#NO BECAUSE HES ON ‘DEATHS DOOR’ SEEING IZUKU NEARLY DIE??????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

lame

09.

new beginnings are always the hardest part

Despite everything you said – being happy to see your two childhood friends finally acknowledging each other, coming to better terms with their relationship, you didn’t talk to the two for a week though, slightly pissed that they let their damn egos get the best of them.

Really, boys were stupid. So stupid. How stupid? Fucking stupid!

Yet, at the same time, you merely used it as an excuse to really re-evaluate your stance on things.

Honestly, it was nice to have them work through their feelings and finally see each other on equal footing, despite the fact that they had to use their goddamn fists and talk civilly- nope. Childhood friends with serious issues that were slathered by insecurities and bullying could only be mended by fists and screaming. Still, despite having the two finally coming to terms with each other, they still felt so far and out of reach. You had to wonder, where were you in all of that?

Exhaling through your nose, you rested your head against the mop handle, running your forehead through the wood to ground you. “Stupid,” you say to no one in particular. Well, maybe it was more to yourself.

Tiredly making your way through your home, sluggishly pulling the door open, you announced your presence, voice slurring. “I’m home.”

All you wanted to do was bury yourself in bed, take a short nap, or drown in bath-

Something was off.

Immediately, your senses were on high.

First, you caught a familiar scent – two of them, actually. One smelled like sweat and body wash, the other was of burnt sugar. Then, there were the familiar gentle beats. Rushing towards your living room, you all but slammed the door wide open, yellow eyes opening just as wide.

Green and carmine eyes widened at your presence. Staring. You blink. They blinked. You blink again. Izuku raised a tentative hand, smiling weakly. Bakugou just stared with his hands in his pockets.

…

“OLD MAN! What are they doing here!?”

At your outburst, your grandfather comes running towards you whacking you in the head, hard.

The boys winced at that.

Your grandfather eyes you sternly. “Don’t be rude to our guests, foolish girl!”

The two guests just eye you – one worried, with his hands out, the other in awed concern, feeling the pain from the whack.

"You didn't answer my question," you growled, the back of your head still hurting. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING HERE!?"

"Simple: they came to visit."

"AND YOU JUST LET THEM!?"

"They were standing outside the house, it's rude to just leave them there."

"THEN YOU SHOULD'VE! THEY'RE NOT FUCKING STRAYS!"

"They're our guests, foolish girl."

"You should've left them out, then asked for my opinion!"

Beside you, the two boys shifted their eyes going back and forth at your heated exchange with your grandfather.

"Why should I? It's my house."

"Don't I get a say?"

"Do you want me to hit you again?" he raised a hand threateningly, causing you (and the two boys) to wince and take a step back, the back of your head still throbbing. "Ha, thought so." You gave him a sneer, he smirked smugly.

“I’m going to cook now, keep them company!” turning his back, he casually waves off at you three, walking to the kitchen. “Have them greet your parents.”

Sighing, taking a few calming breaths, you glared at the two boys, gesturing then with your head. Without a word, they were on their feet and followed after you.

It’s been a while since Bakugou’s ever been to your house. Izuku comes over a lot, has been over the years. He can't help but feel jealous of how close the two of you are, he felt so left out.

There was an altar by the corner of the living room, where he found you kneeling in front of, lips pressed tightly staring hard at the wooden cabinet long and hard. Eventually, you took hold of the doors and opened, expression softening as you saw the smiling photos of your deceased parents.

“Hi Ma, Pa, looked who came over to visit.”

Quickly getting to his knees behind you, Izuku gestured for Bakugou to do the same, hands pressed together in front of his chest. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s been a while!”

“A-Ah, yeah…” Bakugou says, awkwardly, you had to roll your eyes at that.

“These idiots finally got their act together,” you reported, almost smugly. “still, doesn’t change the fact that they’re the worst knuckleheads in this day and age.”

Some would think that it was a little odd to have your guests come and greet the dead, but this was quite the tradition in your home. Most of your family’s close friends were used to it, Izuku included.

Knowing this, Bakugou felt left out than ever.

For he remembered the day after that day, how his parents spoke in hushed tones when he came home after nearly dying by the hands of a sludge villain and saved by Deku – of all people, the solemn look in their faces after a quick inquiry on the bruise on his jaw, tears alarmingly threatening to spill from his mother’s eyes, his father’s careful expression – “(Name)-chan’s parents, they’re dead.”

It was all too surreal.

You missed out on school for a whole week, grieving. Classmates were murmuring amongst themselves at your absence, having heard of your little altercation and the death of your parents on the same day. Also, students fawned over him for the Sludge Incident, for managing to hold back the villain (when in actuality he was barely breathing had Deku not jumped in) which was honestly the last thing on his mind.

Deku, who was surprisingly left alone, would stare at your chair worriedly, thumbs quick to send a quick text in between classes. He had wanted to ask him about you but held himself back. Pride and guilt held him back. Also, it felt like it wasn’t his place anymore, neither was it his right.

During the funeral, he finally saw you dressed in an all-black kimono his heart clenching at the bags under your eyes, the redness surrounding it, your puffy tear-stained cheeks, the dullness in those once bright (e/c) eyes.

When they arrived, immediately both his parents gave you a big hug, you barely hugged them back, much to their concern. Auntie Inko gave you a hug, as well, when she and Deku arrived. As for him? He kept himself back, hidden, knowing how his presence would only make things worse. And yet, he still came because he was worried about you, so, so, so fucking worried.

You were barely there, receptive or alive. Bakugou hated it, it wasn’t you – you were never much of a crier, always wearing your heart on your sleeve and brimming with life. Now though, it looked as though you were half-alive. He couldn’t blame you really, he can’t imagine losing his parents, of having a part of you die.

While your grandfather attended to guests, receiving condolence money and sympathies, he ensured a distance was kept, knowing you needed time to mourn. Judging from the redness in your eyes, the blankness in your gaze, it would probably take a while.

Looking at you now, seeing the color back in your face, your eyes, the lively (if not, careful hostile) aura emanating off you sets him at ease. Well, almost.

He tried not to linger on the fact that he had a part in utterly destroying a part of you the same way he did Deku, but it bled through as the months went by. All he could do was stare at your parent’s faces, silently offering his heartfelt apologies for all those years he wasted.

"GRANDDAUGHTER! WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, BRING THEM TO THE DOJO!" A yell came from the kitchen, disrupting the peace.

His eyes fell to your form, shoulders slacking. He may not see your face, but he could tell there was a sour expression written all over your face.

Then you sighed, twisting in place to look at the two.

"How about it, boys? Wanna let off some steam?"

The dojo was adjoined to your house - a small traditional dojo that's about ages old, you're not sure but you know but it's been there forever - or so you're told.

A wide space greeted you, polished wooden floors and tatami mats on the ground, calligraphy of 'fortitude', and your family name done by your grandmother hung from the walls along with some ornaments and nondescript paintings that were as old as you (maybe) – everything was in place.

With your grandfather as the head of the family, duly seeing that he lived the family legacy and upheld tradition, he saw fit that the dojo was well-taken care for, that his students weren’t weaklings – family or not, and that the Yoruichi family lived up to its potential and filled with honor (this part, he drilled hard on you when you were younger). In addition, he was the current coach of your school's martial arts club and you were his star pupil, which spelled big favouritism, but nobody complained after sweeping the floor with them on the first day.

Growing up, this place was your safe haven, you could always find peace here, it also held so many good memories that smelled pleasantly of bamboo, faintly of wood, and the faint sounds of a wind chime resounding.

Unable to help yourself, you threw yourself to the ground sideways – an act catching the boys by surprise, Izuku to shrieked, and Bakugou to start - hands planted firmly on the ground, cartwheeling away before doing it again except doing it forward, then sideways, and then your body twisted in mid-air, before landing gracefully on your feet arms raised on both sides.

"(Nickname)!" Izuku called after you, causing you to giggle, especially because your hair was a complete mess now.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Patting your hands to the sides, the feel of your skirt made you realize why both boys seemed red in the face. Thankfully, you wore shorts underneath.

With Shinsou busy and final exams in the way, your sparring sessions had been put to a hold. You missed sparring, training – even if it were against Aizawa-san or your grandfather, you loved the thrill of fighting. It was in your blood, after all.

“Really, you shouldn’t be so reckless!” berates your green-haired friend, marching towards you, the blond following close behind.

Looking around, the blond teen took in his surroundings - the aged wooden beams overhead, the cubbies, your grandmother's calligraphy set neatly set in one of the fine cabinets, until his eyes stopped on some pictures. It was the three of you, during your younger days when your grandfather wanted to train all three of you.

Unaware of the way his eyes softened at the picture, he continually looked over and relived the memories – he could almost hear Deku’s crying as he tried to punch hard, him hollering in mad glee, and then you lording over the two because the dojo was ‘your turf’. Carmine eyes traced the smile on your 8-year old face, pulling away to find that you were wearing the same smile. Except, unlike the photo – where the smile was directed at him, Deku was crying in it – your smile was directed towards your green-haired friend who marvelled at the trophies you and some fellow students of the dojo won.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, but it was always there. He hated it.

As a child, since discovering his quirk, he’d been showered by praise and was the center of everyone’s attention. But for him, the only praise and attention he wanted was from you. However, because he was a shitty kid with an overgrown pride, you barely batted his way and spared him even an ounce of acknowledgment. Honestly, he’s been starved for your attention for so long now.

Only when you had shoved his kindness away in middle school did he realize how badly he’d hurt you, how little of an effort he did to truly reach out to you. He had a handful of ‘friends’, but not really, and you had Izuku – a friendship built on trust and love, he wanted that. But he was too selfish and prideful to do shit about it.

Before he knew it, Bakugou acted on his feelings.

“(Name),” you looked up, (e/c) eyes blinking in question. “let’s spar.”

“Ka-Kacchan-?”

“Sure.” You said with a shrug.

Green eyes blinked at you, then at the blond-haired teen, darting back and forth at the two of you. Were you really doing this now?

“W-Wait a minute! Are we really doing this now?” Izuku tried to reason, seeing at the two of you began to circle each other, him in the middle. “We should just talk, recall the good times! L-Like…Like…um…” the tension between you two, it was unpalpable, raw, and intense. “(N-Nickname)! Remember the first time you showed us a kick split and Kacchan tried to mimic?”

As funny as that memory was, his two friends were too busy circling each other, resembling animals in the wild. Their expressions were blank, but their eyes spoke too much.

(E/c) met carmine. Both unwavering, unyielding, and both hungry.

“(Nickname)? Kacchan? Are you listening to me?”

Readying into a stance, you closed your eyes as you took a deep inhale, opening them when exhaling slowly out your mouth. Bakugou’s fingers were tingling, smoke emitting.

“(Nickname), Kacchan, please there’s no need to-!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Bakugou was lunging forward, the explosion – which was half-powered, Izuku noticed – leaving a cloud of smoke behind that momentarily filled the area.

You didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the smoke, one arm quickly raised to guard against his fist, and the other readily grabbing hold of his knee that followed soon after. With all your might, you pushed him off. (In a fit of panic, Izuku cleared the smoke clouds away with a fling of his fingers at 2% power.)

Bakugou threw his fists, to which you easily deflected or swatted aside, keeping the blows away from you. Tossing his hand away, you planted your hands on the ground and swung your legs to hit him low, Bakugou quickly moved out of the way, rather clumsily. For a moment, he swore he saw you smirk, swinging your legs around with ease to swing at him again.

He had realized then that he had no idea how you fought; he was going into this blind. You both (three, counting Deku) may have trained together under the same dojo when you were younger, but that had been years ago! Plus, being a Yoruichi meant that you were proficient in other forms of martial arts. But again, emotions got the best of him. For some reason, despite being caught at a disadvantage, he found himself gleaming.

You were fast – much faster than he had anticipated, and extremely agile. He took note of the fact that your eyes were its usual (e/c) color, despite the fact that it was dark out. All the punches and hits received were all raw strength, honed from years of training under your grandfather. He always knew you were a capable fighter, despite having not used your quirk just yet. Fuck, were you mocking him?!

Seeing the frustration in his eyes, you smirked, grabbing hold of his incoming fist, catching him off guard, to toss him aside. So answer: yes, you were mocking him.

He had no idea how much you had studied his fighting style over the years, becoming familiar with his straightforward tactic – it was so predictable. And after seeing the Sports Festival and the fight with Izuku from yesterday, you easily caught up on how adaptable he was given the situation and had quick reflexes. It made you sick.

Yet at the same time, despite knowing this, both of you seemed rather in tune fighting each other.

Izuku, who had long given up trying to be the peacekeeper, could only watch in awe at the two. The mood between you two was…something, to say the least. And watching you two fight? It felt as though it were a dialogue if that even made sense – a mad disarray of Kacchan lashing out on you, you easily avoiding all his punches and explosion, you were able to catch Kacchan off-guard a lot whenever you changed fighting styles to which he’d manage to counter in his own reckless way. It was a nail biter to watch, yet it was fascinating at the same time. The two of you were in perfect synchronization with each other.

A cloud of smoke filled the air, your eyes narrowed to see through just as a palm cut through, nearly punching your cheek clean. Ducking a swipe of Bakugou's smoking fists, you took hold of his wrists and twisted them inward, Bakugou barely had time to react and the explosions went off his skin.

Angered, he used your closeness in an attempt to headbutt you, but you easily evaded, losing balance in the process. Seeing this, he grabbed hold of your hand, tugging hard to twirl against him, back to his chest. Instantly, he caught hold of your other hand. The position looked as though you were dancing, it was rather intimate.

"What's the matter? Not gonna use your quirk on me?" he taunted in your ear, making you shiver.

"As a matter of fact," throwing your head forward and back, smacking your hair to his face, he releases you - just barely - but it was enough to free you, sweeping him off his feet to pin him to the ground – an elbow to his back and one arm stretched out painfully behind him. "I don't need my quirk to beat you. I'm plenty strong on my own." Releasing your hold, you tilt your head to the side, unable to help the smug look on your face, faint lines of yellow lining your eyes. "Not bad for one 'seemingly quirkless', huh?"

Quirkless. Something in him roiled, especially with the way you said it.

Pushing himself off, making you lose balance, he grabbed hold of your collar and nearly slammed you to the ground, switching positions. “What the fuck is your problem?”

(E/c) eyes gave him a cold hard stare, the corner of your lip slightly twitching. It made his tenuous temper flare.

Tightening his hold, he asked again. “What is your fucking problem?!”

“My fucking problem is you!”

Okay, that threw him off.

Bakugou pulls back, blinking at your response, completely dumbfounded “I thought you were ‘working on being a better friend’? Was that all for show?” His voice was soft, hoarse. It hurt that after all this time, he was still a stranger to you. Yet at the same time, he's rather confused with how lightly you've been handling this.

Unable to look at him any longer, you look away. Those carmine eyes were full of hurt; you didn't like it.

"Let go of me," you tell him, his hand had slackened, allowing you to push him off. And he lets you, feeling defeated as he watches you pick yourself up.

His eyes turn to Deku for help, assurance, assistance, never would he have thought that he'd come to Deku - of all people - for such. Deku just stared, weakly at you, then at him – at a loss.

Before you could walk away, Bakugou grabbed your arm, his grip hard. "No, you're not walking away that easy, (Name)."

Your name sounds so foreign when he says it, you gulp, refusing to look his way. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

He glowers, tugging you back to face him, staring you down. "What I want is for you to stop being so fucking difficult and talk to me!"

You couldn't help scoffing, harshly tugging your arm free. "You? Talk? Wow."

Bakugou had always known you were a petty person, but to be this difficult at the same time? It was really grating his nerves.

"(Nickname)..." Izuku berates in the background, which was silenced by Bakugou.

"CAN YOU FOR ONCE JUST LISTEN TO ME!?"

"K-Kacchan..."

"WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS THEN?"

“I’M FUCKING TRYING TO BE CIVIL, BUT YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING DIFFICULT!”

“YOU? CIVIL? IF THAT ISN’T THE JOKE OF THE CENTURY!”

(Somewhere in the kitchen, Shihan casually cooks dinner, knowingly oblivious to the explosion, yelling, screaming, going on in his beloved dojo. Casually checks the spice intake on one of his dishes, adding a bit more.)

Bakugou opens his mouth, about to berate on one of your bullshit of an excuse to give him the time to speak only to stop. He realized how much you’d instigate and rile him up, and how much he’d fall for it. This was never-ending, the ceaseless anger between you two, it had to stop. “Why won’t you give me the chance, (Name)?” his voice was brittle, so brittle and soft, from yelling and of hurt.

Vulnerability was something you never expected of him, but you were too proud to even recognize it from him of all people. “Your life is fucking perfect, why the hell do you want to make a mess outta mine!?”

“Perfec- “he nearly spat out the word, hating it. “you think my life is perfect?”

Rolling your eyes, hard, Bakugou swore it was enough to see the insides of your head. “Come on, do I need to list it down? You and your perfect family, your perfect little cozy home, your perfect academic performance, your perfect quirk,” that part just had to be overly emphasized, dramatized, much to his disgust “life just hands you everything perfectly in a neat little bow-“

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!” he angrily yells.

That made you stop. Izuku, too.

And after a few seconds of saying it, as did Bakugou. "Fuck," he muttered, ducking his head, to hide his reddening face, he was reeling at his confession – pent up after being so long overdue.

“…what…?”

Izuku’s hands slapped over his mouth, a small noise coming threatening to come out as he watched the two of you in keen interest. “…K-Kacchan…(N-Nickname)…”

(Now would probably be the worst time to gush, squeal, or scream over this, as though he were watching a rom-com movie, but he couldn’t help it! Izuku had always been the biggest supporter of you two, wanting you both to end up together since you were children.)

After all this time, he liked you, too?

When he looked up, he was surprised to see how red you were – you were, like him, blushing hard. Like that one time you visited to give your ochugen gifts.

Wait.

“Wait.”

“I’m outta here!”

The door slammed shut behind you.

Dinner was an awkward occasion, an extremely awkward one especially because your grandfather had Bakugou sit right next to you.

Your grandfather, painfully knowing that he is, acted oblivious to the tension and casually chatted up the boys - Izuku mostly doing the talking, whilst Bakugou mumbled here and there, you kept your head low avoiding the gaze of anyone in the table.

Just after dinner, you made a beeline for your room, uncaring for your grandfather's wrath - you could deal with that later, you just wanted a moment to yourself after Bakugou's confession.

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!”

Fuck.

His words rang in your ear, all the blood rushing the instant his voice rang in your head.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," you wailed into your pillow.

With special permission from Aizawa-san, and Izuku's insistency, you found yourself at the prestigious UA once again in time for its culture festival.

To say the place was huge would be an understatement, and that’s saying because you’ve been here a lot whenever Izuku was injured, more than just three USJs, it felt like its own continent! This time though, it was colorful and vibrant than usual.

The school went all out, I see. You thought to yourself, after all the bad shit that happened to them.

You still held Izuku with careful regard, it was always easy to forgive him, but appreciated the gesture that he extended his invitation to you. He wanted you to be there, to experience the joy of a high school culture festival even if you two weren’t school mates anymore. (Also, it was his way of saying sorry.) All things considered; things immediately went back to normal between you two.

(Save for one)

Meeting up with your best friend at the front gate, you were surprised to find him covered in dirt and grass. But before you could even ask, he hurriedly brought you backstage to meet up with his classmates before the show started.

“Everyone this is my childhood friend, Yoruichi (Name)!”

Giggling at his stutter, you shouldered him playfully before bowing at his classmates. “Hi everyone! It’s nice to meet the lot of you!”

A series of ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ came afterwards, soon after, the two of you were bombarded with questions. Tiredly, you turn to your best friend, sharing a look. Man, I miss the days when we were invincible.

“Ah, it was that girl who yelled at him at the hospital!” a tall plain-looking guy pointed at you, to which Iida yelled that it was rude to point. You could only offer an apologetic smile, nudging at your best friend’s shoulder again.

“Eh? I didn’t know Midoriya had another childhood friend!” some guy with flaming red hair and shark teeth said, kindly and in shock.

“More than that, Midoriya’s been keeping this beauty from us!” a small purple-haired boy screeched, angrily turning to your best friend. On instinct, you stepped in front of your friend protectively.

“Wow, I’m offended you don’t talk much about me, Izuku.” You teased, elbowing the green-haired teen. He laughed, scratching his cheek.

“This is so radical, a female childhood friend. Must be nice~” a boy, with a streak of black over his hair that could only remind you of Pikachu, gushed. “But wait, haven’t I seen you at that one café- “

“Dunce face, shut your mouth.” Bakugou suddenly appeared in your line of sight, you immediately turned away before he met your gaze, fighting the blush creeping its way to your cheeks.

“Ne, ne, ne,” a pink-skinned and pink-haired girl gushed, nearly shoving her face into yours. “So, like, is Midoriya your boyfriend?”

In unison, you two stared at each other before bursting into laughter, used to the question for so many years.

“No way,” Izuku says, trying to calm down. “(Nickname)’s like a sister to me!”

“I second that! Izuku’s such a whiny big brother with a big brain.”

“(Nickname), you didn’t have to put it like that…”

Grinning toothily, you playfully ruffled his curly locks, discreetly eyeing a brunette who seemed to sigh in relief.

“Wait a minute, since Yoruichi’s your childhood friend, does that mean that Bakugou’s your childhood friend, too?” a short-haired punk-looking girl asked, a few heads turning to the blond. Said blond stilled, expression a careful blank.

“Yeah, he is.” The reply came easy, nonchalantly. Playfully. “Is. Was. Somewhere in between.” You wiggled your hand in the air for emphasis.

It was a cold response, almost as cold as Todoroki’s ice.

“But that’s enough about me, I heard you guys were putting on a live performance?” the mood easily shifted, two kinds of excitement stirring from the class. “And Izuku, you’re dancing? Since when!?”

“Sadly, we kicked him out.” The pink-haired girl says, arms crossed.

“Deku-kun worked his best!” Ochako defended, cheeks puffing.

“That’s right! That’s right!”

“Ah, Midoriya-chan looks mad?”

“More than that, he’s blushing too.”

Several eyes turned to the green-haired teen, cheeks puffed and an angry flush dusting his cheeks, glaring your way.

“I-I mean, dancing sounds fun. Plus, I’ll have you know that we’ve danced together before, (Nickname)!”

(e/c) eyes narrowed playfully, finger poking at freckled cheeks. “Dance Revolution, Just Dance, and Dance Master don’t count, dumdum. Plus, you suck at those!”

“She’s so brutal!”

“Almost like a female Bakugou.”

“Uwa, it’s kinda rare to see Midoriya like this. He seems more comfortable and less grounded.”

“I see what you’re saying! And he usually shies away from girls!”

“Yoruichi’s got spunk, doesn’t she?”

“Oi, we got to prepare! Come on, now!”

Realizing this, you stepped away from Izuku, wishing him luck. He had told you that he wanted you to meet someone after the show, you could only nod at that.

Meeting carmine eyes, you faltered, body shifting to move, but stopped. Braving a look his way – much to his shock, you offered a small smile. “Break a leg.”

Their show was amazing, spectacular, a showstopper, and you made sure to relay your praises to the class afterwards.

Shortly after the show (and sharing your thoughts about their presentation), you were introduced to Eri, the sweet little girl Izuku told you about during his work-study. The moment you saw her, she immediately won your heart. Oh, and you were introduced to Mirio, a goofy senior who was super friendly and an amazing presence to behold.

Without even knowing, you somehow wounded up with the rest of 1-A joining whatever sorts of fun the cultural festival has to offer. Most of the time, you stuck close with Eri, who'd grown fond of you after your first meeting, sometimes, sticking with the girls (even though your nose would crinkle at girlish topics), or even hung with Bakugou's ragtag of friends (of which, you were surprised to find that he had a clique of his own!).

It was a rather eventful day, and your legs were all tired out from constantly moving around. Still, it was a fun day. Sitting against a railing, you watched as Izuku ran off towards the gate, a paper bag in hand. Smiling at his retreating frame, you leaned back and watched around, eyeing the festivities - or what's left of it, feeling suddenly lonely about it all. This was where Izuku and Bakugou went to school, this was their cultural festival, and you were just an outsider.

“Here,” you blinked as a churro appeared out of nowhere, offered to you. Retracting your hands from your sides, you carefully took the treat in your hands and looked up, meeting carmine - Bakugou.

“Thanks,” you reply, dumbly.

Sitting next to you, Bakugou was strangely quiet, hands buried in his pocket. “What did you think of our performance?” he asked, rather quietly.

“Pretty kickass,” you say honestly, still staring at your treat. "I forgot how well you could play the drums."

The corners of his mouth twitched, but his expression remained a careful, almost wistful blank. His eyes though, they were another story. “I’m glad you came, (Name).”

Scoffing, a smile found its way to your lips, you bump his shoulder with yours. Surprised, he looks up, eyes finding yours, (e/c) warm. “Yeah, me too.”

Something inside him stirs, strangely, comfortingly. He could feel his throat drying just looking at you, just as you bit on your churro - a big crunch, followed by sugar falling off.

“You should consider transferring.”

“Pass, I’ll just take the supplementary lessons Aizawa-san offers.”

"Like they'll do you good."

"Hm,” you swallow, using the back of your hand to wipe the cinnamon sugar off your mouth. “lest you forget I have my shitty old man, and he teaches me plenty."

He mulls at your words as you chew on your churro, enjoying the youthful vibe of the cultural festival. Truth be told, being here actually made you jealous. You never enjoyed the cultural festival at your middle school because everyone did such a mediocre job and could care less about having fun. But this? This was nice. Relaxing, fun even.

"What happened to you?"

Stopping midchew, you let the words sink in - word by word, before finishing the last piece of your churro. Mulling over his question, you leaned your head back to watch the cotton candy-colored skies. "I gave up." You said simply, decidedly, honestly. "You seem to disregard people who care about you."

He swallowed thickly at your words. There were a million things he wanted to say while you were right there, no animosity between the both of you for once, however, he found himself choked up. All the words, questions, they held up in his throat. It felt pretty fucking lame of him.

However, if anything, there was one thing he's been meaning to say to you for a very long time. "(Name)," he starts, he liked the way your name comes out of his mouth, always liked how it's comparably lighter to say compared to a million words that made up language. "I'm sorry."

Startled, you turned to him, really stare at him. Two words, yet they carried so much weight. So much history addressed. So many years of fighting, crying, yelling, and stubbornness. All it took were just two words.

Surrendering, you leaned against his form - feeling his body flinch at the contact, but doesn't move away, eyes falling shut. "I'm sorry, too."

That made him scoff, offended at your apology. "Shut up," As far as history has shown, you have nothing to apologize for.

"No, really listen." you continue, eyes dropping to your fingers. "I'm much to blame for our history. I've been so incredibly petty, cynical even whenever it came to you. Izuku was always so forgiving and he'd try to pass it on to me, but I just tossed it aside, never realizing that in the process I was hurting both of my dearest friends. By neglecting Izuku's wishes, I was neglecting you in the process. I was so selfish."

"I've been selfish, too."

"I know."

"And prideful."

"Oh, I know."

The makings of a smile creep its way to his lips. "And shitty."

You snort. "Oh, believe me, I know." Unknowingly, you laughed easily.

Bakugou watches as you laugh - eyes crinkling, cheeks brightened (with a few specks of cinnamon sugar sticking), your teeth were exposing, a light-hearted laugh escaping your mouth, you looked so pretty like that. He rather liked hearing your laugh.

Finding his elbow, you wrapped your arm around his, leaning ever so closer. Bakugou might've jumped at that, but you couldn't tell, too contented at that moment. "I missed you, fucker."

At your admission, he felt his chest stilling, calming. Before realizing it, the expression on his face lightened, softened, carmine eyes taking in your form against it – had you seen it, it would have done you over.

It was the softest expression he could ever muster.

"I missed you, too-"

"Oi, Bakugou!"

"There you are! We've been looking all over for-"

Kaminari and Kirishima both stopped at the sight of two teens, relishing in each other's presence - quite comfortably, too - which was ruined by their arrival.

Curious, you peeked a look at the two teens.

And then there was Bakugou, who was absolutely furious.

masterlist • ten

#lame #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki angst fic #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fic #bnha angst #bnha angst fic #mha #mha x reader #mha fic #mha angst #mha angst fic

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

Text

BNHA: something sad (Grief)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ AU.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS: Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst. destructive behaviour.

(Additional part here)

(Grief- Katsuki self reflects and visits Izuku’s grave)

Katsuki knows he has a volatile personality, probably inherited it from his mum, and enough attitude that he has steamrolled his way through life without much difficulty. Things annoyed him easily and he got irritable at the drop of a hat. He has enough self-awareness to recognise that as a flaw, even if he had never seen it as much of a problem.

There was a difference between irritation and anger. Deku had always made him angry, inducing a burning hot sensation that ate at his insides. Now Deku was gone and he couldn't turn any of it off. It was like the world was suck behind a filthy pane of glass that he couldn’t smash through no matter how hard he tried.

Katsuki watches the head of his Kamui Woods figurine bend at an odd angle as the plastic began to superheat, having been exposed to a string of minor blasts. He had been slowly working his way through his figurine collection as both quirk training and to take the edge off his anger. Melting this figurine was particularly cathartic.

“Perhaps we should look into getting you some new hobbies.”

Katsuki shifts his focus to glare at his father who stands at his bedroom door, an expression of worry pulling at his features. No surprises there, worry was his father’s default response to anything Katsuki did these days.

“Not interested.”

“Something to get you out of the apartment,” his father continues to which Katsuki narrows his eyes. He wouldn’t be in the apartment if he had any say in it. Both his parents know this.

“Some physical activity where you’ll be able to let loose without having to worry about property damage. I have a colleague whose brother runs a kickboxing studio. I can make arrangements for you to spend time…”

“I said, I’m not interested,” he grumbles, returning to his current distraction.

“Well, I want you to think about it,” his dad instructs, “It would do you a lot of good and it’s something you’re passionate about….”

The figurine Katsuki is holding begins to blacken, colours melting away under his tiny, controlled bursts. There is an unhappy sigh from his father and the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall. He growls and the figurine explodes with a small Bang. Melted plastic is flung across his walls and floor.

He knows what his dad is trying to do…

How many times had he begged his parents for better training opportunities, for karate or boxing lessons, only to be denied due to money restraints? Outside of a few judo lessons he had received as a birthday gift from Inko one year, any combat training he did he had been self-taught.

Now he’s no longer interested, his parents are practically threatening him with extracurricular activities.

It’s fucking annoying is what it is.

He reaches for another figurine only to find that he has none left aside from his limited edition All Might collection. He lets out an angry breath, trying to rid himself of his restless irritation. It doesn’t work, and he ends up standing so he can pace back and forth, listening to the pop, pop, focusing on his tingling skin as sparks run up and down his arms. It keeps him distracted for all of two seconds.

Usually, he would be at the library studying, or going on long runs and working on his physical conditioning. Sometimes, he would meet up with a few of the loser-extras from school and they would visit an arcade. Recently, he had taken to wandering through the streets around his neighbourhood, waiting for something to piss him off enough that his mind would white-out in pure rage and could forget reality for a few seconds. Obviously, that had become a lot harder after several run-ins with the local police had had him all but permanently grounded outside of school hours.

This is what he wanted… he remains himself. His plan to piss people off enough that he received some iota of punishment was working like a charm so, of course, it sucked. He hated it, but then, he hated all the alternatives as well so what did any of it matter.

Katsuki ends up with his ear pressed against the door, listening for activity in the living room, waiting for an opportunity to make a break for it. He needs to be careful because Aunt Inko is visiting and the last thing he wants is to see her stupid, sympathetic smile.

When it sounds like the coast is clear, he creeps out, stealing down the hall. Muffled voices from the kitchen are all the encouragement he needs to beeline for the door and slip out before anyone can spot him. He’ll be in trouble for this later. He’s counting on it.

The hot summer air is a welcome change from the chill of air conditioning. There is the loud buzz of cicadas, chirping away in the sticky heat. He picks a direction and walks, not caring that he is wearing the sweatpants and the black singlet he had slept in. If someone has a problem with his presentation, he is more than willing to throw down.

Unfortunately, the relief being out of the apartment brings is short-lived. Today, a feeling of discomfort follows after him which has nothing to do with the heat. A bubbling frustration that bites at his heels as he stalks the streets. It is that feeling he has come to associate with times when all his rage burns away, leaving him numb.

He doesn’t plan to stop at the florists, he just sort of does.

He turns suddenly into the store before he can properly process what he is doing. The chime on the glass door rings and the sickly-sweet smell of the store has his nose wrinkling. Before he can chicken out and retreat, he walks to the counter.

“How much?” He snaps at the older lady in overalls manning the register, pointing at the nearest bunch of white flowers. He has no idea what type they are but that wasn’t the point wasn't it?

“Ah,” The woman squints at him, taken back “That depends how many you want?”

“I don’t care” He smacks the few yen he has on the counter, “However many that’ll get me. Don’t rip me off.”

The woman nods slowly, “Do you just want these specifically? You don’t want to add some more colour to the bouquet? White is a bit of a dower colour.”

“Whatever is cheapest…just make it quick.” He is already regretting coming in.

The woman hums, pulling out a roll of paper, beginning to place and wrap the flowers Katsuki had pointed to.

“Who are they for if I may ask?”

“No.”

“Oh? A special friend maybe,” She begins to tease.

“He’s dead,” he snaps abruptly, “and he’s not my friend. Just give me the damn flowers.” Why did people always make this shit more difficult than it needed to be?

The old hag is silent after that, awkwardly finalising his purchase which ends up being an assortment of white flowers with a few smaller yellow and red ones scattered between. It almost looks pretty and it is sickly-sweet smelling, just like the store.

He tries no to think about his destination as he walks with renewed deliberation. He doesn’t think about it right up until he is practically walking into the low stone wall nearest the gate. The shock of seeing the place has him freezing in place, breath catching. The last time he had been here had been during the funeral.

There are lines of thin, tightly packed, gave markers, rising horizontally on sets on uneven steps. There is barely room for people to pass between them on the narrow, flagstone path. Trees are scattered throughout the space, providing patches of uneven shade. The noise of the cicadas is louder here, almost oppressive in its throbbing hum. For a moment, all he wants to do is walk up to the nearest stone and blow it all sky high. Then he would be sure to flatten every marker in the place until the land was a barren waste. That would get him arrested for sure. The thought passes quickly, and his eyes slide away from the cemetery to his flowers. They don’t look nearly as nice now he has almost strangled them with an unintentionally tight grip.

He breaths out, resisting the urge to set something on fire. Slowly, he walks up the steps, passing the small temple at the entrance. Deku is buried further in, his stone modest in size when compared to the others.

“Deku…” He grows out a greeting when he arrives and it gets caught in his throat. The stone, obviously, does not respond.

Before he can accidentally blow them up, he carefully places the flowers next to the small pile already adorning the small stone. There are more offerings than he expects to be there. He recognises a few of the names from school. One larger bunch looks especially expensive and elaborate, monopolising most of the limited surface space.

‘From Yagi Toshinori’ the card attached reads. Katsuki doesn’t recognise the name.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, he didn’t know shit about Deku other than their shared ambition to be a hero.

“Deku…” Why the fuck is he having trouble talking, “You’re...” He stops.

“You’re a fucking moron,” he manages to spit.

“I didn’t need you to save me.” The anger is burning so hot that its almost unbearable. Pop, pop, his hands fizzle. “I didn’t want your help.”

BANG! He makes sure the explosion is directed away from the stone and up into the sky. The small shock wave it produces rustles the flowers and nearby trees. All the cicadas stop chirping at once, plunging the area into an eerie quiet. His legs feel shaky and he is practically vibrating with anger.

“What did you think a quirkless idiot could have done!”

Save his pathetic life while the real Heroes watch him suffocate from the side-lines? His brain supplies an answer. It was all a big joke wasn’t it? The bastards had all watched Deku die. That was what a Hero did apparently, wait for backup while someone died because it was safer for them. Safer for the Hero.

His legs give way and he falls to his knees, curling his hands into fists, jaw locking up. Finally, the haze of anger falls away and his mind quietens. Everything was painfully clear now. People didn’t care when Katsuki yelled, swore, and hurt other kids, because his quirk was amazing, making him amazing. What a joke. If he hadn’t had his quirk, then the Slime Bastard would have had nothing to work with, and Deku might still be alive.

“I’m…I’m fucking sorry okay." He had always treated Deku like shit and he doesn’t think, if their positions had been reversed…he doesn’t think that he would have even thought about saving someone like himself.

The truth stings. He slams his fist into the flagstone next to him and he watches it crack.

"I’m sorry…”

He was lucky…that’s all he was… He wasn’t special… he was just an average human with a good work ethic and a garbage personality who just happened to have a powerful quirk.

He wasn’t a hero…well, not one like Deku had tried to be…like Deku had been…

He didn’t even want to be a hero...not anymore...He doesn’t know what he wants.

“Damnit…” the words have no heat behind them. The explosive rage that had been burning continuously in his chest for the last week simmers, snuffing out like a candle. There is a hole where his anger had eaten away at something fundamentally him, leaving empty space.

Katsuki leans forward, letting his head thump against the stone.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #boku no academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugō #major character death #Sludge Villain incident gone wrong #angst #all the angst #coarse language #swearing #anger and grief #visiting graves #katuski has a sad time #something sad au #fanfiction

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

It’s Never Easy

Word Count: 2,272

Link: A03

Summary: "I lied to her." His voice was just a broken whisper. "She...she asked me if she was going to die, so I lied."

Young Pro Hero Deku deals with his first civilian death and a certain retired hero helps him cope.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood.

Notes: I wanted to write some Dadmight because I love their dynamic and I wanted to explore that. I've never really written Dadmight before so let me know what you think. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy friends!

Quinn's Masterlist!

...

Izuku trudged into the empty apartment and sluggishly pulled off his boots, tossing them haphazardly on the floor then stumbled to the sofa where he plopped down. He hadn't bothered with the lights, preferring the darkness, it was easier to hide in it than face reality at the moment. The street lamp glaring through the window provided the sole source of light, though it was far from comforting.

In the darkness he finally sunk down into the sofa leaning his head back into the plushy cushions. A grimy hand ran through his messy green locks as he let out a shaky breath. All that raw emotion he'd somehow managed to suppress for the last few hours was dangerously close to crawling up his throat. It had taken everything in him to keep it together, but now that he was in his apartment- alone and in the dark- that wall he built was crashing down faster than he could say disaster.

The silence was quickly becoming overwhelming. Hands covered his eyes as a stifled choke slipped out. That scene just kept replaying over and over and over in his head and each time he kept going over all the things that went wrong, all the things that he did wrong. For each mistake, a thousand other possibilities of what he could of done differently, but as much as he wished, he couldn't change what happened. This train of thought was only driving him deeper and deeper and there wasn't a reverse gear to back him out of this miserable pit he'd driven himself into.

A buzz in his pocket startled him out of his morbid derailment and he reached for his phone, barely glancing at the name before turning it off and throwing it on the couch next to him. He knew people would call, he knew they would want to talk, but he didn't. All he wanted was to just sit in the dark, to suffer a little longer in his own guilt. It's what he deserved, at least that's what he kept telling himself.

Wait a minute...

He froze, eyes darting over to the phone. The name of the caller suddenly clicked in his mind. All Might. He'd just hung up on All Might, or as the older man kept telling him 'Toshinori.'

With a small groan, he brushed the hair out of his eyes and sat up, debating on whether or not to call the man back. All his emotions were so scattered at the moment. He wanted to talk and not talk at the same time. He wanted Toshinori to be here and yet he also wanted to just be left alone. He wanted the world to just stop closing in on him. He wanted everything to be okay, but that was never going to happen.

Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath, then another, then another. After a while, his breathing evened out and he closed his eyes, resting his head back on the couch and straining his ears to hear the distant echoes of the trains that ran near his apartment. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep.

A loud knock on the door nearly sent him toppling off the couch. Fingers fumbled around for his phone, turning it back on, and flinching at the too bright light that glowed over his face. It was nearly two in the morning, he'd only been asleep for less than an hour. Once his phone had fully powered back on, the small device flooded his notifications with several missed calls and numerous text messages, most of them being Toshinori. Another pang of guilt dripped into his chest at the thought of ignoring his mentor. He didn't want to be rude, something he feared might happen if the retired hero found him in this sorry state.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stood up and all his muscles immediately complained. They were overworked, not that it was really any surprise, the still rookie hero always went overboard on missions. This time, he welcomed the pain. It gave him a nice distraction as he stumbled to the door. On the other side was exactly who he was expecting, although the timing was a bit late, or, he supposed, rather early in the day.

"What are you doing here?" He didn't realize how rude that sounded until it actually came out. "I mean," he sighed. "It's two in the morning All- Toshinori."

"You weren't answering." The older man simply said. "I was getting worried."

Izuku finally took the time to look the man over. He was dressed in a plain pair of sweats and a heavy coat, holding some sort of small box. His hair was a mess and his face, although always sickly and pale, seemed even more so tonight.

"I wanted to check on you." He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the empty hallway. "Maybe...talk a little?"

Talking was the last thing on Izuku's mind, but he couldn't just shut out Toshinori, no matter how upset he was. The man even drove all the way here in the dead of night. It would be downright villainous to turn him away. With a sigh, he stepped aside and let the man in.

Toshinori knew the layout of the apartment well; he'd been here enough times by now to have it memorized, but the complete darkness was making it hard to navigate. His hand smoothed along the wall until he found the switch and suddenly the apartment bloomed to life. It was a basic place with just the necessities and of course all the All Might merch Izuku had acquired over the years. Once a fanboy, always a fanboy.

"Um, Izuku," He said quietly, slipping the coat from his lanky form. "Why don't you go change and I'll make us some tea." Toshinori hesitated before continuing. "Maybe take a shower, that might do you some good."

The young pro blinked and looked down at himself. His costume was filthy and littered with dirt smeared cuts. The most glaring issue was the giant blood stain that ran from his torso down to his right leg. Even more disturbing that the blood wasn't even his. He'd been too lost in his thoughts when he got home that it didn't even cross his mind what he looked like.

"Yeah, okay." He murmured, carding his hand through his tangled hair.

A shower actually did sound pretty good at the moment, so he trudged to his room and stripped the soiled garment off, well tried to. The blood had fused the fabric and his skin together so he slowly peeled it off, trying not to look at the mistakes that were literally written in blood and woven to his skin. When he finally did get it off, he stared at the fabric lying limply in his hands. It might've been beyond repair this time, or maybe it was that he just didn't want to see the tainted suit ever again.

The warm water felt nice on his sore muscles, but the moment he looked down and saw the water pooling around his feet turn red he had to steady himself against the wall and take a deep breath. Those haunting images popped back in his head again so he turned the shower on the coldest setting and stayed there until his skin felt raw.

It was about ten minutes before Izuku came back out, flat hair dripping down onto his hoodie, and hands shoved into the pocket of his sweats. He would've looked comfortable if not for the permanent grimace on his face.

Two cups of tea had been set out on the dining table with Toshinori behind one, gingerly sipping the dark liquid. Izuku slipped into the empty seat and stared at the steaming cup.

"Feel better?" Toshinori wrapped his hands around his own cup, savoring the warmth it brought.

"I guess."

A tight silence settled over the two. Usually Izuku was all smiles with Toshinori, the man was his idol, how could he not be, but tonight was different. Tonight held a heavy, more somber mood, one Toshinori was well acquainted with, just not on his protégé.

"What's that smell?" Izuku perked his head up, his curious nature taking over as the scent of cinnamon wafted through the room.

"Oh, right." Toshinori hurried into the kitchen and came back out with a plate full of sweet smelling desserts. "I picked these up when I was in Kyoto the other day. I thought you'd appreciate them."

He set the plate between them. "Yatsuhashi?" Izuku picked up one of the crisp sweets and examined it, glad to have something else to focus on. "Thanks."

"Izuku, my boy," Toshinori gingerly sat back down. "I saw what happened on the news, but I...I wanted to...are you alright?"

Alright wasn't even in the same universe as him. He squeezed the yatsuhashi between his fingers, the hard shell cracking under the pressure. A grim frown pulled at his lips. "How did you handle that...the first time it happened?"

Toshinori folded his hands on his lap and pursed his lips. "Not well, I can tell you that."

That surprised Izuku. To him, All Might could handle anything, no matter how big or small, and always with a smile. The man seemed invincible, even after his retirement, it still seemed like he could accomplish anything. That was probably all the biased sentiment he held in his heart for the man who had filled a role much bigger than 'mentor' could even encompass. Growing up without a father had left a blank spot, something he was able to ignore for a long time, but it was one that Toshinori seemed to fit into perfectly.

"Listen Izuku," he took a deep breath and forced the boy who wasn't so much a boy anymore as he was a young man, a prospering hero, to look him in the eyes. "There are inevitably going to be times where you can't save everyone. That doesn't mean you failed as a hero."

Giant green eyes searched Toshinori's bright blue ones. "Not to her. To her, I did fail." He dropped the crushed treat back onto the plate and sunk his head into his hands. "I lied to her." His voice was nothing more than a broken whisper.

"Lied?"

"She...she asked me if she was going to die. She was crying. She was bleeding out in my arms and crying. I've never seen someone so terrified, so I lied." All that emotion he'd somehow been suppressing came rushing to the surface and he choked back a sob. "I had her, I had her in my grasp and I still couldn't save her. What kind of hero can't even save one life?"

"Did you forget about all the other lives you saved today?" Toshinori set a bony hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. "If anyone gets to call themselves hero, it's you Izuku. Out of all the people I've ever met you are the most selfless and determined person to ever walk this earth. I know I made the right choice in you Izuku, you are the truest version of a hero."

When Izuku didn't respond, he knelt next to his chair, grabbed the boys shoulders and pulled them up gently so he was facing him. "I know exactly what you're going through my boy. I've been there more times than you can count, but carrying around that blame, that, that guilt will only weigh you down." Izuku could only stare at him through tear stained eyes. "I'm so proud of the hero you've become. I'm certain that one day you'll be the very best and all the world will know-" he tapped Izuku's chest- "that you are here."

There was a moment of silence before Izuku lunged forward and collapsed into Toshinori's chest with a crushing hug. They both nearly toppled to the ground before Toshinori managed to regain his footing. It didn't matter that it was an awkward position to kneel in there was no way he was letting his boy go. His gangly arms wrapped around his boy.

His boy.

His son.

The one person whom he considered family, someone to call son, although he couldn't recall a time he'd ever actually told Izuku that, or anyone for that matter. It was more of an unspoken understanding, at least, he hoped Izuku understood. Toshinori never had any family ties and before he met Izuku there was a void he'd buried in the recesses of his mind, but now he couldn't even think of a life without Izuku in it.

"I'm sorry." Izuku sniffed into his chest and Toshinori ran a hand through his still wet curls. "Thank you Toshi...for being here."

To say that that simple nickname hadn't affected the old man would be an outright lie. Izuku had always tried so hard to be respectful, which was why he always had trouble calling Toshinori by his name instead of his title. This might've been the first time he's ever used that nickname and Toshinori, no, Toshi only squeezed tighter.

His heart couldn't help but swell and he smiled, but it wasn't his generic 'All Might' smile, no, this one was reserved for only one person. This was a smile that he could pour his entire being into. A smile that could say so much more than he ever could. This was a smile for his son.

"My boy, you don't have to thank me. It's what family does."

#midoriya izuku #pro hero midoriya #yagi toshinori #All Might #bnha #mha #slight angst #comfort #pro hero Deku #dadmight #izuku midoriya needs a hug #dadmight to the rescue #deku #crying #this boy just needs so much love #can we please get some love for poor Izuku?#he's the best

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shigarakis-fifth-hand · 3 years

Text

The “Better Half” ; A Poly KiriBaku x Reader Fanfic

Enjoy the series | one two three four five

You woke up from your sleep by the light gleaming through the open blinds, surprised to find yourself wrapped in arms. You slowly rolled over to see Kirishima, sleeping soundlessly.

You smiled softly, happy to see that he had stayed. Was this a little extreme for a guy you had met? Maybe. But again, you couldn’t help your want for someone to be there. And you had never been one to be average anyway.

You slipped out of his grasp and quickly went into the hallway. You needed to be alone for this. You stepped into Izuku’s room and closed the door behind you quickly before you looked around the room.

As if he was still there, you felt the need to be careful with all his belongings. They were still his, even if he wasn’t physically alive. You sat on his desk chair and looked around his desk. Instead of award ribbons, trophies, polaroids and A+ papers like your desk, his was very different.

Pictures of you and him when you were children went around the edge of his desk. When you had gone to the hero museum in 2nd grade, or when you two had taken Christmas photos. It was almost weird, yet it made so much sense.

He had been happiest in childhood, when the thought of being quirkless wasn’t even there. When he was an equal to all the classmates, never bullied, and treated the same. In a way, he might as well have had a quirk back then.

Bakugo treated him like a friend, classmates didn’t pick on him, and the dream of becoming a hero with you and Katsuki was still a realistic dream. Maybe that’s why he had held onto All Might and his hero dream so much.

Because it reminded him of back in the fanboy stage all of us had went through together, when all we could talk about was becoming a hero like All Might, and when Izuku was still part of that discussion.

The reality of his situation was terribly depressing to think about and accept. Maybe that’s why he got so emotional about you going to UA. He wanted to go too, but if he said that out loud, he would just be picked on more.

Yet, now that you thought about it, he had never talked about a future occupation. He always chooses to listen to others, and never say anything about his own. He lived in his own world of make-believe, and talking about anything else would ruin it.

You got out of the chair, a sudden chill down your spine knocking you out of your train of thought. You stood up and began walking to his bed. Looking among his All Might posters, figurines, and movies.

Before you could keep looking, you heard a light knock on the door. You turned around to see Kirishima smiling at you. His hair was messy, yet he looked happy. “Good morning.” He whispered, walking and wrapping his arms around you.

When he separated himself from you, he couldn’t help but look around. “Your brother was… quite the fanboy. I can’t say I’m not either though. I have a feeling I would have liked him.” Kirishima looked around at all the items surrounding you two.

“Ya… He was… He was amazing. He was always putting people first. He was quirkless… but he still wanted to be a hero.” You explained before feeling Kiri hug you from behind. You stayed there for a moment, just enjoying each other's warmth.

“Ichiko! Breakfast!” Mitsuki’s voice echoes through the hallway as you held onto Kiri’s arm, letting him lead you downstairs and to the kitchen. “Oh! I don’t think I’ve met you before. I’m Mitsuki Bakugo.” The blonde lady shook Kiri’s hand as you entered the kitchen.

“Your mom is sleeping in, we had a rough night last night.” She explained, making something in a pan while you two sat at the table. “Anyways… how’s your sleep, hun?” She asked, finally revealing in her pan what looked to be eggs.

“R-Really good.” You confessed with a blush, remembering how much you liked sleeping with Kirishima. You two were quiet as Mitsuki handed you two filled plates. “Eat up! I heard you’re training with All Might today.”

You and Kirishima ate in silence as Mitsuki went around the kitchen, mumbling random song lyrics. Finally, Mitsuki excused herself to go wake up your mother, leaving you two alone as Kirishima finished his food. Kirishima got up first, and you followed, going to the doorway.

“So… wanna hang out again tonight?” He asked as you nodded slowly. “I’d really like that.” You smiled, but before he could say anything else, you ran and hugged him. “Thank you Eijiro. I loved hanging out with you.” You confessed as he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with happiness, hugging back.

You two separated, allowing Kirishima to jump on his bike and ride off, waving happily as he left. You grinned like an idiot as you walked back into the house. There stood Inko and Mitsuki, suitcases in hand. What the heck was going on?

“Come on sweetie. I found discount tickets to the beach tonight. If you pack, the three of us can be there by tomorrow.” Inko smiled as you shook your head. “Mom… I can’t. I have training with All Might. The Entrance Exam is in a month. I don’t have too much time.”

“I know dear, but… God, you’re right. What was I thinking? Trying to go off like this…” Your mother sadly put down her bags before you picked them back up. “No, you need to go. You need this. I can stay home.” You explained as Inko sent you a questioning glance.

“Oh Inko, look at the girl! Responsible! Training for UA! Plus, Katsuki and Hisashi are right across the road! It will only be a few days.” Mitsuki tried to convince Inko, who eventually gave in. “I… I guess. Mitsuki, if you don’t mind, I’d like a minute with Ichi.”

Mitsuki grabbed the last of the bags and rushed out the door to the car, obviously happy to be having a getaway. “Oh sweetie, how are you dealing?” Inko asked, pressing her palm against your cheek.

“I’m… I’m dealing okay. I still feel like I’m gonna cry any minute but, at least I can still eat. It’s good to be distracted by Kiri and All Might.” You exclaimed as your mother nodded. “That’s why I’m leaving Honey. When I get back, we’ll spend all the time together until you go back to school.”

You nodded as your mom kissed your head and walked out, giving you a last smile before leaving. You locked the door behind her, and sighed. You were alone for the first time since Izuku’s death.

What would you do with this time? Sleep.

You would meet up with Kirishima once you felt alive again. So, with all your energy, you began to walk up the stairs. You were okay, until you looked into Izuku’s room. Like being punched in the stomach, you ran to the bathroom and vomited all the food. Ugh… why…

You sighed, brushed your teeth twice, and went back to bed. You weren’t sick obviously… you just couldn’t with food. It was as if the food didn’t want you. You began to stumble back to bed, a feeling of uneasiness in you as you finally managed to get to your bed.

You flopped on the bed like a dead fish, enjoying the warmth of the bed from the boy who had left. You could smell his cologne, and you could stare out the window and imagine him riding back to your house any hour now. You wanted to learn more about the kind, cute not-so-stranger.

Visions flooded your mind as you floated into dreamland. It was Kirishima and you, just skateboarding. Under you was clouds, and above you was a sunset. It was beautiful. You two skated for awhile, until a ramp came before you, sending you two flying into a pile of sand.

When you got back up, you looked around to see you were at the beach again. Smiling, you went to pull Kirishima’s foot out of the sand. But as he came out, you saw it was Katsuki next to you, and not Kirishima. You weren’t startled.

“You okay?” He asked, grinning as he leaned in. You finally kissed him, enjoying the feeling like in the classroom. Of course, the moment you two touched lips, he disappeared from your view. You looked around, only to be startled to see Izuku.

Standing behind you, he seemed to stare at you with a distant look. You got up and ran to him as fast as you could, nearly tripping. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close, scared he’d disappear too. But he didn’t…

When you separated to look at him, you began to see his skin turn more pale and gray than usual, and his eyes became black. “I’m dead, but I’ve never felt more alive.” He whispered, grinning creepily.

Shivers went down your spine. No. “No, you’re supposed to be alive. You’re supposed to be here with me! You weren’t supposed to die Izuku!” You sobbed into his shoulder before he looked up at you.

“We will be reunited in the future. I promise.” He moved through the hair out of your face before turning to dust in your arms. You fell to the ground and began sobbing, missing him. You knew this was a dream, but you wanted to hold him so bad.

You woke up in a panic, changing clothes and quickly throwing on a jacket, baseball hat, and shoes. You ran out the door and to the beach. It was stupid, but you felt the need to go there. Falling to your knees, you stared out at the ocean in despair.

You needed to go see him. You needed to… touch him one more time. You wanted to see his fluffy hair or freckles and know it was okay, like you would if he was alive. You got out of the sand and began to walk back to the sidewalk when a red car pulled up.

You began walking faster, noticing how bare the streets were, and how far you were from home without your skateboard. As you began walking faster, it began driving faster. In a rush of the moment, you ran across to the side of the street.

Looking behind you, the car drove to the side of the street closest to you. Not even bothering to act like you didn’t notice, you began sprinting as fast as you could down the sidewalk, looking for someone around. Sure enough, it sped up.

Finally you were about to run into someone’s backyard when All Might stuck his head out the window. “Hey Sport! Wanna get lunch?” He grinned like an idiot as you sighed in relief. “Sure.” You walked back to the passenger side and hopped in.

“Sorry for scaring you. I saw you walking from the beach and wanted to get some lunch.” All Might explained was he began driving towards the city. “Oh, it’s fine. I just didn’t know the top hero had a car and got freaked out.”

All Might laughed out loud. “Ya, that’s what my friends say. I started driving only recently, but it’s good for conserving my energy. Plus, I know I could get any car, but this one doesn’t cause any attention.” He turned into the city on one of the many more expensive streets and pulled into a street parking spot.

“I guess a G-Wagon would be a little extreme for someone trying to hide their identity. Heyyy… do you know where we’re going?” You asked as he nodded, smiling happily. You two got out of the car and walked on the sidewalk, holding onto his arm.

You hid your face under your cap whenever you passed any younger people, and used All Might as a blocker when you passed a group of teenage girls. “That is one reason why I’m happy to have my hero form and normal form.” He joked, noticing what you were doing quickly.

“Why? Being All Might is like… the biggest deal in the world.” You smiled at him with confusion. “Yes, but I’ve never been able to drive a car before. And I’ve never been able to go grocery shopping. And I don’t have to have bodyguards around my house anymore.”

You nodded, kind of understanding where he was coming from. Finally, you two arrived at the restaurant. All Might told the hostess about his reservation, and allowed you to follow her inside.

With all the chandeliers, curtains, and men in business suits, you were happy you chose to wear jeans and not sweatpants. You and All Might sat down, and began talking about UA. “You are applying right?” He asked while looking over the menu.

“I… Yes, yes I am. It’s just hard. Izu wanted to go to UA when we were kids. Being a hero was his one dream.” You laughed sadly, trying not to cry in such a nice place. “It’s just… I feel like life is going too fast.” You explained to All Might.

“I met a stranger two days ago and he already spent the night. Izuku died and I’m already talking to friends and my mom is already going on vacation. I just got out of junior high and I’m already talking about UA.” He nodded, understanding before he sighed and grabbed your hand.

“Life goes fast, and it’s hard to keep up, but if life were to stop then what’s the point?” He explained kindly. “Also… your moms on vacation?! And you didn’t tell me?! Who are you staying with?! You’re a minor!!” All Might exclaimed as you giggled lightly at his humorous confusion.

“My neighbors across the street are always there for me, and I’m good at keeping myself company. I just invite a few friends over and they keep me company.”

“You aren’t thinking of inviting that boy over, right?” All Might grinned, winking cheekily, noticing you blush. “I… He’s just a friend.” You were quick to make up a lame and obviously false excuse. Kirishima wasn’t just a friend. You two had kissed. You had cuddled with him, and confided in him about everything in just two days.

“Anyways. Let’s go back to UA. I know you’re anxious but it’s coming. The Entrance Exam is the only chance you have to show UA how much you deserve to get in. Plus, Yours Truly is becoming a teacher there as well.” He proudly exclaimed as your eyes bugged out.

“What?! Really?! How?! That’s amazing!” You smiled at him, letting him enjoy his moment.

“Well, I hate to break it to you but in the next few years my hero career will sadly end. That’s why I was looking for a successor like yourself. Plus, the 1# hero should help the youth. Not only you Young Ichiko, but all the future heroes. If I can make one of them a better hero, then I’ve succeeded in life.”

“Plus, think about all the fun I’ll have!!” You slowly smiled warmly at All Might as he continued to talk about how excited he was to be a teacher. Soon you realized that in reality, All Might really wanted to talk about his excitement towards becoming a teacher.

It was almost funny how the 1# hero who had been through the toughest battles, had so much money, and was worshipped among all was excited to teach a bunch of teenagers. It was the definition of wholesome.

Finally, the waiter came back and took your orders. Without you even mentioning it, All Might ordered your food for you and his. “Oh, and do you want anything to drink?” He asked after telling the waitress your order. “Uhh, water?” You asked as he nodded quickly. “She’ll have water.” He confirmed with the waitress as she smiled and walked off.

All Might grinned at you, almost proud of himself as he began rambling about the other teachers Hizashi and Shota. “I’m going to go wash my hands.” He mentioned before getting up and walking off. You returned to your phone, playing a dumb game, only being interrupted when the waitress came back with your meals.

“Is that your dad? He’s just adorable.” She asked, grinning as she put the food on your table. “I-uh, yes.” You lied. Were you and All Might related? No, unfortunately you could only wish. But was he father-like? Of course.

Every moment you spent with him, it only melted your heart and made you see him like a father-figure more and more. A father-figure happened to be something that you had been wanting for years since your own father had left. And here he was, smiling like an idiot at you.

She quickly left, leaving you to see All Might standing behind her. “Alright, let’s dig in.” He motioned to the food, pretending like he hadn't heard your conversation. Of course, some things were just better unsaid. You talked about how you and Kiri had been training, and about how you were nervous to prepare for the entrance exam. He calmed your nerves though, and you left feeling better then when you had gone in.

He drove you to your house, and dropped you off, happy to see Kirishima sitting on the step of your front porch, playing a game on his phone. He gave you a nod and let you out, watching you walk towards him. “Hey stranger.” You smiled, watching his reaction as he noticed you were there. “Hey. I told my friends about you so much they didn’t believe me, but then I missed you so I left them. They’re getting kind of boring compared to you.”

You were shocked by the amount of honesty, but it made you smile at the thought of him bragging about you to his buddies and then missing you. You two walked inside, happy to see it was just a few hours past noon. “Let’s order some food.” He smiled, grabbing his phone and calling a pizza place.

You two laid on the couch, leaning against each other and watching movies that were so cringe they were funny. Suddenly though, a kiss scene came on the movie. They had been best friends, and now had confessed their feelings for one another. You both knew how each other felt about the other, and couldn’t help but glance at one another. “I… I’ll go get you a drink. What do you want? S-” As you passed Kirishima, he grabbed you by the waist, spun you around, and kissed you.

With his one hand on your waist tightly, and his other cupping your face gently, you felt at ease. After such a good day with All Might, you wanted nothing more than to end the night kissing Kirishima. His hands moved down to your ass before he separated his lips from yours to look at you. “Is this… okay?” He breathed heavily, making sure you were okay with this. You nodded, before pushing him down on the couch and getting on top of him. You pressed your lips to his as you felt him touch you all over. “How… about… we move this upstairs?” He asked, watching as you nodded. You were nervous, but excited. Everything was moving so fast, but you couldn’t help but want it. After so much, you wanted something good. Kirishima had made you feel so much better as you mentally recovered, maybe he could help you physically too.

You two walked upstairs, bumping into the walls and almost making pictures fall as Kirishima pushed you against the wall. Finally, you made it to your room and immediately were thrown onto the bed before Kirishima climbed on top of you. He kissed your neck as you pulled on his black hair, loving the feeling of him being on top of you. You put your arms up, not losing eye contact as he pulled your shirt off and then pinned you under him. He kissed your neck, and then your chest. His hands ran along with your lacy bra and then tugged on your jean shorts. Just as you were about to remove them, your phone began buzzing. You couldn’t help but look over to see it was your mom. Trying not to laugh, you grabbed your phone and held it up to your ear.

“H-Hello mom.” You greeted your mother as Kirishima slowly took off his shirt, continuing to look at you with such lust in his eyes. “Hey sweetie. Just calling to tell you that I’m going to book club tonight and won’t be back tonight. I might sleep over at Jani’s if I stay out too late. Maybe you can have that friend come over again. He seemed nice. Anyways, I’ll let you go.” Inko quickly explained as you felt the sudden need to throw your phone and make out with the guy currently kissing your chest.

“I will do that, thanks mom.” Just as you were about to hang up, your oblivious mother spoke once more. “Oh, don’t forget about UA tryouts next week! Can’t have you missing those! Love you baby.” And with that, your chatty mother hung up the phone, allowing you to finally put your phone away. “Who was that?” He asked, looking up at you with his adorable red eyes. “My mom. She just reminded me about UA tryouts. We’re going to do amazing.” You smiled, kissing his soft lips and taking your shorts off. Just as you were about to kiss him again, he said something. “Yeah, I’m not going to that.” He quickly commented before trying to take off your bra. You stopped him before he could. “Hey, hey. Wait a minute.”

He looked at you, confused and embarrassed. “I- I’m sorry! I thought you wanted me to… nevermind. I’ll go.” He tried to quickly stand up before you grabbed his hand and pulled him back down into a sitting position. Obliviously, you sat on his lap, ignoring the redness on his cheeks as you did so. “Look at me. You are going to the try outs, you are going to do your best, and you’re going to get into the hero course with me. Do you hear me?” You asked, seeing as he refused to look you in the eye. “Eijiro Kirishima. Do you understand? You… are amazing. So what if your quirk isn’t flashy, it’s still very powerful and I know you’ll make an amazing hero one day.” He finally looked up at you, seeing you were sincere in your words. “Do you really think so Ichiko?” He asked, working his arms around your waist and holding you closer to him. “I know so. You know what?” You smiled warmly and got up, walking to your bathroom. Kirishima couldn’t help but watch you from behind, noticing your beautiful figure.

Finally, you walked back, wearing a large shirt to cover some of you, and holding a box of red hair dye. “I dyed my hair the day before my first day of high school to boost my confidence and it was the best decision of my life.” You smiled, walking back to him and grabbing his hand. “Come on.” You pulled him into the bathroom, sat him on the edge of your tub, and smiled. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, looking nervous. Yet, at the same time, he would never say no to you. He simply couldn’t, you were too much of a goddess, wearing a see-through shirt, bra, and panties. You looked hot. Especially since he was just about to have sex with you. He couldn’t even imagine why you liked being around him, and now you were willing to give your virginity to him. He was so in love with you already, it was insane. He watched your face, finding it cute when you focused on his hair, giving it your serious stare down.

Finally though, you made him bend his head over in the bathtub and wash it out. He became so frantic, fidgeting with anxiety about how he would look. He had never done anything with his hair, letting it grow long and stay its original color. But now, you were going to change that. Acting like you had done this a thousand times, you washed all the dye out and got some of your hair styling cream, the extreme-hold kind, and sticking his hair up. “I promise, this is what all the guys at my high school did and they looked hot!” You explained to him as he couldn’t help but feel self conscious. You had gone to school with guys hotter than him, so why was he the one you were half-naked in front of? Not to mention how he was still shirtless, with just pants and a towel around his neck. He just felt so self-conscious now, especially with the mirror in front of him showing him all his insecurities.

After you stuck up his hair and waited for it to stay, you pulled him up and placed him in front of the large mirror. He almost gasped, not recognizing himself. The red matched his blood-red eyes, and the spiked up hair made him look like a new person. “It looks so… good?” He stated, almost confused at his sudden love for his hair. Never would he think that he’d be thinking this. “I know. I mean, you looked good before, but I love it. Here, you just have to use this every morning and you can stick it up. Although, it does look cute down too. You do whatever.” You smiled, tossing him the hair crème. “Come on, let’s go watch tv.” You smiled warmly at him and walked down the stairs, hearing him follow you. Kirishima looked behind himself at your room, blushing at the moment just hours ago.

Yet, at the same time, he had got to kiss you. He had got to see you with less on. Again, it was the same thing as a swimsuit, but Kirishima had got to touch you. Kiss you even. You would have let him take you too, and knowing that you trusted him with your goddess-like body was a blessing itself. He just felt so lucky to be with you. Were you his girlfriend? Were you just a friend with benefits? Kiri reminded himself of how you had lost your brother, and were scared of losing someone else, but you two just clicked. It was meant to be. So in a way, you two didn’t need labels immediately. Kirishima would have you for the rest of his life if he played his cards right and got the soulmate of his dreams.

Taglist !!! :

@drbumpkin @bleachbetch @toobsessedsstuff @turtle-deku @1madxson1 @badb1hh @lilacskyura @thesuitelifeofafangirl @b-kitkat20 @simpinforsukka @potatoquing @tspice283

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destinys-lies · 3 years

Text

Great Job, Internet! by destiny’s lies

Disclaimer:

Boku no hero academia and its characters do not belong to me, but Kōhei Horikoshi. Any images used are credited to their original owner(s).

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Prompt:

Day 3: Haunted—Superstition

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Author’s Note:

Just an Izuocha drabble to help improve my writing skills. I chose to do superstition.

A friend of mine (she wants to be anonymous) helped me out a lot with this story, so thanks! She made it really fun for me to write this. Also, she says, “Don’t break glass.” I hope you guys enjoy this story!

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Synopsis:

Izuku knew death was inevitable but he didn’t expect for it to come so soon and be so painfully stressful.

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Izuku sat alone on the couch, staring at the television screen. A show about haunted houses was playing. He was never the biggest fan when it came to the spooky and paranormal, but he had to admit, it was interesting to watch.

Multiple pinging sounds echoed throughout his house. It was his phone. Someone must’ve texted him.

With a tired sigh, he got up from the couch and sauntered upstairs to his bedroom to find his phone lying on his bed. He picked it up and looked at the several messages covering the screen.

They were all from Ochako.

A slight smile crawled onto this face. She was always thinking about him. He let his gaze crawl up to the pictures of him and Ochako hanging on the wall. Each picture held a precious memory from their past. He was so lucky to have her in his life.

Holding his phone in one hand, he reached the doorknob. His elbow bumped into a wall, causing a picture to fall onto the ground. The frame broke. His shoulders twitched by the unexpectedly loud volume of the sound. The shattered frame contained a picture of him from his younger years.

He thought nothing of it. He’d come by later to clean it. Closing the door behind him, he walked downstairs, reading the messages that Ochako had sent. She wanted him to go to the grocery store to get some ingredients to make for dinner later. He texted a message back.

Izuku would have no problem with that, he’s done it at least a thousand times. Locking the door behind him, he merrily walked down the sidewalk.

Eventually, he reached the end of the sidewalk. Beside him stood a pole with a button that allowed pedestrians to cross. He pressed the button and waited for the light to turn green.

Once the light turned green, Izuku checked both directions before proceeding. Cars on both sides of the crosswalk stood still, their engines quietly rumbling. Certain that he was in the clear, he walked down the crosswalk. The sound of loud screeching startled him. He quickly glanced in the direction to see a big, black truck speeding towards him. The driver carelessly honked the horn, showing no signs of stopping or slowing down.

Without wasting another second, he jumped out of the way onto the sidewalk. His heart violently thrummed in his chest as he glanced behind to see the speeding truck fade into the distance. He sat on the curb, trying to catch his breath before standing up.

He wiped off the dirt from his pants. A large, jagged hole in his jeans was visible on the side of his jeans.

“Great,” he grumpily muttered. “Just what I needed.”

With a huff, he continued his way onto the grocery store.

* * *

Returning from the grocery store, Izuku went on his merry way home. The sound of rushing water caught his attention and turned to look at the large pond lying in the center of the park.

I’ll cut through the park. It’ll take me home faster and the scenery looks great.

He walked up to the pond until he spotted a weird object sticking out of the pond. He leaned in to get closer until he felt a shove from behind.

“Whoopsie!” a person exclaimed before timorously dashing away.

He dove headfirst into the pond.

It was nothing to worry about though, it was just a pond. Well, that’s what he suspected. However, when he fell in, he realized the pond was way deeper than he expected. He flailed his arms as the grocery bags he clung to acted like cement bags, dragging him down. Realizing he had to sacrifice his food for his life, he let go of the bags, letting them sink to the bottom of the pond as he swam up to the top.

Emerging from the murky water, Izuku began coughing up water as he took big gulps of air.

“Today…is...really...not...my day,” he panted, trying to catch his breath.

He needed to vent to someone. Thinking of Ochako, he pulled out his wet phone to text her. He pressed the power button in an attempt to turn it on, but the water ruined it. The phone stared at him blankly.

“Are you fucking serious?!” he groaned, clenching his other hand into a fist.

He put away his phone and stomped back home, furious and soggy. The crack of thunder warned him about the impending rain. Then it rained. He began rushing home, the sound of heavy raindrops falling onto the sidewalk.

He stopped running to catch his breath before another crack of lightning struck a few feet in front of him, hitting a tree. He stood there in shock, staring at the charred tree before collecting himself and walking again. He heard a loud shout behind him and turned towards the sound, nearly getting hit by the tree that the lightning struck.

“SHIT! SOMETHING’S OUT TO GET ME!”

He dashed the rest of the way home, locking the door behind him and running up the stairs. He logged on to his computer, trying to get his mind off the disastrous series of events that occurred. His mind wandered back to the frame he shattered earlier.

Izuku decided to look through new frames on his computer to get his mind off everything. He saw a link from a discussion forum that piqued his interest. Curious, he clicked on it and began reading it through.

The guy on the forum was talking about all the things he had experienced. Strangely, all the stuff this guy mentioned he had experienced, all because he broke a picture frame. The post was five years old. He scrolled down the chat to see what the guy did to stop this “curse,” but he didn’t see any updates.

Izuku quietly read the post aloud, “When glass breaks, it’s already too late. Your life is tangled in a new fate. A new life full of despair and agony awaits until you fall and never rise again. That is when the curse breaks but at that point, it is already the end because you’ll be dead.”

DEAD? he thought. All those things that happened to him—they were because of breaking that picture. Another crack of thunder lit up the sky. “I’M GOING TO DIE!” he cried.

* * *

A few hours later, Ochako entered the house, closing the door behind her. Work had been tiresome and stressful. She closed the door. It was dark. That’s strange, she wondered. Typically Izuku is up at this time waiting for me.

She turned on the lights and looked at the couch. There in the murky darkness was Izuku covered in blankets and quivering in fear. His bloodshot eyes stared down at the ground. Her smile fell into a frown.

“Izuku?” she sympathetically asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to die, Ochako,” he whimpered as he slowly rocked himself, hugging his legs close to his chest. “I’m going to die.”

“W-What? Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, but someone’s trying to kill me. They’re after me—they all are.”

“Izuku, honey, who’s after you?”

“EVERYONE!”

“They tried to kill me with a truck! They saw me b-but they s-still ATTACKED ME! They want me to die, Ochako!” he panicked, viciously trembling. “T-THE THUNDER! THE THUNDER TRIED TO KILL ME! I UPSET THEM OCHAKO! I UPSET THE GODS! I don’t know what I’m going to do, Ochako. Should I go by a different name? Should I just wait f-for it h-happen? Wait to just die? I’m not going to die, Ochako! I’M NOT GOING TO DIE! I CAN’T DIE! I can’t die by a stupid picture!”

He waved his hands frantically, rambling on and on about the endless possibilities of dying before finally breaking down into tears. Ochako silently stared at him. She walked over to him, sitting beside him and embracing him in a hug.

“Hey Izuku, it’ll be alright. You’ll be okay.” Ochako gave him a reassuring smile. Izuku tried to smile back, but the stress of the day made it difficult.

Ochako gestured towards the door. “I think you need some fresh air. Let’s take a walk.”

Izuku followed Ochako outside, sticking close beside her. The heavy rain was now a drizzle. Ochako liked the rain, it was one of her favorite things. She always carried an umbrella with her.

Together, they walked down the sidewalk and Ochako put away the umbrella when the drizzle stopped. The streets were damp and the air was still scented with the smell of rain.

Ochako giggled as she splashed a puddle on Izuku, trying to lighten the mood. Izuku usually would’ve laughed along with her, but he was too busy watching a large dog. Its leash looked worn and loose from years of stretching it. The dog aggressively barked and growled as the two passed by. It pulled on the leash, lunging at Izuku with blood in its eyes.

Ochako realized what Izuku was worried about, so she offered to walk on the other side of the street, away from the dog.

Then all of the sudden, the dog’s leash snapped and it charged at Izuku. He ran as fast as he could run, adrenaline pushing him all the way back home.

A few minutes later, Ochako arrived, a guilty expression donning her face.

“The dog’s owner told me that he’s never acted like that before, he’s usually a sweet dog,” she worriedly explained. She shut the door behind her and walked over to Izuku, who was anxiously sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.

“It’s alright,” Izuku assured her. “I just must’ve done something to upset him.”

He chuckled nervously trying to reassure Ochako. Ochako let out an exasperated sigh. He was doing it again. She knew him too well, he was trying to hide his problems for her own ease. She wasn’t going to let it go though.

“It’s going to be okay.” She smiled comfortably at him, gently rubbing his back.

“I don’t want to die,” Izuku cried.

“You’re not going to die,” Ochako told him, leaning closer to him. She pulled a charm out of her pocket and placed it into Izuku’s hand. “Here,” she said. “Have this.”

Izuku stared at the rainbow-colored bracelet. “What is it?” Izuku asked, looking down at it.

“It’s a good luck charm. It’ll keep you safe,” she told him. “It kept me safe when I needed it. Now you need it.”

“Ochako?” Izuku stared into her soft, brown eyes, his mouth breaking into a small smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem, honey,” she replied before placing a kiss on his cheek. “Anytime.”

#izuocha #izuocha h/c week #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #day three #haunted #superstition #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha #izuocha hurt/comfort week #izuku x ochako

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Like Ghosts In Snow

Midoriya x Reader (Vampire AU)

Warnings: Blood mention, death mention, suggestive themes, light yandere??? (idk bro he was pretty much a yandere throughout the fic)

A/N: This is the last chapter I’ll be adding to one of my first fics and I wanted to share it mostly because I am actually proud of it, but also because after I posted this chapter, I went back and reread the first few chapters and... woof. All I can say is that I’ve come a very long way. It’s kind of a good reminder that all writers start out from somewhere. I know I’ve said this on my blog dozens of times, but I cannot stress this enough: in order to get better at writing, you need to W R I T E. I want to guess that I’ve written at least 500 pages of story in the last year and a half, and though I pride myself on my ideas and certain one-liners, not everything is very pretty. I can admit it. It be like that. I’ve grown since I first picked up the pen (or if we’re being literal, the phone) and it’s okay! I’m happy with where I’m at and I’ve even more excited to see how I’ll improve within the next year, too! Anyways, read this if you want! There are major plot spoilers in this last chapter, obviously, but if you wanna learn what happens the chronological way, you must brave my writing circa 2018 :’). I wanted to say thank you all for joining me on this wacky, messy, bloody journey and I hope you enjoy.

“We’ve got The Cramps, Joy Division, The Doors…” Izuku hummed shifting through another stack of cassette tapes. “Oh! How about Bowie?”

The sounds of clattering pins rang in Izuku’s ears. While he was looking through music to listen to on the upcoming journey, you were looking for accessories— different pins and patches to place on yours and Izuku’s jackets and bags.

“Bowie?” You asked with obvious interest. “What album?”

“Low.”

“Ah… Grim and ethereal… sounds that make the listener think about their own mortality, and the inevitability of non-existence…”

You took a pensive pause, considering the album. Izuku loved that you thought about music so thoroughly. All Might’s comic book store has become home to you just as it had been with him. He loved the comfort he felt with you around. He felt home with you here.

“Perfect for driving through the desert,” Izuku mused, fingering the tape.

“Exactly,” you said, and Izuku could hear the grin in your voice. The two of you were exactly in sync— perfect for each other.

Music played on a record player the two of you decided to leave at the store as Izuku neatly placed the cassette with the rest he’d collected. He looked to you. You were slowly swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat that bounced around the second floor to the comic book store. Izuku’s eyes grew heavy as he silently watched you, appreciating the way your body moved even when you didn’t think you were being watched. He dropped the bag to the floor.

Izuku looped his arms around your waist, closing his grasp on your stomach. He leaned into you, inhaling your aroma; it was sweet like wildflowers and jasmine. Izuku closed his eyes and hummed, “dance with me…”

You let out a light chuckle, a sound Izuku adored, a sound he could never get enough of. “How many times are you going to ask me to dance with you until we finally get this show on the road?”

“Not enough.” Izuku kissed the back of your neck and you shuddered. He did so again, pressing a hand against your stomach, and you finally turned to face him, your cheeks lightly dusted in familiar warmth. He grinned and took your hand into his, bringing it up to his lips so he could peck your strong knuckles, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “Dance with me.”

You brought your arms around his shoulders and grinned. Izuku grew warm when you closed the space between the two of you, your soft body against him making him pulsate in all the right places. “How could I say no when you show me a face like that?”

Triumph coursed through Izuku’s now active veins as the two of you danced in circles inside the closed space. Your beautiful laughter battled the music as he twirled you around, relishing the moment you came back into his arms and buried your head into his shoulders. He had you. He had you, because you chose him. You came back from a plane unknown to live the rest of your undefinable days dancing and hunting with him. Not Todoroki and certainly not Kacchan. Him.

“What song is this?” You asked into his shoulder.

Izuku pursed his lips. He’d certainly heard the song before, but he couldn’t recall its name, nor what band was playing. For once in his life, he was at a loss for information, because nothing in this world existed outside of you. Hell, all the best songs in the world could be renamed after you if he had any say in it.

Izuku muttered something indecipherable, knowing too well that you didn’t actually want to know the name of the song, you merely wanted to add conversation to battle against the inevitable.

His hands slid down your back and he could feel your heartbeat pickup against his chest. At one point of his second life, the sound of your heart working to push blood through your veins would have sent him to the absolute edge, throat scorching and body aching with lust and need and thirst. Now that thirst was replaced by something less like famine and more like a greedy craving, the lust he kept for you and only you as prominent as ever. You gazed up at him and bit your lip. Your hand ghosted across his cheek, drifting to the back of his neck. Your touch was a whisper in a language he knew very well.

You loved him. You wanted him.

You stood up in your tiptoes to brush your lips across his. It was a simple peck— one that intended to be sweet, but one that didn’t fail to make Izuku even more desirous, wanting more. Whenever he had a taste of you, he’d always need more. You knew that. And so Izuku moved.

He pushed you back against the lapel pin counter, kissing you urgently as he wedged his knee between your thighs. You sighed into him, allowing Izuku to roll his tongue over yours, tasting you, basking in all that you were willing to give. A cool hand made its way under your shirt. You moaned as Izuku peppered kisses towards your neck, laving his tongue across one of the few scars that stayed present even after both of your changes. The scar was cool underneath his tongue. Your fingers knitted into the back of his curly locks when he bit down on a place that remained untouched, and you moaned again, lips tightly pressed together in hopes to not give yourself away to the man downstairs. Still, your legs wrapped around Izuku and Izuku sucked harshly in an attempt to break your resolve, because to him, there was no man downstairs; there was only you, and he wanted to hear what he could do to you.

“What if he catches us?” You whispered in a low, breathy way, your voice breaking at the word ‘catch.’ It was adorable when you tried to keep yourself a secret. It was hot when Izuku revealed that secret.

“He won’t.” Izuku quickly retorted, again latching his lips to yours while he fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, although, he couldn’t know for sure. He just didn’t care. He kissed your collarbone, your right breast, then your left, pausing only to peek up at your flustered expression and while he listened to the rapid pace your heart took. Your pupils were blown, probably mirroring his. He loved that— your mutual hunger for one another. Izuku knew he had won when you lightly pushed his head farther down, and Izuku happily obliged to take your unspoken demand.

“KIDS!” A familiar bellow shook the room even though it seemed light years away.

Izuku rubbed his cheek on your soft thigh, licking his lips as he took in you. His fingers pet you through thin cotton materials and he could nearly keel over a die when he felt the saturated evidence of your desire. He wanted so badly for you to say, ‘ignore him and play with me. I need you, Izuku. I need you now.’

“Izuku—“ you objected as his thumb teased circles around your peak. Defiantly, his tongue ran up your thigh and he pressed deeper against you, hoping that with his touch, you’d be just as lost in him as he was you.

“ARE YOU DONE?!”

“Yeah!” You called back, and Izuku’s head fell onto your leg. Betrayal, defeat, anguish. Izuku huffed.

“Awww, c’mooon,” you cooed, lifting Izuku by his chin to meet your face, “don’t be pouty! We’ll have plenty of time to continue this on the road!”

“Like in the back of the Jeep?”

You pressed your lips together. Izuku could only assume what you were thinking. You didn’t want to sleep with him in that red Jeep either because it would be disrespectful to your late, adoptive-father, or the thought that your father may have done the do in that exact spot back in his prime was a serious turnoff.

“Erm. Maybe like a motel or a tent or something.”

Izuku huffed again. You grinned, your eyes crinkling at the sides and he could only assume what you were seeing. Instead of a seductive vampire with heavily lidded eyes that drew lust out of his victim with a simple flick of his tongue, you were seeing a grumpy puppy, cheeks puffing out and skin blooming pink because he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Oh, how his face betrayed him. Oh, how he missed being one hundred percent creature of the night. There was nothing cute or sweet or childish about a man who’d stalk you in a dark alley in order to satiate his need. There was only fear, lust, and sex.

That didn’t mean that creature was completely lost to him, though you didn’t yet have to know just how much vampirism still resided in Izuku. He would show you, of course, but that was something he’d have to do little by little to keep you from fretting. It was something he could do now.

Izuku squeezed your thighs and looked you straight in the eyes. “Say that you love me.”

“I do, Izuku-“ one of your hands went to cup his face “-I love you.”

Izuku mimicked your motion, his sweet voice lowering into a darker octave. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered back, and Izuku was keenly aware of how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Forever and always.”

Izuku leaned into you, but kept himself bare centimeters from your lips. He watched you part for him, expecting a kiss, but instead he stayed there and watched you struggle to get what you wanted. He pushed his pelvis against you, and you let out a slight gasp when you felt just how much he wanted to ravage you, then and there.

“‘Zuku,” your voice was almost a whimper, a tease for what he’d be expecting later on in the night or very early in the morning. Your nails dug into his shoulder as he dragged his tongue across your lush, bottom lip. He eyed you and waited for you to start your own list filled frenzy. When you did, Izuku stepped away from the table, right when you were about to shove your back lips onto his.

“Okay!” He chirped merrily, knowing too well how his face could change into that of devilish innocence in a blink of an eye. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

You scoffed. “That’s not nice!”

Izuku smirked and headed towards the stairs. It only took a couple seconds to get you bounding after him, latching onto his hands and muttering profanities under your breath. Izuku could laugh. Even when he loses, he wins.

All Might was sending the two of you on your first hunting trip together. It was exciting for several reasons: you and Izuku were going to be alone together, the two of you were the vampire slayer’s apprentices (although, Izuku still held the claim of being a slayer prodigy) so you had everything a hunter’s heart could desire, and, again, you were going to be alone together.

All Might slammed a duffel bag onto the store’s counter, the motion letting out clinking, metallic sounds. It wasn’t cassette tapes and enamel pins in the bag that All Might prepares for you. Izuku wondered if you were nervous. He’d gone on trips before, but this was your first time. Of course, you had nothing to worry about. Izuku was never, not ever, going to let anything hurt you. He’d already made the mistake of letting that happen once when he had his back turned to you on Hizashi’s cliff, and he would not be letting that happen again.

All Might bid the two of you farewell with some tips and tricks that Izuku had already known. You looked so cute absorbing all the information you could though and Izuku was jealous. He’d make sure that he became more of a teacher to you while you were on the road.

You insisted on carrying the duffel bag to the Jeep, explaining that you weren’t fragile and that you could hold your own. Izuku insisted that he would drive, explaining that he could see better at night, although he left out the part that he really wanted to carry your sleeping body into your shared motel room.

You clambered into the passenger seat, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement. You’d expressed plenty of times how badly you missed being on the road, and it was clear to Izuku as you sifted through all your borrowed cassette tapes how good this was going to be for you. Your good mood was infectious.

“What should we listen to first?” You asked, pulling out your top three choices.

“Whatever you want!” And Izuku meant it. There was still so much to learn about you and though you both had plenty of time on your hands, Izuku was impatient. He wanted to know everything. You seemed to choose something at random, but when you popped open the cassette player, you saw that there was something in there already.

“Oh,” you said, looking wistful. Whatever it had been, it was Aizawa’s. Izuku struggled to read your mood.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Mix tape.”

Boldly, he suggested, “we could… listen to this first…”

“Yeah…” you paused before pushing the tape back in. There was a click. Izuku started the engine and watched you. A soft smile found your face when an old sixties rock band started playing. Izuku pet your hair back and you leaned over to smooch his lips. “I can’t wait!”

“Me neither.” Izuku grinned and backed out of the parking spot. The two of you waved to the proud looking All Might and sped down the Santa Carla streets.

While Izuku drove, you sang softly to each song while you sewed patched and stuck lapel pins into yours and Izuku’s clothes. He was impressed that you knew the lyrics to nearly everything on the track and he even joined in singing during his favorite choruses. Driving with you was heaven on earth.

When Izuku got to the desert, he became a little wary— cautious of both things that lurked in the night, and secrets that he wasn’t yet ready to tell you. He was thankful that you had your own activities to keep you preoccupied, because the secret he was keeping happened to surface, but it was one that could only be seen had you been looking out for it.

Dabi and Toga, two members of his misfit, makeshift coven, had been waiting by the side of the road to see Izuku off. He knew that they, too, were like him. He was never officially apart of Selene’s coven, so when her soul was finally sent on to the next plane, Izuku didn’t quite change back exactly like the rest of the kids whose faces painted the walls of Santa Carla.

Izuku gave them a curt nod as he drove past them and when he did so, he saw that there was a new addition to their miniature coven: Ochako Uraraka. Izuku didn’t care much when he discovered her untimely demise, but knowing that she finally got half of what she wanted brought a smile to his face. He could feel happy for one of his ex-best friends, especially since he, himself, got all of what he wanted.

Izuku kept his left hand on the steering wheel, while bringing his right to your thigh. You hummed in appreciation right as ‘People Are Strange’ by The Doors came on. You gasped, and for a split second, Izuku thought it was because you loved the song. He recalled that the very first conversation he had with you was about Jim Morrison and how Izuku hinted that he was a vampire, but then you cursed under your breath.

Izuku’s brows knitted together. “What is it?”

“I pricked my finger,” you said, and turned to shuffle through things in the back. “Is the first aid kit up up here or in the trunk?”

“Are you bleeding?”

“A little,” you said bashfully.

Izuku snickered. “We’re hunters, you know. We heal in a flash.” Then Izuku smelled you. It was rich, sweet, delicious… just so you and Izuku felt that very familiar and very prominent aching.

“Let me see it.”

Izuku hoped you couldn’t hear the stern depravity in his voice. He’d let you know later on just how desperate he was to have you listen to his demand at this very second, but for now, his very hungry heart would just be thankful that you were so ready to comply. You stuck your finger out to him. Izuku was a great multitasker and he didn’t expect anyone else to be on the road at this time of the night, so he was able to take in the absolute treasure that was your crimson splendor.

He guided your finger in between his lips. His tongue rolled out and lapped at the wound, swirling around your finger. You let out the softest gasps, right before biting your lips. Izuku eyed you as he sampled your magnificence. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, but there was no chance that you liked this as much as him. Still, he adored seeing the flush of your cheeks and that faraway look you were giving him. You wanted him to devour you.

Izuku recalled promising you that he was going to savor you, and savor you he will, but for now, he would let himself indulge in the seraphic flavors of honey… sunshine…

Ambrosia.

#im actually really sad this is over #gis #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #bnha yandere #mha x reader #reader insert #bnha reader insert #yandere male #vampire au #bnha au #bnha imagine #yandere!izuku #yandere!izuku midoriya

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selohtun20 · 3 years

Text

you can’t choose what stays and what fades away

When she says sorry to her son, it’s got a double meaning.

”I’m so sorry, Izuku!”

She loved her brother, she loved him, wanted to protect him after their parents died and left them alone in an unstable world. But her brother loved heroes, grew up on the comics she’d find in dumpsters, forgotten, or cheap ones she’d grab when they had the money. Her brother read all day, comics keeping him entertained while she went out and got money any way she could. But a love of heroes meant a hatred of villains. Her brother always tended to see things in black and white.

So when he finally caught wind of what she was doing, he confronted her, tried to fight her. It was laughably easy, of course, because he was Quirkless. Or, at least, she thought he was.

Giving him a Quirk kept him safe, made it so when he left her alone, her brother wouldn’t instantly die, even with his frail state. She didn’t account for it merging with the one he already had, didn’t account for the thieves that would carry her brother’s Quirk long past his death. To kill them was her form of mourning him, when they refused to hand over their stolen Quirk. Fools, all of them. She would’ve made their deaths much quicker if they had.

Instead, Shimura Nana fights her and loses, the overconfidence that lead to her downfall passed onto her protégé. She has no desire to fight a teenager. Not while he’s so weak, not while he’s angry and foolish. She doesn’t claim to fight fair, but the boy is too stubborn to pass One for All to her. She’ll have to wait.

Hisashi is the bravest damn underling she’s ever had. Both in fighting and his dealings with her. Most of them wilt in fear, keep their heads down. Hisashi looks her in the eye, isn’t rude by any means but clearly isn’t nearly as afraid. She figured it was foolishness for a while, but the man isn’t an idiot. She wouldn’t have kept him around for so long if he were. She gave him a Quirk, yes, but he paid his dues. He had no reason to stick around, but stick around he did. Luck for her.

Falling for him wasn’t in the plans. It hardly ever was. The amount of men who’ve gone past a one-night stand is small, even after all these years. But Hisashi is charming, not all that nervous around her. Sure, he’s cautious, but she’s not about to off him over something small. He’s too useful for that, and eventually, she loves him too much for that. She’s hesitant to call it that, love, but she didn’t get this far by lying to herself. She loves him. He loves her. That, somehow, is enough.

Izuku… well, he’s not an accident, per say. Were they completely ready? No. Was she overjoyed to have a child? Absolutely. Izuku is beautiful, a tiny bundle of joy. Perhaps she’s biased, but it’s true. He’s healthy and strong, and that’s what she cares about, in the moment. Her empire and those who work for her can wait, even if it’s been radio silence for some time now. Hisashi is high enough in her ranks to guide them while she’s gone without getting too many questions. Her son is here, and she can’t bring herself to think about the world he’ll face when he gets older. But for now, she’ll raise him, protect him, keep him safe.

Raising Tomura is a petty thing, really. Shimura Nana was a hero. It’s only appropriate her grandson is a villain. Besides, it would make All Might weep, and she’s long since accepted that she tends to be petty. All Might’s attachment to his master would make him weak, would make him think twice before killing Tomura. The boy is a puppet, nothing more, nothing less. He calls her ‘Sensei’, is told that she’s a man. It works well for her cover. Hisashi helps to oversee his training, and she lets her husband borrow the voice changing Quirk she uses to talk to Tomura, makes the boy think her and Hisashi one and the same.

It’s worth it, to watch Tomura grow into a monster. The perfect little tool for her plans.

Her son can’t be a hero. He can’t be, she refuses to let him. To destroy his dreams so blatantly isn’t an option, however. He’s smart, clever like she is. He’d notice that something was wrong, perhaps not while he’s so young, but when he looks back, gets older. Her greatest enemy’s face is on her son’s walls, bedsheets, shirts, everything. Izuku adores All Might, but she swallows down the bile she feels looking at the man’s face. It doesn’t matter. Even if she thought he might grow out of his heroic desires, he can’t keep his Quirk. It’s far too much like her own.

Her son is Quirkless, because she told Ujiko as such. Not that Izuku has one anymore, but it’s not like he was born that way. The x-ray had to be modified. She refuses to hurt Izuku any further with false hope. His destruction of her son’s dreams are a little more heavy handed, but it plays into her plans. She lets it slide, gives the doctor a harsh look before she walks out the door. The man wilts slightly, but the fact that she lets him live should indicate her respect for the man. Or his usefulness, really. If he weren’t the perfect combination of intelligence and moral failings, she would’ve gotten rid of him decades ago.

All Might gets back up, even as she bleeds out. She’s got enough healing Quirks to keep her alive, and Hisashi and the doctor are by her side in an instant. It’s not pretty, the scaring she’s gained. Her eyes are gone, and the knowledge that she won’t be able to see her son anymore except in her mind stings more than she thought it might.

At least Hisashi wasn’t hurt in the battle. Someone needs to raise Izuku. He’d come back from overseas, even though she’d told him not to. He was right to do so, she can admit now. If she can scout enough illusion Quirks, she might be able to visit them. Making a story for Izuku is going to be the hard part.

Her son still wants to be a hero. Despite all the power she’s lost, how far back her plans have been pushed, perhaps that’s the biggest reason she still hates All Might.

Hisashi keeps her updated. Izuku is growing. Izuku is being pushed around and treated like shit by other kids, and she makes those kids go missing. No one hurts her baby. Katsuki stays around only because Izuku is too attached to him. If he went missing, Izuku would investigate, no matter his age. Izuku is still too smart for his own good, still patches himself up and she hates it, hates that she’s not there to kiss his wounds and see him off in the mornings and be there for him. She heals him, when she can. Sneaks into his room at night and does her best to make the scars fade, even if it’s only a little. She can’t stay forever. If Izuku wakes up, there would be far too much to explain.

But her son pushes through it, still wanting to be a hero, still wanting to save people and help them. Hisashi toes the line, he tells her, because he doesn’t want Izuku to realize what he’s trying to do, and she’s always been better with subtle manipulations. He writes in his notebooks, mumbles ideas and strengths and weaknesses and analysis and she’s proud of him. It runs in the family, because Hisashi’s never been quite that good. It’s a skill he encourages, a skill she encourages when they talk on the phone, even if Izuku seems determined to use his knowledge to become a hero.

Hisashi tells her that he came home beaming, once, his notebook clutched tightly to his chest, slightly damp, and she vows to find a way to kill Katsuki and his little gang as soon as Izuku loses his attachment to the boy. But still, he was delighted, and for once, she lets herself not look too much into it. Izuku is happy, instead of the fake smile Hisashi tells her he plasters on sometimes. There’s only so much prying either of them can do before Izuku closes off again. Her son is happy, and she’s going to let him stay that way. With any luck, it’ll stop his heroic ambitions.

The USJ fails, because she knew it would. Tomura is too angry, too impulsive to plan anything like that out fully. Heroes tend to find a way to pull through, and when they target children that’s even more true. If Katsuki had died or been injured in the attack, she might’ve considered it a success, but sadly he didn’t. A shame, truly.

Her blood runs cold at Tomura’s ranting about a green haired boy with freckles and a Quirk he should not have.

Hisashi calls that night, asking her if the attack was her own. She asks if he knew Izuku had applied to the hero course. Apparently, he had not. The only reason he’d even known was because of the attack, and the ensuing paperwork he’d filled out. Izuku had gotten injured the day before, but must’ve forged Hisashi’s signature.

Her son has a Quirk. Her son has a Quirk. This is her worst nightmare. The only Quirk that can be passed on that doesn’t come from her is One for All. It shatters his bones, apparently, and she almost screams at the idea of it. Out of all the children in the world, why Izuku? Why did All Might have to corrupt her son so far, take him away from her?

She can’t warn Tomura to stay away from a certain child. He’s unaware of her family, and she would like to keep it that way. She can’t pull her son from U.A., not when she hasn’t been there for so long, and Hisashi can’t really either. If they do now, there will be suspicion on them both, and that’s the last thing either of them needs. She’s not known, but Hisashi sadly is. His face is different, but the Quirk is the same. If records get pulled, they’ll be caught in an instant.

She’s stuck, and it’s horrifying to her.

Search isn’t perfect, but it lets her see her son again. He’s unhappy at Katsuki’s kidnapping, but she’s delighted. When Tomura inevitably cannot push the child to his side, he’ll go to her. He can join his lackeys once again. It’s a wonderful thing, even though she can’t help but feel burning hate towards the villains that harmed her son. Muscular is perhaps lucky that he’s in jail. If she had her way, he’d be screaming for a long time, before being shoved towards the doctor to be made into something actually useful.

Izuku, of course, decides to save his childhood bully. The wall stays intact, because she refuses to harm her son. Losing the brat is worth her son’s continued life, even as she gets shoved into Tartarus, even as she’s powerless to stop Izuku from hurting himself over and over and over again. She’s forced to see him break his body, die repeatedly to save a single child, only brought back from the edge by the volatile Rewind Quirk the child possesses.

Rewind, huh? That could be useful to her.

#bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #BNHA au #bnha #my fic #afo is izuku's parent #afo is midoriya inko #what i am now dubbing as 'mom for one'#mom for one

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blackbatsnwitchshats · 3 years

Text

New Opportunities Ch. 6

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: Ichidai's first day back to school, and the following weeks after.

______________________

"We found your runner."

"And?"

"He's dead."

"Well then, we'll proceed as planned. Operation 'Infiltrate U.A.' is officially a go"

______________________

All For One stood still as Kurogiri tightened the tie around his neck, fighting the urge to rip the abhorrent thing off and hurl it out the window of his new apartment.

While the petulant action might have matched his appearance, it still would have been a highly childish thing to do and he didn't want such things to become a habit. Tomura might have been prone to such fits, but he wasn't Tomura. He had more patience than that.

Most days anyway.

Today would be his first day at Aldera Junior High though, and he wasn't one to forgo first impressions. He wanted to get there on time, preferably earlier, and scope out the place he'd be haunting for the next two years. Yes, haunting, because he fully intended to make his teachers' and peers' lives as much of a living hell as he possibly could throughout the duration of his education there.

All For One nearly snorted out loud at that thought. Aldera was the bottom of the barrel in terms of schooling. Its reputation -if anyone could say it had any at all- was so deep in a trench it wouldn't ever be climbing out. There wasn't anything they could teach him that he didn't already know. The only thing they could provide him with was a proper alibi for his new role.

He might have never finished his schooling as a child the first time around, but All For One was fairly certain he was in for doing a whole lot of nothing for the next two years. Outside of building up some muscle to properly wield his quirk, which he could do just fine on his own, there wasn't a whole lot he needed to do. His body would be ready when it was ready and forcing it would only cause issues in the long run.

The best thing for him to do right now was lay low and attract as little attention to himself as possible.

He'd more or less managed that for well over a century. It'd be a piece of cake.

"You have your new phone?" Kurogiri asked, "Both my number as well as Tomura's are in there should you need us."

All For One nodded. "Yes, I double checked last night."

"Good. Let's head out. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have to deal with the morning rush."

"Ditto."

As they passed Tomura on their way to the door, he waved without looking up from his game and said, "Have a good day in Hell, S- Ichidai."

All For One quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled his shoes on. "Kurogiri homeschooled you. How do you know whether it'll be Hell or not?"

Tomura shrugged. "I don't, but everyone in my game servers says it is or was for them."

"Well, ...I suppose you're not wrong. I'll see you when I get back."

"See you then."

______________________

Unfortunately, because something had gone wrong in the administrative process while filing his papers, All For One didn't get to do any sort of roaming before classes. That alone annoyed him. What really got under his skin, though, was the fact he'd had to fill out important paperwork he'd already completed again.

Now, standing at the front of a room filled with snot-nosed brats, he was just barely resisting the urge to strangle someone.

"Morning, class. Today we have a new student. Introduce yourself, kid."

Internally scathing the teacher's lackadaisical attitude, All For One plastered a polite smile on his face despite the scorn writhing in his chest. "Hello! I'm Suzuran Ichidai!"

Short and simple. To the point. Done.

Apparently not.

"And?"

All For One, or rather Ichidai, directed a raised eyebrow to the sad excuse of a teacher. "'And,' what?"

"Your quirk. What is it and what does it do? Why don't you show off a bit, get it out of your system before we start class."

Ha! Yeah, no. That'd be a very bad idea.

"Ichidai" leveled the man with an unimpressed stare. "Do you want to be the one to explain to the principal and police why there's a ginormous hole in the side of the building? Because I just got here and I'd rather not get expelled on my first day."

The color in the teacher's face vanished like water down a drain. "Ah, ...In that case, feel free to take a seat. There should be an empty one at the back, next to the window."

"Thank you."

The words themselves were polite, but -had they been a tangible thing- the sheer amount of sarcasm laced within them could have killed the entire class.

Various students eyed him warily as he made his way down the isle leading to his seat and he rolled his own eyes. Clearly he'd made quite an impression. Good. Intimidated was better than curious. The fewer people he had around him, the better.

He didn't need anyone getting nosy and snooping around all up in his business.

As class finally started, he took his sweet time carefully assessing the quirks he could see around him. He knew what they were, of course; gaining access to Aldera's student records had been laughably easy. However, reading about something on a computer was very different from seeing said thing in person. More often than not, people tended to embellish or downplay things whenever they thought they could get away with it. Regardless of whether that was the case or the kids simply not knowing what their quirks were truly capable of, taking things at face value would have been incredibly foolish.

Out of twenty-nine quirks, twenty-two of them were heteromorphic and unusable to him anyway. Frog-throat, luminescent skin, and stretchy eyes? Unique, but certainly not useful.

Only seven quirks barely caught his interest. Pyrokinesis, wind manipulation, bodily evaporation, rapid muscle growth, explosions, telekinesis and molecular solidification; all of them had potential given the right conditions. Taking them now would only cause suspicion though.

Perhaps another time...

For now, he tuned out the miserable teacher's useless droning and gazed out the window. He was in for a boring year...

______________________

Or not.

The kid with the explosion quirk was loud, and not just because of his quirk either. His entire personality shouted, "Hey! Look at me!" in an arrogant, infuriating way. Sneering at people, taunting and degrading them, even going so far as to physically assault them; he was a class A example of a bully who thought he was God's gift to Man.

All of it -combined with the fact he never shut up about becoming the next Number 1 Hero- almost made All For One want to steal his quirk out of spite.

Though the kid certainly wasn't there yet, heroes just like Bakugo Katsuki were exactly the reason why he hated the current social climate. People glorified anyone with a conventionally strong quirk; they put them on a pedestal, dubbed them a "hero," and believed they could do no wrong when it couldn't be further than the truth. Sure, there may be a few genuinely good ones, but -at the core- Hero Society was as currupt as could be. Even now, after centuries, people still considered those with heteromorphic or so-called villainous quirks to be less than human.

Goodness forbid someone end up quirkless in this time period, because it might as well be death sentence.

Case and point being Midoriya Izuku's existence.

For the first few weeks, "Ichidai" bore witness to the systematic debasement and abuse his lone quirkless classmate went through. Day after day, people left ill-willed flowers on the timid boy's desk, destroyed his personal belongings, and shoved him around like an unwanted plaything. All while the teachers turned a blind eye to everything.

It stirred a fury in his gut he hadn't felt in a long time.

Wasn't this what he'd fought against, once upon a time? Perhaps not for the sole purpose of the vulnerable and less fortunate, but it'd been a rather large part of it... No one deserved to be harrassed over something they had no say in.

Everyone deserved to exist without feeling like they had no right to.

All For One's tolerance eventually ran out, and he snapped, "Good grief! Do you ever shut up?"

"Ha?"

Bakugou, as well as several startled others, turned to him upon realizing he was the one who'd spoken. Their reaction wasn't surprising, considering he'd barely said a lick of anything to anyone in the entire three weeks he'd shared classes with them so far.

"You wanna say that again, newbie?" Bakugo suggested threateningly, ditching Midoriya to sneer in Ichidai's face instead.

Ichidai wasn't impressed, sneering right back at the blond without issue. "No, I don't think I will. You heard me just fine, didn't you?"

He gasped and held a hand up to his chest dramatically as he widened his eyes in false surprise. "That is... unless you're deaf."

After all, an immunity or tolerance to one's own quirk was never a guarentee. Given what Bakugou's quirk was, it very well may have been the case for why he was so loud. If it was, ...well, All For One had never had any issues taking potshots at people, especially people he didn't particularly care for.

Unfortunately for Bakugou, he fell into that category.

Grinning smugly, Ichidai watched the blond briefly freeze before he was roughly grabbed by the collar and jerked out of his seat.

"You wanna die?" Bakugo snarled, "'Cause that's what's gonna happen if you go around spouting shit like that!"

"What are you; a rabid dog?" Ichidai asked condescendingly, grin transforming into something more akin to a baring of teeth. "Oh, wait- I take that back. You're more of an attention hound, aren't you? You're so used to having others cater to you and what you want that anything less than complete submissal rubs you the wrong way."

The sound of Bakugo's teeth creaking as they ground together was music to Ichidai's ears as he smiled wider. "Anything to say? Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong."

"Yeah! You are! Big time!"

"Really? Because I don't think I am."

Popping and crackling sparks burst from Bakugou's clenched fist and Ichidai laughed, "Oh no! I'm so scared! What're you going to do? Use your quirk on me?"

Bakugou went to swing his fist at Ichidai's face, only to be caught by the teacher's extended hand.

"Alright kids, that's enough," the poor excuse of an educator chastised them, "Back to your seats. Class is starting."

Ignoring the teacher, Bakugou sneered and ripped his arm out of the teacher's grip. He shot Ichidai a glare and Ichidai smiled innocently right back, like their entire spat hadn't just happened.

The sheer incandescent rage that encompassed Bakugou's face was almost enough to make Ichidai giggle.

However, the realization that the teacher had once again stopped a fight between two kids seemingly on the same playing field yet had let Bakugou rip into Midoriya like a primary schooler would a Christmas present soured Ichidai's mood.

Come lunchtime, Ichidai didn't bother leaving his seat. So busy brainstorming little ways he could inconvenience the people who'd annoyed him, he didn't even hear the bell. It was the feeling of being stared at and the sound of someone clearing their throat that caught his attention.

Ichidai looked away from the window and found Midoriya standing at his own desk a few feet away.

Midoriya fidgeted and stuttered, "I -uh, thanks for stepping in earlier. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Ichidai shrugged. "Happy to do it. His voice was getting annoying, and the teacher didn't seem in all that much of a hurry to put an end to it."

"Do you...uh, want to get lunch together?"

Ichidai thought about it. While he didn't intend to make friends with anyone, it would seem strange if there wasn't at least one person he talked to on a regular basis. He guessed Midoriya would be as fine as any -if not better- company than the rest of the loud-mouthed children in their class.

At least he knew how to be quiet.

"You know what? Sure. I brought my own lunch, but I can meet you wherever you want once you get yours."

Midoriya deflated, likely mishearing him before he jerked back up. "Wait, ...yes? You said yes?"

"I did, yes," Ichidai assured him firmly.

Midoriya smiled at him so genuinely it almost took his breath away. Truly, his grin was so bright Ichidai had no doubt he'd have been blinded again had the other boy been capable of producing light with it.

"Great!" Midoriya swung his backpack over his shoulder and raced to the door, looking back to wave at him before he left the room. "I'll meet you by the koi pond in the front courtyard!"

Ichidai waved back as the door closed, slightly bewildered by his sheer enthusiasm.

"Yeah... I'll see you there."

#BB's Writing #BNHA Fanfiction #BNHA #MHA Fanfiction #MHA #BNHA All For One #MHA All For One #BNHA Kurogiri #MHA Kurogiri #BNHA Shigaraki Tomura #MHA Shigaraki Tomura #BNHA AFO #MHA AFO #De-Aging #Age Reversal #De-Aged All For One #De-Aged AFO #New Opportunities (BNHA Fanfic)#long post under the cut

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shions-songbirds · 4 years

Text

The Great Cat Heist (or not)

(Also posted on ao3)

Shouto was sick. Which wasn’t nearly as rare as everyone in class seemed to be convinced it was. Yes, it was rare for him to get very sick, like he was right now, debilitatingly sick, but he was an extremely overstressed child who got the bare minimum of sleep to function growing up, rather than the amount a child his age would’ve actually needed. And even now, he still got far less sleep than he needed and, well, no one could say the life of the students in class A wasn’t exceptionally stressful. What he was saying is, his immune system was terrible at its job and that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.

His experience with being sick didn’t make the actual illness any less miserable, though. Fevers were a nightmare, especially considering he could generally regulate his internal body temperature, but, well, fevers existed for a reason, and with his body diverting all its energy to dealing with the virus, he didn’t have the energy to fix it even if he wanted to. Even if that wouldn’t have been a terrible idea. So he pulled his blankets over him more, cold and hot at the same time, a couple stray flurries and flickers occasionally popping into view, and he hoped he could just sweat this thing out and be done with it by the next day. While it was much better to be sick at the dorms than at home, he still didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to miss important lessons and practice. He knew the teachers didn’t much care, so long as he recovered, but he did.

He huffed. His room was a peaceful place, and it was comforting, designed like his house but without the suffocating presence of his father, without the coldness that permeated every lifeless inch of the house. There were little trinkets around his room, things he’d gotten from his friends on his birthday, or when they went out together, things they brought back from their own trips out saying it reminded them of him. Every corner of his room, traditional as it may be, was steeped in pieces of his friends, in signs that he had grown, that the person he was now was better than the person he was when he first got into UA, with proof that he did have friends now, good ones, people he loved and would do anything for.

Off to the side, there was a little plant he had gotten when he was out with Izuku, stating that the fluffy green thing reminded him of his friend. He had initially gotten it with intent to give it to his friend, but Izuku had insisted he keep it, and put it into a corner of his room, a reminder that his friend was always “in his corner” it was ridiculously cheesy and so utterly Izuku it had made him laugh and immediately comply. In addition to that, tucked beside his futon, is a dumb fluffy little sleeping cat plushie Hitoshi had given him on his birthday, one that looked like the little cat the two of them had initially bonded over when Hitoshi had found him sitting in the grass on campus, a tiny tabby that had slipped in settled on his lap. He also had a couple terrible but wonderful romance novels on his desk, gifts from Yaoyorozu, a blown up piece of his father’s merch on his dresser, courtesy of his lovely Katsuki, next to a picture Uraraka had given him on his last birthday, and there was more, everywhere. It was wonderful. And a wonderful distraction from the fact that he couldn’t currently breathe through his nose.

He couldn’t wait until one of his friends could come visit him and make this sickness feel less torturous. Of course, he didn’t want them to get sick, too, but just having someone sitting in the chair at his desk and talking to him sounded wonderful right now, since sleep had eluded him for many, many hours. He was tired, far too tired to properly engage with his friends, probably, but he needed something, if he couldn’t sleep. Something to distract his brain from the constant thought that he was so, so sleepy, and he desperately wanted a good rest. Unfortunately, no distraction would be coming soon, because his friends had class, and until the day was done, he would be forced to lie in bed limply like a dead fish, all alone.

Or at least that’s what he had expected, until he heard the door of his room fly open and gently bounce against the wall. It wasn’t a loud sound, not a proper bang, but it made a small thunk to accompany the sound of the door clicking open. He glanced up, his forehead covered in sweat, flushed to hell, and he was sure he looked disgusting, but his friends had all seen him in rough states before, and he really didn’t care if they saw him sick.

Seeing Hitoshi, though, was a surprise. And it seemed that was shared, because he seemed surprised at the state Shouto was in as well. Did nobody tell him he was ill? He was certain all of the class had known, since the teachers did, but he supposed not. Huh. He expected, then, the first words out of his friend’s mouth to be something that expressed some modicum of concern but it was not so. No, instead he got:

“You’re sick? What do you mean you’re sick? You’re my partner in crime!” which… rude. He didn’t choose to be sick, thank you. He glared weakly at Hitoshi, who completely ignored it. “I needed you to help me with something. A heist.”

“A heist?” Shouto asked, entirely unimpressed and showing it quite clearly, despite his voice sounding like he was choking on a cat.

“A cat heist!” Hitoshi explained. “How am I supposed to do a cat heist without my cat heist partner?” he asked, and really, that was not Shouto’s problem. While he enjoyed a good cat heist on a day when he didn’t feel like death but on drugs, he couldn’t find even an ounce of care within himself at this moment for it. Though… having a cat to cuddle with while sick would be pretty nice.

Okay maybe it was his problem. He looked at Hitoshi.

“What, exactly, were you thinking?” he asked. Hitoshi grinned like a cat who had caught the canary, or, he supposed, the boy who had trapped another into catching the cat that caught the canary. That was complicated. Far too complicated for his feverish brain.

“Okay so there’s this really cute calico outsi--” he cut himself off, a frown covering his face. He shook his head. “Actually, no, there’s no way we’re doing a cat heist when you’re sick. That’s way too much exertion. I’m not gonna be the one responsible for you dropping dead.”

“I won’t die,” Shouto huffed with a roll of his eyes, “it’s just a fever.” The word fever was punctuated with a cough. Hitoshi shook his head again.

“That’s a definite no. I should’ve realized when you missed class that this was a no go.” Which… was true. He probably definitely should’ve realized but still. Now Shouto was hooked on the idea of cuddling a cat.

“You can’t get my hopes up for cat cuddles and not deliver,” he huffed. That got a reaction out of Hitoshi, a small nod of acknowledgement that it was simply cruel to do that. The other didn’t say anything for a minute or two, before nodding resolutely and getting to his feet.

“I’ll be back in a little bit. Don’t move a muscle and try to take a nap if you can. You’re sick, you need a lot of rest. I’ll send Izuku through with a fever reducer and some soup for you. We all know your boyfriend is already making some for you.” He paused, stopping at the door. “Actually, can I brainwash you to sleep? Would you be okay with that?”

Considering how sleep had eluded him for… awhile, that was probably, definitely the best option. It was sweet of Hitoshi to care enough to offer, he smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds wonderful,” he said, and he felt a haze slip over his mind right as he finished speaking. Over the years, working and training together, it had become and oddly comforting feeling. Especially when he agreed to it beforehand. The hold was looser when there was consent, when he willingly gave control over, because the vice-like grip he often used was simply unnecessary. He stared at Hitoshi.

“Take a nap,” he said, the command in his voice gentle, and Shouto’s brain complied without thought, finally allowing him the drift of sleep he had longed for all day. He fell into a blissful slumber.

When he woke up, it was to a dark room. Had Izuku not come in? Or… Apparently he had slept through his visit, because beside his bed, well within reach but not close enough for him to knock around was a tray with a thermos, two pills, and a bottle of water on it. He also noted that he felt… oddly warm, but only in one part of his body, the side of his right thigh. He tilted his head, letting his eyes adjust a bit more to the dark, but he heard it before he saw it.

The faint purr of a cat filled the air, and he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before. There was a calico cat pressed against his side, his cold side, which was unusual, but he supposed, feverish as he was, both sides probably felt like his warm side. He reached down, weakly petting along the cats head. The purring grew louder. He smiled. He had a precious, purring kitty at his side. He was sure he had Hitoshi to thank for that. He wondered how that solo cat heist went. Obviously well enough that the cat got snuck into the building, but still. He’d have to ask him in the morning.

In the meantime, the feeling of sleepiness wrapped around him like his blankets, and he fell asleep once more to the comforting purring of the cat.

Purring that had persisted until morning, when he was awoken by the little thing kneading at his thigh. He smiled. His fever didn’t feel quite as bad this morning, but he still took the fever reducers on the tray, and thanked whatever god was listening that it was Sunday, meaning he wasn’t going to miss another day of class. With the fever reducer taken, he was about to grab the thermos and the spoon, and get some sustenance into his stomach, especially considering that Katsuki always made incredibly tasty food, when he noticed a slip of paper out of the corner of his eye. Careful not to disturb the cat with his movements, he adjusted to grab the paper instead, unfolding it to read.

“I hope you slept well. And you better eat, or I’ll force you to. You know that’s not an empty threat, take care of yourself.” Which was rich coming from the boy who lived off of caffeine and hardly slept, but he knew the other meant well, and knew the reason for that was the chronic nightmares and insomnia he got as a result of his quirk. Shouto could sympathize. Not for quirk, but for childhood. He kept reading. “The cat heist was a failure,” it said, which was curious, considering the cat at his side, “but I got Aizawa-sensei’s permission to bring in the cat to help you, y’know, with the whole being sick thing. He couldn’t say no when I showed him the calico’s cute little face. He insisted on naming her, though, or, rather, letting Eri name her, so meet Potato Fluff. She’s the official dorm mascot. Don’t tell Nezu.” Shouto laughed. His lips were sealed. “I’ll come visit you and her in the morning. No hoarding all the cat cuddles to yourself. Don’t die, Hitoshi”

He shook his head, though the movement made his head pound. Mistakes were made. He wondered when Hitoshi would stop by. He hoped the others did, too, eager to see them all again, considering it had been over a day now, and that was extremely weird. He seldom didn’t see his friends at least once, but after he had passed out the day before, he had passed out, apparently. He could thank Hitoshi for that. He would, when he came to visit.

He would thank him for helping him sleep, and for bringing him the cat. He was an amazing friend. He hoped he knew that. Even if he did, it wouldn’t hurt to remind him.

He scooped up the cat, bringing her closer to his chest. She didn’t protest, nuzzling in immediately, and he decided, at that moment, that he would die for Potato Fluff. And that if being sick meant cat cuddles, and his wonderful friends helping him out, and his boyfriend making him food, and this, all of this, then maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe a fever wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, and maybe being sick didn’t have to be so miserable.

He watched the door with a smile. Sure, he was still sick, and his head hurt, and he felt weak, but he had a wonderful cat and he had wonderful friends, and a wonderful boyfriend, and wonderful food his boyfriend had made for him that he was eating while holding the aforementioned wonderful cat, and this wasn’t bad at all. When he inevitably got sick again, well, he hoped it ended just like this. He kissed Potato Fluff’s little head. This was fine.

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thespiritofeon · 4 years

Note

bkdk 30? (If I request a second number, is that overkill? I just really wanna read more)

whom is comforting whom NONNIE you come to me for SOFD and request ANGST how DARE youhey everyone if you get mad at me it’s because this nonnie made me write sadsask me to tag if you need anything else tagged, please!

TW: major character death, depression

30) ...as comfortsend me a number!

It was dark, cold, even as Izuku huddled up under as many blankets as he could.

He hadn’t eaten in.... He couldn’t remember how long.

His eyes hurt from being open, staring at nothing.

His phone had stopped making noise long ago.

It had probably died.

Died.

Die.

Death.

Izuku rolled over to face the other wall.

All Might’s bright, smiling face mocked him from across the room.

He rolled onto his back and pulled his covers up, up, nearly over his head.

The silence of the room was suffocating.

It was dark. It was cold.

And Izuku was alone.

Utterly, undisputedly, all the way alone.

The weight on his chest was heavy, making it hard to breathe.

He would cry if there was anything left in his dried out, husk of a body.

A pounding in his head had his eyes shutting against the minimal light, pulling his covers all the way up for him to curl up, hold himself in the dark abyss.

The pounding refused to abate, instead somehow managed to get louder, more annoying.

Suddenly there was a loud slam and Izuku managed to piece together that the pounding wasn’t entirely in his head.

He curled in on himself tighter, doing his best to ignore the slamming of doors and beeping going on in his apartment.

Heavy footsteps - someone who didn’t care of their weight or didn’t care of Izuku trying to sleep - stomping around.

With a sigh, he found himself sliding to the edge of his bed, vision spinning and narrowing around the edges.

Pulling his large comforter around his shoulders and forcing himself unsteadily to his feet, Izuku stumbled to his door and cracked it open.

The noise that assaulted him was staggering, the crack of metal on the counter tops forcing his eyes closed, head resting against the wall next to his door.

Mouth open, no words - no sounds - coming out... Izuku’s fist tightened in frustration.

Leave. Just leave me alone.

Letting the air in his body leave in a heavy sigh, he pulled his comforter tighter around himself and forced his body to move.

Out in the open, small apartment, Izuku felt shame rush over him.

The last two meals he had tried to eat - barely touched - were still sitting out in the open, as well as accumulated cups just... Everywhere.

“Nerd.”

The nickname had his attention, but not his gaze, as he stayed standing in the middle of the room.

His body was frozen, heart dropping through his feet to splatter at the ground below.

“How did you get in?” His voice was... Nearly gone. Scratchy and hoarse from disuse.

Katsuki refused to answer immediately, turning back to the stove and what he was cooking.

Izuku slowly wiped his face, trying to keep his focus on what was going on.

His gaze landed on the dirty dishes once more, the need to remove them tugging at his gut, but unable to make himself do it.

Collapsing into his couch, he covered his face with his blanket again.

His throat closed tight, eyes pinching shut with the need to cry but inability to do so.

In all the time it took Katsuki to finish cooking and bring a plate to Izuku, sitting on the couch beside him, he hadn’t said one word.

“I got a key from your landlord.”

Izuku peeked out from his bundle of safety, watching Katsuki ignore him as he ate his own plate of food.

Katsudon.

His heart hurt.

He wanted to look away.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.” Katsuki snapped back quickly, turning to look directly at him, “You’re going to eat something.”

“I-” He paused, eyes closing tightly before he shrugged most of the way out of his blanket burrito to take his plate from Katsuki.

He stared down into the plate, before looking away, “I’m not hungry.”

Katsuki grunted, looking between Izuku and his plate of food, but saying nothing else.

He finished his plate in silence before standing up to gather the dirty dishes littered around the area, “I miss her too, Izuku.”

His gaze cut up sharply, fresh tears starting to blur his vision as he tripped over his need to speak - to comment.

He doesn’t just miss his mother.

He’s lost without her.

She was his rock. She was always there for him - for good, for bad.

“If I had just-”

“Don’t.”

“I was too worried about myself! I was supposed to see her! I was supposed to be there!”

He was sobbing, his hold on the plate in his hand failing and sending rice and pork cutlet falling around him - onto the couch, onto the floor.

Something was on his face - his own hands, moving into his hair and tugging, nearly pulling it out by the root.

There was a sudden warm weight beside him, around him, pulling his hands down and pulling him closer into - against Kacchan’s chest.

Izuku’s entire body collapsed into Katsuki’s hold, face pressing in his neck as he sobbed his heart out. “It’s my fault! I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to-”

Katsuki didn’t try to refute him, only held him, pressed gentle kisses in his hair. Against his head. Cheeks.

When he was dried out - shriveled up - once more, he stayed in Katsuki’s arms, letting Katsuki scratch his fingers through his hair and press comforting kisses against his head.

“She’s gone, Kacchan...”

“I know.”

“She’s gone.”

#bkdk #ktdk #angst #emotional trauma #character death #depression #survivors guilt #food #nonnie love #ask

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all-might-blog · 4 years

Text

The middle of nowhere

Summary:

Emily Thompson, aged nine, goes to visit one of her siblings at U.A with her sister. Things go downhill when she ends up the same room as All Might, Eraserhead, Momo, Inko (who's gone to see her son), Todoroki, Izuku, Tsuyu and Eri. Emily's quirk suddenly manifests. Turns out she has a teletransportation quirk.

Notes:

First of all, I would like to say that my life is DESTROYED. I got up to chapter 277 of MHA and now I have to wait for the NEXT CHAPTER *screams into the void* I AM DEVASTATED *sobbing* WHICH IS WHY I AM WRITING THIS. AS YOU WILL NOTICE IT'S DEPRESSING AND ANGST-I. *wailing* pls give me a moment to compose myself (Now I need to watch the MHA anime, but since it isn't on Netflix, it's gonna be hard). This fanfic was inspired by the following fanarts: It was a really well done drawing of All Might, in his weak form but dressed in a jumpsuit not unlike his hero costume, sitting on snow. Behind him, lying on the snow, was a yellow sack. I am sure that it was Eraserhead, because there was a ZZZZ onomatopia thing just above it. I took a photo of it because I was originally planning of trying to draw something like that, but in the end I decided to use it for this. This is the really annoying part: I tried finding the original fanart. I spent about fifteen minutes going through my MHA board on pinterest... and I didn’t have it there! LUCKILY I still had the copy on my camera, which meant that I hadn’t absolutely lost it! The picture below this is actually the version I downloaded from my camera. I takefull responsabilities for what happened, and apologies to the artist who drew this for having to use another copy TMT

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fanfic! Um... just a warning... it has angst, involves a near-death situation and it's kind of depressing.

THIS is the fanart I got inspired by:

(I mean... do you get the hopeless kind of vibe?)

Emily was nine, but her quirk hadn't manifested yet. She knew it would soon enough, because the doctor had told them that she was just a really late bloomer and that it would come soon enough. Her hand was grasped in her sister's as the security guard checked their permission cards. "You came here to see a student?" he grunted. "Yes. He's my brother son." she replied. "Well, your names are on the visit list, so you may come in. You have a limited time of two hours. You need to ask the headmaster if you wish for an extension." he replied. "Thanks," she replied, "Come, Emily." the small girl cheerfully waved to the guard, who waved back as the gates closed behind them. "Rebecca?" Emily asked as they made their way to the school. "Yes?" "Do you think I will ever be able to come here when I get my quirk?" "Of course. Jacob was also a late bloomer, and so was Hannah." Rebecca replied. Emily nodded, satisfied with the reply she had gotten.

"Izuku!" Inko stood up as her son entered the waiting area. She had been speaking with Todoroki, who apparently was waiting for his siblings' arrival, and Momo and Tsuyu, both of whom had just seen their families. "Hey, Mo-" the air was squeezed out of him as she wrapped him in a tight hug. "Mom, I can't-" "Sorry! It's just... it's been a week and a half since I last saw you!" she said, pulling back. "Security measures have gotten really serious ever since you came to live here." "At least they are letting family memebers in," Izuku laughed. "And I took the opportunity to see you since I am having a parent-teacher meeting with your mentors," she said. Then she spotted Eraserhead standing just outside the door, with Eri by his side and All Might standing just a bit far off. "Speaking of which…" "Mr. Deku!" Eri said, entering the room with that cute smile of hers. "Aizawa said he was gonna to have a meeting with your mom so I thought you would also be here!" "And you thought right!" Izuku said. "Mornin', miss Midoriya." Eraserhead said from the entrance with a small wave. She nodded her acknowledgement back to him. "Well, Izuku, I will see you when I finish." she said. He replied with a nod. But before she could follow his teachers out-

Emily stumbled down the hall, clutching at her head with trembling hands. "Ow. Owwwwww." she muttered. Stabs of pain and dizziness were giving her a terrible head ache. Rebecca, who had been about to enter the guest's waiting room, turned around. "Emily?" she asked, walking to her. "Are you okay?" "My head hurts," Emily muttered. "Awe. I will ask for some tea when we get to the waiting room. Come on," she said, stretching out her hand for her to take. Emily bowed her head, her dark, golden brown curls falling over her face. "Emily…?" Emily's head suddenly snapped up. Her eyes glowed blue, whites included, and her hands were trembling harder than ever. She fell to her knees with a scream. "Emily!" Rebecca shouted, dropping onto her knees in front of her younger sister. "Hey, what's going-"

There was a blinding flash of light. It filled up the corridor. Rebecca felt a spinning sensation, and the feeling that her eyes would be blown off if she didn't close them. She did, clutching Emily in her arms. It was as if she were flying. No ground beneath her. Nothing. Then she suddenly fell, yelping at how cold everything was. Emily was still clutched in her arms. She took a pair of steading breath, but the air she breathed in was freezing cold, as if she were breathing in small shards of ice. She was suddenly glad that she had chosen to wear a jumper and trousers despite the fact that it hadn't been cold. She slowly got to her knees, clutching her sister close to her as she looked out to the white wonderland surrounding her. "You will get frostbite if you don't put something warm on, miss." she looked up to see a girl standing in front of her, holding out coats for the two of them. Rebecca took them. "Thank you so much. Wh- what happened?" she asked, putting hers on. She then realized that Emily was unconcious. "Emily!" "Help me get her into that coat." the girl said as she magically produced another coat for herself. "I think she took us here." "Wha- what?" Rebecca said as she shakily helped the girl put Emily into a coat. "Do you think you will be able to carry her? She's small, so I suppose that if we take turns it will be fine. Let me just make some boots, gloves and scarfs."

"What just happened?" Todoroki coughed, getting onto his hands and knees. He looked down to find that his hands were sinking under snow. He got to his feet, looking around him. Miles and miles of snow on each side. Then he spotted something lying not too far away from him, half buried in the snow. He recognized Tsuyu's face, instantly remembering her weakness. "Tsuyu!" he called, running toward her. His feet kept sinking into the snow and, along with the strong wind, it was hard to walk in. He used his flames to melt a path over to Tsuyu. She was curled up, barely breathing. Her skin was terribly pale and she looked sick. Todoroki quickly set to using his flames to warm her body. "Are you okay?" he asked her. "Better," she murmured, shivering. "I am going to melt the snow around us and see if I can find ground. Give me a second." Todoroki quickly made massive flames, melting the snow on instants. He found frozen grass underneath it. The wind blowing his hair into his face, he helped Tsuyu down, using his ice to make an igloo-like roof over them, blocking the wind outside. He then lit a fire, holding his flaming hand close to Tsuyu. "I am sorry for having you waste your energy on me," she said feebly. "It's okay. We just need to find out what happened and get the hell outta here." he replied.

"How the hell did this even happen?" Eraserhead asked, standing up. "I have no idea. But the others could have gotten dragged alone as well." All Might replied grimly. Truth was that he felt like he would be getting frostbite any moment soon, but he knew he was tougher than that. "I think that might be Izuku," Eraserhead said suddenly. And it was, his green hair standing out in the white snow. The wind blew harder, nearly knocking them down. "Let's get to him!" All Might said. The two of them moved as quickly as possible, their feet sinking into the snow with each step they took. "All Might!" Izuku shouted, catching sight of them. Soon the three of them were together. "Is there anyone else with you?" Eraserhead asked him. "No. But I know that Mom and Eri were with me before this happened." Izuku said. "Let's go." Eraserhead growled, setting off. "Wait! We don't actually know where they are- or if they are even here!" Izuku shouted. "We might loose each other!" All Might said. "We need to wait until the wind dies down!" Eraserhead looked tortured as he said that they should dig a hole in the snow to shield themselves from the wind and cold. It pained him to know that Eri, or anyone else, could be anywhere but they had to wait the storm out. They quickly dug a large hole with a wall to protect themselves from the wind. Eraserhead had somehow brought along his sleeping sack and used it as a mantle, turning inside out so the warm part was exposed to their freezing bodies. They huddled there, hoping that the storm would die out soon enough.

"Eri, is it?" Inko wheezed. "Yeah. Are you okay?" Eri asked weakly. The two of them walked side by side, Inko using herself as a wall for Eri against the wind. She had choosen to wear warm clothes, but the snow beneath her feet was freezing cold and her hands felt numb. "I am perfectly fine. Hopefully-" she coughed, doubling over. "Sorry." "Look!" Eri suddenly said, pointing. The faint outline of a igloo could be seen through the snow-loaded wind. "Come on," Inko said, gripping Eri's hand tight in her own. As they got closer, she could see movement coming fr om inside it. She pounded on the icy surface. Before she knew it, a hole had been melted through the ice and Todoroki was helping them in. "Miss Midoriya! Eri! Are you two okay?" he asked, sealing the hole shut. A small fire burnt in the center of the space that he had made, Tsuyu sitting in front of it. The other three joined her, Todoroki making it a bit bigger. "Do you two know what happened?" Todoroki asked them. "No." Inko said quietly. "But I hope no one else had to suffer the same problem."

"Are you two okay?" Momo asked. "Yes. Emily is still unconscious, but she's not freezing to death thanks to your help." Rebecca said. Momo had set up a small tent, complete with a tiny ice melter, blankets and equipment. "Thank you." Momo said. "I am sorry my quirk couldn't be of much help. Memory is not the best in these kinds of situations…" Rebecca said. "You remembered a great deal of things about how to survive a snow storm," Momo pointed out. "Yeah... but it didn't help as much as you did." Rebecca said. "I am glad that you found us. I think we would be… if you hadn't found us." "It's fine. But when the storm settles, we need to see if there are any others."

"How long is this stupid storm going to last?" Izuku whined. "Patience, my boy. It will soon enough." All Might said. "I hope that the universe listens to you for once," Eraserhead said, covering his face with his hands. "She will be fine," Izuku said gently. "She's a strong girl." Eraserhead didn't reply, choosing to remain silent. He knew that Eri was a strong girl... but he didn't know until what point. And it was killing him. "The wind is dying down," All Might said. He stood, peering out. "I think it's safe to go out now." Eraserhead got to his feet, folding up his sack and getting out of their makeshift shelter. The other two were quick to follow his long, determined strides. They walk for a long time. Izuku's hands felt numb and he tried to warm them by stuffing them into his pickets. It didn't help much, but it was something. Net to him, All Might looked incredibly worn out, his breath coming out in clouds of vapour. "Are you-?" "Yes." All Might replied gruffly. Izuku saw right through the lie, they both knew that, but he decided not to press until it looked necessary. "Hey... what's that thing over there?" Izuku asked, smotting a small, different hill from the rest. It seemed to sparkle in the dim light. Todoroki's doing, probably. Eraserhead wasted no time as he strode forward, All Might and Izuku struggling to keep up. All Might suddenly caught his foot on something and fell over, the air getting punched right out of him. "All Might!" Izuku said, rushing back to help him up. All Might coughed, spitting blood onto the white snow. "Here," Eraserhead had nticed their falling behind and had ran back to them, noticing their positions. He gave Izuku the sack, who opened it and quickly tried wrapping it around himself and All Might, putting All Might's arm around his shoulders and helping him up. This time Eraserhead was slower as they made their way to the hill. It was like an igloo, and Izuku could just make out a flickering flame inside it. Eraserhead wasted no time in slamming his hand twice on it. Soon Todoroki was melting through the ice and helping Izuku get All Might inside. Eraserhead hopped in and Todoroki sealed it shut once more. "Eri!" Eraserhead said, noticing the small girl by the fire. She stoof up and barreled into him, hugging his knees tightly. "What- what happened to him?" Inko said in a hoarse voice when she saw All Might's state. She sat by Tsuyu, her arm around the girl's shoulder and offering extra warmth. She stood up and hurried over to help Izuku lower All Might into a comfortable position. Blood smudged his chin and his eyes were a little unfocused. He looked even weaker than before. "Todoroki! We need a little fire over here!" Tsuyu croaked. Todoroki, who had been warming up Eraserhead's cold clothes by holding his flaming hands in front of him, hurried over to them. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, holding out his flames. "Old injuries," All Might wheezed. He coughed again, blood leaking from his mouth. Izuku suddenly remembered about his missing lung. "Try not to speak," Inko whispered, patting his hand. He gave her a feeble nod. Todoroki tried to dry up as much as he could, making him feel a bit better. "What are we going to do?" Eri asked, sitting next to Eraserhead. "For now, wait until the storm is completely out. Then we need to find out if there's any-" a sudden, slamming noise came from outside, as if someone were slapping their hands on the ice. They all looked up to find three figures standing on one side of the igloo's ceiling. Todoroki quickly melted a hole through the ice. "I thought it had been you," Momo said as she jumped down. "Rebecca, pass me Emily!" a young girl was slowly lowered into her outstretched arms as a third woman jumped down, her dark brown curls dirty with snow and face wide with fear. "it worked?" she asked. "We tracked you guys down," Momo said, holding up her phone. "Only Todoroki's phone was working, so..." "Smart," Tsuyu said. "Now we just have to get Emily to wake up so that she can take us all back." Momo said, gesturing to the young girl that she had given back to Rebecca. "I'll do it," Todoroki said. He made his flames bigger and hotter, holding them close to Emily. A minute or so passed before her eyes flickered open. By then, Momo had already made blankets for all of them and specially warm jackets for Tsuyu and All Might, both of whom were the ones most affected. "Wh-what happened?" Emily asked. "Your quirk manifested," Rebecca said, gently setting her down. She crouched in front of her. "I need you to take us back. Do you think you can do that?" "I don't know." Emily whispered. She looked around at all of them, seeing how worn out they all looked. Her eyes suddenly sparkled with tears. "Did I do this?" "It was an accident." Rebecca said. Emily sniffled, hands trembling as she wiped at her tears. "I a-am so s-sorry," she sobbed. Rebecca hugged her, patting her back. "It's all right, Em." she said. "It was a small mistake. It can be fixed." "B-but I d-did t-this," Emily sobbed. "Emily, right?" Izuku crouched next to them. "When my quirk manifested I ended up breaking my entire body. We all make mistakes." "See?" Rebecca said. "We've all done mistakes. You have the chance to fix yours. I know you will be able to take us back." The little girl wiped at her tears fiercely. "Okay." she said, "I will try."

They all gave her space as she closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly. She went deep within herself, to where her power had been hiding until then. She imagined herself standing in front of a big, blue bird-like thing. Well, the image came into her head. She stretched out her hands as they begun to tremble. Everyone watched, holding their breath as she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her eyes glowed blue. A flash filled the small space. And as quick as it had started, it was done. They all found themselves in the spots they had been at before Emily's quirk had manifested. The young girl remained on her feet this time, but she looked out of balance. Rebecca, who found herself in front of her sister, hugged her tightly. "It worked!" Izuku cried. "Ah, so warm..." Tsuyu was saying, sinking onto one of the chairs. "You don't look too good," Inko was saying, helping All Might to his feet. "Just a bit off balnce and tired. Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix." he replied. "Rebecca! Emily!" they all turned to see a student enter the room. "It's been an hour! Where have you been?!" They all shared nervous laughs or looks. "It's... a very long story."

Notes:

The end! I hope you enjoyed the read (because my eyes are begging me to close)!!!

#All Might #Midoriya Inko & Izuku #Todoroki Shouto #momo yaoyozoru #Eri #Eraserhead #Emily and Rebecca Thompson #Asui Tsuyu #Angst #You might get frostbite...#Oops #They end up stuck in the middle of nowhere #Everyone is in need of hugs #Remember that thing about Tsuyu being VERY sensitive to cold weather? Sorry Tsuyu :(#Originally posted on Ao3

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unsuccesscr · 5 years

Text

here it is , the All Might death fic, roughly 4k words of pain ft; Izuku being a mess, Melissa deserving the world, and Bakugo starting a fistfight (for the greater good)

warning; major character death. no gore or graphic depictions but a lot about the grieving process.

blame @eighthilles

“Sir? Sir, you can’t go back there--” A nurse pleads after Izuku as he follows the stretcher through the expansive hallways of the hospital. Towards one of their surgical rooms. He can’t quite see, over the seeming ocean of hospital staff. Doctors and nurses dressed in crisp, clean clothing, and masks on their faces.

A bit of blond hair, one hazy, blue eye, the tips of bony fingers. And then someone’s holding him back as their wheeling the only father he’s ever known beyond huge, unyielding, double doors.

“No, no,” He protests, plaintively, but not truly putting up enough of a fight to potentially hurt the one restraining him. “I have to see him, I have to…”

I have so much I need to say.

I’m sorry

Thank you

I love you

Please don’t go

Seeming to sense his escalation in panic, the nurse gently guides him back to the waiting area. For some reason the touch is calming, and he can feel his adrenaline draining away slowly. A result of her quirk, in all likelihood, but even calmed he’s in no state to analyze it properly.

“I understand how you feel,” The woman attempts to soothe “But the sooner Mr. Yagi gets into surgery, the better his chances are.”

“Chances?” Izuku parrots, unintelligently, throat closing. “He’s going to be fine, right? He’s going to be ok?”

The nurse looks at him sadly, but doesn’t say yes. Instead she hands him a clipboard, asks him to fill it out; and tells him that she will let him know when they know something.

Izuku takes the forms and nods numbly. Spends a long time staring at the page without really seeing the question. Pen in hand and pressed against the paper but not writing a word.

How many of these questions can he actually answer? He doesn’t know any of this. Not Medical History or Family History or Medications. Even at their closest the retired pro had a habit of hiding his ailments in a ridiculous attempt to not become a ‘burden’ like he could ever be that after everything he’d done for Izuku, for the world.

The young hero begins to fill out what little information he does know. Name, age, occupation. Details the injury that All Might received from All For One nearly two decades prior. Tries not to think about how he’s the least qualified person in the world to be doing this.

And yet, somehow, he’d been All Might’s emergency contact.

He’d almost ignored the incoming call from an unknown number, deeply entrenched in getting the paperwork for the still fledgling agency sorted. No sidekicks meant that each hero had to pull their weight with police reports, incident reports, press releases. Not to mention the reassignment applications, recommendation letters, and other legal documents pertaining to the people who entered their doors looking for help. It added up, quickly, and it needed to be done.

That, in the end, was why he’d ended up relenting and answering his insistently ringing cell phone. After all, it could be an emergency.

It was an emergency.

“...ku?”

Izuku’s head snapped to attention at the sound of someone speaking directly to him, looking up at what he assumed was another doctor. Dressed in a white coat over formal attire. The older man looked familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t exactly place it. But he was smiling at Izuku with a nervous warmth.

“Deku,” the doctor starts again, and the hero’s name causes some heads to turn. Izuku isn’t shocked he wasn’t recognized earlier, he rarely is; out of costume. He didn’t have the remarkable stature of some of his colleagues and he wasn’t exactly exuding his normal levels of confidence.

“You saved my family, three years ago,” he prompts, as if sensing that Izuku has no recollection. Ah, now he remembers. This man and two young girls trapped beneath a collapsed building, fires from a barely over villain fight still raging. Of course, there were plenty of other heroes on the scene as well, all performing similar rescues. It wasn’t exactly an extraordinary achievement.

“I’m glad everyone was ok,” Izuku says, somewhat mechanically, still unable to quite function under the circumstances. “My fa...All Migh...Yagi Toshinori, do you know what happened? Will he be ok?”

The doctor’s expression shifts, closely mirroring the look of pained empathy the nurse had given Izuku before.

“Mr. Yagi suffered from acute heart failure, seemingly caused by stress. A neighbor found him outside his apartment and made the call to have him brought in. His condition is very unstable, and we won’t know until we’ve cleared the blockage if there’s been any permanent damage…”

Somewhere along the way Izuku stops listening to the explanation. Alone, he’d been all alone. Did he see? Did he hear? Did he know Izuku was here, before they took him away? Even if he didn’t….he had to know he was loved, right?

“...let you know when I know more,” The doctor concludes and Izuku nods to indicate he’d heard at least that much.

______________________

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” The doctor says, not even an hour later. And he does, truly, seem sincere. But Izuku cannot comprehend it. Dead. All Might was…

Gone.

It didn’t make any sense. Of course no one is immortal, of course All Might had that old injury to contend with. But he was always ok. Even after his retirement, he was always ok. Until he wasn’t.

The doctor is explaining, now, what went wrong during surgery. How they’d lost him on the table. How he was under anesthetic at the time, asleep. Hadn’t felt a thing.

Good, that’s good. He deserved to go peaceful.

Izuku abruptly stands up, hands the doctor the partially filled out forms, and fishes out his phone.

“Calls,” He mumbles to himself in a tone of voice so robotic even he doesn’t recognize himself. “I need to...call people. Let them know. Make arrangements.”

The doctor seems puzzled by his reaction, but gives him his space as he paces their waiting room making call after call.

“Mom? It’s Izuku,”

“Melissa? This is Midoriya Izuku,”

“Lemillion? It’s Deku,”

Over and over, repeating the news. Apologizing. Listening to the immediate, intense, feelings of grief and wondering what is wrong with him to just feel...hollow.

“Hello? Iida, it’s me, I’m at the hospital and…”

_______________________

The calls continue, well into the night and now into the next day. Izuku’s in his office once more, dressed in the same clothes as the day prior. Looking disheveled and focused. A ghost of his high-school years.

The other heroes working at the agency move around him nervously. Looking at him, then whispering to each other. He ignores it, there’s too much to do. The funeral service, friends and family. Then, of course, the public memorial. There’s the matter of what to do with possessions in All Might’s now vacant apartment, plus his remaining assets.

He’s muttering to himself now he’s aware, because more heads are turning towards him. More concerned expressions.

“Dekukun,” It’s Uraraka who seems to be feeling brave, approaching the manic hero directly “You should go home and rest, you look like you haven’t slept at all,”

“I can’t, I have to stay. I have to get things ready. The casket and flowers and...shit, I almost forgot, Katsuki and Melissa are stateside, I’ll have to book a flight--” He reaches for the phone but Uraraka puts her hand over that.

“We’ll handle that,” She says with a look that says even more pointedly that this isn’t up for debate. “That’s the point isn’t it? For us all to work as equals,”

And she’s right. That is the point of the agency. But this isn’t agency work.

“This is different, it has to be me,” Izuku shakes his head.

“Why?” Todoroki asks, not bothering to hide that he was eavesdropping on their conversation; his stare piercing through Izuku’s entire being.

“Because…” Because he owes it to All Might. Because he hadn’t been there, let him die alone. Because he’d never done what he was supposed to, never made things right. Never said all those things on the tip of his tongue. Had let his fear swallow him whole and now there was nothing left to do except arrange All Might’s funeral.

“It’s my responsibility,” Izuku says, simply. Firmly. Gathering his notes and list of numbers and cell phone. “I’ll go home, do the rest of this there. I shouldn’t be disturbing your work. I’ll be back after the memorial has finished.”

No one stops him from making his exit.

______________________________

“Izuku!” Melissa calls out the moment she sees him by the baggage claim. Katsuki stays a distance a way, watching as the young engineer rushes to hug the haggard looking hero.

Startled, just for a moment, he stumbles a foot back. Melissa, seeming to have predicted this, keeps him up right as she buries her face in his shoulder. “I can’t believe Uncle Might is gone,”

Slowly, he wraps his arms around her as well, holding her close and letting her tears wet the fabric of his shirt. He has no idea what to say, no words of comfort, so he just holds her while she collects herself. Ignores Katsuki glaring daggers at him over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Melissa says, finally, after coming up for air “I’m sorry, you must be more upset than anyone and here I am carrying on--”

“I’m fine,” Izuku replies with a tilted smile, squeezing her hand. “It’s good to see you.”

She pulls away, brushing off her clothes and sniffling a bit; clearly on the verge of even more tears. “My dad wanted to be here, too, but…”

“I know. I tried to pull some strings, get him amnesty so that he could attend but…” he trails off, shaking his head. The authorities had been clear, they consider David Shield to be too dangerous for such a journey. It was unfair, after just one incident all those years ago. It left Melissa alone, too.

“I booked you guys rooms at a hotel not far from where the service will be held, I’ll take you over so you can get some rest,” He changes the subject to one that is slightly less awkward. Katsuki continues to not say anything as he follows Izuku and Melissa out of the airport.

________________________

There isn’t much time left before the funeral service, and a lot of things to get done before hand. At least, that’s what Izuku tells himself in order to keep busy after all the invitations had been passed out and the funeral arrangements made.

He’d found a lovely funeral home to plan everything, they handled a lot of heroes. Izuku was asked to make a few decisions. Flowers, venue. What All Might was to wear when he was buried. He had suits, more fitted to his form after his retirement, but there were his hero costumes as well. Of every era. That could be refitted if needed.

Izuku thought it would be unfair, after all All Might had done for this world, to have to remain the Symbol of Peace even after being buried. And, selfishly, he wanted to say goodbye not to his childhood hero but to the man who raised him. So he’d decided on a suit.

But using the funeral home meant that there wasn’t much of an active role in the planning process. Which means large blocks of time which Izuku had requested off of work to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall. Or worse, be passed from person to person as they all expressed their condolences.

The brief stints on which he paid visits to his own apartment he’d been handed enough home made meals to feed the entirety of Japan. He’d brought them to the agency, so they could be passed out to anyone who was currently using it as refuge. It wasn’t as if he’d eat all that regardless.

That had killed an hour or so, but had come with the extra painful process of each one of his friends telling him to ‘take it easy’ and then having to persuade them that he was fine, really.

And he was. He was fine. Oddly fine. Exhausted, sure, but he’d been busy. He keeps waiting to not be fine. For it to finally hit him that All Might had died, was gone, that he’d never see him again. To cry his eyes out like Melissa did at the airport.

To cry at all.

While he waits, he finds things to do. Like pack up All Might’s old apartment. Sort his belongings into boxes so they can be stored somewhere and then auctioned off for charity. It’s what the former number one would want, Izuku is sure of it.

The man hadn’t owned much, most of it was keepsakes. Some from his years as a pro, but most from his time as a teacher at UA. Handmade trophies and cards from students. Pictures in frames and in albums. Izuku tries not to think too hard about how many of them feature himself. Pointedly avoids looking directly at a framed photo of his mom, All Might, and himself at his high school graduation ceremony.

“I can’t believe it, my little Izuku is so grown up,” Inko Midoriya wailed, holding a squirming eighteen year old Izuku in her arms as he whined in embarrassment. Still, it had felt nice. To have accomplished what no one thought he could.

Well almost no one.

All Might, the first person to ever tell him he could ever be a hero, strode right up to the small Midoriya family with a big smile. “Midoriya my boy! You really have come far, you should be proud.”

“Thanks dad,” Izuku said, the relief of finally being able to escape his mother’s grip preventing him from thinking about what he was saying. The realization hit him a moment later, a moment too late. He looked up at his teacher with a red face, sputtering. “I’m sorry--I didn’t--”

All Might looked stunned for a moment, before pulling the boy into a hug of his own. “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

That was, of course, was all it took for Izuku to start bawling. Which was exactly what he was doing when the picture had been snapped.

Now, a decade later, he stares at the photograph for just a moment, mouth dry, before gently placing it face down on the side table. There wasn’t time for reminiscing. He had to pack these things up.

________________________

As more and more people file into the room and take their seats, Izuku wonders if he should have looked for a bigger venue. He’d had the list of attendees before hand, had invited them himself, but somehow the crowd seems bigger within these solemn walls. Suffocating, even.

The air is thick, causing his brain to go hazy as he greets people as they walk in. Some shaking his hand, giving condolences; others daring to pull him into a hug. Mostly those were the people he knew well. Mirio, Iida, Uraraka, his mom. And Melissa again, as she ushered in a disgruntled Katsuki.

“Katsuki,” Izuku greets, unsure of what to say. There are so many years between them. The extended silence the most amicable their relationship has ever been. Apparently the explosive man feels less so now, keeping his hands firmly in the pockets of his dark colored suit until Izuku takes the hint and retracts his own hand. “It’s good of you to come.”

“You too,” The blonde speaks for the first time (at least to Izuku) since his plane landed. “Surprised you weren’t too busy to show up.”

Sharp red eyes wander around the room, landing on the sunflowers next to the portrait of their deceased teacher. Not exactly traditional, but Izuku had spent hours staring at, frankly, depressing flower arrangements before coming to the conclusion that All Might would have hated all of them.

Katsuki seems to agree because he actually smiles slightly. That is, until Izuku returns it with an awkward smile of his own; causing the other hero to click his tongue and frown irritably, rushing off to find his seat.

“Bakugo!” Melissa calls after him, distressed by his behavior “I don’t know what’s up with his attitude, I swear.”

“That’s just...Katsuki,” Izuku replies. Although that wasn’t entirely fair. He hadn’t been this volatile in years. But there were other people to greet and Izuku really didn’t care to spend any more time analyzing Katsuki’s sour mood.

Melissa looked hesitant, but eventually turned to find her own seat. “I’ll talk to you when it’s over, good luck, Izuku.”

______________

It’s not until the service is over that Izuku registers that he won’t remember any of it. It was as if he’d been asleep. All of it, the crying, the speeches, even his own. If he hadn’t written it down he would have no idea what he’d even said. Did it go well? He had no idea. It had all faded into the background, keeping him in a stupor.

He’s snapped to attention by a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa looks almost the same, somehow, even after all these years. His eyes say that he’s on the verge of giving Izuku a lecture, but he decides better of it as he sizes the young hero up.

“Midoriya,” He says, eventually. “It was a nice service. Go home, get some rest.”

Maybe it was force of habit but Izuku almost immediately says ‘yes Mr. Aizawa’ before he remembers he��s not 16 and a student in Eraser Head’s class anymore. So instead he forces a smile, and says “Thank you, I will. As soon as I take care of everything here.”

Aizawa pauses, opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. He opts instead to nod and give Izuku another pat on the shoulder, before leaving with the now nearly grown Eri in tow.

Things continue in this fashion. People tell him it was a nice service, express their condolences, insist he get some rest, then go home. Until almost everyone is gone. Melissa and Katsuki are waiting, hanging in the back so that Izuku can give them a ride back to their hotel.

Maybe he should have made arrangements for someone else to take them, he would probably be held up for a while. He walks over to them to suggest just that but Melissa cuts him off before he can start.

“We’re fine waiting.” She insists on Katsuki’s behalf. “It was a lovely service, Izuku, Uncle Might would have thought so too.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ nice” Katsuki spits, having reached his limit of polite conversation. “It was real fuckin’ nice how you didn’t let anyone help, like you’re the only one affected by all this. It was real fuckin’ nice that you disappeared, didn’t say a word to him for years and now show up like the prodigal son after the fact and pretend like nothing happened. It was especially nice when you stood up there and talked about All Might, the hero, the Symbol of Peace. Like he was a fuckin’ stranger. Like you didn’t even know him.”

Izuku flinches with each pointed, and frankly, true, accusation. Backing up almost subconsciously. Scared of Katsuki in a way he hadn’t been since high-school. Or, more accurately, scared of his words, scared of what he may say next.

“Do you even care? Do you give even a single shit that All Might is dead? Because you’re acting like you couldn’t care less. Did he really mean that little to you? You, the favorite, the golden child. Oh we’re so proud of Deku who can’t be fucked to pick up the fucking phone” Katsuki growls, following Izuku as he stumbles back.

“You know, I get it. Why you never talk to me. I was a jerk, the biggest asswipe on the face of the fucking planet. I made your life hell and you hate me and I deserve it. I deserve for you to pretend I don’t exist. But what I can’t fuckin’ figure out is what the hell All Might did to earn the same treatment! Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you treated him like shit when all he ever did was support you!”

“Even now you’re just staring at me with those fuckin’ zombie eyes, say something! Say something you piece of shit! Show any emotion, if you even fuckin’ still have ‘em!”

Katsuki’s impromptu speech is interrupted by Izuku’s fist connecting with his jaw.

The blonde looks stunned, holding his jaw where there’s now a large blossoming bruise. For a split second it seems like that will be the end of it before he lets out a guttural yell and tackles Izuku to the ground.

Izuku retaliates by slamming his knee, sharply, into Katsuki’s gut. Causing the taller man to cough and roll off him, briefly. They get a few more kicks and punches in before they’re separated. Izuku being lifted off of Katsuki by a not at all amused Tetsutetsu while Ashido hooks her arms under Katsuki’s shoulders to keep him from lunging again.

“Get off of me,” he hisses, shoving her away enough to stand up and straighten his suit. He glares at Izuku but makes no moves to lunge at him once more. Tetsutetsu, in turn, sets Izuku back down.

The moment his feet connect with the floor, a hand smacks him across the cheek. Before he can question it, or even comprehend what had just happened; Melissa has turned around to do the same to Katsuki.

“I can’t believe you! Both of you! Acting this way at Uncle Might’s funeral!” She scolds, potentially the angriest Izuku has ever seen the American. “What would he think, if he saw this? What would he say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” to the surprise of everyone, the sullen, bitter, words come from Izuku and not Katsuki. They turn and look at him, expecting him to apologize or give any indication that he was joking.

“It doesn’t matter!” He asserts again, wiping blood from his nose. “He’s gone! It doesn’t matter what he’d say or what he’d think because he’s gone!”

His voice cracks on the last word. Because it’s true, All Might is gone. He’d died without Izuku even getting to say goodbye; let alone all the other things.

I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, I was scared. Terrified, that you’d hate me.

I admire you, more than anyone else. And I appreciate everything you’ve done, for the world, for me. I wouldn’t be who I am without you, I wouldn’t be alive.

Because of you I had a safe childhood. Because of you one of the biggest threats to man kind is rotting in prison. Because of you people had hope. I never meant to tarnish your legacy, you’re the entire reason I wanted to be a hero in the first place.

I know it doesn’t seem like it, that it looks like i’m tearing down everything you worked for. That’s why I've been avoiding this, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I want you to be proud of me. But this is what needs to be done it’s the right thing to do. Just like what you did was right then.

You were there for me when no one else was, when my biological father couldn’t care less. You took me in, you raised me. I shouldn’t have shut you out, I shouldn’t have avoided this. I wasted precious time.

I’m sorry, thank you. I love you.

“It doesn’t matter, whatever I say, or do; it won’t reach him anymore,” Finally, the damn breaks. Starting with a gasping, hiccuped breath, silent tears streaming, working its way up to full on sobs, enough to wrack his entire frame.

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki mutters, although there’s no more malice in his tone. “I’m taking a cab back to the hotel, let me know when the waterworks are over,”

Melissa looks angry once more, like she wants to say something, but Katsuki makes his exit quickly, and chasing after him would leave the trembling Izuku alone. So instead, she holds him like he did for her, letting his tears soak her dress.

“It’s going to be alright, because I am here.”

#v;;my deku means you can do it (pro hero)#;;character death #;;out of character #i'm suffer

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iwatchanimeoccasionally · 4 years

Text

My Beetlejuice Academia

It’s finally done. Sort of. The first draft is done. I am actually fairly happy with it, though I am super exhausted and can’t make myself stay up long enough to read it, so this is unedited, I will come back tomorrow to edit, and then the revision process will start for transfer to AO3. Therefore, I’m not expecting a single soul to read this, but I want it out there in the real world so it doesn’t can’t keep taking up all the space I have in my brain.

If you do want to read it, ABSOLUTELY read this warning first. This is based off Beetlejuice, meaning there are themes of death throughout, major character deaths, and themes of suicide and suicidal thoughts/actions. I think that’s all the triggers this needs. Oh yeah, and heavy themes of child abuse. Not BJ’s fault this time Endeavor can burn in hell.

(Also, I took some liberties with characters to fit better with the plot)

A trunk slams shut on the outskirts of a small town no one has ever cared about before, signaling what should be the beginning of a perfectly normal vacation. A boy and his mom piling into the car without a care in the world, having no clue that this will be the last car ride they ever have together. No one ever told them that just down the street, before they even leave town, the brakes will give out in the car and they will both die in a crash, avoiding hitting a small dog who’s owner always leaves off leash because no one could ever get hurt because of a small dog roaming free in a small town.

Hours later, the duo stumbles into their house, cold and confused but seemingly ok.

“I’m sorry we had to miss your convention, Izuku,” Inko apologizes for the first, but probably not the last, time, breaking the silence.

Izuku turns a blinding smile on his mom and, without any hesitation replies, “Don’t worry about it! I’m just glad we’re ok, that was scary. I thought we were going to die for a second there.” A shiver racks his body then and Inko is quick to the fireplace, wanting to warm her son before he catches something.

Within moments, a fire is going and the two huddle next to it, Inko stating, “Please don’t say things like that. I don’t like thinking about you being hurt, let alone anything worse.”

Humming his recognition, Izuku leans closer to the fire. His brow furrows when he doesn’t feel any warmer, but that’s when he realizes he doesn’t feel particularly cold anyway. Even though he knows he should be, they got soaked from crashing into the river earlier. Even though it’s summer, the sun has gone down and it’s chilly outside so he has to be cold. “Hey Mom,” Izuku starts, unsure of what to even think anymore, “why isn’t the fire hot?”

It takes a second for her to answer, as if she’s just realizing that herself. “I… I don’t know, honey. But I’m not very cold,” she replies, voicing his thoughts. “Do you remember coming home?”

Her question stirs something in Izuku’s brain, but he’s not sure what it is quite yet. What he does know is that he can’t come up with those memories, either. “Did we…” he trails off, not sure how to continue, but one look at his mom makes him think she’s having the same thought.

“You sure did,” a new voice drawls, making both mother and son jump. They whip around to look at the intruder, Inko pushing Izuku behind her instinctively as they do. When they find is a boy, about Izuku’s age if looks are anything to go by, sprawled across their couch. His spiky red hair is hanging off the front and his orange and black boots are kicked up on the back. “Took you a long time to realize you were dead.”

Despite the obvious annoyance in the boy’s voice, Inko steps forward and demands an explanation. “Who are you and what are you doing in our house?”

Red eyes narrow at the pair before he pastes on a fake smile on his blue tinged lips and flips over so he’s sitting up and facing them properly. “The name’s Katsuki. I’m here to teach you guys to be ghosts, or whatever.” By the time he’s finished speaking, the friendly act is already over and Katsuki is already back to scowling at them. “You’re Inko, the kid’s Izuku, and it’s only a matter of time before this house sells. No one will know you’re still here, the living tend to ignore the strange and unusual and all that garbage. And you’re not going to be happy then, seeing as you’re trapped here for the next hundred years. So stop acting like I’m this big bad guy and let me help you keep people out of here.”

“No thank you, Katsuki,” Inko dismisses, “I think we’ll be fine. We don’t need to chase people out, anyway. I’m sure whoever buys the house will be lovely people and we can coexist if need be.” Izuku keeps a careful eye on Katsuki as his mom talks, not liking how the boy’s eyes narrow and his fists clench like he’s already prepared to get in a fight. If he’s being completely honest, he’s glad his mom said no, he’s nervous about this angry looking boy.

Katsuki takes a step forward and, just for a moment, Izuku swears he sees blood on the boy’s temples before it disappears when Katsuki heaves a deep sigh. “Whatever you say, losers. Just say my name three times when you change your minds and I’ll see if I still want to help you.” Turning to leave, Katsuki casts one glance over his shoulder and, with a smirk, points out, “By the way, your son’s on fire.”

Izuku jumps and looks down at himself, panicking when he realizes that to be the truth and both Midoriya’s frantically pat his body to put the fires out. By the time they finish, Katsuki is long gone.

“Please never call him back,” Izuku requests once they are a little more settled. “He’s kinda creepy.”

Inko smiles and nods, “Of course. He could be dangerous and you’ve already been hurt enough.” Izuku doesn’t like the hurt that flashes across his mother’s face before she excuses herself and goes upstairs.

“Mom?” he calls after her, wanting to make sure everything’s ok.

She pauses halfway up the stairs but doesn’t turn back toward Izuku, “It’s ok, Izuku. As long as we’re trapped here, we might as well just act like we’re still alive.”

-------------------

It’s all slamming doors and raised voices when the Todorokis move in. Shouto wouldn’t normally react so violently, scared of how his father might react, but he was just ripped away from the only family he’s ever known and he’s furious.

At least when he yells, “I hate you for bringing me here! I’ll find a way to get back to Mom!” before running upstairs and slamming his door with all his might when they first move in, the movers are still there so he knows there won’t be repercussions for a few hours. By then maybe he’ll have slipped out and be on his way back home.

One glance out the window tells him otherwise. Enji is back outside, pretending to supervise the workers when, in reality, Shouto knows he’s just watching the window of the room he assigned Shouto to make sure there are no escape attempts. Feeling bold, Shouto almost wants to try anyway, but all his fight is slowly leaving his system. As hopelessness sets in, Shouto collapses onto the floor, at least taking this opportunity to sleep before punishment arrives.

He’s awoken what must be hours later, judging by the low light from the moon coming in his window. When he does wake up, he’s up in an instant, even though he’s not sure what woke him. But then he hears it. The steps stomping toward him. Threatening pain behind each one.

Fear floods his system. He knows what Enji is capable of, but he’s never had the full force directed at only him before. He clearly wasn’t thinking earlier, not considering the fact that he has no form of protection or even distraction anymore.

Shouto refuses to make himself small, though, standing with his back straight and his arms at his side by the time his door is flung open. It doesn’t take much for him to realize how furious his father is. He definitely doesn’t need the quiet but menacing, “Downstairs. Now,” thrown at him as if words can be used as deadly weapons.

Smarter now than when they first arrived, Shouto ducks his head, averting eye contact, and follows Enji. He doesn’t bother looking around as the walk, knowing that this house isn’t for living in. It’s just a place to sleep and train, that’s all Shouto’s life is. And he uses the word “train” lightly. It’s not like his life is leading up to a black belt championship in anything. No, he’s supposed to take Enji’s place as a realtor, buying entire towns to ruin by selling them to the rich like Enji plans to do with this town. He stops himself from thinking what the training really is, though, not wanting to dwell on it when it’s so close to happening.

He’s not sure why, but Shouto’s surprised when Enji leads him into a fully prepared training room. Though it makes sense, of course Enji would make sure it was set up first thing, he needs to make sure Shouto knows what he did wrong today.

That surprise is his downfall, though. He doesn’t even see the first hit coming until Enji’s fist is in his stomach and he’s doubled over, already unable to breath and needing to puke. “You should’ve avoided that, Shouto,” Enji scolds, nearly spitting on his son in shame. “I’ve trained you better, you can’t be taken down by the first hit.”

Even as he’s scolding him, Enji keeps hitting Shouto, never giving him a chance to recover. First it’s an elbow to the spine, knocking Shouto to the floor when he’s already having trouble staying on his feet. Then it’s a kick to the ribs when he slowly pushes himself up onto all fours, knocking him back down. Shouto almost wants to just stay down, but he knows that would just infuriate Enji even more. So he keeps trying to get up and Enji just keeps knocking him down, scolding all the while that Shouto should be better than that.

It’s only when Shouto can’t keep pushing himself back up that Enji gets to the real heart of the matter. He puts his foot on Shouto’s wrist, putting enough pressure down to hurt, to threaten, but not enough to do any real lasting damage. “Never embarrass me like that again, do you hear me, boy?” Enji growls and Shouto wants to cry out from the pain in his hand, but he knows how dangerous it is to show weakness to his father. He forgets to reply, though, which is another big problem. Enji steps down harder and Shouto’s sure somethings got to give soon. “I said. Do. You. Hear. Me.”

Shouto drags in a deep breath and then says in his most convincing voice, “Yes sir!”

The pressure is finally relieved and Shouto sees Enji walk away out of the corner of his eye. “Good,” the man grunts as he leaves, “you have more training tomorrow. Go to bed.”

It takes an hour for him to drag himself upstairs back to his room, and he’s so exhausted by that point that he doesn’t even process the voices trying to talk to him before they remember that he can’t hear them.

------------

“We have to do something to help him!” Izuku cries, desperate for this boy that he doesn’t even know.

Inko nods and paces the attic, the only space safe from the new family in their home. “I know. But they can’t see us, so I don’t know what to do,” Inko agrees, just as lost as her son on what to do with these frantic emotions.

Izuku’s mind instantly flashes to the blonde boy from before, wondering if Katsuki could help them. But he shakes that thought away, sure that anything Katsuki would do would only make things worse for Shouto. “We could try haunting them. Maybe we could distract his dad enough that he won’t hurt Shouto anymore?” Izuku suggests even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue how he’s supposed to go about haunting people.

The night is spent trying to figure out haunting techniques, even occasionally going downstairs to Enji’s room, only to return minutes later when there is absolutely no reaction from the sleeping man. Maybe being able to wake someone up comes later, they’ll just have to wait and see.

The next morning, Izuku starts relatively small. He just waits around until Enji has his breakfast prepared and is sitting down to eat, Shouto trying to silently gather breakfast in the kitchen and not draw his father’s attention. Seeing the boy trying to eat, Izuku deliberately waits a minute to give him a chance to get something gathered, and then. He just knocks Enji’s cup of orange juice on the older man’s lap.

“What the hell!” Enji yells as soon as it happens, jumping up and tossing the newspaper he was previously perusing onto the table. Enji looks around furiously, but Shouto fled the area as soon as he heard his father yell, escaping unseen and free of suspicion of somehow being behind the prank. Enji kicks the table in rage, muttering something about it being crooked, and stomps out of the dining room to go shower.

Pride wells in Izuku’s chest when he goes to tell his mother of his success.

His trek is stopped on the second floor when a hand stops just shy of landing on his forearm. Izuku nearly jumps, even more shocked and confused when he follows the arm upward, eventually seeing Shouto looking directly at him. “I don’t know what you are, but that was probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shouto says, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Yo- You can see me?” Izuku questions, even though the answer is already clear. Shouto simply raises an eyebrow and nods in response. “But. How? The living aren’t supposed to be able to see the dead. Something about not seeing the strange and unusual?” Izuku racks his brain for Katsuki’s exact words, but Shouto shrugs and glances away before Izuku can explain further.

“Perhaps it’s because I, myself, am strange and unusual,” Shouto mutters, a furrow deep in his brow and his hand finally pulling back to himself.

Down the hall, a door slams and both boys flinch away from the noise. One glance at Shouto tells Izuku he doesn’t just want to leave him alone so, without thinking, he invites him to continue their discussion in the attic.

The moment they step into the attic, Inko greets Izuku, “How did it go? Oh, you brought a friend?” Inko’s eyes widen a little when she looks at Shouto and Izuku blushes at being called his friend.

“It went well. He’s furious. Turns out though, Shouto can see us. Or me?” Izuku looks back at Shouto and sees him waving politely at his mom so he amends again, “Us. He sees dead people.”

Izuku thinks his joke is pretty funny, but Inko doesn’t even acknowledge it and Shouto simply nods along. “I suppose I do see dead people,” Shouto agrees and Izuku wonders if he even understands the joke Izuku tried to make.

“Well, honey,” Inko starts, clearly not wanting to dwell on the fact that she and her son are dead, “we’re not planning to haunt you. We just wanted to teach your dad a lesson for hurting you. No child is going to be abused on my watch.”

Shouto snorts then, glancing over his shoulder as if he’s expecting his father to come stomping up the stairs at any moment. “Good luck with that. Nothing can stop Father from training me to be the ‘perfect son’. Even the fact that my face will always look like… this,” he gestures helplessly at his scarred eye, “He thinks I can still be what he bred me to be.”

Inko doesn’t know whether to be furious or so sad for Shouto, then, and Izuku knows that because he feels exactly the same. “You’re a human being, Shouto. You weren’t ‘bred’ to be anything other than yourself,” Inko argues, though her tone is soft like she’s just reminding Shouto of something he should have known all along.

“Shouto! Get down here now!” Enji commands, his voice seeming to carry all the way from the first floor. Jumping Shouto waves at the two ghosts and runs out of the room and down the stairs, not even saying any parting words.

The two share a look after he leaves and the seem to reach the same resigned decision at the same time. “We need that troubled boy, don’t we?” Inko asks with a sigh and Izuku can only nod.

“Katsuki,” he starts before Inko cuts him off.

“If anything bad comes of this, I don’t want it to be your responsibility,” she explains. “Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki.”

A poof of smoke fills the attic, dissipating quickly and leaving the boy with spiky hair, now blonde, leaning against the wall next to the window. His arms are crossed over his chest, but he seems generally less pissed off than his did the last they saw him. “I told you you’d need my help,” he says with a smirk.

Izuku cringes at the idea and shares a look with his mother, unsure if he’s ok to explain what they need help with. “It’s not what you said, though. We don’t mind sharing the house,” he argues, locking eyes with the demon. Katsuki raises a brow in disbelief before kicking off the wall with a scoff.

Stalking over to them, Katsuki gets right up in Izuku’s space before asking, “So what is the problem?” He circles around, coming to a stop behind Izuku and resting his chin on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Izuku winces at the smell of burning and iron, but is kept in place by the demon pressed against him. “You just that desperate for someone to show you what a real ghost is capable of?”

Cutting in, Inko pulls Izuku toward herself and leaves Katsuki watching them with a self-satisfied smirk. “We just want to stop an abusive situation. Whether that means driving the father away or making him stop what he’s doing,” Inko fills him in easily.

That puts a grin on Katsuki’s face and he twirls around, already starting for the stairs. ��Answers simple. Let’s kill that fucker,” Katsuki says all to gleefully.

Izuku runs, putting himself between Katsuki and the door. “No. We don’t want to kill anybody!” Izuku cries, holding his arms out and grabbing the door frame so Katsuki can’t just push him out of the way. Katsuki does come to an abrupt stop, but his smile drops and his hair starts to bleed red from the tips, dripping down toward his scalp.

Whirling around, Katsuki paces toward Inko, stopping inches in front of her with his face entirely too close to her for comfort. “Is that so? What is the point then?” he demands, practically yelling in her face.

Taking a step back, Inko raises her hand placating. “You said you’d teach us to haunt, is that not still an option?” she questions and Izuku doesn’t need to see Katsuki’s face to know he’s not calming. The vibrancy of his now fully red hair says all Izuku needs to know.

Luckily, Katsuki is apparently above hurting other ghosts and he just turns and kicks the nearest object, sending a chair flying against the wall for one leg to fly off. “No! Of course not! Why would you waste everyone’s time doing that when the answer is so simple?” he shouts, not even looking at either of the other ghosts as he rages. “If you’d just let me kill the guy and get his son to say my name, we could be done here. That simple.”

Izuku’s brows furrow and he momentarily forgets about the danger and clarifies, “Say your name? We’ve already done that, why do we need to get Shouto to say it?”

He doesn’t even see Katsuki coming, he just knows that the next second, all he can smell is smoke and he can practically hear a gunshot in the distance. “It doesn’t matter if you say it, Deku. I need someone living!” Katsuki growls against Izuku’s throat before he rips away and stomps off. Izuku nearly loses his balance when the demon is no longer pressing against him, but he barely manages to right himself before Katsuki turns around to stare at him again.

Chest heaving on a deep, yet unnecessary, breath, Katsuki’s hair slowly drains color and he forces himself calm. “Whatever. You ever watch a ghost movie?” Katsuki asks, his voice still stiff with barely contained anger. When both Izuku and Inko nod, Katsuki waves a hand dismissively. “Just do that shit. The only thing you can’t do is make the breathers see you. It takes a lot of concentration for newbies like you guys to make them hear you, but it’s possible. I’ll be back in a few days to see if you’re ready for me to kill him yet.”

With that Katsuki grabs Izuku by the shoulders and moves him away from the doorway. As he’s walking out, Izuku calls after him, “Wait, Mr. Katsuki, sir. Don’t you have any more advice for us?”

Katsuki pauses on the top stair to throw a disdainful look over his shoulder. “I’d want to die all over again if I watch you practice. You can figure it out.”

Then, he’s gone.

----------------

Over the next several days, Shouto grows closer to Izuku until they’re practically inseparable. Shouto has never had as much fun as watching the ghosts haunt his father in his life and he has to hold back laughter every time they knock something out of Enji’s hands or hide something immediately after he sets it down. One time, Izuku took Father’s phone hid it under a cupboard, only taking it off silent mode hours later when Father had lost his mind throwing things around and yelling about his stuff continually going missing. Then, there was the day when Father didn’t bother Shouto at all, exhausted from a night of getting woken by strange noises every time he started drifting off. The best part, though, were the times Izuku simply kept Shouto company when Father left the house.

The were joined at the hip. Except when Izuku goes to whatever ghost places Shouto can’t follow him to, that is, and Shouto is left home alone.

This was one of those times.

“Pack your things, I’m selling this house.”

The words still buzz around Shouto’s brain, said so nonchalantly as Father passed him on the stairs that morning. Of course, Shouto had simply uttered a “Yes sir,” and continued on to his room. There was nothing else to be done at the time. There’s no going against Father’s will. Shouto wishes more than anything that Izuku were here to talk about it, but the ghost boy is missing and Shouto wouldn’t know the first thing about finding him.

But that sure is an idea, isn’t it?

Father can’t rip Shouto away from his happiness and only friend if Shouto is left to haunt this place, too. All it takes is one second of consideration for Shouto to decide that’s the best option. The only option.

So he scribbles out a note quickly, before Father returns home from his trip into town and stop him, leaving it on his desk as to be found later.

I don’t know how you discovered that this place makes me happy, but you can never make me leave it. Tell Mother I’m sorry. If she ever speaks to you again, that is.

And with that, he’s off running for the attic. He glances around on his way through and, for the first time ever, he’s happy to see the Midoriyas are missing. They would try to stop him and the sad look on Inko’s face when she realizes there is a suicidal child in her home might just be enough to change his mind.

Clambering out to the room, Shouto rushes to the edge. First, he checks to make sure Father’s car was still missing before moving on to find the best place to jump. He doesn’t know enough about physics to know if the height alone would be enough to get the job done. Which is why he finds the bird bath. If nothing else, impaling himself on it would probably do the trick.

He’s just about to jump, the note tucked safely in the breast pocket of his flannel, when someone calls out. “What’s happening here?”

Whirling around, Shouto sees a boy with purple tinged hair eying him curiously. Which doesn’t make sense for a number of reasons. The first one coming to mind being that the boy is only wearing a black tank top, ripped jeans, and orange and black combat boots even though it’s going to be winter soon and Shouto is chilly in his flannel and sweatpants. The second being, “Who the hell are you?”

The other boy smiles then, walking forward carefully, clearly conscious of how close Shouto still is to the edge. “I’m who you apparently want to be. I think I can help you, though. How ‘bout you let me kill your dad and you stick around a little longer?” the boy bargains and Shouto wonders how he even knows that Father is the problem.

Shouto stands his ground, watching the other boy with his eyes only, not willing to move his body at all for fear of giving the other boy and opening to pull him further onto the roof. “No thank you. I’m fine with my current arrangement,” Shouto comments, edging backwards ever so slightly.

Purple hair shrugs, though Shouto can see in his eyes that the indifference is feigned. “Alright, kill yourself. That won’t stop him, though. You realize that? He made you for a reason, what’s stopping him from doing to some other woman and child exactly what he did to you and your mom?” the boy asks and Shouto hates that logic.

If ever a time to be selfish, though, now would be it. “I guess that’s something I’ll just have to live with. Oh wait. I won’t, will I?”

Purple hair gets darker, and Shouto finally realizes that he must be another ghost with the way his hair changes color like a mood ring. “Don’t you want your dad to suffer? I can bring him so much pain. Make him pay for what he’s done. All you need to do is say my name three times.”

Shouto shrugs and turns around, leaning forward dangerously. “I don’t even know your name,” he points out and a small smile crosses his lips at the idea of finally just being done with it.

All at once, Shouto hears the ghost shout, “NO!” and then arms burning like hot coals wrap around his waste, tugging him back.

Thrashing around Shouto starts yelling, “Let go of me you ghost jack-ass!”

Then he hears the one thing he didn’t think to expect, “Please don’t kill yourself. I don’t want to do this whole being dead thing without you,” is murmured against his neck in Izuku’s voice. Twisting his head around to look over his shoulder, Shouto’s nose buries in familiar green curls and he’s met with the scent of wet, caught between stale water and a rushing river right after rain. His entire body burns where he’s pressed against the heat of ghost who’s probably never been so earnest before.

Inko’s voice cuts in just ask Shouto shuts his eyes and relaxes against the warmth that would probably be painful if the source were anyone or anything else. “Katsuki! We agreed no murder!” Shouto’s suddenly glad that Inko’s never had a reason to seriously scold him before, dreading the idea of having the tone turned on him when she finds out that ‘Katsuki’ wasn’t the one attempting to kill him.

Izuku’s grip lightens and he pushes Shouto up until he’s sitting. Turning, Shouto makes eye contact with Izuku for half a second before he sees his truth reflected in the ghost’s eyes and he has to stand and walk away, toward the window this time.

The new ghost ignores the scolding he just received, though, looking only at Shouto. “Now you know my name. How ‘bout it?” he offers yet again.

Shaking his head, Shouto refuses to look at anyone else on the roof. “These two clearly know you. If they thought that asking you for help would be a good idea, I would have done it by now. I trust Izuku’s judgment far more than I do yours,” Shouto mutters, just wanting to go back inside at this point and hopefully get away with pretending this didn’t happen.

“Who cares what a worthless Deku has to say? I can help you and that’s all that you need,” Katsuki argues. He doesn’t even see the stormy look blow into Shouto’s eyes before he’s being kicked off the roof, falling to what would be his death if he weren’t already deceased.

“Shouto!” Inko scolds, rushing over to see if Katsuki’s ok, even though the boy has already vanished. “That’s dangerous! Someone could’ve been hurt!”

Shouto shrugs and looks at Izuku, who’s trying to hide his giggles behind his hand. “He was already dead. I don’t see the problem,” he points out before slipping through the window and down the stairs to his own room.

Izuku stops long enough to tell his mom not to follow before he’s trailing after Shouto. The door’s barely shut before Izuku’s asking, “Were you really trying to kill yourself?”

Flopping face first onto his bed, Shouto simply fishes his note out of his pocket and holds it out to Izuku. There’s a moment of silence before the paper is slid from his fingers and then even more silence as Izuku reads what Shouto wrote.

The silence drags on for too long, making Shouto uncomfortable. Eventually, he just has to flip over and face Izuku, who he’s sure must be crying. Shock settles in when Shouto’s met with silent fury rather than the tears he was expecting. “I’m sorry, Izuku,” he apologizes, his voice quiet but no less sincere.

With a shake of his head, Izuku makes the note vanish is a quick burst of flame before he drops onto Shouto’s bed and holds him tight. “Don’t apologize, but never do this again. That was really scary and I don’t want you to die. I promise I won’t let your dad take you if you just promise to talk to me in the future instead of jumping to… jumping,” Izuku says, his voice steel even as it comforts Shouto’s shaken nerves.

“I can do that,” Shouto offers and he’s never felt so relieved as when Izuku’s temperature drops to something more reasonable and he relaxes to a more comfortable embrace. “Can I sleep for a while, it’s been a draining day.”

Izuku nods but doesn’t let go, letting Shouto fall asleep in his arms just like Shouto was hoping for.

---------------------

It’s now or never, Shouto needs to find a way to stay in this house, with out without his father, and if he doesn’t have it sorted out by the end of the day, Father’s going to make him move. They have a plan, Shouto thinks. Izuku has been working on possession, but he’s not willing to practice on Shouto so he’s not really sure what kind of progress the ghost has been making.

He trusts Izuku, though, so he’s sure it’ll work out.

When it comes time for dinner, Shouto is excited to go downstairs for the first time. Father notices this, commenting, “I see you’ve come around to the idea of moving.”

“Yes, Father,” Shouto responds quietly, looking at his plate and decidedly not at Izuku hovering in the corner.

“It’s truly too bad you couldn’t attend the school here, even for a day. There will be an even better school at the new house. Maybe I an even pay Aizawa to transfer so he can still teach you,” Father continues, ignoring Shouto continuing to get more tense the longer he’s able to form his own sentences. Of course, Father wouldn’t know that’s going to stop soon.

Over time, Shouto begins to tune Father out as he goes on and on about where they’re supposed to be moving to. He simply hums in all the correct places while he eats, thanks to years of practice listening for the intonations in Father’s voice requesting a response. All the while, Shouto only occasionally glances at Izuku, where the boy F

Finally, about halfway through the dinner, Izuku pulls it off. Father cuts off in the middle of a sentence, his body seizing up and just freezing, as if he’s suddenly unsure of how to control it. Eyes immediately flying to Izuku, Shouto sees him pumping a fist in the air with a massive smile splitting his face.

Looking back to Father, Shouto speaks quickly but clearly, refusing to lose this chance. “I’m going to be very clear with you, Father. You are going to leave, but I’m not going with you. There are people here I refuse to lose and they refuse to tolerate your abuse any more.”

Shouto watches Izuku’s face tighten as he focuses on loosening the reigns just enough for Father to answer on his own. When he’s able, Father growls, “You don’t make the rules, boy.”

Instinct makes Shouto flinch in his seat, that tone typically meaning pain is coming for him. All that happens this time, though, is Father is jerked back in his seat so hard his chair rocks and his mouth snaps shut.

“Change of plans, then,” Shouto mutters, pulling out his phone and opening the camera. He nods to Izuku as soon as he has a recording started.

Izuku and Enji start speaking simultaneously, though Shouto knows only one voice will be heard in the recording. “My name is Todoroki Enji. I am coming forward to admit to some crimes that I know most of you will never forgive me for. For as long as I have been married, I have abused my family. My wife did not choose to marry me, nor did she choose to be committed to a mental institution after I drove her to hurting our youngest child. Said child, Shouto, did not choose to move away from his family with me. I tore him away because they were in the way of my abusing him into being the child I wanted to create. I am a coward of a man, but I would like to change that. I’m starting the process now by admitting my crimes to you, the public, and letting my family go to live their lives as they please without me in it.”

As soon as Izuku stops speaking, Shouto stops the recording and levels Father with a look. “I am holding all the aces here. This is your last chance to leave me in peace, or I will release this video to the public. It would go viral in minutes and you know it,” Shouto reasons.

Father lunges forward then, his hands on Shouto’s throat before Shouto can even realize what’s happening. “You hold all the aces? Yeah, that’s how this looks,” Father mocks, his grip tightening to the point that Shouto can’t breath.

The next second, Father is ripped away and pinned to the opposite wall. He slams against it so hard that plaster cracks and Shouto’s sure he has a concussion.

Izuku’s on him then, hands fluttering around and tears in his voice, “I’m so sorry, Shouto! I meant to just release his voice again, but I accidentally dropped to much. I’m so sorry!” Father must fight against him because Izuku’s hand flips back and Shouto hears the wall creak under Father’s weight.

Shouto shakes his head, hope leaving him quickly, and he waves Izuku off. “It’s not going to work. Nothing we do will be enough,” he admits, hanging his head. “I can’t keep living like this, though. Forgive me, Izuku.”

It takes Izuku a moment to figure out what Shouto means, and by then he’s already started. Ignoring Izuku’s pleas that they can figure it out, Shouto chants, “Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.”

There’s another puff of smoke and then, there Katsuki is, his hair bright violet in his excitement. “Hey, old man,” he greets, grabbing Father with a single hand and holding him back from rushing Shouto again, Izuku apparently having released him. “Time for you to go.”

“Don’t kill him,” Shouto requests, not really caring what else happens so long as he doesn’t have his father’s death on his conscience.

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki shoves Father away from himself and looks over his shoulder at Shouto. Father tries to move past him, but Katsuki freezes him in an instant, turning him around to run full force into a cabinet. “I can at least rough him up a little, right?” he requests, as if he hadn’t already started that process.

Shouto shrugs, beyond caring too much. “No worse than he’s done to me,” he limits, though it’s honestly not much of a limit.

It’s with a grin that Katsuki turns back to his prey. It becomes apparent very quickly, though, that Katsuki either can’t or won’t outright harm Father, he only turns his own force against him whenever the man tries to get to Shouto instead of just giving up. Which Shouto is honestly fine with. He doesn’t necessarily want Father harmed, he just wants him to leave him alone. Whatever it takes.

Luckily, it doesn’t take too many redirects for Father to lose his temper and leave. He storms out of the house with Katsuki hot on his tail, throwing taunts as they go, just for Katsuki to stop short at the door the second Father is through it.

“Thanks, kid. That was fun,” Katsuki turns with a grin, his hair magenta with glee. “There’s no way he’s coming back here after that.”

Shouto shrugs, turning to go back to his room. “I wouldn’t count on that. He’s a stubborn man. Thank you for getting rid of him, though. Do whatever you want down here, I’m going upstairs.”

Izuku follows him silently, holding his tongue until they reach Shouto’s room. The second the door shuts, though, the dam breaks. “Is that what you wanted? Your father beaten in front of you? You never mentioned wanting revenge before. Though I guess Mom and I wouldn’t have understood it, so it makes sense to keep it to yourself,” Izuku rambles, and Shouto can’t even tell if his tone is accusing or not.

Rounding on him, Shouto feels frustration bubble in his throat. Finally free after years of abuse followed by an absolute numbness as he watched Father try to hurt him again and again without being able to reach him. “That not what I wanted!” he bites out, wincing when Izuku flinches away from his harsh tone. “I’m sorry,” he utters, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath to let out some frustration. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I truly wanted our attempts at a peaceful separation to work. But you saw him, that wasn’t working. And there’s nothing on this planet I want more than to be free from him. So I’m not sorry that I did whatever it took to get him out. I’m only sorry that you seem to be scared of me now. I guess I’m no better than him after all.”

“That’s not even close to true!” Izuku argues, hesitating for the barest of moments with his hands hovering nears Shouto’s shoulders for the living boy to lean into his touch. Shouto shuts his eyes and relishes in the warmth there, letting the words sink in at the same rate as the temperature indicating that Izuku believes them to be true. “You’re nothing like him and I’m not scared of you. I just wish it didn’t come to that. Plus, I’m concerned about what Katsuki plans to do from here. Something tells me he won’t be satisfied just living here with us.”

A glance at the door doesn’t provide any answers, not that Shouto truly believed it would. Thinking back to the encounter with Father, Shouto wonders aloud, “He seems to be bound by some kind of rules. Partially whatever I command, I think. I don’t know where the other part comes from, but there seemed to be something holding him back from harming Father unless Father initiated it. So I don’t think he’s as dangerous as he led you to believe.”

Izuku ponders his words for a minute before nodding. “I think you’re right,” he agrees. “I was more focused on making sure you were okay, so I didn’t watch them that closely, but that makes sense with what I did see…” He starts mumbling to himself then. Shouto would love to hear his thoughts, but he’s too quiet and talking too quickly for Shouto to understand so he chooses to just go relax until Izuku comes to a conclusion he wants to share.

That never happens, though, and Shouto drifts off to the sound of Izuku muttering to himself.

----------------------

The next two days pass far quieter and more peacefully than anyone could have anticipated. Katsuki entertains himself with scaring anyone who comes to the house, but he never actually hurts anyone so Shouto isn’t too concerned with it. For the most part, as long as the residents of the house leave him alone, Katsuki is content to just do his own thing. On the rare occasion that they do cross paths, Katsuki is his annoying self toward Izuku but he gets along well with Shouto. He listens to whatever the breathing boy tells him to do and even tries to joke around with him or, if Shouto happens to be downstairs when someone comes to the door, Katsuki even tries to get him in on the pranks.

On the third day, Shouto decides that Katsuki is just another kid in a situation he didn’t ask for and is mostly harmless. Once he reaches that conclusion, his family passes through his mind and he wonders if they’d want to join him here.

So, on day three of living with an actual demon, Shouto starts preparing to save his family from his Father for good.

“I’m going to be gone for a couple days but I’ll make Katsuki promise to be nice to you,” Shouto says, already packing a bag and barely looking up when Izuku comes into the room. “And I don’t know how quickly he’ll come back for me, but I’m sure Katsuki will keep Father out as well, so you shouldn’t have to be worried about that.”

“Where are you going?” Izuku asks, unsure about being left with Katsuki. But Shouto seems excited about whatever he’s doing, so Izuku can deal. Surely it won’t be that bad. Katsuki will probably keep himself busy terrorizing the neighborhood and Izuku’s sure he can keep it to a minimum.

When Shouto looks up and Izuku sees his smile, he’s sure that he’d do whatever it takes to keep it there. “I’m going to get Mother and my siblings. They’ll love it here and Katsuki will protect us from Father. Mother has always wanted to live in a small town and I just know she’d love you and Inko.”

Izuku nods along, happy to see Shouto so happy but then he realizes, “Are you sure Katsuki will allow them in here? What if he just chases them away like he did your father?”

Zipping up his back and hoisting it onto his shoulder, Shouto’s easy response is, “And lose a new audience to tell him how great he is? I doubt it. But even if he does, I’m the one who made him visible. I can undo it just as easily.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Izuku jumps at the new addition, flying away from the door and turning to see Katsuki sauntering in.

“It’s almost cute that you think you’re in charge,” Katsuki smirks, strolling forward and getting right in Shouto’s personal space. “You act like I’m your new ghostly pet or something but it’s the other way around, kid. I make the calls and you can’t do any more than jump when I say jump.” Right on cue, Katsuki possesses Shouto and makes him jump. The look on Shouto’s face is a mix of fury and sad betrayal and leaves Izuku wondering if he should feel bad for him or be scared of him. “Now why don’t you just relax and wait for your next command?”

Shouto’s muscles strain as he fights against Katsuki making him sit on his bed, and he jumps up the second the possession is lifted. Unfortunately, by then Katsuki is out of the room. “I thought I summoned him to chase Father away, not replace him as my tormentor,” Shouto grumbles, clenching his fists like he wants to chase Katsuki and fight him.

“There must be some way we can get rid of him,” Izuku says, though he doesn’t have the slightest clue where to start looking for that. “He must have some kind of weakness.”

Izuku’s heart falls when Shouto barely glances at him, shaking his head. “There’s no way. I thought he’d be different but he’s just like Father. He has no weakness and all he cares about is himself. I’m sorry I trapped you with him,” Shouto apologizes, shaking his head mournfully before dropping face first onto his bed.

Excusing himself quietly, Izuku starts to leave the room, not wanting to invade Shouto’s face when he’s sad. He just knows that soon enough he’ll be pacing and muttering to himself in an attempt to find some way to thwart Katsuki, and Izuku’s sure Shouto doesn’t want to listen to that.

Crossing the room, though, Izuku kicks something on the floor. Which is weird, Shouto is the least messy person he knows, there’s no way he’d just leave a book on his floor. Picking it up, Izuku inquisitively reads the title aloud. “Handbook for the Recently Deceased? Where did this come from? I don’t know that I’d count Mom and I as ‘recent’ anymore.”

Perking up, Shouto swings around to look at Izuku like he just found gold. “That must have an answer!” Shouto rushes over and Izuku hands the book over easily. As much as Izuku’s going to help, Shouto will feel better if Izuku lets him be in control. However, Shouto’s brow just furrows and his almost hopeful expression turns to annoyance as the book doesn’t open. “Is this even a real book?”

“It looks like a real book,” Izuku replies, confused and Shouto’s troubles. The other boy hands it over then, and the ghost has no problem cracking the cover. “Maybe it’s because you’re not deceased.”

Glancing at the title of chapter one, The Netherworld, Izuku decides maybe he doesn’t want to read the book right now. After all, he’d rather just stay hanging out with Shouto than go somewhere with a name like that. So, he hands the book over and watches to make sure Shouto can turn a page before handing over the reigns officially. “I’ll read it when we’re done with the Katsuki problem. Until then, it’s all yours,” Izuku offers and Shouto just looks between him and the book.

“Are you sure? This probably has some helpful information for you. Have you and Inko even gone to the Netherworld before?” Shouto asks, reading out what must be the first line in the book when Izuku shakes his head, “All ghosts must proceed directly to the Netherworld.”

Izuku shrugs and waves him off, “It’s fine. This is more important. Mom and I can do that once we’ve fixed all this.” Izuku doesn’t mention that he just doesn’t want to leave his best friend. Shouto seems to accept that answer for now and he moves over to his desk to hunker down with the book. Izuku’s not really sure what he should be doing, though. He doesn’t really want to go to the attic and tell his mom that he found information that could help them but he’s keeping it to himself for selfish reasons. So he just flops on the bed and plays with the little plush rabbit Shouto’s been keeping by his pillow ever since he and Izuku found out that it was still hiding behind the bookcase in the living room.

A few hours later, when the sun starts fading in the window, Izuku asks, “Have you found the chapter on exorcism or anything like that?”

Shouto’s silent for a few seconds before he hums. “I think so. I’m just trying to figure out if it’ll work with a demon.”

Popping up onto his elbows, Izuku’s about to stand up when Shouto brings the book to him. Izuku skims it quickly before shrugging, “I don’t see how it wouldn’t work.”

They meet eyes briefly and Izuku doesn’t need him to speak to know that it’s go time.

---------------------

The two have a brief meeting before they go downstairs, Shouto deciding that maybe Izuku and Inko should be out of the room just in case. Izuku doesn’t love the idea, but he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make Shouto happy. After all, he’s the one who couldn’t scare Enji away before Shouto felt like he needed to turn to Katsuki.

It feels lonely, though, when Shouto walks down the down the stairs by himself. He has to shake away the feeling of going downstairs to “train” with Father. Unlike Father, though, Katsuki barely looks up at Shouto’s descent.

Not wasting any time with negotiation attempts, Shouto jumps straight into reading the exorcism. “Hands vermillion, start of five.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work the way you want it to,” Katsuki cuts in, not even looking at Shouto.

Ignoring him, Shouto continues, “Bright cotillion, raven’s dive.”

Katsuki actually reacts then, standing up and taking a couple steps toward the stairs. “Seriously, stop it you idiotic breather.”

“Nightshade’s promise, spirits strive. To let the living let now the dead come alive.”

Finally, a reaction Shouto expects come, but from the wrong place. That screaming definitely isn’t coming from Katsuki.

Looking up, Shouto follows the sound toward the kitchen. “Inko?” he asks, voice breaking as he stumbles down the stairs. Inko floats in the doorway, her head thrown back and a green glow surrounding her. She hasn’t screamed a second time, but her limbs are stiff and her face, what little Shouto can see of it from his current angle, is twisted in pain. “What happened?”

When Shouto reaches Inko, he hestitates to try to hold her, unsure if it will cause her more pain. Instead, he rounds on Katsuki. “What happened!? This was supposed to be you!”

Katsuki smirks and comes forward, flicking the book out of Shouto’s hands. “You shouldn’t mess with things you don’t understand, kid. I even tried to warn you,” Katsuki says smugly.

Looking back at Inko, Shouto grows desperate. He hears a gasp from the stairs and in an instant, he’s being replaced at Inko’s side by Izuku. “Please,” Shouto pleads, not even caring about his pride or the fact that it’s been years since he’s let himself beg, “save her. I know you can do something. I’ll do whatever you say, just please fix this.”

Another scream cuts through the air and Shouto flinches. He can’t look at his best friend, he knows only hatred will be looking back at him. So he just stares at Katsuki, the other boy rubbing his chin as if he’s thinking about the offer even though Shouto knows the demon already has his mind made up.

After what feels like an eternity, Katsuki grins and nods. “Alright, I’ll help her. But there will be a cost,” he offers, a dark look on his face that would make Shouto backtrack if this were literally any other situation.

“Anything,” Shouto breathes at the same time Izuku lunges forward, crying, “No!”

It’s too late, though, Katsuki sweeps Shouto into his arms and whisks him out of Izuku’s reach with a smirk. “Marry me,” Katsuki commands and Shouto’s not sure what he thought the price would be, but it certainly wasn’t that. All things considered, it could be worse.

Izuku clearly thinks otherwise though, pounding on an invisible wall that Katsuki must have thrown up to prevent any interruption. “Katsuki, that’s too far! You’re making him marry you just to spite me? I’ll leave. Save my mom and we’ll go to the Netherworld. You never have to see us again. Just don’t do that to Shouto!” Izuku yells, fury in his tone even as his words sound like pleas.

Katsuki laughs then, dropping Shouto onto the couch before perching on the back of it himself. “This isn’t even about you, Deku. It’s more of a greencard thing. I want to be alive again and marrying a breather is the only way I can do that. You losers can have this house for all I care just as soon as I’m allowed to leave it.”

Shouto holds up a hand toward Izuku when the ghost looks like he wants to argue further. “You heard him, Izuku. What’s the problem if it’s just a greencard thing. Let him save her. Please.” All of the fight leaves Izuku when Shouto tacks on the last word.

Looking around with satisfaction, Katsuki asks, “So we’re all in agreement, then?” When he gets no further resistance, he waves a hand toward Inko, the woman falling to her knees and gasping in breathes that they all know she doesn’t need. Izuku rushes to her side, checking that she’s actually ok, and Shouto’s busy watching them so he doesn’t even see Katsuki’s next move.

All attention is drawn back to the blonde when he knocks three times on a wall. “Alright. I know Shouto won’t follow through with his end of the bargain if that useless Deku is here to talk him out of it, so I think it’s about time you two head to the Netherworld.” Slowly, a door appears behind him and creaks open, bright green light flooding out of it. Shouto watches Izuku and Inko get dragged toward it, gears turning and anger bubbling under his skin.

“You said they could stay,” Shouto argues, his voice quiet under the sounds of wind unfelt by the living dragging the two ghost to the other dimension.

Katsuki hears him, though, and he shrugs with a smirk. “I lie. Get used to it,” he says by way of explanation.

Invisible bonds hold Shouto to the couch so he can’t even try to get up and save the ghosts from the fate he made for them.

An idea hits him when they’re almost at the door.

“Can I at least say goodbye? Don’t I deserve at least that much?” Shouto questions, locking eyes with Katsuki. Izuku and Inko’s progress halts for a second while Katsuki thinks, and then Shouto’s bonds are gone.

“Fine, but make it snappy,” Katsuki relents, walking away from the door, surely not wanting to hear whatever sappy things Shouto’s going to say.

The ghosts wrap Shouto in a tight hug as soon as he gets close enough. “I promise, I’ll fix this,” he murmurs in their hair as he hugs them back. Adrenaline buzzes in his ears so he doesn’t even hear what they have to say, but the hug is over too soon, the ghosts being dragged away from him again.

Izuku goes first and Shouto doesn’t know if it’s fear or Katsuki keeping him still, but there’s a split second where he can’t move.

But then he is. He doesn’t think he’s ever moved faster in his life than when he surges forward, shoving Inko back into the living room and throwing himself through the door in her place.

The door slams shut behind him and Shouto is left in absolute darkness.

-------------------

It’s cold in the Netherworld. The chill bites down into Shouto’s bones and he hates that his first thought is wondering if Izuku feels it. He shouldn’t be concerned with whether or not Izuku could use a sweater, the gaping emptiness before him is bound to be more uncomfortable for Izuku than any temperature change could be.

Shouto shakes the thought off, or maybe that’s a shiver, and starts walking. He has no clue where he’s going, there’s only darkness surrounding him, but it’s not like there’s still a doorway for him to turn around and go back. Not that he would if that were an option. He came to save Izuku and he’ll be damned if he’s not successful.

He will admit, he wasn’t expecting to somehow be deposited in an entire other part of the Netherworld, but that’s not the point either. He doesn’t let himself think that maybe he’ll never see Izuku again. Instead, he skips that part of the journey entirely and starts wondering about what to do when he does find Izuku and they go home. He ponders over what to do with Katsuki the entire time he walks, never quite settling on a stellar plan.

Eventually, when his fingers are just starting to go numb despite being jammed into his armpits due to a lack of pockets, he sees light. He wonders briefly if this is the light they talk about seeing when you die, but then he hears a voice that makes all thought lose his head. He’s too far still to hear words, but that’s definitely Izuku’s voice talking to someone, or possibly arguing, and Shouto is sprinting toward it as fast as he can.

The light seemed so far away at first, but now it’s so sudden. Almost as if it was rushing toward him even as Shouto ran toward it. The idea makes no sense, but then again, neither does anything else in the Netherworld.

When Shouto comes crashing in, he nearly trips over his own feet trying to stop so suddenly. But he doesn’t even care, he’s just so relieved to see Izuku.

“Shouto!” Izuku gasps, and it’s as if everything else just disappears in that moment for the ghost. “How did you even get here? And do you know where Mom is?”

Izuku rushes to Shouto’s side and wraps him in a hug immediately. “I followed you in,” Shouto breathes out, then pausing to catch his breath. Izuku holds Shouto at arm’s length away then and Shouto sees the million questions on his lips so he simply holds up a finger, needing a second to catch up before he can handle that. He must be smiling, though, because Izuku slowly starts grinning back at him. “I couldn’t just let Katsuki send you away like that so I stole your mom’s place. She’s still at your house,” he finally explains when he gets his breath back.

He can’t help himself then, Izuku starts laughing and he has to pull Shouto in for another hug before it turns to crying. Shouto is so hot everywhere they make contact, and that just makes Izuku cry even harder. “Why would you do something like that? We would have come back for you,” Izuku questions even though he’s so happy that Shouto came for him. Thrilled that the boy cares enough to save them both.

Shouto shrugs, and the minute drop in temperature tells Izuku that he does know exactly why he did it, but Izuku will save pressing it for later.

“This is touching and all,” a woman cuts in and when Shouto glances over, he sees a girl with long black hair, green skin, and a sash reading ‘Miss Argentina’ watching them in confusion, “but what, exactly, is happening right now?” Shouto doesn’t even have a chance to answer, too distracted by the fact that somehow, he’s now in an office of some sort. Or a reception area at the very least, judging by the chairs opposite the counter that the woman’s standing in front of. Only one chair is occupied, a boy in glasses ignoring all the ruckus to read a book tucked away in the corner.

Izuku pulls away and blushes before bowing toward the woman. “I’m sorry, Miss Argentina, this is Shouto. He moved into the house Mom and I were haunting and I guess he’s the reason Mom’s not here. I apologize for trying to argue with you that she was earlier.”

The woman seems to stop listening to Izuku halfway through, her brows raising as she takes in Shouto. “This is a breather, you said?” she questions, coming closer to inspect him better. When Izuku nods, she almost seems to jerk away. “You need to get out of here right now. If Mitsuki sees you, you won’t be breathing for much longer. And you’re far to cute to die so young.”

“There’s a breather here?” another voice asks and Shouto looks over at the boy, now noticing glass and metal protruding from his body like he was just in a car accident, jump up and run over to see the two. “That’s trouble. Listen to her. You’re in serious danger here. Why would you come in the first place? Did either of you even read the Handbook for the Recently Deceased?” The boy holds up his now closed book and Shouto almost wonders how he was supposed to read a book he’s never even seen before.

Izuku nods quickly and steps in before Shouto can challenge the boy and ask that. “We’ll gladly be on our way back home now. There’s no need for trouble.” He fumbles then to pull a piece of chalk from his pocket and Shouto will need to ask him later where he even got that.

“Thank you for keeping him safe until I got here,” Shouto says to the woman while Izuku hastily starts drawing on a wall.

Before Miss Argentina can even respond, let alone Izuku being able to finish drawing the doorway, a woman yells, “Has anyone seen my useless son? What is he up to now?”

Shouto has no idea what’s happening, but the two Netherworldly beings freeze. Then they look at each other in fear. Then they’re hastily trying to hide Shouto from whatever woman just yelled and is clearly on her way to the room they’re in now. Shouto doesn’t know where she’s coming from, but he guesses he should stop trying to make sense of this place.

When he’s roughly grabbed and shoved toward Izuku, Shouto finally looks toward where he was standing and he sees a door right behind where he just was swing open. Striding through is a woman with spiky yellow hair, red eyes, and a gash that’s hard to ignore going across her neck. Shouto can’t help but think of Katsuki when he looks at her and he wonders if Katsuki is the ‘useless son’ she just yelled about.

He can’t get any answers, though, as suddenly he’s being yanked through the door and then he and Izuku are standing in the attic of their home. They share one look before they’re hugging again, and Shouto revels in the feel of the cold boy in his arms, even as the rest of him is tingling from warming up too quickly.

“I’m happy we’re home,” Izuku utters after a moment’s peace, “but what are we going to do about Katsuki? He won’t let you live if you don’t marry him, but I won’t let him kill you, either.”

Shouto pulls away just enough for Izuku to see him smirk and he says, “I have a plan.”

--------------------

“Oh, Katsuki!” Shouto calls, making his voice soft and inviting. He first focuses on making sure Katsuki is looking at him, then he looks at the demented carnival game he has Inko trapped in. She seems suspending in some sort of dunk tank, but Shouto is sure that whatever she’d fall into when Katsuki gets bored of playing and hits the mark will hurt a lot more than water.

Descending the stairs, Shouto walks straight up to Katsuki and throws an arm around his shoulder, leaning against the slightly shorter boy. “What do you want, Half ‘n Half?” Katsuki scowls, shoving Shouto off of him immediately. Shouto makes sure to hold his attention, though, refusing to look over Katsuki’s shoulder to where Izuku helps his mom escape the dunk tank.

Shouto frowns, feigning a pout and holds his hand up, palms out, to try and placate Katsuki. “I got a chance to think when I was in the Netherworld. And during that time, I realized that you are actually pretty attractive. So I would like to marry you.”

Katsuki scoffs and stomps toward Shouto, stopping inches away from his face. “Stop the bullshit,” he growls, giving Shouto a hard shove in the shoulders and making him stumble back, falling on his butt.

Rolling his eyes, Shouto stands back up and dusts himself off. This clearly angers Katsuki, but that will just make it easier. “Fine. I realized that Izuku actually is useless. But marrying you could give me the power I need. It’s a win/win.”

“And why should I believe you?” Katsuki sneers, but he doesn’t make a move against Shouto, so they must be getting somewhere.

Shouto shrugs and takes a step toward Katsuki again, testing him. When there’s no reaction, he says, “My dad will be back again. I need a way to keep him out. You know I don’t need any motive other than that and you’re the only one who can help me do that.”

Katsuki seems like he’s almost swayed but then Shouto throws in, “Plus, wouldn’t you just love to prove that you’re better than Deku? He could never convince a living person to marry him, yet you’ve got me here practically begging for it.”

That’s all it takes. Katsuki nods and snaps his fingers and just like that, they’re in bright red tuxedos that could not be more uncomfortable and a small gargoyle looking creature is emerging from the woodwork. Katsuki doesn’t even give the creature time to speak, simply snapping out, “I do,” and looking expectantly for Shouto to do the same. Shouto says it back and, with another poof, the creature is gone again, along with all the contraptions Katsuki created when he was waiting for Shouto and Izuku to return.

“Did it work?” Shouto asks, looking expectantly at Katsuki. He looks more alive, his face actually pink instead of blue tinged white, but that could mean nothing.

But then Katsuki laughs and it’s not the sarcastic sound Shouto is used to from him. No. This sound actually joyful. “Oh yeah, here we go!” Katsuki cheers and he’s so excited, Shouto almost wants to call off the rest of his plan. Would it really hurt anything to just let Katsuki be alive? “I forgot how it felt to… feel,” Katsuki says then, the grin still on his face.

Izuku steps forward then, a smile on his own face, and Shouto can tell just by looking at him that he’s having the same doubts as Shouto. “I’m glad it worked, Katsuki,” he congratulates but the second Katsuki looks at him, the smile drops and he practically snarls at Izuku.

“No one asked you, Deku. Why don’t you just go to the Netherworld?” Katsuki snaps and, oh yeah, that’s why Shouto doesn’t want to keep him around. “I know how to send you there, you know. The fact that I’m alive now changes nothing.”

All it takes is Katsuki prowling a single step toward Izuku. In and instant, Shouto is reaching for the fireplace poker and surging forward all in one motion. Katsuki either doesn’t hear him coming or doesn’t have time to respond, but either way, the poker is soon sticking out of his back as he falls forward.

Shouto barely hears Inko’s gasp, clearly not completely up to speed with the plan, and he pulls the poker out of Katsuki’s back even as his attention is already turning toward Izuku. “You almost wanted to just go with it too, didn’t you?” Izuku asks, his eyes still on the blond boy on the floor.

Shrugging, Shouto tosses the poker to the side and takes a few steps away. He knows this is his own plan, but now that he’s done and he sees that Izuku clearly feels some sort of remorse, he can’t help but feel guilty. “How am I different from my father?” he asks, his voice low and he’s not sure if he even means for other people to hear him.

“Shouto!” Izuku gasps, rushing forward and stopping just short of putting his hands on Shouto’s shoulders. Shouto doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s ok to touch him, but he also doesn’t move away. Izuku closes the gap then, still giving Shouto a chance to pull away, and when he moves forward into the touch he just reenforces Izuku’s suspicion that Shouto doesn’t know how to ask for physical affection, but he will be clear when doesn’t want it. “Your father hurt people for no reason. Katsuki is a literal demon. If you didn’t do what you did, it would only be a matter of time until he did much worse to a lot of innocent people. I’m so-”

Supportive words are cut off by a bang and fog pouring into the room. Izuku and Shouto both jump at the sound, immediately looking to Katsuki, who’s still laying on the floor. Though, they don’t really know if his body will stay there or not. No one really warned them what would happen after they killed a demon that they brought back to life. Will they have to dispose of a dead body somehow?

“Excuse me,” Inko starts, dragging the boys’ attention back to the origin of the fog, where blond woman from the Netherworld is walking through. “Who are you and why are you in my home?”

Red eyes narrow and the woman completely ignores Inko, instead sweeping the room until they settle on Shouto. “You,” she snarls, finger pointing as she stomps over to him, “You’re the breather who came to the Netherworld. That’s not how things work, kid. If you want in the Netherworld, you’ve gotta be dead.”

The woman doesn’t even notice Inko stepping forward then, and she crashes directly into her when Inko plants herself between the woman and Shouto. She turns her glare on Inko and she’s opened her mouth to turn her rage on her as well when Inko cuts in. “I still don’t know who you are but you can leave now. There is no way you are going to be harming a single hair on either of those boys heads.”

At Inko’s harsh tone, the woman blinks in confusion before smirking. Shouto doesn’t understand how she’s still so confident, he’s terrified of Inko in this moment and her rage isn’t even directed at him. He’s also happy that he can’t see her face, but her hair is writhing around her head like a mass of snakes and she’s a feint green color is emanating from her body.

“I see you learned how to haunt. How cute,” the Netherworlder taunts before reaching out to push Inko to the side. That is, she tries to before she gets distracted by the body on their floor. “You killed my son? He got some sucker to bring him back to life just to get himself killed again?”

Finally, a groan sounds from Katsuki’s direction and Shouto spares a glance to see that he’s pushing himself up, as if summoned by his mother noticing him. “You stabbed me in the back?” he asks, exasperation dripping from his tone. He turns to look at his killer only to get distracted by the newest addition to the group. “What are you doing here, you old hag?”

“Katsuki, you brat! Get yourself to the Netherworld right now!” his mother snaps, Shouto apparently forgotten in her rage at her own son.

Katsuki just scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “These guys are pretty entertaining, even if they did kill me. I think I’m gonna hang out here,” he challenges and Shouto can’t not notice the way he flinches back when his mother easily side steps Inko to stalk toward him. It reminds him a little too much of himself and Father.

There’s no thought process, Shouto’s just moving the next second, trying to get between a boy and his abusive parent like he wishes anyone would have done for him.

Inko beats him there. She’s floating now so she’s the same height as Katsuki’s mother and the glow around her body is a lot brighter now. Not to mention the light shining out of her eyes that would surely blind someone if they looked straight at it. “Get. Out. Of. My. House!” Inko commands and just like that, the woman is shot back like she’s being pushed by a strong gust of wind. She just barely manages to catch herself in the doorway to the Netherworld, but the door slams shut before she can get a single other word out.

Just like that, the glowing is gone, and Inko drops to the floor and rounds on Katsuki. He balks when she puts her hands on each of his cheeks, stopping him from moving away while she inspects him. “You will have to shape up a little and be nicer to my boys. But if you would like to, you can stay here and I will make sure that woman never hurts you again,” she promises, her eyes locked with Katsuki’s. “If you’d rather move on, you’re welcome to do that, too. There’s no pressure, but my offer will always be open. As long as you promise not to kill any more people.”

Katsuki rips his face out of her hands and looks anywhere other than at any of the people in the room. “One of your boys literally just killed me,” he mutters, but he clearly realizes the fault in pointing that out when Inko’s gaze hardens and they all flash back to moments before that when Katsuki threatened Izuku’s existence. “Fine. I promise.”

With a smile and a nod, Inko stands up and looks at Izuku and Shouto. “Quite an exciting day we’ve had, huh? Why don’t we all just get cleaned up and reconvene for dinner?”

----------------

“Hey, Izuku, can I talk to you for a second?” Shouto asks after he cleans up in his room, seeing Izuku going downstairs to meet his mom in the kitchen.

Smiling up at him, Izuku pauses on the landing. “Of course, what’s up?”

Shouto hurries down the stairs to stand with Izuku, suddenly more scared of this conversation than anything else that’s happened since he moved into a haunted house. “I’m going to ask you a question. It might be crazy or dumb or something that’ll make you hate me, but I need to know the answer,” he starts, trying to steel his nerves.

Izuku laughs then, grabbing Shouto’s hands, making Shouto look at him. “Nothing could ever make me hate you. Now, what’s got you so worked up that you’re practically on fire?”

“If getting married brought Katsuki back to life, do you think it could bring you back?” Shouto asks, his nerves showing through in a cracked voice even though his eyes never leave Izuku’s and his hands are steady where they’re connected to the ghost’s.

Izuku jerks back in surprise, his hands nearly losing form for a second, only staying real from the heat emanating from Shouto. The surety in that heat shocks Izuku and he starts shaking his head before he can even think of words to say. Shouto’s eyes stay firm, though, and he patiently waits for Izuku’s explanation before pushing the matter. “You can’t marry me!” Izuku finally cries. He can’t believe this is even happening, especially since Shouto still seems so sure of his choice, his hands squeezing briefly like he’s reminding Izuku that he’s gonna need more than that if he’s going to be dissuaded. “You’re alive, Shouto! And you’re 15 years old. Don’t throw that away on a ghost. I can be here for you just like this, I don’t need life.” The words hurt Izuku to say and if he could cry, surely he would be by now. He has to look away, the intensity in Shouto’s gaze is making it hard for him to stand firm here.

“You said it yourself the other night,” Shouto says, “if we had met when we were alive, you’d have a crush on me. I know I like you, Izuku. And you don’t have to stay with me forever, but can’t you at least take another chance at being alive?”

Izuku’s heart breaks because he knows Shouto’s being serious, he always is. But still, “What happens when you get bored with me?” The words come out in a whisper, but they feel so much louder when Izuku never meant to say them at all.

The warmth leaves Izuku’s hands and he almost wishes he could cry now that he is alone. Utterly alone. But then it appears on his cheeks and he’s being forced to look at Shouto.

“I will never be bored of you, Izuku. But you deserve the chance to get bored of me.” The truth of that statement burns and Izuku wonders if that would be painful if he could still feel things like physical pain. “Besides, you heard what Katsuki said, it’s a green card thing. If you don’t want to be with me romantically, the marriage isn’t even legal for the living world anyway.”

Finally, Izuku hiccups a laugh and he begins to think this might actually be an okay idea. He’s just about to nod, about to give his consent to a lifetime of being tied to Shouto, when he hears a creak behind him and both himself and Shouto jerk their gazes to the creaky floorboard in the living room. Looking up at them is Inko, and much like Izuku, she looks like she would be crying if they should.

Shouto looks back to Izuku and he sees the conflict raging in him. He’s not stupid, he knows that Izuku feels guilty for his mom’s death. He wouldn’t be surprised if Izuku chose to stay dead just for his mother’s sake, even though Shouto knows Inko would never approve of that choice. He resigns himself to the rejection even before Izuku looks back to him with heartbreak in his eyes but a shaky smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, Shouto, but I can’t.” And with that, he’s gone. When Shouto looks back down the stairs, Inko is gone too.

Slowly, Shouto trudges his way to his room. He knows he’s being selfish, but he can’t help being upset. All he wants to do is repay Izuku for all the help he’s given him in the last week of living together. Plus, it wouldn’t be terrible to have an actual friend for the first time in his life when he starts school in a few weeks. Shouto crashes into his bed, not even bothering to change out of his wedding tux, and soon enough he decides he deserves the discomfort of the outfit. After all, it’s got nothing on how he must have made Izuku feel, trying to shove his feelings onto the boy. After all, Izuku already has so much of his own troubles, not to mention how much he’s already taken on for Shouto, he shouldn’t have to take that on too.

That thought process can only go on for so long before Shouto has to drag himself out of bed and toward the stairs. There is a single moment when he reaches them and Shouto almost goes down. In that moment, he wonders if it’d be for the best to just leave the Midoriyas and not burden them anymore, even with something as seemingly simple as a goodbye. But then he thinks about how sad he would be if he never saw Izuku again and he knows he has to at least tell them why he’s leaving. So up he goes.

When Shouto reaches the attic, the Midoriyas aren’t even there. Not that he should have expected them to be. He’d probably hide from himself if he were in their position. Looking around, Shouto wonders if he should just wait for them to come back or if he should write them a note to find when they return. Time works differently for them, so leaving a note is probably the smart thing to do, but he really wants to see them one more time.

Voices drift into the room, ripping Shouto from his thoughts. He can’t tell what they’re saying but he knows them. He follows the sound to the window, which he finds to be slightly open, and there he sees Inko and Izuku on the roof. If he didn’t know them better, Shouto would even say they were arguing.

“-eason to turn him down. I love you, Izuku, and I will always love you. You don’t need to be stuck here with me for that,” Inko says, tears in her voice even though Shouto knows she can’t produce them anymore.

“Why should I get another chance at life, Mom?” Izuku asks, his voice so broken that it brings tears to Shouto’s eyes for the first time since he got his scar. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled and Shouto looks back up from scrubbing away the tears to see that it’s because Izuku’s face is buried in Inko’s shoulder. “I’m the reason we died, Mom. If anyone should live again, it should be you.”

Inko pushes Izuku away and holds him at arm’s length by his shoulders. “Now, Izuku, I never want to hear you say that again,” Inko scolds, her voice almost as firm as it was when she was telling Mitsuki to leave Shouto and Katsuki alone. “You are not the reason we died. Just as much as I didn’t kill my baby by choosing to leave the house that day. I know it’s hard to accept, but this is just what the universe had in store for us and nothing we do can change the universe’s plan. But now it’s offering you another chance and if you turn it down because of me, I could never forgive myself.”

It’s obviously difficult for him, but Izuku slowly nods at her before collapsing into her arms for a hug. “But what if Shouto was just caught up in the moment and doesn’t mean it? I really like him, Mom, what will I do if he was just being nice?”

Shouto has no doubt that Inko knows the right words to fix it for Izuku, but he has to step in before she needs to. Climbing onto the roof, Shouto says, “I wasn’t just being nice, Izuku. I’m sure this is strange or unusual, but I would really like a chance to date you.”

Izuku jumps when he hears Shouto, but Inko just smiles at him and Shouto wonders if she knew he was there all along. “Are… Are you sure?” Izuku asks, wringing his hands and looking back and Inko like he’s asking both of them for permission one final time; asking Inko if he can really be happy and Shouto if it can really be with him.

Shouto smiles and steps forward, reaching for Izuku’s hands with both of his. Izuku knows if he reaches out for them there will be fire waiting for him, but he reaches anyway and relishes in the burn. “I went to hell and back for you, Izuku. I’ve never been more sure.”

Izuku laughs at that even though he knows Shouto’s not joking and finally. Finally he says with a certainty he doesn’t think he’s ever had before, “Ok. I’ll marry you.” Just like that, the fire is gone from his hands. With the intensity leaving so suddenly, Izuku misses the more gentle warmth and bursts into tears, thinking it was all just some massive joke the universe was playing on him.

But then, he feels the wetness on his cheeks and oh yeah, that’s what it feels like to be able to cry, and what’s that roughness on his cheeks. Opening his eyes, Izuku sees Shouto looking at him with concern flooding his eyes and a frown tugging his lips down. “I didn’t know you had so many callouses, too,” he says, reaching up to cup Shouto’s hands where they work at wiping away his tears. Just as suddenly as he came to life, a smile bursts through his tears and he beams up at Shouto.

The frown is wiped from Shouto’s face in an instant, a small smile of his own replacing it, and he leans closer to knock his forehead against Izuku’s. Izuku tries to keep looking at Shouto, but he’s forced to close his eyes when he can’t focus at such a close proximity. “Your voice sounds different now. More solid.”

“I was scared it didn’t work,” Izuku admits quietly, now that he can’t see whatever expression Shouto is making and he’s sure everything is real.

Shouto huffs out a laugh and nods, “Me too.” It takes real effort to pick his head up, and Izuku whines when he does, but he needs to see Izuku for real. Know that he’s really there. Dragging his eyes over him, he thinks he looks more real than before, but he also doesn’t really know how he expects him to look. It’s not like Shouto thought he looked dead before.

But then Izuku opens his eyes and they are so vibrant that Shouto can’t believe he ever thought that dull green from before was how they were supposed to look.

“So,” Shouto asks, and he can feel the dopey smile on his face that matches the one beaming right back at him, “what do you want to do now that you’re alive?”

#my beetlejuice academia #i'm thinking of changing the title to 'my hero beetlejuice'#because that's funnier #i'm so tired dude #this took so much from me

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