kissed, but his hand has taken residence at Izuku’s knee when they sit close, and he always plays with his hair, and his fingers curl around his when no one else is around, and, and, and –

And he’s tired of not knowing.

So he looks at Kacchan while Shouta is shifting to say something and says,

“I don’t know, Kacchan. Am I single?” 

~~~

It’s nighttime, and Kacchan is pulling him roughly by the wrist onto the set of their cityscape training grounds. Set Beta, it’s called by the cast. 

Izuku can feel the emotion pricking behind his eyes, and he’s so embarrassed. He can’t let himself be strung along anymore. 

Both physically in this moment, and emotionally. 

“Kacchan,” he rasps. “Katsuki, stop.”

Kacchan stops walking, and it’s so sudden Izuku smacks into his back. He’s wearing a black tank top and black joggers. His hair is messier than usual. He turns to face Izuku, and his red eyes are simmering embers.

They haven’t talked since the interview this morning – since Shouta swooped in, changed the question and got them back on track. 

It doesn’t mean the moment isn’t running wild on the internet. That the shocked look on Kacchan’s face when Izuku asked if he was single or not hasn’t already been made into multiple memes. That the director didn’t call Izuku up and say, kid, this isn’t the kinda press we want. We love ya here, but don’t do it again.

“I’ll stop,” Kacchan says, voice silky smooth and mean. “When you take freaking responsibility for what you did today.”

For a moment, Izuku doesn’t have words. He’s lost track of every single one he’s accumulated during his seventeen years alive. Because Kacchan has never, not in the months they’ve been living and working together, looked at Izuku like that. 

Like he hates him as much as he hates everyone else. 

He’s so hot when he’s mad, Izuku thinks without, well, really thinking. 

And then it hits him like a prized-fighters fist: Izuku doesn’t even know if he likes Katsuki, or if he’s caught up in him. In his eyes, his intensity, the way he commands your attention and devotion like a sovereign staring at a peasant.  

It makes this moment so much easier, thinking he might not actually lo-like Katsuki. 

“And what did I do today?” Izuku yells back. “Embarrass the hell out of myself? Basically out myself on TV? Well, guess what Katsuki? You literally claimed me on Twitter months ago, so you did the same thing but first.”

“I claimed Midoriya as Bakugou. I didn’t say shit about you,” Katsuki spits the words through clenching teeth. “Do you know how many fans we’ll lose if someone finds out we’re–”

He stops, and Izuku can’t help it. He laughs in his face. “That we’re what, Katsuki? Together? Dating?” He throws his arms out wide and smiles a smile he doesn’t mean. “Well, good thing we aren’t, since you’ve just been marking your territory this whole time without actually doing anything about it!” 

Izuku isn’t expecting Katsuki to shove him.

He also isn’t expecting to throw the first punch. 

And when they’re bruised and panting and there's a rip in the knee of his jeans from when he went down on the mock pavement hard, Izuku isn’t expecting to taste the blood from Katsuki’s split lip.

They’re kissing, Katsuki above Izuku as he has him pressed to the ground by the neck, and Izuku tastes sweat and heat and spit and something like a fresh roll of pennies. 

It’s great, it’s perfect, it’s messy and awful and he’s pretty sure he’s crying.

“Stupid fuckin’ Deku,” Katsuki mouths against Izuku’s cheek. “You stupid fuckin’ crybaby. Why do I like you so stupid much?”

Izuku breathes out heavy. His eyes are still closed from the kiss. “I don’t–I don’t know, Katsuki.”

“Oi, look at me.”

Izuku doesn’t. He can’t right now. 

“Deku. Izuku. Baby, look at me.”

As if he could keep his eyes closed after hearing Katsuki call him baby. He’s going to be reliving this moment forever.  

Looming above him, Katsuki frowns. A bruise is coming up his jaw from Izuku’s sucker punch. “I’m sorry. For what I said. For fighting.”

Izuku’s lip trembles. “No, I’m sorry. I should never have punched you, that was awful of me. I have never been violent before, I have no idea what came over me.”

Katsuki gives a teeny smile. “It’s all of the fake fighting we’ve been doing on set. Don’t worry–it was epic. Ten out of ten would do again if kissing you is the end result.”

Izuku squirms under Katsuki’s weight. He eclipses him completely. Izuku really hadn’t realized before this…new angle…how much larger Katsuki was. 

“So…Uh…Katsuki, am I single?”

Katsuki groans. “Oh my fuckin’ god, Deku. Only you. Only fuckin’ you.”

He shoves off of Izuku, stands and paces away. Izuku pops up, wholly confused. He says as much. Katsuki whirls on him.

“You haven’t been single since the moment I saw your stupid freckled face in the damn audition, Izuku. I looked you in the eyes and said you were mine. What wasn’t clear enough for you?”

Izuku waits for him to laugh. To say sike. To hit him again, maybe.

But he’s given nothing but that intense look and the silence of the abandoned set at night. 

Oh fuck.

“Wow,” Izuku breathes. “I’m stupid, huh?”

“Quite honestly the most unintelligent nerd I know,” Katsuki agrees. 

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s face twists sour. “Stop callin’ me that. I’m Kacchan,” he points at Izuku. “You’re Deku, and you’re mine, I’m yours, done deal. Got it?”

They’re roughed up and a bit out of sorts, their first kiss tasted like blood and pure teenage angst, but Izuku swings his arms as he skips over to his co-star and happily says, “Okay, Kacchan.”

Chapter Text

“Baby,” Katsuki rasps. “Please come back. We were supposed to fight this war together–”

A deep sigh sounds from off set. “Cut.”

“Haaaah?” Katsuki turns, a frown on his face as he stares at their director. The scene was going perfectly, he was so expressive, it was exactly what they had asked of him in the script read that morning. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku is sat to the right of the director in his tattered vigilante costume. His face is flushed pink. “You said baby.”

“No I didn’t, I said Deku.”

“You said baby.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!” 

“Look,” the director interrupts. “I get those words are synonymous for you lovebirds, but regardless of you two being together now, Bakugou and Midoriya are not canon. Please, for the love of all things holy, stop ruining takes with this nonsense.” 

Katsuki feels his stomach clench a bit. Well, that’s embarrassing. And frequent, now that they’re both on the same page. 

Sheesh, he still can’t believe stupid Deku didn’t know from day one that they were dating. 

Idiot.

Probable love of his life but you didn’t hear it from him.

“Well,” he grumbles, kicking at the concrete of his fake dorm patio. “Maybe bkdk should be canon.”

“Come again? We can’t hear you.”

“Maybe we should be canon!” he yells. “I mean, look at this shit!” he gestures wide to the set. “I am literally pining after the little fuck, whining about him leaving me as I stare longingly at the stars. Are you kidding? Are you blind?”

MHA has skyrocketed in the rankings since The Interview; since the pap shots of them from date nights downtown got leaked to TMZ. He’s pretty sure fans watch the show for them now, rather than the plot.

Katsuki’s cool with it. 

From the snack table, Shouto calls, “I still ship TodoDeku.”

“No one fucking asked, IcyThot!!!!”

“He’s so romantic,” Deku breathes with ill-concealed longing.

“He really isn't,” says Shouto, who stuffs his face with one last PopTart. Around a mouthful of sugar and dough, he continues, “Reaaallly isn’t. Kinda concerned for you. Might call CPS. Might call Aizawa-sensei.”

Shouta walks by at that moment, a makeup artist trailing behind with dismay and defeat in their eyes. “Sir,” they mutter. “Can I please finish applying this eye shadow–”

“I’m not your actual teacher, kid,” Shouta says as he meanders to the Starbucks Pike Roast they have on tap.

“Yes you are,” Katsuki, Izuku, and Shouto say at once

~~~

It’s movie season, and Izuku couldn’t be more excited. 

Not only does he get to travel with all of his best friends – he gets to be in a movie. A movie - the kind that goes in theaters with AC and popcorn and soft drinks. 

He’s already made it, but now it feels official. 

They’re filming two at once, which is stressful but the writers call cost effective. One is about some World Mission, the other about how they’re Rising as Heroes. It’s all pretty cool, he’s kinda overwhelmed. 

Kacchan helps with his constant reassurance; the head pets and forehead kisses and the words of affirmation. The, you’ve got this, and, we’re all here to see you shine, Deku baby. 

Hook, line, and sinker – if Izuku hadn’t realized he was in love with Kacchan before, he certainly knows now. 

They’re on set for the World movie when they meet him.

He has wild brown hair and pretty grey eyes. He’s even kinder than the character he plays, and he’s a professional bird talker.

“Rody’s the name,” he says to Izuku on day one. “I’m your Soul for the movie!!” 

Kacchan materializes out of apparent nothingness. His arm takes up it’s pride of place around Izuku’s waist. 

“Deku has a soulmate already, thanks though, don’t come again.”

Rody blinks. The bird on his shoulder tilts it’s head. “Um,” he says. “I meant I play the character Soul? The one who gets in trouble with Midoriya and… I mean, did you not read the manuscript? I’m kind of the catalyst? Like, I am the inciting incident?” 

“I’ll read it when I have to,” Kacchan says. He taps at his temple. “Photographic memory.” A sneer rides up one side of his mouth. Izuku can tell from the way his eyes narrow and slant that he’s about to say something outlandish.

It makes Izuku’s blood run warm. Anticipation curls his toes in his sneakers.

“You should just see some of the mental pictures I’ve taken of my Deku. You’d be surprised how flexible–”

“Annnnd that’s enough, Kacchan!” Izuku grips his hand and tugs. “We gotta go, uh, get into costume! See you soon ride me, I mean Rody, I mean Soul!” 

They’re five feet away when Kacchan starts cackling. 

“Did you really call that extra ride me?”

Izuku whines into his hands. “I was thinking about last night and what those mental pictures might be and–”

“Jesus christ,” a droning voice says, drawing their attention to the entrance of the costume RV they’re nearing. It’s Shouto, sipping a smoothie. “Can you two stop doing this while I’m eating?”

~~~

“Could I maybe get your number?” Soul asks with a blush high on his cheekbones after they finish the airport scene. It’s the last day of filming, and Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t going to miss the new friends they met here. “We could keep in touch–”

A hand grips into Izuku’s hair. Kacchan yanks him away from a dismayed looking Soul.

“Not on your life bird brain.”

~~~ 

The fans are calling it BakuDeku Rising, and watching the movie now, Izuku totally understands why. 

“Baku,” his character says on screen, calling Bakugou the nickname only he can use since he and Midoriya are childhood friends. His arm, battered and bruised, is reaching towards him, an offering with a larger symbolism behind it. 

Bakugou stares at him with eyes like fire. “Are you sure?”

And he’d improvised. “Always, K-Baku.” 

Izuku flinches. He wonders why the editors didn’t catch the slip, wonders how on earth him almost calling the character Bakugou Kacchan made it into the final film.

He’s a little happy for it. This movie is forever. His claim – the name only he can get away with calling the famous, feral Katsuki – is now immortalized on the silver screen. 

Well, mostly on Amazon Video, but like, you get the point.

With a swell of possessiveness, he reaches over to grip Kacchan’s knee. 

“Doing okay, Deku baby?” his boyfriend asks. “This is a pretty emo scene for a crybaby like you.”

“I just wonder if the fans know this is going to be canon,” Izuku replies. “If they know that this will tie into the main show.”

Kacchan leans in to kiss him. Shouto gags in the row behind them. It’s sweet and soft and unexpected. Not the gag - the Kacchan kiss. 

“You mean if they know it foreshadows that through One for All, Bakugou is now forever tied to Deku, even in death?”

Izuku looks at Kacchan.

Kacchan is already staring.

“Yeah, I wonder if they know.”

Kacchan speaks softly. “I know. I know what it all means.”

Izuku feels his throat begin to close around that emotion that just waits in the form of one unspoken word, waiting waiting waiting to be said. 

“Till death?” he whispers instead. But perhaps that means more, anyways. 

Kacchan nods, eyes glinting wet in the movie light.

“Till death.”

~~~

They’re in love.

Everything is perfect.

And then it’s season seven, and they get the script for the day.

“No,” Izuku chokes out, standing up in the cast reading.

“Izuku–” Kacchan starts, but Izuku quiets him with a look so fierce, Katsuki wonders if his Deku is in character right now.

“He doesn't – he can’t,” his voice breaks. Shatters. “Katsuki cannot die. Deku would rip out his still beating heart to save him. It doesn’t make sense.” 

“It’s for the betterment of the show,” the director tries to coax Izuku like a wounded animal. The writers sat next to him nod slowly, almost like they’re uncertain of their own stance on the game-changing decision to kill off the character consistently fan voted as the most popular cast member.  

“Then film the rest without me.”

And Izuku stands. And Izuku walks out. 

It takes all of five seconds for Shouto and Tenya to follow. All of six seconds for the rest of class 2A to do the same. 

“Katsuki lives,” Shouta says. “Or I guarantee you, you’ll need an entire new cast. And,” he adds. “Potentially a new fanbase. Just saying.”

Chapter Text

Izuku looks over the days script and scene setting panels. He's in the cast reading room near set. He'd arrived twenty minutes earlier than they were told to. He knew if things turned out differently, he would need the extra time to start the next world war. 

But right there, he sees it: DYNAMIGHT RISES. 

It feels Shakespearean. So simple, and yet he thinks he could fly. He can't, he isn't actually Midoriya and for better or worse, quirks are a thing of the writers imagination. Still, he is beaming as the others enter one at a time.

The director enters last, glancing over to where Katsuki has one arm lazily draped over his boyfriends shoulders, his legs kicked up onto the table where their scrips are scattered about. Shouto is trying to convince him to get his eyebrow pierced. Izuku isn't opposed to it. 

"You do have nice eyebrows, Kacchan," Izuku says. 

"Shut up before I kiss you," Katsuki replies. 

"You have nice eyebrows you have nice eyebrows you have nice-"

"Ahem." The director coughs into their fist. "I assume you've all read over the script for today?" 

Izuku smiles so bright his white teeth gleam. "Oh! Yes! Thank you for obeying, I mean, for listening to my recommendation for the show and for Kacchan's character! I am so glad I don't need to result to chemical warfare!" 

"That is illegal, Izuku," Shouto deadpans, scrolling through eyebrow rings on etsy for a scowling Katsuki, who seems to hate every single one of them.

Izuku nods, a quick, sharp bob of his head. "Right. But remember that I am not above breaking a few international laws, Shou."

"Of course," Shouto says seriously. 

The director shivers. At that moment, Aizawa enters, a pocketful of minutes late, a venti cold brew with a quad-shot, iced, in hand. "So you lived to see another day," he drawls, "good for you."

Swallowing hard, the director thanks the gods they last minute decided to put out the script keeping Bakugou alive out onto the tables today. They'll burn the printed copies of the one where Bakugou doesn't live; the copy where Midoriya destroys half of the world seeking revenge. 

Then, though their heart cannot take much more of these feral gremlin children, the director nearly falls out of their chair as Izuku screams. The script falls in a flurry of pages out of his makeup-scarred hands. "HE IS GOING TO CALL HIMSELF KACCHAN BAKUGOU?!"

"Christ, how much more can happen between BakuDeku before it is just canon?" Denki asks, leaning heavily onto Shinsou.

"I think they should kiss when everything ends and there's an episode of us alive, grown up, and pro heroes," Mina adds.

"They need to have twins."

"How?"

"Um, have you ever heard of the Omegaverse?"

Izuku's eyes brighten at their conversation. The director sighs.