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farawayfroppy · 8 months

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Evergreen – I am swept up in you; please don't dispose of me

part 2 ↣ part 1

izuku midoriya x reader

cw: aged up characters, pro-hero au, lots and lots of angst, some canon-typical violence and deaths, Izuku experiences triggers, panic attacks, and nightmares, Reader has a dream-altering quirk, adult language, Reader is referred to as she/her. i see a lot of myself in midoriya so i gave him the therapy that i need

~3k words

hey all! been a while. oops. i started my first year of teaching, so i have had no time to write. i wasn't even planning on posting this i til i had written more of it, but i wanted you to know that i tried lol. i know it's not much, but i hope you enjoy. - Jean xx

Just like that, Izuku found himself back at work.

He knew it was probably too soon, knew it wouldn’t look good to the press or feel like anything other than painful for himself, but he also knew he had a job to do. One of the bastards that had aided in stealing two lives, right in front of him, had gotten away and he hadn’t even known. Hell, beyond that, there was an entire crime ring that seemed to be growing, getting bolder, right under all of their noses.

As much as he didn’t want to relive any of it, to think about it even in the slightest, he knew that as the only hero on the scene that day, he was also a witness. Shouto had wanted information, and now he had it—first hand.

Once inside the doors of his agency, away and safe from the cameras and prying eyes, he made a beeline for his office. He took the stairs today, not bothering with the elevator, where he might have felt like an animal in a cage. That panicked feeling was happening again as he ascended the stairs. Up and up, around and around, it was all blurring together. When he finally reached his floor, he burst through the door, startling an intern standing near a water fountain that was placed a little too closely to the exit.

Izuku mumbled, “Sorry,” but didn’t slow his pace.

He tried not to think about the astounded looks he received from his coworkers as he flew down the hallway. He realized then that he probably should have notified someone, at least his secretary, of his return. As he neared his office, he passed by her, and she rose from her desk with a surprised expression.

“Oh, Deku, you’re back already?” She asked, trying to disguise the shock in her voice. Thinly veiled, painted over with politeness in a way he knew all too well. The customer service voice was like the landlord special of communication, skirting around and covering up the real issues.

He knew it was for his benefit. She was gentle and kind, but he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t feel like he deserved gentle. He didn’t have the capacity to accept kindness, didn’t know how to hold it while already juggling so much. But he wasn’t mean.

“Yep,” he replied, trying to muster up a smile. Tight-lipped, but passable. “Sorry about the disruption, Jane, but I’ll be pretty busy now, so don’t let anyone in. Thanks!” He rushed out before all but diving into the sanctity of his office.

“But—“ he heard her start just as he closed his door, locking it for good measure.

Izuku sighed, slumping against the door with his head down. He felt like crying. He felt small again. How could a man who had accomplished so much, who drew so many eyes, feel so minuscule unto himself? It was hard to live like this, feeling bad for feeling bad, for complaining when he had such privilege and responsibility. There was no end.

“Hey, squirt,” he heard a gruff voice say.

Startled, he shot up, being met with the sight of Bakugou standing near his desk.

“Wh—how did you know I would be here?” He stammered, floored by his friend’s presence and immediately sobered. “Also, I told you to stop calling me that, because—“

Bakugou cut him off, “It’s gross and weird, I know.” He snickered, his shit-eating grin somehow a sight for Izuku’s sore eyes at that moment. “Your mom called me,” he explained, and Izuku cursed to himself quietly.

He should have known. Mama Inko always needed a spy on the inside to make sure he wasn’t lying about being okay. Which, to her credit: he was totally lying about being okay.

“She said you were coming back here today and asked me to make sure you weren’t throwing up and pissing everywhere," he said, and Izuku raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

“My words, not hers,” Bakugou continued. “And you haven’t puked yet, which is a good sign I guess, but do I spy a little pee running down your leg?” He taunted, making his way closer to his green-haired companion to place a large, gloved hand over his face.

Izuku groaned, prying Bakugou’s hand off of him, “Why do you always have to be so gross? And do you ever wash your gloves?”

His friend scoffed in response, “Tch. Haven't you heard I smell like caramel?"

Izuku shuddered, "Caramelized onion maybe. Go take a bath."

Bakugou gave him a long, pointed look before speaking again," So you're really gonna be okay this time, eh?"

Izuku felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion, knowing his expression was probably all too readable to his friend of many years, at least if his stupid smirk was anything to go by.

"What do you mean?" he said indignantly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You look like you're here," Bakugou started, "and you may even feel like you're here," he continued, giving Izuku just enough of a shove to make him lose his balance momentarily.

"Hey–" he started to protest, stopping when Bakugou jabbed at his forehead, right between the eyes.

"But up here, you're somewhere else. And usually, you stay there longer," he explained, pulling his hand back to cross his arms, "but you're coming back to us. I can tell 'cause you sound like an idiot again–less deranged, though–but still stupid. I'm way past hoping you'll give up on being perfect or whatever, but you're making a little more sense than you were when I came by your apartment," he said, rolling his eyes as he continued, "Ya know, before you so rudely kicked me out and left me arguing with the fuckin' door. Anyway, that's a good enough sign for me to tell your mom not to get her panties in a twist," he finished.

"Because you care so much," Izuku stressed the words, "I am fine, just like I said when you barged into my apartment before," he paused. Then, with a face of disgust and exasperation, he screeched, "And can you not talk about my mom's panties?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bakugou relented. "How 'bout that neighbor chick that lives next to ya?" he smirked. "Bet hers have little cherries on 'em. And let me tell ya, they were all tied up in knots over you."

Izuku froze, feeling his ears get hot with a blush as your face came to mind–all pinched up in concern–and he immediately stared at his shoes.

"My neighbor?" he asked in disbelief, "When did you talk to her?" He peeked up.

Bakugou grinned, knowing he had struck gold with this line of conversation, "After you locked me out of your place. She came home and saw me arguing away with your closed door–asked if you were okay."

"And?" Izuku prompted, watching as his friend shoved his hands in his pockets so nonchalantly, like he didn't just say something potentially life-ruining. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Bakugou shrugged, watching Izuku's mouth open in shock. "Didn't know you had the hots for her. Not just gonna give some creep info on you in your time of dire need."

Izuku must have visibly deflated, because he continued, "Don't implode; I wasn't mean to her. She looked all...concerned and shit, so you still got a shot."

Izuku sighed, half-relieved that he didn't scare you off and half-annoyed by his friend's tendency to be nosy.

"She's just nice, okay?" He asserted. "Not that you're ever gonna shut up about this, regardless of what I say," he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "And don't talk about her panties either," he ordered.

Bakugou mockingly put his hands up in defeat, "Got it, squirt. I'm heading out now, anyway, now that I've busted up your pity party," he gestured vaguely as he headed toward the door. "I'll tell your mom you haven't keeled over and died yet," he said finally.

He unlocked the door and started to turn the handle as Izuku went to his desk and took a seat, newly determined and ready to get to work.

Bakugou opened the door and began to step out, pausing as he said, "I'm glad you're better now. Than you were that day, I mean." He then added, without any real bite, "Won't have to pick up your slack."

And Izuku didn't know what to say. He nodded, and the other man left. Slumping in his chair, Izuku breathed deeply, not feeling as much of the weight that had been there before, but deep down, he knew that calling himself 'better' was too generous. He understood, though.

The last time he saw Bakugou was right after he had gotten home. Post-incident, post-bullet wound–could you blame him for not making sense? And he was so angry. Just so angry, like he hadn't been in a long time. His friend had come by to try to put an early end to his downward spiral, but he wouldn't listen to any of it. He couldn't. It's like his eyes and ears and, hell, his entire head had been filled with cotton. There had been one time like it in the past, a time that Bakugou had bore witness to just how much the job really affected Izuku.

A few years back, fresh out of school, they had been called on to a kidnapping case. This girl in a small town had disappeared, and people feared it might have been the work of a trafficking ring from a nearby city. They were right. The two of them managed to infiltrate the house that they had been holding the girl hostage in. They even found her.

Izuku still remembers how he had scooped her up, promising that she would be safe again. Promising that she would feel safe again. Bakugou had been fighting close by, securing their exit, a plan they had become accustomed to by then.

They both agreed that Izuku was better at the hands-on rescuing stuff, a more calming presence during a really traumatic time for the victims they saved. And Bakugou was doing what he did best, fighting with an almost reckless abandon. They were almost out, the majority of the suspects involved had been subdued either on the way in or by Bakugou's hands on the way out. But they missed one.

They missed a man who waited for them right at the top of the stairs, one who shot without hesitation. The bullet should have hit Izuku right in the chest, but he was holding the girl he had promised to save. It hit her instead, saving his life but ending hers almost instantly.

It wasn't instant, though. And he remembers how she had looked up at him, with shock, disbelief, pain, and fear. But more than that, he remembered the look of hope. And he doesn't know if it was confusion, or ill-advised optimism that would never cease despite the odds, but she spoke her last words to him then.

"Don't worry," she had choked out, with a smile and the tears on her cheeks that betrayed it.

"Deku will save us."

Izuku felt too warm, trying to shake his head to rid himself of the memory.

"Work," he reminded himself. "Work, work."

He knew that his best chance of preventing anything like that from happening again was to stop it before it started. He had to find the evil in the world and snuff it out before it could spread. But evil doesn't exist in a vacuum.

Evil is born and raised. It's shut out, dealt a bad hand. Loved or unloved; seen or unseen. Evil is a product of generations of the product of an evening. It can sometimes be found in minds and hearts, but always in places it shouldn't be.

It had been hard for Izuku to learn that evil wouldn't be going anywhere despite his best efforts. Like the the night to the day, it just is. He didn't know if it was necessary, and understood that ultimately, he would not be the one to decide. He could only be evil's consequence, but that had consequences for him as well. Everything balanced out, one way or another. All he could do was try to tip the scales in favor of the righteous and the good.

He spent the next few hours pouring over any and all footage from the incident, as well as witness testimonies. From that, he could gather a decent description of the second perpetrator despite his face being partially obscured. The guy was too coward to even show his face, so he'd worn sunglasses and a baseball cap. He did, however, neglect to cover the tattoos that covered his arms, and some were familiar.

At this point, Izuku had seen criminals of all kinds, and was starting to be able to tell who ran with who just based on their tattoos and general demeanor. But while these looked familiar, he couldn't exactly place them. They were slightly different than those of the main gang that ran in his area, so he decided he would send an enhanced (as enhanced as possible based on grainy footage from the scene) photograph of the tattoo he was looking at to both Dynamight and Shouto's agencies. Maybe they would recognize it.

There wasn't much else to go on at the moment, so as difficult as it was, Izuku turned back to the less pressing but very necessary task of filing reports from past cases. Cases--at times very loosely called so--could mean anything from a traffic violation to a minor dispute. Of which, there were many, especially in a big city. It wasn't glamorous, but it was work that needed doing. And, in his absence, the reports had started to pile up.

"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Paperwork."

To Izuku, the minutes seemed to pass more quickly than usual, which was probably due to the fact that he could basically hear the humming of his heartbeat. His leg was bouncing too, unconsciously, a dull anxiety nipping at his throat while his heart turned over in his chest. His vital organs thrumming with energy made him feel connected to the moment in a way he wished he could reject. It came out of nowhere, that thief of focus. Not completely unwelcome, but uncomfortable in a way that made him start to realize the sweat on his skin and the scratch of his collar.

He had been productive, at least, and had burned through the daylight. He checked the time, eyes growing a bit when he realized how long he had been working. He was completely caught up on paperwork and had even started to get ahead on some things, so he should've known that he had gone way beyond working hours.

He packed his things and left, noticing how he seemed to be the last one in the office. Jane had really taken it to heart when he asked not to be bothered. In some ways, he was relieved. He felt like he'd had enough conversation for the day, so he found a guilty pleasure in walking out in silence. It seemed that even the camera and news crews had taken their leave, and Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

Once he arrived home, he had only just turned the key when your door was thrown open. He flinched, visibly startled, before taking you in.

You looked flustered as you rushed out, "Oh, did I scare you? I'm sorry." Sheepishly you added, "I totally wasn't waiting for you to come home or anything. Just wanted to...look...at the hallway." You nodded then, as if trying to convince yourself, "You know, for fresh air..."

Izuku laughed, slightly confused, but like felt that was the right move.

"Do you want to come over?" You asked suddenly, and he saw something hopeful swimming in your eyes, which were much more open now than the last time he had seen you. He was thankful for that.

Before he could even agree, you said, "I promise I won't fall asleep on you this time."

He really laughed at that as he nodded, "Sure. Give me 10 minutes? I just need to put my stuff away and change."

"No," you whined playfully, slipping back into your apartment. "Don't change. I like you how you are!"

Izuku just laughed at your antics as your door closed, glad to see you much more full of energy. He hoped you were able to get the rest you needed, but knew that fixing that level of deprivation would take a bit of time. You can't catch up on sleep, after all.

#anime #my hero academia #mha #farawaytalks #mha fic #bnha #izuku midoriya #bnha fic #deku #farawaywrites #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero acedamia #deku x reader #bnha deku #mha deku #izuku angst #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n

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farawayfroppy · 2 years

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when people in universe (and outside lowkey) can't separate shigaraki from afo im just reminded of how stain and dabi lowkey made points; izuku had to be the new symbol because he's the one who CAN separate them and will transition society from one that sees good and evil as something so black and white to one that can understand the intricacies of descent into villainy, to madness, to whatever it may be. Which is exactly what they were talking about; create preventative measures rather than just allowing that to happen. Shigaraki is not AFO, because Shigaraki is a young man who 1) never felt seen, heard, or particularly valued and then 2) experienced immense, IMMENSE trauma at a very young age and 3) immediately got taken in by a manipulator who knew he could use him and mold him to his will. If you can't see how someone who had never experienced real connection, affection/praise, having a home (after the incident he was on the street; people would barely even look at him), or purpose would be easily susceptible to manipulation in order to receive those things...These are like the most basic things in the hierarchy of needs that Shigaraki had been denied for so long; of COURSE an actual and literal child is going to go along with whatever he needs to do in order to make sure he is taken care of, can survive, can have his basic needs met. And naturally, a bond to AFO was formed. To Shigaraki, what AFO did was a good thing; he took him in and saved him. Not only that, AFO gave him purpose. Not just by affirming the power and use of his quirk, but by validating those very feelings of neglect, loneliness, and trauma that had brought him to AFO in the first place. If AFO says, "I have a way to make sure that doesn't happen again," naturally Shigaraki is going to want to make that happen. Just as the heroes only see AFO for all of the evil he has done, Shigaraki only sees him for the good. He allows AFO to transition his sadness, loneliness, and fear into hate, because it's easier. Eventually it becomes second nature. If you want progress, at all, you have to be able to see the signs and separate willful evil (for the sake of being evil) from a fall from grace (evil caused by missteps in life, neglect/trauma, manipulation) because they are fundamentally different. You would have much less crime and evil in the world if you reshaped society to prevent the latter from happening to children, to the poor or outcast, to the mentally ill, respectively Toga/Dabi (with Dabi being uniquely failed because of his father's status as a hero), Spinner, and Twice (who is especially sad, to me). You will never know peace if you are reactionary, if you only treat the symptoms and never discover the cause. I think Izuku knows this, which is part of why his character is so important. It had to be him, because he knows what it's like to BE the outcast. He was told from a young age he wouldn't be able to do what he felt he NEEDED to do, he was too weak because he had no quirk. He was bullied and mocked on the daily. He understands those feelings of loneliness and neglect, but he also understands that he overcame them with help. Where Shigaraki had AFO, Izuku had All-Might, which means he got lucky, honestly. The difference between Shigaraki being where he is now or him potentially being a powerful, wonderful hero (or even just a simple, functioning member of society) is intervention. He didn't get the intervention he needed. I hope we see that pushed really hard, otherwise it really is just copaganda lmao

#my hero academia #mha #farawaytalks #tomura shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #bnha afo #all for one #izuku midoriya #deku

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