The Brave Men Rode Them

Allies

"Today is about teamwork," he hears Aizawa call from above the mess of green gas swirling through the arena. Katsuki snorts under his breath; after the fucking mess he made of the Razorwhip training, none of those fuckers want to work on a team with him--especially not Ochako, who was fucking livid. Luckily (or fucking unluckily, he's not sure yet), he's partnered with the shitnerd, of all people, who for some reason still thinks they're friends or some shit. "Work together, and you might survive. A wet dragon head can't light its fire, but Zipplebacks are a little more difficult. One head breathes gas, the other lights it."

"Razor-sharp serrated teeth that inject venom for predigestion," Deku breathes, standing back-to-back with him and muttering as-fucking-usual. "Prefers ambush attacks, crushing victims in---"

"Shut the fuck up, Deku!"

"A-ah, okay!"

He hears Kirishima's shout of "there!" and whirls around, teeth bared and wary, only to hear cursing from Ochako and Dark Shadow's indignant squawking. Looks like it wasn't fucking "there" after all, he thinks vindictively, tensing as a hissing noise fills the air. There are matching yelps and sounds of splashes, and he presumes that two more recruits have just fallen to the Zippleback.

Which leaves him and fucking Deku. Of course.

"Chances of survival are dwindling," Deku mutters, and for once he's inclined to agree.

A warbling hiss echoes, and Katsuki stiffens in response. "Watch it," he growls, tightening his hold on the bucket. Aizawa had been very fucking clear: no Quirks. What with the dwindling numbers of people who actually fuckin' had the things, they needed to test measures of dragon-fighting without superpowers.

Or they could just try fucking training them, but he knows damn well that that isn't gonna happen.

One of the heads, this one a dusky purple-gray, snakes out of the smoke, another hiss following. It clacks its jaw eagerly and Katsuki furrows his brow irritably at it. He's faced down (and ridden the motherfucking tail of) a fucking Night Fury. This little shit, scary as it appears, is probably nothing but a big, destruction-loving softie.

'Course, he can't fucking train it with these idiots here either. He watches Deku water the wrong head before getting blasted more of that fucking gas and be declared "out".

And then he's left with the fucking Zippleback.

Its other head, this one more blue-ish than grayish, sweeps out of the fog, a hiss rattling its throat (these fuckers sure hiss a lot) as sparks crackle in its mouth. He hears Aizawa shout "Now!", but he doesn't move.

He has an idea.

Katsuki deliberately hurls the water and misses, dropping the bucket confidently to the ground. There's no one else here and he has the fading gas as a smokescreen--it's too fucking perfect for words. He opens his vest, revealing the eel, and the very dragon that was advancing on him moment ago halts, recoiling.

Fuck yes! He makes a mental note that eels are an efficient weapon against dragons and decides that he's going to nail one to his mom's door to keep their house from burning down again. "Yeah, fucker, get back," he commands, and it steps back with a frightened shriek. "That's right, back the hell up!" Slowly but surely, he pushes it into its pen again. "Good boy," he mutters under his breath, and it gives him a surprised look. "Sorry about this shit." He raises his voice again, pulling out the eel. "Now think about what you've done..."

It scrambles to get away from the fish as he tosses it onto the ground, flushed from his victory---who knew that a fucking nonviolent win could feel so damn satisfying?--and shuts the pen. When he turns, he sees every single one of them, slack-jawed and in awe.