Hello Everyone! Thank you so much for your patience!
We did receive a lot of requests regarding the poker set, so here is our Interest Form/ Sign up sheet to gauge how many are guaranteed to buy the poker set.
Because we’ll do our best to deliver them by Christmas, this survey will be up until October 22, 2018.
(ONE WEEK)
Please answer this survey if you’re sure that you plan to get the poker set. We want to make sure that we are able to launch a successful project
without further ado, here is the general sign up sheet:
I tried to put it all together without compromising the quality, so the comic dont end up looking like shit like the las time, but Tumblr its against it so this time two post XD (Its going to be all together in weebtoons later so dont worry my little otters xD)
: What are you supposed to do when you’re dead friend is suddenly standing before you? : cursing, someone getting hit, mention of murder? : 2008 /: not my best work but o well….yeah also there’ll probably be part 2 to this
This wasn’t how Bakugou wanted his Friday night to turn out. He was supposed to come how to a quiet place. Silence and tranquillity enveloping him as he let himself fall onto the plush cushions of his couch. Maybe there would be a warm meal waiting for him if he was lucky. He could finally let his worn-out muscles take a break from the constant stress they’re under.
Something must have gone wrong somewhere. Or else he wouldn’t be here, standing before a mocking bunny mask. Floppy fabric ears and blood-stained cheeks staring back at him. The sewn-on grin seems to scream ‘punch me’.
“What thefuck are you doing here?” he snarls. He grits his teeth while trying to keep his explosions at bay.
The bunny simply tilts their head as they stay silent. Their long limbs seem to move spiderlike as their body turns. Bakugou’s eyes following their movement.
No. Shit. Fuck. The bunny tilts his head towards the other side as they snag a photo frame from the coffee table. Pointy fingers glide over the glass, lingering on a specific person in the picture.
Bile starts to rise in Bakugou’s throat. Its acidic bitterness only seems to light the fire to his aggression even more.
“Who the fuck are you?”. It’s useless, he knows. Like hell, a villain like ’The Bunny’ will just give up their identity. The silence is killing Bakugou. His nerves on edge and his muscles rippling as he struggles to constrain himself.
He lifts his hands, an explosion already blooming out of his palm. He is ready to blast whoever this might be into bits.
“That’s no way to treat your friends,” a distorted voice says. Great, so this bastard can speak. Bakugou opens his mouth, about to yell their ears of but a simple word shuts him up.
“Kacchan.”. His hand drops to his side his mouth hangs agape. He had dreamed of this moment. Fantasised about the moment he could apologize and hug his friend. He had planned out exactly what he would say. What he’d do, how he’d act. But this wasn’t in the plan.
The bunny’s pointy fingers come up to its face before ripping the mask off. A mop of green hair springs out from underneath. “Cat caught your tongue?” he asks mockingly before running those same fingers through his hair.
“How..”. Bakugou’s throat fails on him. His voice stops working. Is he crying? He wants to tell himself he’s not but he’s honestly not sure anymore. Knees buckling underneath him yet he still manages to keep himself standing up.
“How am I still alive?” Izuku finishes for him. He casts the mask aside, throwing it on the floor before letting his body fall onto the couch, the same couch Bakugou planned to rest on. He lazily drapes his arms over the top of it.
The casualness of his movements mocks Bakugou. As if he isn’t Japan’s most wanted criminal sitting on Japan’s number one hero’s couch.
“Everyone always asks that, you know?” he says he glances down at the picture frames he’s still holding. “It’s getting old.”. He lazily runs his finger over the glass.
“You died. I buried you. Inko fucking mourned you, she still does,” Bakugou says. His voice wavers and he hates himself for it. He’s showing weakness.
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to fake a death,” Izuku says.
Bakugou’s red eyes bore into his green ones. A silence hangs between them. It feels almost surreal to Bakugou. His mind hasn’t caught up to the fact that his friend, or rather ex-friend, is sitting before him and isn’t six feet underground.
While Bakugou’s movements are ragged and forced, Izuku almost seems comical. His body has seemed to adapt to his villainous life. A theatrical elegance laced into his movements.
“I don’t see you as a friend anymore,” he breaks out. Izuku’s eyes grow for a second and so does his smile. He straightens his back as he silently urges Bakugou on to speak.
“I buried my friend,” he says. “You’re not him. You might think you’re him but you’re not. He isn’t this pathetic.” He grits his teeth before lifting his hands again, getting ready to swing at him. Izuku quickly jumps up from the couch.
His eyes glint in mischief as he takes in the sight before him. “Oh, looks like you still haven’t dealt with your anger, Kacchan.”.
The nickname sets him off. He storms towards the green-haired man, fists raised and palms crackling from explosions. That is until he hears a familiar sound.
Both of them look towards the front door. Bakugou’s face slacks with shock while Izuku’s lights up with excitement. This isn’t supposed to happen. Why is this happening?
Izuku quickly moves the kick his mask underneath the couch before he places the picture frame back. Bakugou eyes linger on the picture for a second. It’s one of the three of you. Bakugou squished in between you and Izuku, his fingers raised behind both of your head to give you bunny ears. Oh, if he could just turn back time.
“'Suki?” you call out. Bakugou fears for his life, or rather, yours. Who knows what the crazed psychopath standing before him will do. “I thought I’d swing by and-”.
Your words stop as you walk into the living room. The bags in your hands drop. Soup spills out of the containers you so meticulous packed. Bright orange curry stains the spotless carpet beneath it. The hot liquid splashes up against your leg, most likely burning your skin though you don’t care.
You try to speak, mouthing opening and closing like a fish. This must be a dream, one of those horrible nightmares Kirishima often gets. That is until a familiar wobbly voice reaches your ears.
“Hi,bunny,” Izuku says. Within a second, he has closed the space between you. Your arms wrap around him instinctively. It’s an awkward hold. You used to be able to rest your chin on his head. Now, his muscled body towers over yours.
“Y-You’re…You’redead,” you whisper against his chest while nuzzling your cheek into him. His body heat seems to bring you a type of peace you haven’t known of in years.
“I know, I know,” he says while running his hands over your back. Sobs break out of your chest as your emotions seem to flow over. Salty rivers running past your burning cheeks and dripping into Izuku’s musky hoodie.
Your body shakes as you grab onto Izuku, painfully so. You’re sure you’re going to leave bruises on his sickly pale skin yet you can’t bring yourself to care. The aching in your chest that you’ve suppressed for years finally seems to boil over.
Hot and heavy emotions spill into your mind. You aren’t sure if the salty taste in your mouth is from biting your lip until blood gushes out of it or the tears streaming down uncontrollably. You’re sure that you look like a mess. Tears and snot dripping down your chin.
Instead of trying to see through your tear-blurred vision, you burry your face further into your friend’s chest.
He’s dead or at least supposed to be. You buried him, cried at his funeral and went through grief for him.
Yet here he is, in the flesh. His voice still sounds the same. He still smells the same. But he is not the same boy you knew years ago. His smile isn’t the same. And his scarred hands sure aren’t the same. Everything about him is the same, yet slightly different, giving you a mental whiplash.
“You have some fucking explaining to do,” Bakugou says. His voice breaks you out of your trance. You pull away from Izuku, your body immediately screaming in protest. You look up at him. It feels strange, you used to be at least a head taller than him
“How the fuck are you still alive?”. Bakugou doesn’t have time for nicknames or formality. Not when he knows that the man standing before him has the blood of at least a hundred on his hands.
Izuku steps away from you, unwinding his arms from your body. Bakugou quickly strides over and pulls you away from the offending man. He pushes you behind him while one hand still grips onto your arm. You want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing but Izuku starts talking before you can.
“It’s a long story,” he says. “Can’t tell you everything but, long story short, I had to fake my death. Some guys were after me but it’s all fixed now!”. The vagueness mixed with his eerie smile only makes him look more like a psychopath.
“All fixed? All-fucking-fixed?”. Boiling anger rising to Bakugou’s head, clouding his thinking. He taking quick steps up to his ex-friend. Izuku doesn’t even flinch when Bakugou grabs onto his neck tightly. “You left. Fucking made us think you’re dead and you think you can just come in and say that everything is fixed?”.
Spit flies out of his mouth and lands on Izuku’s cheek, a shiver of disgust running over his spine at the feeling. Yet the green-haired man can’t stop the excitement from bubbling up at seeing his friend so rilled up.
“Bakugou, Jesus fuck, calm down,” you say. This situation should probably feel more serious than it is. Yet the shock still evident in your body and the adrenaline clouding your mind makes you unable to properly process it all.
“Like hell, I’ll calm down!”. Bakugou finally lets go of Izuku’s throat. A set of cough falls out of the green-haired man’s throat. He smirks as he glances down at the aggressive blond.
“Come on, Kacchan, we shouldn’t do this in front of our little bunny,” Izuku says with a smirk. The gears finally seem to click in his mind. Suddenly, the bunny mask, the name, the costume, it all makes sense.
“You sick fuck!” Bakugou yells before landing a hit square on Izuku’s jaw. He stumbles back a bit, taken aback at Bakugou’s sudden outburst. The blond takes the opportunity to land another punch right on his nose.
A wet crunch sounds through the room. You cringe as you feel bile rise in your throat from the sound. “Izuku!” you yell out as you try to get to your friend or ex-friend, you’re not sure.
Bakugou stops you thought, his arms wrapping around your body and spinning you away from the green-haired freak. You pound your hand on his arms pleading with him to let you go but your ministrations do nothing to the number one hero.
Izuku laughs as he wipes away the blood dripping from his nose, tainting the grimy grey of his hoodie with it. “You’re gonna regret that, Kacchan,” he says. Bakugou doesn’t even give him the light of day as he makes his way out of his apartment with light speed
Your throat grows dry and painful as you plead Bakugou to let you. To let you go to him. “It’s okay, he’s gone,” Bakugou says.
You shake your head violently as you claw at his back, trying to get his arms to loosen their hold. “I need to see him. I gotta-I gotta see him. Suki,please!”. The hoarseness of your voice shoots painful stabs into Bakugou’s heart.
But he doesn’t let his mind linger too long, running down the stairs two steps at a time. All he can focus on is getting you away from that creep before he can touch you again.
“Please, I can’t leave him again,” you sob out. Bakugou simply lays on hand on the back of your head, pulling you even closer to him. Thankfully he doesn’t see Izuku following behind him.
“Please, not again,” you say before your voice bursts out in sobs again. Fuck, how much Bakugou wants to blast that fuckers skull in. He’s sure his friends at the police force wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye for him. But that’ll have to wait until later. Now he needs to focus on keeping you safe, safe from him.
