Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou was five years old the first time he entered a church.
His father wasn’t really devout, so he usually didn’t have much to do with religious matters, but this was his niece’s baptism, and the man would be the godfather.
Katsuki was bored until something caught his attention.
When the midday sun shone through the stained-glass windows of the church, the small blonde was mesmerized by the beauty of the image projected.
It was the image of a person, with large white wings and the most beautiful face the child had ever seen. He didn’t know whether the figure was male or female, he only knew that he couldn’t stop staring at such a work of art.
When the baptism ceremony ended, Katsuki asked his father, “How can someone be so beautiful?” and Masaru explained that the image didn’t portray a person but an angel. A divine creation, built upon purity and benevolence, a genderless being whose beauty was granted by the very hand of God.
And Katsuki couldn’t help but feel amazed… He wanted to understand everything about these beings and their mysteries. He wanted to know where they came from, what they did, what it would feel like to touch one…
Masaru often joked that if he liked angels so much, maybe he should try behaving like one, since the little blonde was a walking ball of trouble.
What Masaru didn’t understand was that Katsuki didn’t want to be an angel… He wanted to break one.
The little blonde felt an immense desire to know what it would feel like to tear out those beautiful feathers.
He wanted to see if the immaculate face of the creature would look just as lovely covered in tears.
He wanted to find out if it would scream or whimper as Katsuki tore out strands of its precious hair.
And so, little by little, as the blonde grew, his obsession grew with him.
At nineteen, he found an internet forum where people shared their near-death experiences and discovered that angels were a common topic among those who claimed to have died and come back to life, or had been so close to death that they barely lived to tell the tale.
The blonde came to the conclusion that angels were the ones responsible for guiding people to the world of the dead, so he figured he just needed to be close enough when someone’s time came, and maybe then, he could catch one of those divine creatures.
On April 20th, his birthday, Katsuki invited a friend to celebrate with him.
He claimed he was feeling lonely since his father had to travel for work, and he wouldn’t have company on his special day. He convinced her not to tell anyone… “Whatever happens will be our little secret,” he had said with a suggestive tone.
And Camie, a small blonde with a pretty face and a sensual body, gladly accepted. The idea of being alone with Katsuki had her over the moon, for it was no secret to anyone that she had been infatuated with him since their early high school years.
By nightfall, the blonde arrived at Katsuki’s house in a beautiful white dress that accentuated her curves and hugged all the right places.
And Katsuki couldn’t help but think she would look much prettier when he adorned her with details in red.
The music played loudly, and after a couple of drinks, the girl became truly annoying—though much easier to handle.
When the blonde got close enough, Katsuki decided it was time to receive his birthday gift.
He grabbed the girl by the waist, guiding her to straddle him. Katsuki sighed as she began kissing his neck, his large hands running up and down her back, caressing her while playing with the hair at her nape.
And when Camie caught Katsuki’s lips in hers, he took the chance to grab the knife he had placed under the cushion of the couch they were on.
He kissed her passionately and smiled into the kiss as he firmly gripped her blonde hair with one hand while, with the other, he plunged the sharp instrument right into the center of her small back.
The girl let out a painful whimper that Katsuki quickly swallowed with his lips, then proceeded to pull out the knife and stab it again and again, never once breaking the kiss.
And when the girl in his lap stopped moving completely, Katsuki stayed there, tracing lines of blood with his fingers from one wound to another, never letting her slip from his legs, waiting—hoping—to be close enough when the angel arrived… But it never happened.
He waited all night without moving from the couch, and when all warmth left the lifeless body atop him, the sun was already peeking through his window, and disappointment lodged itself in his chest—like the very blade he had used the night before.
•••
Six months had passed since his twentieth birthday, and the blonde had not stopped planning his next move.
The advantage of being openly antisocial was that no one would ever think the missing blonde girl could have been with him. Everyone at university, and even in his neighborhood, knew that he despised company and was definitely not open to any kind of relationship—least of all with Camie, who could be a bit annoying at times.
Disposing of the body wasn’t as difficult as one might think. He simply froze it for a few days, then cut it up with the wood saw his father kept in the garage and scattered the pieces across different parts of the city, burying them inside bags filled with lime to ensure that the stench and decomposition wouldn’t become an issue.
After the failure of his birthday and the disappointment of not getting any results, Katsuki had made it his mission to erase all evidence. And as he cleaned up the mess that had formed in his living room, an idea came to him.
Maybe it wasn’t about being close to someone who was dying—but about being close to his own death.
And so, the blonde began his new plan… If killing someone wasn’t the answer, then trying to kill himself just might be the right solution…
That was it. He would just have to use his own body next time.
•••
He got himself a cozy little house in a somewhat secluded area outside the city. His father, thrilled by the idea of Katsuki wanting to be independent, helped him with the property payment, leaving the blonde responsible only for basic utilities.
What he loved most about the house with a garden was the basement. Unlike the upper rooms, it was spacious and wide—perfect for storing large objects, tools, and maybe… a pet.
The blonde found himself obligated to take a basic nursing course, using the excuse that he wanted to expand his résumé. It wasn’t too far from his real field of study, after all—psychology was still a branch of medicine, right?
But the truth was, Katsuki needed to know how to stitch himself up, how to administer first aid without needing anyone else.
After much effort and planning, he could finally say that everything was ready for his second attempt.
During the nursing course, he had stolen enough supplies to heal himself without ever having to go to a pharmacy or leave his house at all.
He ended up buying a futon, which he set up in the basement. He also purchased a pair of heavy-duty reinforced security chains—and even a nice dog bowl.
It took him almost two months to finish soundproofing the basement by himself, and by the time all the details were in place, there were only two days left until his next birthday.
It amused him. He hadn’t planned it this way—preparations had simply taken longer than expected—but it made him feel somewhat nostalgic. So he decided to wait a couple more days, making his big move on the anniversary of his first attempt.
And when the day finally arrived, the blonde bought two bottles of rum and a couple of "magic" cigarettes—the kind he smoked when he needed to let go of his stress.
He knew that if he didn’t execute everything perfectly, things could go terribly wrong, and it wouldn’t just be a matter of cleaning up some blood and cutting up a few pieces.
He turned on the radio and finally sat down on his couch… Yes, the same one his father had agreed to give him, since Katsuki had said it was full of "beautiful memories."
He opened the bottle of rum and took a deep swig, unbothered by the burning sensation in his throat. Then, he lit the cigarette, bringing it to his lips while his free hand reached for the small black knife he had placed on the coffee table in front of him.
The blonde let out a low chuckle, remembering the first time he had done all of this. He took a long drag from the cigarette and settled more comfortably on the couch, exhaling the smoke as he began tracing a small line from the base of his left palm, deepening the cut as he reached the center of his wrist. Katsuki gritted his teeth when the blood started to flow in heavy streams, a lost smile spreading across his face between the haze of smoke and the lyrics playing in the background.
»I'm everything they said I would be«
He pressed the blade deeper—he needed a clean cut if he wanted to reach his goal.
»Before you let go, just one more time
Take off your clothes, pretend that it's fine«
Blood was soaking his lap and most of the couch now, and the air was growing thicker.
»A little more hurt won't kill you
Tonight, mother says, 'You don't look happy'«
His head started to spin, his vision blurring slightly… Katsuki chuckled under his breath.
»Close your eyes
I know that you're wrong for me
Gonna wish we never met on the day I leave«
"It’s close, I can feel it," he thought. "But I have to stay alert, or it might slip away."
»I brought you down to your knees
'Cause they say that misery loves company'«
A strong scent of burning wood began to overpower the bitter aroma of the cigarette, now discarded somewhere on the floor. The blonde clenched his wounded hand with the last bit of strength his right arm could muster. His eyes widened just a little more, and a triumphant shiver ran down his spine when a fascinating figure rose before him.
»It's not your fault I ruin everything
And it's not your fault I can't be what you need«
"Come with me, stray fawn, and let me guide your path back to the refuge of your Father..."
The creature's voice was melodic and soft, almost like a song. And for a moment, Katsuki let himself drift in the fog of wonder and blood loss clouding his thoughts.
And when the great white wings spread, and the angel reached out a hand toward him, the blonde only smiled.
»Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me.«
•••
Katsuki took the angel’s hand, but instead of letting himself be led away, he yanked it down with all his strength. Fueled by a rush of adrenaline, he surged forward, grabbing the creature by the neck and slamming it against the oak coffee table where the knife had been moments ago.
The angel writhed, both hands clutching at Katsuki’s wrist in a desperate attempt to free itself, but it was as if his touch burned. Katsuki lifted it again and crashed it back down onto the wood, reveling in the sickening crack that he assumed was the angel’s skull beginning to fracture.
He raised it once more, this time holding it suspended in the air for a brief moment, indulging in the sight of what was, without a doubt, the most beautiful and perfect being he had ever seen. "You and I are going to be great friends," he murmured before slamming it down with all his might once again.
And when the creature finally fell unconscious before him, Katsuki collapsed onto the couch once more.
With swift hands, he grabbed the small medical kit he had stashed under the seat and wasted no time tending to his wound.
His head swam now that the last remnants of adrenaline had drained from his body, and he knew he had to hurry. He quickly disinfected the wound with hydrogen peroxide-soaked gauze, gritting his teeth as he pressed the red-hot needle into his skin to stitch himself up.
As he bandaged his arm, his gaze occasionally flickered to the motionless figure before him, as if his brain still couldn’t fully comprehend that it was real.
Now that he had a closer look, Katsuki was genuinely surprised—it wasn’t at all as he had imagined.
It had no sleek golden hair, no flawlessly pale, perfect skin, nor small, gleaming white feathers adorning delicate wings.
No, the creature before him had a thick mass of curls in shades of green, black, and emerald that tumbled over its forehead and down the nape of its neck.
It had beautiful freckles scattered across its skin, which, far from being porcelain-pale, had a golden hue—like a sun-kissed glow.
The halo atop its head wasn’t golden, nor did it float as depicted in church paintings. Instead, it appeared to be an extension of its skull, a twisted bone structure that emerged from one side of its nape, arched over its head in a circular form, and connected to the other side.
And its wings… God, its wings were the best part. Enormous and breathtaking, white as milk and so densely feathered that Katsuki imagined they must be incredibly heavy.
After a minute of resting, allowing the fog in his brain to clear, Katsuki rose from the couch and scooped the creature into his arms, carrying it toward what would be its new home.
It was heavier than he had expected—or maybe he was just too weak from the blood loss.
As he descended the stairs, he kept glancing at the angel’s face, still struggling to believe that the more he looked, the more beautiful it became.
Its long lashes were green and curled, just like the hair that framed its face. And its lips, so pink and plush, stirred thoughts in Katsuki’s mind—thoughts that had never made it onto his list before.
He laid it down onto the futon he had prepared earlier and used the reinforced chains he had embedded in the floor to secure its ankles.
Once it was fully restrained, Katsuki allowed himself a closer look, trailing his fingers slowly over the angel’s skin, which, even in unconsciousness, seemed to shiver beneath his touch.
And, in an attempt to see more, he busied himself with removing the pristine tunic covering that beautiful body—only to find that the freckles weren’t just on its face. No, they adorned every inch of its form.
A body that, to Katsuki, was beyond words.
He couldn’t quite understand what he was seeing.
The chest, though flat like a man’s, still bore a strikingly delicate shape. Or perhaps it was the slender waist and wide hips that gave that impression.
Katsuki ran his hands over the freckled abdomen, tracing the sculpted lines that, in a human, could only be achieved through an intense workout regimen. Then, his fingers wandered down to those broad hips, traveling further down to thick, firm thighs.
And once there, he couldn’t resist giving them a firm squeeze with his good hand, reveling in the divine sensation of plush skin beneath his fingers.
But when he reached the best part, he knew—his father had been wrong. The scriptures had lied.
Because nestled between those beautiful, freckled thighs, Katsuki found a tiny, delicate friend—so small and pink that it reminded him of those strange fics he had once stumbled upon, the ones where small, delicate men could give birth.
He could spend all night exploring, but the pounding in his head and the shortness of breath in his lungs reminded him that he needed to finish treating himself first. A blood transfusion to replenish his plasma, some food to stabilize his body.
So, begrudgingly, Katsuki leaned down over the unconscious creature on the futon. With a smirk, he placed a soft, almost chaste kiss against the angel’s forehead.
And as he climbed the stairs, he reminded himself—there was no rush.
After all, now he had all the time in the world to learn everything about his new pet.
•••