Emmaafinchh - ･ﾟﾟ･⊹ Em⊹･ﾟﾟ･

ISRAEL HAVE STARTED BOMBING RAFAH! THE PLACE THEY INSISTED WAS A SAFE REFUGE FOR THE PEOPLE OF GAZA! ALL EYES ON RAFAH!

our love through the lives

reincarnated bakugou katsuki x reader

the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was steady but weak, a fragile hourglass marking the dwindling moments of his life. the evening light spilled through the blinds in soft, golden slants, illuminating the deep lines etched into his weathered face. his once wild blonde hair had thinned and turned silver with time, but his grip- though weak- was still warm in your hand.

a news broadcast played on the small television mounted in the corner, the words barely registering.

“retired pro hero dynamight has not been seen in public for weeks, sparking concern among-”

you barely heard the rest. it didn’t matter. the world could wait.

katsuki let out a slow exhale, his chest rising and falling beneath the thin hospital blanket. his crimson eyes, once blazing with untamed energy, now carried the weight of decades, softened by time but still sharp as they met yours. a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips- fainter than before, but still undeniably his.

“you’re starin’ at me like i’m already dead,” he muttered, his voice rough with age but tinged with dry amusement.

you huffed a quiet laugh, squeezing his hand, the cool metal of his wedding band felt beneath your fingers. “maybe i’m just admiring you, old man.”

his thumb brushed faintly over your knuckles. he sighed, eyes growing heavier. “never thought i’d get this far, y’know? always figured i’d go out with a bang.”

“you did,” you murmured, shifting closer. “you just took your time with it.”

his smirk widened, but only slightly. his hand tightened around yours, as if grounding himself in your presence. “guess i did…” his voice grew softer, barely above a whisper. “and i got to spend it with you. that’s all that ever mattered.”

his hand, once strong enough to tear through concrete, now rested in yours with a fragile kind of warmth. the years had stolen his strength but not his fire- not the stubborn, unyielding spirit that had burned so brightly through every battle, every hardship, every damn thing life threw at him.

he had survived it all. and now, here he was, at the very end of the road with you.

katsuki let out a slow breath, his eyes half-lidded but still gazing at you, as if afraid to blink. “you’re still here,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

your fingers tightened around his, anchoring him to the moment. “of course, always will be.”

“dumbass… ‘course you are.” his eyes drifted to the window, where the sun hung low, painting the sky in soft oranges and golds. “y’know… i always hated sunsets. meant the day was over. meant time was runnin’ out.”

your throat tightened. “katsuki-”

“but,” he cut in, his thumb once again brushing lazily over your skin, “you liked ‘em. so i started watching ‘em too.” his voice grew quieter, raspier. “guess they ain’t so bad.”

you blinked back the sting of tears. you wouldn’t cry. not yet. not when he was still here, still holding on.

“you always had to be difficult,” you murmured, forcing a small smile.

he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “yeah… but you loved me anyway.”

the words settled between you, warm and final.

the heart monitor beeped- steady, but slower. his fingers twitched in your grasp, his breaths growing shallow. his gaze softened, his body sinking further into the bed, into the pull of sleep that he wouldn’t wake from.

“katsuki,” you whispered, leaning in close, pressing your forehead to his. “i love you.”

his lips parted slightly, his next breath barely there. “love you too.” his voice was nothing but air, slipping through your fingers like the last rays of sunlight.

and then-

the monitor gave one last, drawn-out beep before falling silent.

the world outside kept moving. the news kept playing. the sun kept setting. but in this moment, in this room, time stood still.

you stayed there, holding his hand. as the sky faded to night.

because love like this- like yours- didn’t end.

not really.

it would find it’s way back again. it always did.

—

the sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the endless grassy plain. the wind rolled through the tall grass in gentle waves, carrying the scent of earth and wildflowers. you had been walking for hours, wandering. the weight of countless lifetimes pressed against your chest, when you spotted him.

a lone figure moved across the horizon, his silhouette cutting sharply across the distance.

even from a distance, you knew.

bakugou katsuki.

your breath caught. he was different in this life- wilder, untamed. his blonde hair was slightly longer, messily tousled by the wind. a crimson cloak was slung over his shoulders, multiple necklaces consisting of fangs hung from his neck. his furs and leathers were worn from battle, dusted with the remnants of his travels. a sword hung at his hip, his posture relaxed yet ready, like a predator always on edge.

he hadn’t seen you yet.

you should’ve kept walking. should’ve turned away before he noticed. but after waiting for so long, of remembering what he has forgotten- how could you?

and then his gaze snapped to you.

you barely had time to think before he was striding toward you, footsteps firm and unwavering. his crimson eyes burned with suspicion, scanning you like a threat.

“the hell are you doin’ out here?” his voice was rough, sandpaper and steel- just as you remembered.

you swallowed, steadying yourself. “i’m just a traveler.”

his scowl deepened. “tch. yeah? then you’re a dumbass traveler.” his gaze flicked over you, sharp and assessing. “ain’t safe out here. bandits, beasts- you’re either lost or stupid.”

you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

a dry, bitter laugh almost slipped from your lips. if only he knew how many lives you had spent trying to find him again.

but he didn’t. not yet.

you met his gaze, steady. “i can handle myself.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “that so?” a smirk ghosted over his lips, dangerous and intrigued. “doubt you can keep up.”

and just like that, you were whisked away into your next adventure with your beloved. the journey that followed was nothing short of relentless.

at first, bakugou had no intention of letting you travel with him. he was a warrior, a king, and he didn’t have time to babysit some wandering traveler who didn’t know better than to walk alone through dangerous lands. but you were persistent, keeping up with him despite the grueling pace he set. he tried to shake you off, throwing warnings over his shoulder about the beasts that lurked in the forests and the mercenaries who would gut you for a single gold piece. you didn’t waver.

and so, begrudgingly, he let you stay.

your journey took you across endless grasslands and through thick, mist-covered woods. you met many people, most of which resembled your friends from previous lifetimes. a short, green-haired boy who was devoted to his knightly training. a sweet mage who used her powers to heal and make things float, a prince who could control ice and fire.

you camped beneath starlit skies, listening to the distant howls of wolves while the fire crackled between you. bakugou was guarded at first- gruff and distant, keeping conversations short, always watching you like you were hiding something.

but with time, the walls between you began to crack.

there was the time when you fought side by side against a pack of beasts, creatures with blackened fangs and glowing eyes. he had been wary of your skill, but when he saw you hold your own, his usual scowl shifted- just slightly- into something like approval.

then there was the moment you caught him staring into the fire one night, lost in thought. he never spoke of his past, but there was something in that expression that was painfully familiar- the weight of expectations, the burden of leadership. even without his memories of your past lives, he was still the same katsuki.

and slowly, something changed.

he started waiting for you before setting off in the mornings. tossing you extra rations without a word. grumbling about how you were too soft-hearted when you insisted on helping a lost child in a ruined village, only to turn around and build the kid a fire himself.

and when you collapsed after days of travel without rest, he had cursed under his breath, scooping you up into his arms without hesitation.

“dumbass,” he muttered, adjusting his arm around you as he carried you, his grip firm and warm against your skin. “you don’t know when to quit, huh?” but his voice was softer now, no longer the harsh growl it used to be.

you found yourself looking at him differently. his gruff demeanor, the way he carried himself like a lone wolf had always intrigued you, but now it felt different- like the walls between you were slowly crumbling with every shared glance, every quiet night spent together.

one afternoon, as you traveled through the thick and dark forest at the edge of a kingdom, you were ambushed by a group of bandits. they came from the trees, their swords drawn, but bakugou was ready.

with a roar, he lunged into action, taking down the first two with brutal efficiency that you had come to expect from him. but then, one of the bandits turned toward you, his blade aimed at your chest. you barely had time to react, your own sword drawn, but before you could strike, bakugou was there- his fist slamming into the bandit’s face with a force that sent him flying into a tree.

“you okay?” his voice was low, the familiar scowl back on his face, but there was something else in his eyes- something deeper, protective.

“i’m fine, thank you,” you said, though your pulse still raced. “but you’re reckless.”

that night, as you sat beside the fire, you couldn’t help but notice how close he had gotten. not just physically, but emotionally. the long silences that had once stretched were now filled with casual teasing, shared laughter, and the occasional quiet conversation that stretched into the night.

he started to ask you more about your past, though never prying too deep. when you mentioned your travels, he listened intently, his usual bravado replaced by something softer, more curious.

one evening, you found yourselves at the edge of a cliff, watching the sunset paint the sky in streaks of orange and purple. bakugou stood next to you, arms crossed, but this time, he didn’t seem so distant.

“you ever stop to think about what you’re doing here?” he asked, his voice quiet.

you glanced to him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… why are you still here? with me, i mean. not everyone’s cut out for this kind of life. it’s not easy.” he shifted slightly, his gaze faraway.

you smiled softly, the memories of your past life flickering at the edges of your thoughts. “i think i’m exactly where i need to be.”

his eyes flickered to you, narrowing slightly as though trying to decipher your meaning. but then, without a word, he reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

you froze, feeling the connection between you stir once more, and you didn’t pull away. neither of you said anything, but in that quiet moment, it felt like the world had shifted.

and with every passing day, the distance between you- the one he had built, the one you had tried so hard to bridge- was slowly disappearing.

he had started to remember, in the smallest ways.

you were sitting by the fire, cleaning your sword after another skirmish with a band of raiders. bakugou was sharpening his blade beside you, his usual scowl etched across his face, but there was something different in his eyes- something far away.

“oi,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “you ever feel like… like this isn’t the first time we’ve done this?”

you paused mid-motion, your fingers tightening around the hilt of your sword. you glanced up at him, trying to hide the flutter of your heart.

“what do you mean?” you asked, though you already knew.

He shifted. “i dunno. it’s just… every time we fight together, or when we get quiet like this, it feels… familiar. like i’ve known ya longer than the past year.”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral. “maybe you just got used to traveling with me.”

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it wasn’t just the time he had spent with you. it was something deeper- something he was starting to sense, like the lingering pull of a forgotten memory.

a few days passed, and the feeling seemed to grow stronger. every so often, you’d catch him staring at you, like he was seeing something more than just the person beside him. one evening, as the sun dipped behind the mountains, bakugou spoke, his voice unusually quiet. his eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed into a tight line as if he were grappling with something just beyond his reach. “i’ve seen you before… but where?”

that night, as you both lay beneath the stars, the fire crackling softly, bakugou’s sleep was fitful. he tossed and turned, his brow furrowed in frustration.

when he woke the next morning, he didn’t immediately look at you. he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“i had a dream,” he muttered, more to himself than you. “a dream about… us. it felt real. like we’ve been through so many things together before.”

your heart raced. you remained still, waiting for him to continue.

“it wasn’t just some damn dream. it was real. i don’t remember everything, but i know… i know i’ve been with you before, haven’t i?”

you could feel the weight of his words, the hesitation, the confusion in his voice. and yet, despite the uncertainty, there was something else- something that made you know that he was starting to remember.

for the first time since meeting him in this life, you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. his muscles tensed at your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“yes,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “we’ve been together before. more times than either of us can count.”

bakugou turned to face you then, his eyes wide and the usual fire dimming in them for a moment. “why can’t i remember? why does it feel like i’m losing my mind?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “maybe it’s not time for you to remember completely yet. but it will be, eventually. i promise.”

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. he simply stared at you, as if searching for something in your eyes- something that would make sense of the chaos inside of him.

and then, without a word, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative at first, unsure. but as you kissed him back, something shifted. the connection between you, long buried beneath layers of forgotten lives, began to resurface, like a flood of memories fighting to break free.

when he pulled back, his breath was uneven, and his hands trembled slightly as they hovered at your sides.

“i remember you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “i remember you… even if i can’t remember everything.”

you smiled, feeling the weight of years of love and loss that led to this moment. “it’s okay. you don’t have to remember everything right now. we have all the time we need.”

years passed, and the world around you both seemed to change, even though the battles and struggles never truly stopped. the two of you, side by side, had seen countless faces come and go, witnessed victories and losses alike.

the bond between you and bakugou had only deepened, but time, as it always did, wore on. you both had grown, in ways both subtle and grand, shaped by everything you’d endured together. bakugou was still the warrior he had always been, strong and fierce, but the fire that once burned so brightly within him was now tempered by the passing of the years.

one evening, as the sky painted itself in shades of pink and purple, you stood together at the edge of the very same cliff from years ago, overlooking a valley. the winds had settled, and there was nothing but the hum of the earth, as if everything had come full circle. bakugou stood beside you, his posture strong, but the weight of the years was beginning to show.

“do you ever think… that maybe we’re finally done with all of this?” he asked, his voice quiet but carrying the years of uncertainty and battles fought. his gaze was distant, looking at the horizon, but his words were for you alone.

you took a deep breath, feeling the wind sweep across your face, tasting the salt of the distant sea. “maybe. but i think we’ll always find something else. something worth fighting for.”

he chuckled softly, though it was laced with an edge of something unreadable. “always you, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

you smiled softly, turning to face him. “always you, too.”

and so, you and the barbarian king looked out across the vast horizon, and you knew that although this life might be winding down, the end of this era was just another beginning waiting to unfold.

—

the blaring sun in the sky casted it’s golden glow over the vast expanse of the ocean as your ship sliced through the waves. your crew worked in rhythm, their shouts and laughter carried by the salty breeze as they adjusted sails and checked the rigging. you stood at the helm, your fingers gripping the wheel with practiced ease, eyes scanning the horizon.

you’d been sailing for days now, the winds favorable and the sea calm. it wasn’t until the sun dipped lower that you saw it. a ripple in the water, far off in the distance but growing closer. at first, you thought it was perhaps some large fish breaching the surface. but then, you saw him.

a flash of pale golden hair broke through the waves, followed by the sleek and powerful form of a merman. he was a striking contrast to the dark water, with glistening crimson scales that shimmered like polished gemstones. his tail flicked in the sea, the sharp movement sending waves against the ship’s hull.

but it wasn’t the sheer power of the creature that caught your attention. it was the way he moved, the way he looked at you. his eyes locked onto yours, and your heart swelled knowing that you had finally come across your love yet again in this life. your katsuki.

the merman’s lips curled into a smirk as he swam closer, the water parting as if he owned the sea himself. his muscular form stopped just short of the ship, hovering in the water as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

“so you’re the captain of the crimson tempest, huh?” his voice was deep and rough, carrying the weight of the ocean itself. he eyed you with a critical gaze. “i’ve been hearing rumors about ya. thought i’d come see for myself.”

you felt the familiar rush of recognition, but you knew better than to show too much. he didn’t remember yet- as usual. the bond between you that transcended time, that only you knew, was still buried deep within him. but here, in this new life, you had to tread carefully.

you leaned against the ship’s wheel, matching his gaze with calm confidence, despite the racing pulse in your chest. “what’s it to you, merman?” you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the longing that you felt deep inside. “i don’t know what rumors you’ve heard, but they’re just that- rumors.”

he didn’t falter, though something flickered in his intense red eyes. it was there, something beneath the surface that he couldn’t quite grasp, but you could feel it. you could always feel it when he was near.

“you don’t look like the kind of captain i’d expect,” he said, his smirk widening into something dangerous. “but i guess you don’t need to look the part to be effective, right?”

you chuckled darkly, a small smirk of your own pulling at your lips. “i’m plenty effective, merman. you’d do well to remember that.”

you saw a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of something you both had shared before. but it vanished quickly, swallowed by the vastness of the sea between you.

“maybe i will,” he muttered, though the words seemed to hold a different meaning. his lips parted, as if to say more, but instead, he just gave you a short nod.

then, without another word, bakugou dove beneath the water, his powerful form disappearing into the depths, leaving only the gentle ripples of the sea in his wake.

a few days later, you steered the crimson tempest into a small, sheltered cove. the crew had already begun preparations to unload. the ship finally came to a halt against the dock, and after doing your part of the unloading you made your way off the ship and onto the sandy beach of the cove.

and then you heard the sound of water splashing, too rhythmic to be a simple wave. your instincts kicked in and you turned just in time to see a flash of pale blonde hair rising from the water’s surface.

his presence was commanding as usual, and for the briefest of moments, you forgot about all of your responsibilities as captain. all that mattered was him- the katsuki you had fallen in love with over and over again.

he pulled himself onto a nearby rock, water dripping off his body. his gaze never left you, intense and unreadable. the usual cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and you could feel the pull of his presence like an invisible thread between you both.

“you seem to be everywhere i go, captain,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “figured i’d find you here too.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words, but beneath the teasing tone, there was something more- an underlying tension, an unspoken understanding that had been brewing ever since your first meeting. it was as if he was beginning to recognize something too, even if he didn’t have the words for it yet. even if he didn’t remember.

“you’ve been following me,” you replied, your voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “what is it you want, merman?”

“what i want?” he let out a low chuckle, his voice like the rolling waves. “i’m not sure yet. maybe i just like seeing if i can catch your attention.”

“well,” you said, your tone steady but not without a trace of amusement, “it looks like you’ve caught it.” you will always have it.

you took a step closer, the air between you crackling with an undeniable tension, as if the universe itself were drawing you together again. the warmth of the sun on your skin and the distant sound of your crew working on the ship felt like a distant hum compared to the pulse of energy between you and the merman. it was magnetic, powerful, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

he studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he held your gaze that made your heart race. “you’re different,” he said finally, his voice almost quiet. “can’t put my finger on it.”

you almost laughed at the irony, knowing all too well what that something was. you weren’t just another face to him. you were the one he had always come back to, again and again, in every lifetime.

“i think we’ll figure it out,” you replied softly, the undertone of promise hanging in the air.

and then, as if he had just come to a silent conclusion, his smirk returned, but this time it wasn’t teasing. it was real. a promise.

“alright then, captain” he said, his voice low and steady. “i think i’ll stick around. for a while.”

and so, the tide carried on, as it always had, bringing you together once more, just as it always would.

—

the city stretched out before you like a jagged labyrinth of glowing neon signs and towering skyscrapers, the horizon obscured by the haze of pollution and constant movement. neo-musutafu, a city that never slept, pulsed with the rhythm of the future, its streets crawling with the lost, the desperate, and the dangerous. high above, the hum of drones filled the air, ensuring that no one forgot who controlled the night.

you stood at the edge of the rooftop, your gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the flashing lights. the winds howled, carrying the smells of the city- oil, rain, and something darker. below, the streets were alive with a mixture of humans and aliens, some here to live, some here to fight. your job? to ensure the latter didn’t survive.

you were a hunter, part of a covert division tasked with eradicating alien threats before they had a chance to invade. but unlike the other hunters, you didn’t follow the company line blindly. your methods were efficient, precise, and without mercy- traits that had earned you respect, but also enemies. the company you worked for was one of many, and all had their own way of dealing with the extraterrestrial threats. your company? a well-oiled machine, protecting humanity at all costs.

it wasn’t glamorous, but it was necessary.

as you adjusted the grip on your weapons, the sharp hiss of your comm device broke the silence. “hunter 19, we have a target. a class-4 alien near the central district. immediate extraction is required.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. in this line of work, hesitation was a luxury no one could afford. strapping your weapons securely, you made your way down the building to the streets below. your mind was already working through the logistics where the alien would strike, how to contain the threat, and the quickest route to the rendezvous point.

this life had worn down both your heart and mind. though the memories of your past lives with your beloved lingered, the countless alien lives you had taken- the blood spilled in the name of duty- had slowly suffocated your spirit, leaving a shadow over your thoughts that you couldn’t shake. for once, you did not go out of your way to find bakugou. he was a dear, but faraway memory. a memory that was too good for someone like you.

you arrived at the outskirts of the central district, the city’s neon lights flickering in the distance like the heartbeat of a restless giant. the alien was close now. the familiar thump of your combat boots on the cold asphalt was a stark contrast to the chaos that simmered just beyond the horizon. you didn’t have to be told twice. every instinct you had honed in your years as a hunter kicked into gear.

the silence stretched, heavy and thick. then, without warning, the alien struck, it’s massive form tearing through the shadows. a blur of movement, its skin slick and black as it lunged toward you. your reflexes took over, but as you dodged, something about the alien’s speed and strength unsettled you. this wasn’t a typical battle.

the alien wasn’t going to make this easy.

the alien roared as it stumbled back, its claws slicing through the air just inches from your skin. you had barely managed to evade its strike, your weapon raised, ready to retaliate when the sudden sound of footsteps broke through the silence.

a shadow darted into your peripheral vision. a figure, hooded and cloaked in dark attire, lunged toward the alien with lightning speed, and in a series of fluid movements, the creature was brought to the ground.

you froze for a moment, startled by the intruder’s sudden appearance. before you could react, the hooded figure twisted, driving a sharp blade straight through the alien’s chest. it let out one last guttural screech before its body went limp.

the hooded figure stood still, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, the alien’s blood dripping from his blade. the streetlights above flickered briefly as if even the city itself had taken a collective breath.

you snapped out of your shock, clenching your fists. your voice rang out, sharp and scathing as you strode toward him. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

the hooded man didn’t flinch at your approach, but his back remained to you, his posture tense. you could tell he wasn’t afraid, and that pissed you off even more. your tone was cold, but there was an edge of frustration you couldn’t hide.

“you think you can just waltz in and kill like that?” your voice grew louder, shaking with the weight of your own guilt. “you’ve got a life on your hands now, a soul you’ve taken. is that really what you want?”

the anger bubbled up inside you, a mix of protectiveness and the instinct to save others from the same burden you carried. your gaze narrowed at the man’s back. “you don’t know what it’s like to have blood stain your hands, do you? to have to live with it, knowing you’ve taken a life… i don’t want that for you. i don’t want you to feel the same damn thing i do.”

the hooded man stood motionless for a long moment, before he slowly lowered the blade and turned toward you, his posture stiff. you couldn’t see his face- just the dark outline beneath the hood- but there was something in his presence, something familiar. it made your stomach twist, a feeling you couldn’t place.

and then, he slowly removed his hood.

the world seemed to stop for a beat, the neon lights casting a glow as your eyes locked onto his face.

those same eyes.

“…(y/n).”

your name. he had said it.

he had never remembered you first before; it was always you who had to find him. but now, the man you had loved through countless lives, the one you had adored over and over again, stood before you.

and you were a monster. he had found you, but at what cost?

you did not reach out to hold him, you did not run into his embrace. instead, you averted your gaze, shielding your eyes from him.

“i’m sorry,” you said, fists clenching by your sides. “i’m not the one you once loved.”

bakugou’s expression twisted, his jaw tightening as if the words stung more than they should have. his eyes, fierce and unwavering, bore into yours as he took a step closer.

“don’t say that,” he growled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “i remember you. from the moment i was born in this life, i remembered all of our past lives. every damn moment of them. i’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

he paused, his chest rising with each breath as if trying to steady the storm building inside him. his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a force that made you flinch, pulling you toward him.

“i don’t give a shit about what you’ve done. none of that matters. it will always be you. it’s always been you, no matter how many lives we’ve lived.” his eyes softened, but the intensity remained. “you’re mine, and no way in hell am i letting you go.”

tears streamed down your face as you struggled in his grip, desperate to break free. “you don’t understand,” your voice cracked, raw with pain. “i have a trail of blood behind me, lives i’ve destroyed… everywhere i go, i carry their ghosts. i’ve hurt so many, katsuki! i’m not the same person!”

katsuki’s grip softened, but only for a moment before he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. you felt the heat of his body, the steadiness of his heartbeat, and for a second, it grounded you in a way nothing else could. his voice was low but firm, holding an edge of desperation.

“don’t tell me you’re not the same person,” he murmured into your hair. “i’ll fall in love with you every damn time, no matter what you’ve done or how many lives you’ve taken. you’re still the one i’m meant to be with. always have been.”

he pulled back slightly, enough to look you in the eyes. “you can carry your burdens all you want, but you don’t have to carry them alone. i’m right here, and i’m not going anywhere.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them crashing down on you like a wave. the tears continued to fall, but this time, they weren’t just from pain- they were from a relief so deep, it left you breathless. you slowly lifted your gaze to his, meeting the intensity of his eyes, and for the first time in this life, the past ones, everything seemed to fall into place.

the countless lives, the struggles, the distance between you- it had all led you here, to this moment. and no matter what had happened before, no matter the paths you had walked, there was one undeniable truth that echoed through the core of your being: you were meant to be together.

you trembled as you cupped his face with shaking hands, your voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you’d felt across all lifetimes.

“katsuki,” you breathed, your heart pounding. “i… i love you. i always have, and i always will.”

his thumb traced the tear stains on your cheeks before lifting your chin, his gaze softening, but the passion in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i love you too, always. every lifetime, i find you. and i’ll keep finding you.”

in that moment, everything that had ever separated you- every pain, every fight, every lifetime- faded away. the world around you disappeared as you stood together, hearts in sync.

the universe had tried to pull you apart, had tried to erase the love you shared, but it had failed. you were soulmates- bound together in ways beyond time and death. no matter what came next, nothing would keep you apart.

you both leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips finding his in a kiss that sealed your fate. the kiss was not just a promise for this life, but for every life that had come before and every one that would follow.

and as the kiss deepened, as his arms tightened around you, you both knew- the story wasn’t over. it had never truly ended. it had only just begun.

—

this whole thing is based off the song would you fall in love with me again by jorge rivera-herrans, especially the last part of it. (no seriously. listened exactly 26 times while writing)

i’d love to write more about these universes! inbox is open.

i love my husband

This is so disheartening. Lmk who’s moving to Canada because we can rent a house all together!!!!

lili reinhart they could never make me hate you or even slightly dislike you 🤍

CHAPTER 8: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 2.8k

warning: Violence, mentions of blood, knives/stabbing.

---

Since the night of the hero gala, you and James had thrown yourselves headfirst into the Moretti investigation. The memory of that evening—the balcony, Bakugo’s wounded expression, and his retreating figure—played on an endless loop in your mind, but you shoved it down, burying it beneath layers of work and sleepless nights.

You’d left the gala alone, and since then, Bakugo had been a ghost. He didn’t show up at the gym during your usual hours, and you hadn’t dared to reach out. You figured he needed space, and honestly, you didn’t blame him. If he hated you, you deserved it. After all, you had rejected him in the cruelest way, withholding the truth under the guise of protecting him.

Now, every waking moment was devoted to unearthing the evidence you needed to take Moretti down. You told yourself it was for justice, for closure, but deep down, you knew it was also for Bakugo. You needed to make things right. To come clean, to apologize for the lies, and maybe, just maybe, to give him a reason to forgive you.

One long, grueling night, James managed to secure access to confidential Japanese case files—likely crossing a few legal boundaries in the process, but you didn’t care. Laws and rules seemed inconsequential when the only thing that mattered was unraveling the threads of Moretti’s web.

The files contained a chilling revelation. The man with the tattoo on his wrist—the one burned into your memory—was linked to a series of brutal murders in Musutafu. Innocent women, each life stolen with a message carved into the crime scenes that only you could understand. The weight of it crushed you, the realization that these killings weren’t random. They were warnings. Moretti was taunting you, forcing you to see his reach, his cruelty, and his power.

The guilt was suffocating. Every face in those files felt like another strike against your resolve, but you couldn’t let it break you. You wouldn’t. The pain was a reminder that you were on the right path, that you had a chance to end this. And now, finally, you had something to go on.

The new information gave you a flicker of hope —a trail of locations and timestamps where Moretti’s men had been sighted. It was the first solid lead you’d had in weeks, and it was enough to rekindle the fire inside you.

Your hero costume still fits like a second skin, the all-black material hugging your body with an almost suffocating precision. The suit’s sleek fabric molds to your frame, firm and supportive—like it’s designed just for you, like it was made to measure. You had always admired the way the costume looked, and now, years later, your vision seemed to reflect everything you had become: strong, sleek, and dangerous. The mask that covered your face didn’t leave much for anyone to see, except your eyes—piercing, determined eyes that told anyone in your path exactly who they were dealing with.

It’s been six long years since you last wore it. Six years of training, of staying hidden, of learning to control a power so dangerous you feared it more than anything. But tonight, slipping into the familiar black fabric and feeling it stretch over your body, you couldn’t help but feel that rush of energy surge through your veins. It never got old. The suit felt like home, like a part of you, and the weight of the mask reminded you of everything you had fought to become—and everything you had left behind.

As you pull on the gloves, the cool metal of your utility belt clicks against the fabric. You can’t help but admire the intricate stitching that runs along your waist, the design perfect down to the finest detail. The fabric is laced with minerals, rare and strong, designed to help control your quirk. The quirk that you never fully trusted.

Your quirk, gravity manipulation, gives you the power to shift and bend forces of weight, to manipulate objects, people, and even entire structures. It’s the kind of power that could move mountains or level them, depending on your emotions. When you’re calm, you have control—but when you’re upset, when anger and fear take hold, your quirk becomes a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. That’s what happened the night you blacked out and woke up with a bleeding head, unable to recall anything.

Training has made you cautious, teaching you to keep your emotions in check. Years of discipline and self-control have allowed you to control it, but you always feared that if you lost that control, everything would come crashing down. But tonight, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Tonight, you needed to keep your head.

After weeks of silence, you’d received a tip—a whisper on an old, secured landline that one of Moretti’s men would be at a bar tonight. The man was important, connected, and you needed to know where Moretti was. So you and James decided to follow the lead. He had urged you to involve the pros again, but you quickly shut that down. 

The car in the alleyway feels like a cage, your hands gripping the leather seats as you watch the shadows stretch across the pavement. The waiting game never gets easier. It gnaws at you, especially tonight, knowing that the man you’re hunting could be anywhere. Anxiety coils tight in your chest, the thought of confronting a ghost from your past, churning your stomach.

“How long have we been sitting here?” James asks from the passenger seat, his voice low but edged with a hint of impatience. His eyes flicker toward the bar’s entrance.

“Two hours,” you answer, your voice steady but the tension in your muscles betraying you. You’re not letting your nerves show, but inside, you feel like a coil ready to snap. “He won’t leave yet. We haven’t missed him.”

James glances at you, clearly unconvinced. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I can go with you.”

“No,” you say sharply, the word final. “I’ve got this.”

You stare at the bar’s entrance, your eyes narrowing. Isaac. The name rolls off your tongue like poison. Isaac, blonde-haired, with the face of a man who has seen too much. He was Moretti’s right hand for years, and you knew him all too well. His cold, calculating eyes never missed a thing, and his loyalty to Moretti was only rivaled by his ruthlessness.

Your instincts tingle. He’s here. You can feel it. A subtle weight in the air, the tension building in your bones. It’s like a sixth sense, honed from years of practice. You don’t know how you know, but you trust it.

Then, like clockwork, he steps out from the bar, his sharp profile cutting through the neon lights. He stands on the sidewalk for a moment, glancing around before shouting for a taxi.

Your heart pounds. This is it.

Without a word, you unlock the car door and slide out, ignoring James’s muttered warning. “YN, stop! Stay in the car!” His voice is laced with concern, but you don’t hear him. You’re already striding toward Isaac, your body moving with purpose.

Isaac doesn’t notice you at first, too busy fidgeting with his phone, but as soon as he slides into the cab, you’re there. You don’t hesitate. You pull open the door, stepping into the cab with a practiced fluidity that only someone like you can manage.

“Hey, this is my cab!” Isaac barks, but you don’t flinch.

You glance at the driver, your expression cold and unwavering. “We’re sharing,” you say smoothly, tossing a few bills into the front seat. “Take me up the block. Doesn’t matter where.”

The driver, clearly unbothered by the tense atmosphere, nods and shifts the car into drive. Isaac remains blissfully unaware, but that doesn’t last for long. You slide a knife from your belt, its cold steel glinting under the low lights.

“Say one word, and I’ll put this knife through your crotch,” you murmur, your voice laced with venom as you hold a knife to him. 

Isaac freezes, his gaze finally snapping to you. His eyes widen and the realization slowly dawns on him. Recognition flickers in his pupils, and you see the hate burn brighter.

“I always knew you were a crazy bitch.” Isaac hisses, his voice trembling with anger and fear.

“Yeah?” you reply, “well I’m about to get crazier.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but you’re faster. With a swift movement, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. You see the fire in his eyes, the stubborn defiance, but it won’t save him.

“Tell me where Moretti is,” you demand, your tone chilling. “Or I swear, I’ll cut you open right here.”

Isaac snarls. “Fuck you.”

“Okay” Taking the knife you pull it away and plunge it into his thigh, being careful to cover his mouth. 

“Tell me, Isaac,” you growl, “Or is that man-crush of yours so strong you’re willing to lose your dick over it?”

Isaac’s jaw clenches, his eyes flickering with defiance. “You want to know where Moretti is? Find him yourself. I don’t work for him anymore.”

“Bullshit.” You twist the blade deeper into his leg.

“Now fucking tell me, or I’ll send Moretti a gift next,” you hiss, your voice dripping with venom.

Isaac’s muffled whimpers are all you hear as you give him one last warning.

“Fine!” he gasps, “He’s staying at the Musutafu motel, on the outskirts of the city.”

“If you’re lying to me,” you warn, “I will kill you.”

He’s sweating now, breathing hard, his face pale as a ghost.

The cab pulls to a stop, and you yank the knife out of his leg, leaving a pool of blood behind. The driver, still unaware of the tension in the backseat, waits for your next command.

You exit without another word, tossing a few more bills toward the driver before slamming the door behind you. As the car pulls away, you spot a black SUV pulling up beside you. You don’t need to look twice to know who’s behind the wheel.

“Well?” Tucker asks, his voice steady but with an edge of impatience.

“He’s at the Musutafu motel,” you reply, your voice curt and emotionless. You slide into the car, the bloody knife still clutched in your hand.

Tucker notices the weapon, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t ask,” you mutter, slumping back into the seat. “Just drive.”

---

The crime rates had doubled in the past two weeks, ever since word of a serial killer leaked to the public. The Hero Committee had tried their best to keep the case under wraps, but someone in the department had let the information slip.

With the city spiraling into panic, the pro-heroes were stretched thin. So focused on this case, they’d nearly lost sight of everything else unraveling around them.

“Shoto, any updates on James Tucker?” Deku asked, standing at the head of the conference table. His fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, the telltale sign of an impending headache.

“Not yet,” Todoroki replied, flipping through a folder of old files. “The only intel I’ve managed to pull are outdated case records and images. If Tucker’s gone into hiding, it’s clear he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Why the hell would he be in hiding?” Bakugo snapped, slamming his hands against the table as he rose from his seat. Weeks of fruitless effort were taking their toll, and the tension in the room was palpable.

Bakugo had been more frustrated than usual lately, and everyone unlucky enough to cross his path could feel the searing heat of his anger. His temper, usually sharp and explosive, seemed to have an added edge now, as though something was festering beneath the surface. The smallest inconveniences sent him into a spiral of irritation—training dummies obliterated into smoldering debris, doors slammed with enough force to rattle the entire building, and curt, venom-laced words that made even his closest friends keep their distance.

At the agency, he barked orders more than usual, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. Kirishima, ever the peacemaker, tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, but Bakugo’s glare silenced him before the words could fully leave his mouth. Mina would whisper to Sero, “What crawled up his ass and died?” only to quickly clam up when Bakugo’s piercing crimson eyes flicked their way.

It wasn’t just work either—his frustrations followed him home. The gym became a battleground, weights clanging loudly as he threw himself into his workouts with a reckless intensity. The punching bag in the corner stood no chance, shredded after one particularly heated session. Yet no matter how much he pushed his body to its limits, the tension inside him never seemed to dissipate.

The truth was, Bakugo wasn’t just angry. He was hurt. And the wound festered deeper than he was willing to admit.

He hadn’t seen you since that night at the gala. Since you’d looked at him with those beautiful, unreadable eyes and told him—what, exactly? That he didn’t matter? That you didn’t feel the same way? It didn’t make sense. The way you looked at him didn’t match the words you said. The way your voice trembled, the way you avoided his gaze—it was like you were running from something. But what?

The questions plagued him, chasing him into his restless nights. He hated not having answers, hated how powerless he felt, hated how much space you were taking up in his head. Damn you. Damn your stupid, gorgeous face and your laugh and the way you felt so perfect next to him that night.

But more than anything, he hated the gnawing feeling in his chest. The one that whispered he might have lost you for good.

“Actually, Kacchan,” Deku interjected, sliding a photograph across the table toward him. “I might have something.”

Bakugo picked up the image, his crimson eyes narrowing as he examined it. The picture showed a young girl, no older than eight, with wide, curious eyes and a small, cautious smile.

“That’s Anthony Moretti’s daughter,” Deku explained. “We found her in an adoption database. She’s here in Japan.”

Bakugo’s eyes lingered on the photograph, his brow furrowing. There was something about the girl that tugged at his memory.

“I’ve seen her before,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“What? Where?” Deku asked, leaning forward.

“At the gym,” Bakugo replied, placing the photo back on the table. “Y/N is her boxing coach.”

The revelation sent a ripple of unease through the room.

“Who put her up for adoption?” Todoroki asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s anonymous. Adoption records don’t disclose that information,” Deku replied.

“How old was she when she was adopted?”

“She couldn’t have been older than two,” Deku said, flipping through his notes.

“Six years ago,” Bakugo muttered, piecing things together. “Right after Moretti was arrested.” He looked up, his gaze sharp. “What about her mom?”

“There’s no record of a mother,” Deku answered, his tone heavy.

“Dammit,” Bakugo growled, his frustration mounting. “We need to find Tucker. He’s the key to this.”

Todoroki chimed in, hesitant. “Maybe... maybe Y/N knows something about the girl. She might be able to help.”

“No,” Bakugo barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m not dragging her into this, and I sure as hell ain’t questioning a kid.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. Time was running out, and with every passing moment, the lines between their responsibilities and their morals blurred further.

“I’ll find Tucker myself if I have to. Got a photo, Icy Hot?” Bakugo demanded, his tone sharp with determination.

Todoroki flipped through his folder without hesitation, pulling out a slightly worn photograph of James Tucker and handing it to him.

Bakugo’s grip tightened around the photo as he stared at it, his blood running cold. His entire stance stiffened, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

He knew this man.

The realization hit him like a freight train, his mind reeling. He’d seen Tucker before—seen him with you.

Everything started falling into place, the fragmented pieces of the puzzle forming a picture that Bakugo could no longer ignore. The explosion. Moretti’s daughter. Tucker. You.

The timeline fit too perfectly to be a coincidence.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his crimson eyes narrowing as his thoughts raced. You were connected to Moretti—there was no doubt about that now. But how?

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh @faetoraa @iissza @theasgardianmexican

More photographs by Antoine Doyen for LA Times

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