᪥𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕦 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤᪥

KIRIBAKU WEEK #1-The Trojan Horse

HAPPY KIRIBAKU WEEK!!! I know this doesn't follow the prompt list but I forgot about it so I'll start with the prompts tomorrow. Thanks to Bakugos_Thighs for the idea!! ALSO, to you and to everyone else who asked for this, I hope I did you proud lol. Enjoy :3

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~Bakugo's POV~

I was fading in and out of consciousness. The feeling in my arms and legs was slowly fading away and the gushing wound in my side only seemed to be getting worse. My lungs were full of dust and the only things I could hear were footsteps and screams.

Then I heard something new.

"What should we do with him? He shouldn't be this close to the battle," a muffled voice said.

"Why not kill him? He doesn't seem like he'll be missed—"

"No," the third voice boomed, cutting off the second speaker, "Bring him to my room,"

Then I blacked out.

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I woke up with a headache and a shit ton of confusion. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and sat up slowly, holding back a wince. The pain in my side was still there and noticeable, but it hurt a whole lot less.

As I pulled the covers back I noticed that my wound was bandaged tightly. The light scent of lavender and vanilla and the dim lighting of the large room made for a perfect setting to go over what the fuck just happened to me.

General Aizawa sent me to the front lines to deliver a message to one of our best soldiers on the front lines, Deku.

Some prick skewered me in my side and nearly killed me, but Deku dragged me away from the battle. I could only guess I was back at the battle fortress now, but this place doesn't look very familiar.

I clenched my fist as I thought about how Deku had to save me. About how I was nothing but an errand boy to the whole army.

I could've saved myself. I could be a hero if they'd let me.

I shook the thoughts away and continued looking around. The more I looked, the more I realized that this wasn't a recovery room for a solider.

This is a bedroom.

I got out of the large bed immediately and looked around desperately for my clothes, ignoring how much I missed the silky sheets and trying to decide whether I should just leave or wait for someone to come get me.

After finding my blood-stained toga on a table by the door and putting it on, I looked around for my gold jewelry.

I searched the room for a while, and upon not finding it I cursed every god I could remember off of the top of my head. Just to paint a picture, it's a lot.

In Troy, jewelry represented status. Every man, woman, and child wore jewelry if they could afford it.

Without it, you're nothing but a slum. A poor beggar to be pitied upon by the public.

I am not a beggar and I do not need pity. Especially from assholes like Deku and Aizawa who think they're better than me.

"What're you looking for?" said a man who now stood in the door.

He looked about my age and had bright yellow hair. His face was completely blank as he leaned against the doorway and looked me up and down.

"Um... the rest of my stuff," I answered, turning my body towards him.