🌿🏔Snake Eyes🏔🌿

I fell in love with @silverdragon545 serpent Bakugou, and she very kindly let me write a fic based off of him.

CW’s as I go, but for now there will be monster fucking and ovi in the future 😈

All characters are also 18+

NSFW, 18+ 🔞

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚
Kirishima was going to befriend that raccoon.

Even if it was the last thing he did.
For the last 3 years, since he’d inherited his grandfathers’ cabin, he’d been working his little booty off for 8 months of the year as a personal trainer, just so he could spend the summers up there in the mountains.
It was his haven. It was beautiful, isolated in a good way – he could still get to town easily enough to get his groceries and his Friday night treat pizza. It was an hour round trip, but that didn’t matter because his drive home was a smooth,—
—windy track, trees lined either side as if in greeting and once you stepped out that back door, the time it took to get to the cabin was all worth it once you laid eyes on the view akin to that of a desktop screensaver.
Rolling mountains with snowy peaks, white fluffy clouds like halos around them. They seemed so small, lining his skyline, but Eijiro knew better.
He knew those peaceful giants were treacherous, exclusive, keeping to their own and there was something so grounding knowing he had unchartered territory right on his doorstep.
The mountains and hills surrounded him, enclosing his backyard like guardians and protecting his second favorite wilderness feature.

The lake.

Crystal clear in the shallows, the large lake reflected the mountains and trees around, doubling the beauty into an upside-down world.
When he was younger and would spend his summer vacations with his grandfather, they would spend hours in that lake fishing. His grandfather would tell him stories of the monsters that lived in the murky deep, where the lake dropped and the crystal shallows became an abyss.
They would have whatever they caught for dinner too, and if they were unsuccessful they’d have cheese and ham sandwiches.
He still had the boat, it had seen better days, he planned to fix it up along with the pier that ran from the footpath leading down the porch steps to several metres into the water, beyond where the clear shallows dropped off.

It was perfect. So perfect.
Except for that fucking raccoon.
The first year not much happened, a few socks and pieces of underwear disappearing off his clothesline. Nothing too suspicious, at the time he just assumed the wind had taken them off somewhere.
Sometimes his trash cans had been knocked over, which was a little annoying because nothing seemed to have been rummaged through or taken.

The raccoon just wanted to be an arsehole and make a mess, apparently.

But that was it really for the first summer.
The second summer, Kirishima brought some outdoor furniture, but a week in he noticed the wooden legs had been chewed and the ash from the fire pit smeared all over his porch.

It almost looked like writing.

It almost looked like something had drawn a giant cock and balls.
More clothes were pinched too, t-shirts, pillowcases, items big enough to miss. He lost his favourite crimson riot tee in the assault to his washing line. But that could have been bears, right?

By the third summer, the raccoon was getting a bit more ballsy.
Kirishima went for a swim in the lake one afternoon and when he got out, he found all his clothes to be missing. Little raccoon-y paws had pinched them straight off the pier!

Could raccoons even swim?
Although, a week into arriving back at the cabin on the fourth summer, Kirishima came to realise it probably wasn’t a raccoon.
“What the
” He’d only just stepped through his front door when he promptly dropped the shopping bags he’d been holding, a stray orange rolling across the floor.
The cabin wasn’t huge, mostly open plan; the front door led straight into the roomy living area, a stone fireplace on the far left wall, a reasonably sized kitchen at the back, separated by a thick breakfast bar.
To the right were the two bedrooms, a bathroom sat between. From where he stood at the entrance mat, he could see the entire place, bar the rooms to his right, and then straight through to the back door which was, yep, hanging off its hinges.

The room was trashed.
His damn /sofa/ was on its back, his TV on the floor, his fridge pulled out of its place between the counters and the contents strewn and smeared across the tiles.
Kirishima promptly ran to his room, finding his dresser and wardrobe open, the contents there too pulled out and thrown everywhere. His bed was a mess, the duvet /gone/. He was only left with one fucking pillow!
He’d been robbed, and not by a little fuzzy woodland burglar either.

But, as Eijiro was on the phone with the call handler, weirdly enough he came to realise it was just his sheets and dirty clothes that had been stolen.
The operator on the end of the phone had scoffed, “I’m sorry hun, it doesn’t sound urgent, we can send an officer up some time this week, but it sounds like you’ll be better off with animal control.”

Eijiro had rubbed at the back of his neck, “Erm, yeah, okay.”
What kind of thief would steal his dirty pants but leave his TV and brand-new games console?

A /big one/, he came to find out.

But it was a few days before anything happened again.
It was pissing it down with rain so Eijiro wasn’t particularly impressed as he mended the back door, reinforcing it in case the racoon-bear decided to pay him a visit while he was actually home.
It was weird, all these incidents and not once had he seen the creature which he could only assume was very large. The damn thing upturned his sofa, and it was a big sofa!
Kirishima frowned to himself, shuffling back on his knees to admire his handy work while reaching over to the patio table to take a bite of his sandwich. It wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t a carpenter, but it was the best he was going to be able to do without buying a whole new door.
He shoved the rest of the first half of his sandwich into his mouth before stretching, and he pulled himself up from the floor, reaching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders.
Actually, looking at the door, he was quite impressed with himself, and with a hum, he absently reached towards the table again where the other half of his sandwich was.
But his fingers found nothing, and when he looked over, his brow furrowed yet again when he realised his sandwich was gone, plate and all.
Was he going insane?

Kirishima span, moving to look over the side of the porch. It was raining pretty hard, turning the grass around to mush, and as his eyes focused, he couldn’t help but notice the mud had been disturbed.
His head was already soaked, sticking it out from under the porch roof, but he hardly felt the wet strands of his falling ponytail against his face as he hopped over the fencing. He landed heavily; feet bare with the mud squelching between his toes.
But he paid no mind to that as he followed the thick trail down from his porch towards the lake.

The trench was deep, whatever had made it was heavy, long, /thick/.

It didn’t really seem like a racoon.
Eijiro stepped either side of the track, legs spread wide to accommodate the indent in the mud. His feet sunk deep in the dirt, up to his ankles, mixing with coarse sand the closer to the water’s edge he got.
He was soaked through, his shirt sticking to his shoulders, his stomach, but the air was warm still, fresh smelling and fragranced with earth and fresh water.

Could a bear leave a trail like this?

Did they move on their stomachs?

Seemed improbable.

/What was this?/
It was like a tyre mark, two- maybe /three/ full tyres wide, snaking back towards the water where it just
 stopped.

Suddenly, Eijiro didn’t think it was a racoon anymore.
The lake was darker than usual, stirred up by the torrential downpour, waves choppy as the water heaved back and forth, the rain marring the usually still surface. The gloomy sky tarnished the reflections, and the usual mirroring surface was warped into a dark, bottomless void.
“You know,” He shouted out, muffled through the rain. He raised his hands to cup his mouth, “if you’re hungry, I’ll make you your own sandwi—AH!” He stumbled backwards suddenly, cutting himself off and falling straight on his arse into the mud, biting his tongue in the process.
The water in front of him rippled, just beyond the drop-off, and from the murky water, disturbed by the rain and movement beneath something slipped across the surface. Something dark, something almost indistinguishable from the gloomy water arched above the blackened waves.
It could have been the trick of the light.

But it reflected in the dim glow of the clouds, almost green but cloaked in night, twinkling, /dazzling/.
Eijiro wished it were a trick of the light, but it wasn’t, there was no denying something that shouldn’t have belonged in the water broke those waves. It blended in but stood out, moving against the water’s currents, the texture all wrong.
And it left Kirishima in the mud, stunned, being rained on for a good few minutes before he managed to scramble up and run back into the cabin.

Several days later and multiple online searches for ‘/big snakes/’, Eijiro still came up blank.
Was it a python? They lived in the water, right? They grew pretty big, right?
Except
 there weren’t any pythons around here. Unless it was one a pet owner set free, he’d found articles about that online – apparently, people setting their pet snakes free was a bit of an issue in some places around the world.
But up in the mountains? How would a pet snake get here?
And that didn’t really answer the question of the creatures colouring.

The creature was black, distinctively so, with an almost green sheen to it so when it caught the light, that onyx surface dazzled in dark jade lights.
Well, whatever it was, Eijiro was pretty sure it wasn’t a raccoon.
But a week went by and the water-raccoon-snake-bear didn’t seem to want to make another appearance. Maybe it liked the rain, which would make sense seeing as it was at least partially aquatic, but also maybe it was because Eijiro was constantly on edge.
Whenever he went into the backyard, he would randomly glance over his shoulder, laugh, and then glare over the other shoulder.

But still, no water-raccoon-snake-bear.

Even his underwear went un-thieved.

/Suspicious/.
He kind of felt a little bad, the creature must have been becoming more comfortable with him, maybe, and he’d shouted at it. Sure, he’d shouted to offer it lunch, but it was a really rather aggressive tone.

So, yeah. He felt bad.
He also wasn’t really sure how to offer the creature friendship, show it that he wasn’t a threat, other than leaving food out for it. Obviously, the creature wasn’t malicious, at least not towards him, so he found no harm in feeding it – even if shouldn’t feed wild animals.
But something told him this was no usual wild animal. This thing was smart – at least smart enough not to get caught or seen, which gathering its size was a rather impressive feat on its own – and he also felt a little bad for it.
Maybe it was lonely? Maybe that’s why it was stealing all his things?
Whatever the reason, Kirishima still set out food for the creature every night for the next week. It started off small – sandwiches, mostly – but then he started making extra of every meal he ate and most nights he even left an entire plate of food out and a yoghurt for dessert.
The first night, the food was smeared all over the patio, which was kind of sad because it was a really tasty chicken and leek pie. The yoghurt had also looked like it had been popped, or thrown, or just combusted in some way because that was sprayed everywhere too.
Eijiro made note this was not typical racoon behaviour when he compared it to the videos he saw online.
But the next night he had a little more success. Maybe the water-raccoon-snake-bear had just been insulted by the idea of a chicken and leek pie, because the next meal of spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread was far more successful.
After all, the plate was sparkling clean when he opened the back door the following morning. Even the chocolate mousse pot he’d substituted in place of the yoghurt had been licked clean and placed carefully back on the empty plate with the rest of the rubbish.
The creature had even used a small, smooth, pretty looking stone to keep the rubbish from blowing away.

At least, Kirishima assumed that was the reason for it being neatly placed on top. But it was a pretty rock so he kept it, put it on his mantlepiece.
These interactions were why the following week Eijiro set to work fixing up the dilapidated pier jetting out into the lake with an extra ham sandwich by his side.
He was /determined/ to befriend the water-raccoon-snake-bear, and providing ham sandwiches seemed to be the best place to start with that one. The weather wasn’t too bad either, even if it had been raining for 6 days straight.
The ground was still soggy, the water level higher than usual, the clouds thick but no longer heavy and grey. So when lunchtime came around, Eijiro sat on the end of that slightly damp wooden pier with his legs dangling off the edge and ate his sandwich painstakingly slowly.
He made a point to make a show of it; humming loudly in appreciation, chewing exaggeratedly.

“Yummy sandwich,” He declared into the open, still lake.
The air was fresh, and there was a thin fog coating the surface of the water that had rolled down from the mountains in the storms. Everything felt fragile, like it had been shaken up and was only just settling, starting afresh. It was nice, it was peaceful.
But then there was a slight plop, like an air bubble breaking the water's surface and Kirishima’s head whipped around so fast his neck cracked.
His cheek was full of food, and there was certainly crumbs on his face as his eyes darted around him, surveying the lake surface. But the mellow ripples were undisturbed from anything beyond the light, cool breeze.
Eijiro hummed, slowly, /sceptically/, turning back around to face the front again. But just as he raised the sandwich to his mouth again there was another plop, this time from below him and he found himself moving so fast to shove his head between his knees,—
—folding himself right over to look under the pier where his legs were dangling from, nearly threw up the sandwich that was halfway down his throat.
But there was something under the pier, something with bright red eyes that glowed like neon lights in the shadow, and pale skin, almost ghostly with an unusual sheen to it.
For a second, for the smallest of moments, Kirishima thought he was staring right at a de/ad body and he yelled out. He lost balance, and one second he was upside down and the next he was arse over tit and smacking face-first into the icy lake water.
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