#i'm sorry ken i love you (ish) but you fit so well for this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heroesarelife · 6 years

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Pleasure to meet you, Amethyst! I'm sorry for making my first request very angst-y. Aizawa, Hizashi, and All Might (separate btw) have a terrible nightmare that their s/o was brutally killed in front of them. As they jolt awake and try to calm down (it seemed so real oh god oh GOD) they look to their side and find their s/o snuggled up and sleeping peacefully beside them, safe and sound.

Oh, nice to meet you nonnie ;D and no worries at all! I sort of live for angst, but don’t tell on me, aye? xD I legit liked working on this one and I hope you enjoy as well, I love these pro-heroes so much

Warning: Can be a bit gory.

Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)

Aizawa has a complicated relationship with sleeping, to put it kindly. It never came that easily for him, and when it did it could often be restless. And his dreams could be plagued and dreadful, more often than not making him feel that more tired after waking up, no matter how many hours he had slept. So he tires himself to death’s door because then the odds of his dreams reaching him become slimmer. However, it does not always work, and this is one of those nights.

He falls into the nightmare immediately and intensely. He knows something is wrong, something is very much wrong. Worry takes over him, bone-deep. He can hear the maniac laughter and his trained prepared to fight, hand grabbing for his weapon. But there’s nothing there. He’s unarmed.

Mind in a frenzy, heart pounding madly, he tries to think. But he can’t grab hold of a single thought, as if they were immaterial and made of pure noise and chaos. And yet he was sure, deep in his gut, that someone needed saving; he needs to do something. Anything.

All of a sudden he crashes hard against the ground, heavy weights pressing his back, immobilizing him. Air abandons his lungs altogether and pain takes his senses by storm, gagging in his own blood. Aizawa tries to to fight back, desperate, but his body fails him. All his limbs feel as though made of lead, trapping him to the hard cold ground. He’s weak.

He realizes then that he can’t see. Everything is covered in darkness, like a thick fog surrounding him, depriving him of his only proud possession, his only weapon. Screams fill the air, a voice pleading and begging for mercy. For help. His help. He recognizes his s/o voice and panic settles in his soul, ice-cold and unbearable.

Aizawa hears the mocking laugh behind him and the scream is so close, so painfully close. His body is traitor and disobeys him, the weight heavier by the second. And he doesn’t his eyes because he can hear, as if watching from the first row. The sick snapping of bones, the distinctive gushing sound of spilled blood. The fainting anguished screams that pierce his heart, destroying him.

He wakes up then, eyes opening with a startle. His whole body rigid, muscles strained with effort in a silent fight. Nausea overcomes him and he sits up slowly, breathing with effort. Dread covers him like needles; he had lost them. He was weak, and it was his fault. He knows it now to have been a dream, he knows because he can feel the warm touch of their hand in side, anchoring him to the moment. Trembling ever-so-slightly, he runs his hand through his hair. It felt real.

He will eventually will himself into being calmer. In fact most of his distress will manifest itself very inwardly and not show physically, much. His heart will be beating faster than normal, his body not as steady as he would wish it was, making him all too aware of his structure and bones.

Once his breathing is more or less normalized he will lay down again, comforted by his s/o’s steady breathing, by their warmth. He will wrap himself around them, pulling them against him carefully as to not wake them. He won’t fall asleep again, instead choosing to run his hands through their body and skin, allowing the feel of him to bring him back to reality and function as a balm to his spirit.

Yagi Toshinori (All Might)

Normally a light sleeper, Toshinori also barely moves in his slumber. The memories of his old life - his old body - still deeply ingrained in his habits and behaviour. So despite not occupying the same room as before and not being accidentally rough or strong, he will still sleep in a very still manner. His ears pricked, ready to jump into action even as his quirk and power abandons him by the minute.

So he floats, his dream is unreal and abstract, disappearing in itself before he can make any sense of it. Which is alright, it’s not like he’s trying. It’s mindless and pleasant, like being in a warm cloud, abstracted from all thoughts and worries.

He’s grabbed then, suddenly. Infinite hands holding his body, dragging him towards darkness. He still can’t make sense of things, but now it brought only anxiety and despair. What’s going on? What is it? He’s surrounded. Instinct kicks in and he deals the only way he knows how - the way he learned would always solve the situation. He punched.

Nothing happens, shadows only attached to him with suffocating pressure. Dissolving under his fists and binding him as if they were chains. They lamented, cried for help. It filled his ears and heart, because he understood to be haunted, recognizing his ghosts. He needed to be able to save them, he should be able to. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and yet they called for him, for All Might.

Desperate he fought the hands, the pressure of the shadows, because now he could hear his s/o’s voice. The agonized scream bringing dread to his heart, and suddenly he couldn’t move. Released, he falls to the ground, no longer All Might. Now only the Yagi Toshinori in his fragile, skinny, useless body. He could only watch as the vengeful ghosts took over the person he loved the most, imprisoning them with death grips. Filling their lungs with darkness. They looked at him, wide eyes streaming with desperate tears, pleading for the help he could no longer provide. Dying for him, for his mistakes. And he could only watch, paralyzed, heartbroken. Useless.

That’s when he jerks awake, sitting up as if he was punched in the gut, almost falling off the bed in the process. He goes into a coughing fit, struggling for air. He’s all stiff muscle and cramped tendons, pain overcoming his own being when sorrow hits him like a truck. Eyes wet, blood dripping down his chin, he looks up.

His s/o is sleeping in bed, their chest rising and falling reassuringly. He battles down the cough threatening to spill more blood in the sheets and tries to calm down. They are alright, his ghosts were his weight to bear. And only his. And they were alright, it’s all that mattered.

Moving sparingly as to not wake them, he settles down again, joints cracking with the effort. Heart heavy and yet relieved, he carefully wraps their hand with his, needing a point of contact. And wills himself back to sleep, this time keeping the past at bay.

Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Yamada is the sort to be having a nice dream about him and his s/o, maybe traveling and on a nice date. So he smiles in his sleep, may even laugh as he does so. Letting out a quiet laugh, the kind he wouldn’t do while awake; his tones are all surprisingly softer when he’s in sandman’s embrace.

Then his dream will slowly and discreetly shift towards a darker setting. Somehow his nice trip takes a twist and he finds himself in a bad situation, fighting a bunch of very violent villains. He asks his s/o to hide - or he must have, he surely must, that’s procedure so how could he forget? - but Yamada must have somehow forgotten because he turns and one of them have his s/o in a firm chokehold.

His heart goes to his throat, in ways that a battle would never usually make him feel. The distraction works and next thing he kens he’s on the ground, head pressed hard against the concrete, blood filling his mouth when he accidentally bites his tongue on impact.

For once, he can’t scream, he can’t. Because his s/o is doing that for him, the terrorized sound deafening him with absolute despair. He fights against the weight on top of him, and a hand pushes him harder against the floor, mercilessly scratching his skin raw. He can’t move, he can’t get away, he can’t. All he can do is watch in horror as their screams disappear into nothing more than dry whimpers, strength leaving their body faster than their blood paints the sidewalk.

That’s when he wakes up, startled and with a scream lodged in his throat. But he does not release it, he can’t; it chokes him. The panic’s still settled deep in his bones, too overwhelming and real for him to let out more than a whimper. He couldn’t save them. He had an all around powerful quirk, was a renowned hero, and yet…

Relief takes him over with a bang. His s/o is beside him, safe and sound. Yamada can even hear the sudden rush of blood in his eardrums, as time comes back into motion and blood runs back to his paled features. God, he had been so scared.

Au his state of mind, even the usually annoying snoring of his s/o gives him the giggles, and he covers his mouth with a shaking hand to suppress it. He hasn’t recovered from the intense emotions and doesn’t wish to wake his s/o up to find him in that state.

He does need some comfort, however. So in the morning, his s/o will wake up to find him buried in their embrace, though they don’t recall sleeping in that position. Yamada’s face is against their neck, facial hair tickling their skin slightly. They think him asleep but he couldn’t go back to it, preferring instead to just be close and assure himself that they were indeed alive and well. In the position, they are able to kiss his forehead softly, still half asleep and pleased to have him so close.

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