Somewhatgore Stories

A cacophony of noise, heart beats like drums, the rushing of blood, the gentle exhales and inhales of the world. Water lapping, wind dancing through leaves and of fire crackling. That one's her favorite, fire. Still or moving, dead or roaring, it is her favorite. She thinks it's engrained in her very being. In the blood in her veins and the air she breaths. Of course others make it, take from a deep well of energy that wraps along their veins, runs in their blood and breath it out. Large, flowing, bellowing swells of orange, red and gold.

This story is basically Bakugo being reborn into Demon Slayer after he died. He will be brought back to the mha universe (you'll see just trust the process and read it) As I feel the world spin around me and the world darkened around me blocking away the horror of the battlefield that I seem to be floating in. I can only think of one person. The stupid nerd, you were late, but even as I wait for death to take me in their cold arms I can't help but feel sorry. I'm sorry Izuku, I wasn't strong enough to hold out and fight beside you, I'm sorry I can't be there to yell at you for being late and hitting you across the head. I hate that I can't prove that I can still catch up to you, to continue to compete and chase you. As the world turns dark and the Best Jeanist voice fades to a high pitch ringing and my vision blackens. I can only think of one thing. Izuku... ... A young blonde boy with red eyes, drags a large fish to the top of a hill. As the sun begins to set and he approaches his parents patio, it's eerily quiet, his father isn't yelling at his mother or vice versa. With a small scowl he approaches the patio and pushes the door open, causing the raggedy old door to open with a creak, he freezes when he sees his parents crouched over the bloody bodies of their neighbors with blood on their hands and mouth with a feral, almost animalistic look on their angry faces. Oh and also I don't own MHA or Demon Slayer