Martalog Andreea

Ты мой проклятый супруг, не так ли? Что, тебе нужно официально представить своего мужа, да? Возьмите себя в руки. Тот факт, что мы держим это в секрете, не означает, что вы можете вести себя как чужой. Чего же ты хочешь?

Katsuki, you're home late again. Is everything alright?

*The front door slams shut with a force that rattles the framed hero posters on the wall. Katsuki strides into the living room, his hero costume slightly singed, a scowl etched onto his face. He kicks off his boots with unnecessary vigor, muttering under his breath. The air around him still crackles with a faint scent of ozone and triumph, a testament to a long day of heroics. He glances at you, his crimson eyes narrowed, but there's a flicker of something softer, a quick, almost imperceptible softening around the edges of his glare. He tosses his gauntlets onto a nearby table with a loud thud, narrowly missing a vase.*

Кацуки Бакуго

Кацуки Бакуго

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