Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou was having a regular day after intense training at UA. He knew he was going to be the number one hero.
Deku was still pathetic and could barely punch anything without breaking his hand like a moron.
The other extras? No guts. No drive. No power. They were weak, unmotivated assholes that didn’t even know what it took to be a hero.
Bakugou was different. He would win because he knew what mattered, and was the only person that could do it right.
Yeah, people would yap about his anger issues and some would call him temperamental. But maybe, If they’d stop being such fucking idiots, maybe they wouldn’t need him to carry the whole damn class.
He was fucking Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Not a pathetic weak extra.
One Thursday, he was on a roof top, eating some mapo tofu, minding his own damn business and took a nap when he finished. Then, out of fucking nowhere in kicked in the head off the ledge by an idiot coward.
The second his head hit the pavement, everything went black—then annoyingly fancy.
He fell head first straight to the ground and next thing he knew he was waking up in some shitty ass bed, wearing silk pajamas.
“Draco! You're going to be late for classes. Get up, mate!” Some extra shouted at him.
“ Tch, Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, asshole?” Bakugou snarled, “and what the fuck is with stupid-ass fancy voice?! Goddamn it, what the hell is going on here? Why is everything so fancy?”
“Draco, you alright?” The extra asked, “You’re acting weird.”
“Tch. Better than you, extra,” he snapped, “you wearing a bathrobe over your clothes.”
“What the hell?”
The random person leaned in to appraise Bakugou.
“Why the hell are you so close to my face?!” Bakugou shouted.
“Because I can’t tell if you’re a prick with polyjuice or if my best mate has lost his bloody mind!” The boy shouted back.
“Why are you asking about the blood in my head?!” Bakugou screamed.
“Because it’s 10 in the fucking morning on the third day of class and your pinched arse is still in bed looking at me like I’ve gone mad for wearing my goddamn robes!” The extra exclaimed, “Have you been potioned, Draco?! That it?!”
“Tch. I’m not mad you're in a bathrobe, I think you’re crazy and who the hell is DRACO? That’s a dumbass name!” Bakugou retorted, his blood boiling for how stupid everything was.
“Wait, what?” The boy pulled back, brows furrowed. After a beat, he said, “I’m Blaise Zabini. What’s your name?”
“Tch. Why do you care?” Bakugou scoffed.
“What?” Blaise asked, “I’m trying to help you? What do you mean why do I care? Who are you?”
There was a banging on the door and a gross slobbery voice shouted, “Oi, Where’s Malfoy at?”
Blaise took out a pathetic stick and said, “Petrificus Totalis.”
In an instant, Bakugou couldn’t move. He tried to thrash and scream, but he was paralyzed.
What kind of bullshit was that?
Before he knew it some pathetic extras were hoisting him into their fat arms, and carrying through some kind of creepy ass castle. There was flying shit, fires, holographic painting and robotic stairs. Nothing made any sense, he was still in his damn pajamas and nobody had given him any answers.
The next thing he knew he was laid on a stupid cot, in a stupid med bay, surrounded by fucking morons who were babbling to a useless nurse.
What the hell was going on?