#Yandere Hizashi Yamada

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere V + H: Aizawa Shouta and Hizashi Yamada

These two are the villains and you the henchman 

A couple of villains perfectly prepared to take on the army of heroes 

You’re probably one of many 

Hundreds of henchmen under the villains are meant to be nameless and faceless 

Just a pair of helping hands to whatever scheme these two seem to come across

“Sirs! I have something important to report!”

“WHAT!? What’s the matter?”

“Out with it! Tell us, then.”

“Mittens…she…”

“Our cat? Oh yeah, you took her to the vet, right? So what’s the matter?”

“She…”

“Go on! We can take it!”

“She’s…”

“...”

“She’s pregnant!” 

“Eureka!!” “So, my suspicions were correct.”

“Congratulations! I’ve brought a cake to celebrate, the awesome news!”

"Wow that's awesome of you!" "Thank you, (Y/n)."

It's your focus on them as people that make them realize your worth

Unlike your coworkers who easily clock out the moment their hours are enough, you stay

Always asking if they’ve eaten, drunk enough water, or if they’ve been able to get to their laundry this week

First, its a key to their private home just to feed the cats

But then it's a meal plan of what they’ll want for dinner

Then the type of detergent for their clothes

And at this rate, they should will just start moving you into their guest bedroom

You’ve just become such an important part of their lives they can’t imagine their lives or their villainy without you:

Shota did a double take at the mass of eager minions he was prepared to lead. Not seeing a familiar face smiling and saluting among them. It would be unnerving if he didn’t remember that there were chores that he and Yamada assigned; it’d be safe to assume that’s where you there. 

“Uhm babe, did you see (Y/n) on the cameras?”

“No, but I was going to. Did you?”

“Yeah…”

A look of worry and unease was on Yamada’s face, he pulled out his phone pulled up the feed of multiple cameras, and turned the screen to his significant other who had a bad feeling. The feed was clear, and a video of the cats and kittens walking around the house was sped up as the hours continued on. The speed-up footage seemed to slow as you stumbled into the room, wobbling haphazardly as the felines crowded around you as you prepared their food. He watched as you jerked and jumped to what seemed like sneezing. You eventually left but the thought of your state alone was upsetting.

“They’re…sick.”

“Yeah, but what’s worse they didn’t even say anything to me! What about you?”

“No.”

The couple grew silent, enveloped in an unnerved feeling as they looked at their beloved henchman through the screen. Shota was the first to look away, reaching for a device on his belt that held a blinking moving dot. He noted the time on his watch, humming to himself as he adjusted his cape.

“We’ve got time to catch our kitten, but we must be quick.”

__________________________________________

You felt despicable. More than your stuffy nose and rising temperature, you felt despicable with yourself. For getting yourself sick in the first place. How could you be the best henchman you could if your body wasn’t working correctly? It made you feel even worse.

You couldn’t properly serve the couple after they so lovingly offer for you to stay in their home. Granted they were awfully adamant about that going so far as to start moving your clothes and other things into the guest room in their house. But who were you to question their kindness when you were just a mere stepping stool to their villainous success?

Deep down you couldn’t help but let your insipid doubts creep in. Like why your heart beat so fast when you walked in to find the couple going through your fridge. Or when the couple send an uplifting photo of your ex being waterboarded. It shouldn’t strike fear into your heart that your employers were so involved. You were being ungrateful. That’s what got you sick. Your unwillingness to let them further involve themselves in your life is to blame for the weakness in your immune system. You’re not sick from stress…right?

“Here’s your medicine! Hope you get better hun!”

“Thanks, miss.”

Thanking the old woman as you retrieved your medication from over the counter. Trudging out the pharmacy you planned to begin the long trek back home. Completely unaware of a flashy hero stopping their route to slowly float next to you.

“Oh troubled citizen! May I be of assistance?”

The loud question grated your ears as you refused to focus on anything other than keeping awake. 

“No. Go away.”

“But dear citizen I cannot for you seem to need help!”

You groaned at their insistence reminded of the enemy your employers were especially not fond of…infact—You finally looked with familiarized malice at the shining mass and recognizable hair at the hovering super-powered individual. 

“You’re that one hero…aren’t you?”

“So you know of me? Good! Then you have the honor of being under my care!” 

“We don’t think so.”

The monotone and distorted voice of The Eraser had you both looking up at the villains in shocked stupor. Both were fully decked out in their villain armor menacingly standing still in broad daylight. The Mic was uncharacteristically silent further upsetting your already flipping stomach. It didn’t seem that the hero felt any semblance of that though.

“You two? My it seems you have the most uncanny sense for where I am! Perhaps you’re stalking me?”

You could tell he was rolling his eyes under his visor but the villain still reached a gloved hand out to you. 

“(Y/n) come with me, I’ll be taking you to our home, now.” 

You didn’t know why your feet weren’t moving or why your hands shook as you reached out. Or why your heart was pumping so fast. Perhaps that was why you let the hero put an arm out in front of you as he lightly shoved you further behind his back.

“Do not hark their villainous temptations (MY/n)! They only wish to unsettle me with a hostage–” 

His heroic declarations were interrupted by the sudden closeness of The Mic their speaker enhanced mouthpiece dangerously close to their exposed ear.

“Don’t you dare touch them!”

The hero cringed further keeping you behind him as he backed up. Holding the side of his head he swung it back and forth between the villains. With an unexpected battle cry he opened his palms towards the villains before frantically shaking it when he found no reaction.

“W-what is this?! Why can’t I–?”

“Did you forget who you were fighting? Idiot.”

“Wellll the idiot is realizing just how much of a moron he is maybe we’ll grant some mercy.”

“M-mercy?”

“Yup you give us our lovely (Y/n)! And we won’t immediately squash you to bits!”

“Immediately?”

“Do I hafta keep repeating myself? Just give us the kitten we’ll be up on and on our way! Okay?”

“That is until we return to beat you to a bloody pulp for so much as talking to them. See (Y/n) this is why you should just stay home, it just means more carnage for everyone else. Besides you’re so sick I bet you can’t even think straight, come home (Y/n).”

“Yeah precious how about we just go home…”

“You want watch us obliterate him would you?”

[itsabouttimex2]

I’d just like to say your content is the entire reason I started watching LMK, and it has been my favorite show by FAR. Love reading your works and using your bots, you’re incredibly skilled! Thank you for doing what you do cause gosh we need more people like you haha

Waaah thank you so much, this means a lot to me! You guys really are the sweetest and it’s very dear to me to hear that I’ve had a positive impact here and there. Thank you so much!

Anyways, have some memes!

[artemis32]

subjugation vi

i'm on my period and i am dying, so - here's a drabble no one asked for

****

subjugation masterlist

Thinking about EraserMic and how they treat you while you're on your period.

If you thought they were overbearing before, you have no idea how little breathing room you'll have now - literally.

Let's follow the order of events.

First, you'll become snippy with them, even more short off than you usually are. Normally, they can ignore your sharp quips and snarled words and move on with the conversation, but really, with the way you're acting, they can't let that kind of behaviour slide.

There's really no other way to describe it - you were being a bitch. A nasty one.

So they punish you in that strange way of theirs, forcing you to keep them company, overwhelming you with their presence, metaphorically force-feeing you their presence.

That does nothing but make it worse, pushing your already irritable mood to the edge.

Except this time, instead of snapping at them and lashing out as you usually would, you're pushed to the more emotional side of things.

Hizashi is horrified when you burst into tears in the middle of the living room, sniffling as you try in vain to mop up your tears with your shirt sleeve.

He'd expected you to become emotional, just not like this. You hardly ever cried, and even when you did, you tried to make sure it wasn't around the two of them.

You probably thought it made you look weak. What a ridiculous notion.

He lays a hesitant palm on your shoulder, patting it awkwardly as he murmurs softly.

"...you okay?"

As your sniffles grow to sobs, he cringes back.

He discusses it with Shota that night while you sleep, having gone to bed early. It was unusual for you to be exhausted this early in the evening, but the two took the opportunity to discuss your recent odd behaviour.

They talk in circles for most of the night, never settling on one reason for your outburst.

A few days later though, all is revealed.

You could try to hide it for a bit, but you won't last all that long. Not with two observant, seasoned pro heroes monitoring your every movement.

Try as you might, you can't hide the pain on your features, or the odd grimace here and there, or the fact that you're using wads of toilet paper as pads.

Unsurprisingly, you hadn't had your period in the months following your abduction. Who would've thought that extreme stress and anxiety would cause your period to be all but non-existent.

That unfortunately meant that the house wasn't very well equipped to handle a woman or her cycle.

Pads or tampons? Zero.

Pain killers? Ziltch.

Heating pads? None.

Chocolate? Nada.

But once they'd realised what was really going on, the situation was quickly remedied.

That's how you found yourself smothered under a pile of blankets, squished between the two pro heroes on the couch, being forced to drink warm tea by the cupful.

In a way, it was almost... nice?

It was warm and comfortable, and the painkillers Shouta had all but shoved down your throat had done wonders for your cramps. And it didn't hurt that they weren't trying to talk to you, or interact with you at all beyond the occasional shift in positioning.

Not to mention, the crushing weight of their bodies on you felt almost soothing.

(Also Shouta had such nice, warm hands - they're large too, comforting as they encompass your lower stomach, gently massaging the cramping, bloated area).

That's how you find yourself dozing off as some or other reality tv show plays on in the background.

****

They'd act like that all week, treating you like some fragile kitten, careful not to make any sudden sounds or movements.

Of course, they go back to usual as soon as your period is over, but for those glorious few days, it's as if they almost don't exist, only ever bothering you to bring you what you want.

It's almost worth the cramps, back aches, tender breasts and awful mood swings.

Almost.

Except, a few months down the line, Hizashi realises he has a thing for period sex, and it definitely doesn't hurt that it's supposed to help with cramps.

You can't blame him, he's just trying to help you.

So what if he gets off in the process?

****

Hizashi is a period sex kinda man and you can't convince me otherwise. Man's is nasty.

I'll definitely expand on this some other time :))

[thetreefairy]

Platonic Aizawa and Present mic reaction to reader walking to the dorms with Shinso and find this weird slimy plant thing and what’s to keep it(I be trying to bring weird shit home)

(I was looking at Pinterest and I see the most funniest face of Aizawa and Mic made and I can’t get it out my head)

I love this idea, sorry that's late, I am still studying. and hehe its kinda short af.

so this is one of those reaction thingies

just pure fluff but I suppose a slimy plant can be a warning?

Reader and shinso walking to the dorms, carrying snacks and some boba.

Well mainly Shinso is carrying the snacks, since he's an overprotective bitch.

While the two were walking, Shinso was ranting on why they should allow cats in the dorms.

*Reader sees plant, and goes to pick it up, it kind looks like a slime monster*

"You are coming home with me."

*Reader grinned with a smile, and shinso couldn't disagree and let them take the plant.*

*Aizawa however looked at the plant went he went to do a dormcheck and screamed, causin Hizahi to see wtf is going on and he screamed as well. Almost activating his quirk until Reader calmed his ass down*

"This is now my friend!"

yeah maybe they should let you get real friends.

Im sorry that this is so shitty, I am currently working on other requests and a line out for p.2 from the y!shigaraki x reader x y!platonic!Erasermic.

[drefear]

Hopelessly Devoted To You…

Yandere Hizashi/Present Mic x Reader

TW: blood, fighting, death, anxiety, smut, p in v, rough sex, pain, slight choking, lying, angst

Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you

The pain in my legs was proof that the strain on my muscles was ripping them apart. I couldn’t hold myself up for much longer, let alone keep running. How did I not see this coming? Music hummed in the decaying building, his loud humming like the lullaby of my death. The blood in my eyes from the wound on my head made it very hard to see where I was going, but I was able to make out the halls and doors. Grabbing a doorknob, I struggled to force it open as the knob felt like it had been cemented shut. Where were the police? Where was Aizawa? Hawks? Anyone?

My lungs burned like they were filled with acid, every breath causing a severe stabbing pain in my chest. Shoving myself into the door, it finally burst open and I saw my fears coming true.

The red feathers on the ground were a lifeless and dull, no beautiful scarlet shine like I’d seen only a few hours ago. No, they were completely desolate of any shine. This was bad, this was really bad. Tiptoeing into the room, I quietly shut the door behind myself and made my way around the big desk in the center. The sight was unsavory, almost nauseating.

The stuttering breathing of my partner, Hawks, was just loud enough to overshadow the music echoing and my heartbeat. His eyes shot up at me, shakey and panicked as he gasped once again. I moved like lightning, pulling fabric from my hero costume to compress his wounds. He did this? Loud, quick footsteps made my hands freeze for a split second before I recognized the weight of those steps, continuing to push down on his wounds.

“Move, I’ll cauterize his wounds a bit with my fire, just go find him.” Dabi nudged me out of the way slightly as I sucked in air from his presence. “Just remember, once this is over, we’re still enemies.”

“Agreed.” My eyes glared at him as I tugged my visual blockers down over my eyes and dashed out of the room. The faint steps I heard were coming from above.

You know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But, baby, can't you see

There's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you

“Lime green and unseen. She is pristine!” His voice was quieter than usual, casting a spell of fear over my body.

This wasn’t the Hizashi we all knew and loved. This was a monster, a man possessed.

“Come out and play, little listener!” He called, the windows breaking from his quirk. I couldn’t help but cover my ears and duck down, then dashing to the nearest staircase. He wanted to find me, and so I’d play into his hand.

Finally getting to the top of the stairs, I saw him leaning against a doorframe, swirling a finger around something, bulky and strangely shaped. Stepping closer, I saw the light shine on him. His hair down and wild, sunglasses tucked into his hair, sleeves ripped off his arms and voice modulator covering his neck. He was unhinged.

But what caught my eye was the yellow goggles he was toying with. Covered in blood.

My sensei was in trouble.

But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

“Where is he?!” I screamed at him and his lips just smirked into an unsettling expression.

“Whatdya mean? Ya didn’t see ‘m when ya walked in?” His eyes looked at me through his lashes and a shiver went down my spine. I glanced from side to side but nothing. That’s when I saw it. A single drop of liquid fell from the ceiling. Looking up, I saw Aizawa tied in his own scarf with his eye blindfolded, bleeding from his arm and head.

“Let him down!”

“Now now, little listener. You aren’t in any position to be ordering me around. We both know your strengths and weaknesses, and none of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.” His words rang in my ears as I thought back to the weeks leading up to this.

Hopelessly devoted to you

I’d gotten close with Hizashi, my old teacher and friend. I’d confided in him, trusted him, and he would comfort me when I needed it. Days turned to weeks and soon, we had become more than just friends. I knew about his feelings, I knew I had some too, but I wanted to be a hero and focus on my dreams. Comforting turned to something else one night and we went to a place we couldn’t go back from. It was wonderful, he was wonderful. Everything I’d ever wanted.

Hopelessly devoted to you

At least the good side of him was, but jealous was something I’d never seen from him and when I worked with Hawks, he seemed to get unexplainably irritable and angry. He would ignore me for hours after I’d get off of work, not answer my texts, and then show up at random hours of the day to visit me at work. Patrol was even worse, he was always “running into” us. I knew Hawks was in a serious relationship, but he couldn’t talk about it because of our job. We were hero’s, and his partner was not, so anyone knowing about his relationship could put their life in jeopardy.

Hizashi didn’t believe me, didn’t care what I said. So naturally, I broke things off. It hurt, it hurt so badly, as I was in love with him, but if he couldn’t trust me and communicate with me, what was I to do?

And now here I was, standing across from my ex lover, the man I thought I’d marry for a time of my life, about to fight him to the death.

Hopelessly devoted to you

“Hizashi, this isn’t you. This isn’t who I’m in love with, just give in and we can go home!” My eyes filled with tears and my hand reached out, hoping he’d take the short amount of steps in between us and hold it.

His eyes flashed to uncertainty for a second before hardening again and locking me out.

“You’re lying to me. You were always lying to me!” He screams and the power of his voice has me clamping my hands over my ears, blood dripping out a bit. I take a step forward, hand still reached out.

“I never lied. You’ve always been the only one for me. How could I love anyone else when I had you?” My voice is weak, stuttering as I feel my bottom lip quiver. The sadness I feel is uncontrollable and I’m doing everything I can to not fall into a crumbled mess on the ground. “Come back to me, Zashi… please.” I beg, and he steps to me.

“I’ll fix this if you promise to be mine. Right here, right now.”

“I’m already yours until the end of time.” I answer but he sneers, aggravated.

“That’s not what I mean.” He pulls off a glove and what he wants finally clicks.

“We- Shota is on the ceiling-“

“He can’t see anything, and he probably can’t hear.” The comfortable way he says this makes my skin crawl, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been craving him this whole time. “You want me to surrender? Prove I’m your man.”

My head is saying, "Fool, forget him."

My heart is saying, "Don't let go.

I gulp, the dryness in my throat making me sputter a cough and he reaches out to me from concern, his true self breaking through. “Okay…” I agree, “yes.” And his hands are on me, pulling at the costume, or what’s left of it. The torn pieces of my outfit were ripping wider, the seam of my green pants tearing all the way up to my stomach. His calloused hands trace my thighs and without hesitation, two of his fingers rub against my clit. It’s rough and hurried, but god it feels amazing. His mouth finds the spot behind my ear instantly and I reach out. The groan he lets out against my skin as I palm him through his jeans is intoxicating.

“Zashi… please!” I whimper, and he nods, biting me and inserting a finger in me at the same time. My world spins for a moment as the two sensations collide and I grind against his hand, his thumb taking the place of those two fingers on my sensitive button.

I make quick work of his buckle and try to tug down his pants, getting them to his thighs as his hard erection slaps up against his abdomen. Even in the darkness, I can see his jacobs latter and my insides are preening at the memory, of how I remember it feels.

His lips attack when he catches me staring and I use my own slick to coat my hand and pump him slowly, but he rips my hand away and picks me up by the waist. It all happens so fast, I can’t even see anything until my back hits a cold wall and his head is at my entrance, spreading me open and about to enter me raw. We’ve never done that, and I’m so anxious about it, but I need it just as bad as he does.

“Ready, baby?” He asks and I nod, gazing into those green eyes I know I never want to be without. He pushes in and we both let out a pleading sound, the piercings shuffling around my insides and making me arch my back in pleasure. After the first push, it’s a relentless fucking and I can just hold on as he takes me against the wall. As he’s facing the wall, I peer one eye open just in time to see a specific shadow drop from the ceiling silently and take off his blindfold. My cheeks heat up and I shake my head, hoping he gets the message and he does. He runs out, but Hizashi can’t hear him over his own grunts and my whines.

His hand grabs my throat and I orgasm immediately, feeling him near his end from the clench of my walls around him. A few more destructive thrusts and I feel him fill me, but warmth flowing into me as I twitch from the pure endorphins this is causing.

Our bodies slump together as he pulls himself out and watches our mixed juices drip down my thighs. I moan a bit from the feeling and pant from exhaustion, right before looking up at him and beginning to cry.

Hold on till the end.

And that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you

“Baby, why are you-” He cups my cheek as I cut him off.

“Forgive me… Hizashi, forgive me and know that I will never love anyone more than I love you…” I keep my head nuzzled into his open hand as I bawl my eyes out, then feeling his hand ripped away from me and seeing him get handcuffed and pinned to the ground through my tears.

“You lied to me!” He yells at me, but Eraserhead had understood my silent plea from before and was able to get the police and backup, also erasing Hizashi’s quirk so he couldn’t yell anymore.

“I’m sorry!” I cry out as Aizawa grabs a blanket and covers my half naked body, costume ripped and torn from both the battle and my ability to give him a false sense of safety. “You would have killed…”

But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

“It was all because I love you!” He yells again and I turn my face away, still shaking from sobs. Aizawa pulls me into his chest for a hug and shields me from Hizashi’s constant screams and verbal attacks. My heart shatters in my ears and I’m left with the feeling of pure emptiness, much like the whole week of us being apart has felt like. Now, Hizashi will be sent to prison and I will be alone again. “All for you!”

But he won’t be able to harm anyone else.

Hopelessly devoted to you

About a week later, I’m still recovering and visiting Hawks in the hospital, as well as Bubble girl and Fatgum. We all went into that battle and only a few came out able to function, the rest were under 24/7 hospital care. Like Hawks.

“Kid, relax.” He said to me, “none of this was your fault. You didn’t know he was a yandere.”

“He… he isn’t.” I blurt out and I hear a cough from behind me, turning to see Aizawa.

“Actually, a few psychiatrists sent in the reports yesterday. He has been classified as a yandere, and they are keeping him under surveillance because of his uncontrollable emotions.” The black haired man spoke and my chest was once again empty.

“But you’re safe now, he’s locked up, and you have nothing to fear.”

Hopelessly devoted to you

That was almost ten years ago. I have a family, children, a loving husband, and I haven’t looked back. But sometimes, I feel like someone’s watching me, or calling my name. A few times, I feel someone grab my wrist or whisper in my ear in public, but when I turn, no one is there.

I knew I was just imagining things, as I turned out the lights in my kitchen and slid into bed. My husband barely moved as the bed shiftly, getting into my side and feeling him.

“Baby you’re so cold…” I mumbled and kiss the back of his neck.

He doesn’t answer.

But the voice coming from my doorway does.

Hopelessly devoted to you

“Hello again, Little Listener.”

[yandererererere]

Okay, the MHA yandere fandom has a real problem of only doing yan EraserMic. Please let Mic have his own darling (romantic). Stop making him share all the time. Please, I just want a dark fic of yan Mic with his own male darling. Is that too much to ask for?

[yandere-kokeshi]

Ello! Can you do An Erasermic Hc with Reader Who Has a quirk Similar to both of them? Its About 3am here so I'm sorry if my English sucks-

Warnings: yandere behavior and talks about quirk deactivation; specifically cuffs.

A/N: hiii, you're totally fine! Since you didn't specify if this was romantic or platonic; I did the platonic route. Hope this works!

Hope you enjoy :3

This is a bonding moment between you three!! You can bet your ass that they will teach you small tricks and tips about things they’ve been taught.

While Aizawa is a bit disappointed, he is a bit happy that you two have similar quirks and he can use this to spend time with you. He does worry about you overworking yourself or simply using it to escape.

Hizashi, on the other hand, is incredibly stocked. The two of you (Aizawa and you) had to cover your ears when he realized you could yell just as loud as him, or try to do that! He’s immediately yelling out things that you two could do for fun before Aizawa snapped at him to zip it.

Depending on what you do, it’s likely you’re at U.A. High School. This basically means these two will try to have you training with them almost 24/7, following you around and gently telling you what you’re doing wrong and what you could approve of.

Much like the headcanon above: they are always glued to your hip, and at least one of them is always around you. You’re not allowed to leave the school premises without one of them being near you.

At best, one of them is always in the same room with you — watching TV, eating, and sometimes talking to you during your short breaks and lunch break.

Because of your quirk, you can bet that Hizashi will bring you to karaoke night! Preferably, late on Fridays and weekend nights; allowing you to eat whatever you want (and yes, you can eat as many sweets) and drink as much pop as you want.

Although, you will get to take naps with Aizawa. Not only will you get to share his yellow sleep bag and have a small chance of skipping class; but don’t expect to get away with the homework!

At some point, it’s expected for you to act out. Showing this, they will use every percussion available to make sure you don’t use your quirk to escape or hurt yourself/or them.

If they need to, they will use quirk-deactivating cuffs. Or worse: A permanent chip implanted into you as a way to make you behave. Though, it’ll only be temporary!

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (9/???)

Warnings: unwanted touch, unwanted cuddling, minimal clothing?(not of reader), slight swearing

I’m so freaking conflicted whether or not to leave canon MHA. Found out things that make Mic no longer a comfort character for me, and just losing interest altogether of MHA. I should also mention if it isn’t clear: erasermic sees you romantic, other 2 platonic. You’re also mid 20s.

It was like a stalemate. Time is frozen still. He also glares for a second at Tadao, whom looks like he’s about to pass out where he stands. 

Shouta snaps out of it first, grabs his capture weapon, eyes turn red, and hair waves upward. That must be with his quirk. 

I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever seen his quirk. It’s so rare that maybe I forgot. Or is it the headache not letting- now’s not the point! 

He goes to grab her, but she manages to dodge him and his weapon. 

A shiver yet again wracks through my body. “Ugh.”  

Shouta stops in his tracks and locks eyes with me. He easily dodges a hit Aiya tries to get on him. Is she really so far out of her mind to try attacking a pro hero???

Like a dance off, every time he tosses his scarf, she dodges. Every swing of fist, foot, or even body, she dodges as well. It’s like she knows his attack patterns down to a T. She tries to hit one back, and he manages to dodge as well. 

I’d almost jokingly call it a tango in a way. But with a lot more violence. And that they seem to despise each other’s existences. 

Tadao comes back in front of me and kneels, grabbing the cuffs between my hands. “H- here- uh, try to pull them apart while I do the same. Us pulling together should-” 

He tenses severely as something comes behind him. Make that someone, who is Shouta. 

His glare is murderous. I have to make sure he doesn’t kill Tadao. “Stop!” He’s helping!” 

Shouta’s eyes narrow for a moment before he pulls out a knife. Tadao freezes fully and lets out the most girlish shriek I’ve ever heard from a man as the blade swipes down onto the center of my cuffs between his hands. The blade missing his hands by mere millimeters and breaking the chain before continuing fighting Aiya. 

Tadao scrambles to stand back up. He stands up with his back so tense he could be even more straight than a needle. 

A strange, yet familiar faint smell hits my nose. Did he just?...

His face is extremely red, even in the dim lighting. His hands cover his face. “Not a word… ever, please.” 

“Can you focus on my tied up feet instead, then?” I may as well not tease him, especially because of the situation right now. 

Shouta manages to finally crack a hit onto Aiya’s face. It makes her more angry. 

Tadao at the same time reaches down and tries to mold the ropes. It’s slowly taking over, but not nearly fast enough.  

“How the hell did you even find us!?” She dodges another swing he tries to make. He almost seems more intent on trying to seriously harm her more than capture her. “We covered all our tracks! Sure, we could have been farther from your house, but still! It hasn’t even been an hour!” 

Shouta remains silent, and stays silent through every insult she throws at him. Even the ones including how he stole Hizashi. 

She lets loose another punch, this time Shouta catching her hand. 

He quickly wraps her wrist much more tightly and excessively than needed, then pulls her to him. He swings his leg to be behind hers, and makes her legs buckle by hitting the back of her knees. She loses balance and falls to her knees. He doesn’t wait a second to wrap her up with more of his scarf so tightly to the point it almost seems like she can’t breathe. He then pulls out a phone and calls someone on a phone I didn’t realize he had until now. 

“The suspected abandoned wearhouse. Ex-hero assistant BodyFrost,” his smirk widens as he yanks the binds to tighten it more before releasing it back to the way it was. 

“I’m… going to go. He looks like he’s going to kill me still.” Tadao whispers to me, booking it up the stairs and out the door. 

Shouta thankfully doesn’t go after him. He does however walk over to the- why the necklace? 

He picks it up and walks back over to me. He pulls out the blade again and easily cuts the half-molded ropes binding my ankles. 

He stays still for a second, staring into my eyes, then hugs me bone-crushingly tight. The warmth seeping through his outfit is extremely hard to resist not trying to give into. He stills, seeming to notice my abnormally cold body. He pulls away just enough to lock eyes with me. His face so grossly close I could feel his still rather even breath. His eyes narrow. “Did she use her quirk on you!?”

I slightly nod as a shiver wracks my body again.

“FUCK,” he whips his head towards her and glares at her. She glares back. 

He takes a breath in and sighs. He passes me the necklace, making me so utterly confused. It really shouldn’t be this important. He reaches for me and picks me up effortlessly into a princess carry. 

“She’s lucky I can’t kill her.” He says so quietly that almost not even I could hear him say it.

… What??? 

He ignores my expression. He goes up the stairs with me and gives her another glare before we left as the sound of other people arrived. 

I fiddle with the necklace, trying to forget his body against mine. Being so pressed up I can feel the curve and bulge of each muscle- stop mind!!!

My hand felt a fairly sharp edge sticking out. 

I turn it to the side. There was a fairly large crack. I look closer and something that doesn’t seem to be part of the jewel sticking out. I manage to grab it and pull it out, realizing what it was immediately. Ice cold fear floods through my body to the point I’m pretty sure it’s not just the quirk making me shiver. “You… You put a tracker in the necklace!?”

Shouta grunts in confirmation, moving to a sprint and easily keeping the pace. He looks down at me and then glances at the chip that is now in my hand, then back forward. The lights on the streets showing up temporarily as we pass them. “It’s a good fucking thing we did! You have ANY idea what could have happened if we didn’t!? 

I’ve never heard him so angry and it terrifies- yet it also greatly pisses me off. They could have at least told me! I would have willingly then if it was such a concern! Or maybe something simpler so it wouldn’t be such a blaring red flag to wear! No wonder they’ve been freaking out so badly over a fucking necklace! 

Ugh, I seriously should have known with their obsession over the damn thing. Should I drop it?

You know what? I’m going to drop it. Fuck both parties for lying. Fuck being kidnapped. Fuck getting a stupid quirk used on me. Man, I’m so exhausted from all this. 

I open my hands and just let them fall onto my stomach, then falling to the ground from Shouta’s running. “Oops.” I say “genuinely”. Though not feeling remorseful even the slightest bit. 

He looks down to give me a slight glare, but looks back up again after a second. “It was already damaged anyways. That’s how we knew even faster than we would have. It was set off while I was already in this direction to start my parole for the night. It’s already been over half an hour since you left.”  

Sure hasn’t felt that long. Then again maybe the head pain is a part of it.

It doesn’t take too long for us to get back to their house, though I desperately wish he’d just drop me off at my house. I know that’s out of the question however from how tightly he’s holding me. 

Shouta somehow manages to open the door without even placing me down. Hitoshi is sitting in the living room and stares at us when we get into the house. Most of the lights are off except for the T.V. 

Hitoshi stands up and takes a step closer. “You managed to get them?” He asks in a rather hushed tone. Eri must be sleeping already. 

“A certain nuisance is the one who kidnapped them. Her quirk was lightly used, so Hizashi and I are going to keep a very close eye on them.” 

Hitoshi’s face morphs into one with more concern than he tries to let on. “Will she try to come back?” 

Shouta shakes his head. “Fortunately, she was caught.” He didn’t say anything, yet they kept staring at each other as if having a whole conversation without words again. I seriously question how they’re able to do that. 

“Just don’t stay up too late again.”  

“I’m not making any promises.” 

Shouta narrows his eyes. “I will not have you sleeping in class again. We have those medications for you for a reason to help with your insomnia.” 

Hitoshi quirks a brow. “You’re really going to talk about sleeping in class?”

Shouta just turns and starts heading towards- wait, his and Hizashi’s room!? I start to squirm, making him tighten his grip. “You’re not getting out of this. Like I was telling Hitoshi, we need to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t get worse. We have a couch in there if anything like this were to happen.” 

Liar. I know I would have remembered seeing a couch in your guys’ room at some point. 

He opens their bedroom door, and closes it with his foot. The light is still on in the room, and it doesn’t take long for Hizashi to notice. Worry laces his face upon locking onto my body. 

I refuse to meet eyes with him and look around the room.

Oh. There really is a couch in here. Huh, wonder when that was added. 

“What happened to our sweet Lovesong? Are they injured? Nothing’s broken right? Should I get the med kit!?” He’s rather frantic, but is noticeably trying hard not to be too loud. Did they really put Eri to bed already? 

Shouta shakes his head. “No. Like I just told Hitoshi, Aiya got a hold of them. 

His silence with nothing but a glare is honestly terrifying on a whole different level. “What?” 

His quiet is so much worse than his loud. Like the silence before the storm. Except it feels like the storm skips right over you and destroys everything of your neighbor. 

“She has used her quirk on them, so we need to keep a very close eye to make sure it doesn’t get worse.”

Hizashi goes into his thoughts, and I don’t like the mischievous glint that appears in his eyes. 

“I have the best idea! You could share the bed with us! That way we can keep you warmer too!” 

I internally recoil at the thought of that. Sleeping with a married couple? Specifically even a hero couple? Fuck. No. That’s just awkward and incredibly weird! Why would they even recommend that!? He must not be thinking! I look up at Shouta, who is still carrying me. My face is pleading him to get some sense into Hizashi, but he stayed surprisingly quiet about it, as if actually pondering the idea.

“It could be the best idea in your state. Until the quirk wears off and your body can generate heat normally again.”

… Am I hearing Shouta right? He’s… AGREEING to this!? 

I get placed onto the bed in front of Hizashi, and he doesn’t waste even a second before yanking me back to be pressed up on- oh my god he’s shirtless and I’m pretty sure he isn’t wearing pants. I feel the heat of his legs touch mine. He wraps his arms around me as well. Gross, gross, gross, stop touching! Let me go! 

I start trying to squirm, but Hizashi is surprisingly strong, preventing me from moving much. 

His warmth is making it really hard to want to get away. Even more than with Shouta earlier. 

Shouta takes off everything but his boxers and gets into the bed as well. My face feels like it’s on fire. He quickly shuffles to be on top of me and puts a hand on my mouth before I could scream at them to let me go. 

“Shhh, you don’t want to wake Eri now, right?” 

Hizashi nuzzles his head into my neck. His small facial hair slightly tickling, 

A strong part of me says it doesn’t matter. That she wouldn’t do anything. Another part of me hopes if I did yell, she’d see and be upset by them or even me ruining their parent’s time together. With the hand covering my mouth though, it’s impossible. 

Tired… their warmth makes me so tired. My body too quickly stops struggling. It gives Shouta the time to also have an arm wrap around my body. The other staying close to my mouth to make sure I don’t wake Eri though.

“That’s it, dear Lovesong. We won’t let you get taken again. See your lovely face in the morning.”

This makes me decide I’m going to resign. I’m done. 

[the-moonlightwitch-official]

NO PLACE LIKE HOME pt:4

WARNING: 18+ minors dni, murder, stalking, creepy, kidnapping, 

NOT PROOF READ. 

i put my moonlightussy into this 

“ i dont want to go to U.A anymore” you said shuffling your food around your plate with a fork. “What? You love U.A” your mom said in shock. “And stop playing with your food. I worked hard to make this meal and also worked hard to get you into U.A” 

You looked up at the clock on the wall only to see that it was only 6:30 p.m. The day seriously just wasn’t ending quick enough. More silence filled the air, other than the sound of your mothers fork scraping the plate as she ate. So many emotions went through you as you remembered your experience at school today and the experiences everyday since you found out that three of your teachers are bound to you. 

You rolled your eyes and slowly pushed your plate away. “It’s not enjoyable anymore mom. They prohibit me most of the time from hero training, and give me unnecessary detention. They are narcissistic, obsessive, possessive-” “STOP THAT” your mom cut in. “that is certainly not true. Your grades are amazing and you are getting detention because you are skipping classes!” 

You stood up and walked away from the table. “That was one time!” she finished her last bit of food before collecting both of the plates and heading towards the kitchen to put them in the sink. “It doesnt matter y/n. You should continue to be in U.A. I am not taking you out. END OF STORY!” 

You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping away and going to your room. You flopped on the bed and looked at your phone only to see almost 50 messages from the trio. You threw your phone as hard as you could and watched it bounce off the wall and bust into pieces. Closing your eyes and rolling over, you went to sleep. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

You groggily wiped your eyes and yawned. You slammed your hand on the stop button of the alarm next to your bed and you reached over to grab your phone only not to see where it would usually be in the mornings. Looking over, you remember what you did to it last night before going to sleep. You got ready for school and left the broken phone on the ground and left the house making sure to avoid your mother. 

Arriving at U.A was depressing. Mostly just pep talking yourself into just accepting that this is your new life. Upon entering the building you happened to run into All might. “Oh! Hey ms. y/n” you looked up at him and shrugged. “You didn't see my messages, is everything ok? You shrugged and began walking away. “My phone broke last night.” All might turned to you and a light bulb lit up in his head. “I could get you a new one.” you rolled your eyes and continued walking. “Im good” He ignored the other students trying to get his attention and jogged up to you. “Please, I'm sure you need a phone and it will be no cost to you.” He feels excited because this is finally his time to provide for you. 

“Whatever.” you said as you waved him off and walked to your homeroom. 

“Shota looked up at you from his laptop as he seen you coming in. “hello there darling.” he frowned on the inside when he wasnt met with any response. “You know i texted you yesterday. The least my baby can do is respond.” you looked up in annoyance while unpacking your things for the day. “My phone broke last night.” shota leaned back in his chair and responded quickly “I can get you a new one baby.” you rolled your eyes. “Dont you need to save up money and provide for your husband?” Shota scoffed playfully at your response. 

 “Sweetheart its fine, i have more than enough money to get you the newest phone that just came out. Besides, it’s my job to provide for you.” 

Hizashi came waltzing in after shota said that and joined the convo while walking towards you and doing playful finger guns. “Whats up my babies?” He kissed you on the temple and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “y/n broke her phone so i opted to get her a new one, she’s declining.” Hizashi looked at you and gasped. “Your phone broke? No wonder you didn't respond to us last night. You should let us get you a new phone babes. It's our job to provide for ya. Ya dig?” 

“All might already offered to get a new phone for me.” the couple visibly frowned. Hizashi looked up at shota and cringed in irritation upon hearing the news. Shota waved a hand at him dismissing his anger as a silent way to tell him to calm down. “Let him get the phone.” 

After class and all the students left, shouta kissed you on the lips and was surprised that you kissed back. shota looked at your form walking away in awe. Hizashi came walking in and seen shota all giddy and smiley. “Whats got you all sunshine and rainbows?” shota looked at his husband and smiled. “She kissed me back.” hizashi looked shocked and nodded. “Thats great babe.” 

Shota smiled to himself and spoke. “Look zashi, i know you dont like toshinori right now and it’s understandable. But just let him try, ok?” hizashi nodded and understood. After saying that toshinori came in looking for y/n. “Hey what’s up?” hizashi said trying not to sound awkward. “Nothing much just looking for y/n, i got her a new phone.” shota looked shocked. “That quick?” toshinori shrugged. “Yeah i guess. I dont have a tight schedule today and i won’t be busy until 3pm, so i have a lot of free time.” shota looked at the phone toshi was holding. “Let me see.” toshi handed it over. It was the newest phone model that came out this year. “Let me make some changes to it first before we give it to her.” shota said walking towards his desk with it. 

“Like what?” toshinori asked. “Just some spyware and secret controls so we can see what she’s doing and who she’s talking to. You know. For safety.” Toshinori nodded and agreed. “Good idea.” shota took out the phone and turned it one and started setting it up. “Dont worry, i’ll give it to her at the end of the day, knowing that you have a tight schedule and all towards dismissal.” toshinori smiled. “Ok thank you so much” and walked away. 

The bell rang loudly for dismissal and all of the kids got up and shuffled out, like they’ve never seen daylight before. Finally school is over for the day. you sighed in relief. You have spent all day low-key dodging the soulmates. After packing your things and getting up you raced out of the class and blended in with the crowd, Only poking your head up above the sea of kids to see if one of your soulmates (old enough to be your father) were around. 

You were walking like a speed demon and spent too long staring back above the crowd to notice anyone in front of you. Turning your head to finally face forward, only to yelp in surprise when you face plant into a chest that feels like a sturdy brick wall. You slowly pulled your head away from the chest. The more you pulled back the more of the color black you saw. Immediately knowing who it was and sighed in irritation. 

“L/N” you looked up to see Shota Aizawa. His raven hair floating in the air and his eyes a bright crimson red. Irritation painted all over his face. He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the crowd and aside into his classroom. Closing the door and locking it in the process. 

“I called you over a million times.” he said, turning to face you. He couldn't help but feel butterflies in his stomach. He’s so in love with you. 

You noticed him masking his nervousness with irritation. He approached you with a new phone and handed it to you. You looked down in surprise and cautiously grabbed the box. 

 “I told you all might would give me one.” Shota let out a sigh. “ call him toshinori outside of class and he did, I'm just handing it to you because he has a tight schedule.” You opened the box and took a look at the phone. “It's already set up?” Shota was heading towards his desk to sit down. “Yep, your welcome.” he mumbled while shuffling papers around his desk. “thanks i guess.”  you said shyly while putting it in your backpack. You wanted nothing more than to get away. 

As you were heading towards the door, shota spoke up. “Hey, why dont you help me grade papers?” you didnt turn to look at him as you spoke. “I have loads of homework to do, sorry” he stood up and walked to the side of his desk and pulled out a chair that belonged to your desk. You fucking hated that he moved your desk so close to him that its literally on the side of his desk. “You can do it here, i’ll even help you, sweety” you huffed in defeat and headed to sit down. He smiled and kissed your temple as you sat down. 

You played with your thumbs as you watched him sit down and start grading papers and type away at his computer. He looked down at you. “Well are you gonna get started?” you snapped out of it and got out your homework and started on it. After an hour, hizashi came knocking on the door and shota got up and walked towards the door unlocking it. You heard them speaking quietly to each other as you did your homework. You were paying close attention to your homework and trying not to look away, only to notice a tall figure wearing tight black leather pants, jacket, and boots come into view and coming closer. The sound of chains clanking on his suit every time he took a step. 

You flinched when the sound of a chair being pulled across the floor happened suddenly. The screeching sound only gets closer. In your peripheral vision you see hizashi pull up a chair and sit next to you. He’s sitting so close to you, its almost like your both sitting in the same chair. He leans over and you watch as green orbs peer through his glasses as he looks at what you're working on. The smell of his cologne is strong and intoxicating. You hate him, but fuck he smelled good. Little did you know, he wore it just for you. He ditched the original scent that he normally wore when he met you and started looking into the more expensive stuff, to really get you going. You hate to admit that it fucking works. You were too zoned out to realize that shota and zashi were speaking to you. You couldn’t help but drop your head down and sniff him. 

“This is some stuff that i can help you with, songbird, that Letter should go there and this letter should go he-woah” zashi froze as you buried your face in his neck and took long inhales while gripping his bicep. Shota and hizashi locked eyes. Hizashi’s face was full of confusion and excitement. Same for shota. You wrapped your arms around Hizashi and buried your face further into his neck. The feeling of his warm skin calmed your every nerves. But this makes no sense. You shouldn’t like him. Hizashi realized that you were trying to bring him closer, so he picked you up out of his chair and held you in his chair. 

Shota smiled as you clung to his husband like a koala. It’s amazing that he took off his speaker and let his hair down. His long blond hair falling over his shoulders. He looked fine as fuck with his hair down. His gloved hands rubbed your back soothingly. You didn’t realize that you started crying. He held your head and rubbed your back. “Shhh, its ok songbird, its ok” 

The war inside your head was loud. Both sides clashed. ‘I love him, I HATE HIM’ 

You started beating his chest and he grabbed your wrist and held you tighter. 

After you calmed down he held you for awhile more. “We should head out, yeah?” Aizawa said softly while organizing his papers and getting his things together. His husband nodded while grabbing your things and putting them in your bag while his other hand held you. You got up off of his lap and avoided eye contact and grabbed your things. “We’ll take you home sweetheart” aizawa insisted while he grabbed your hand. They both held your hands and walked through the halls of U.A. they were free to do that now, since no one was here to see it. 

‘I wanna leave, i wanna leave’ 

Walking past the windows, you noticed that the sun was setting. Your mother must be worried sick. Exiting the building hizashi got a call and he slung his bag over his shoulder like a purse and used his now free hand to answer the call. You could hear your mothers voice on the other end. “Oh! Shes with me ma’am. She stayed after class for tutoring, I'm dropping her off at home.” you could hear the sound of relief in your mothers voice. And her thanking god. He said his good bye’s and ended the call. 

Once you all approached the vehicle they let go of your hands. Shota went to the drivers seat and hizashi opened the backset door for you and guided you in. He grabbed shota’s and his bags and put them beside you in the backseat and closed the door. The outside of the car was a nice gray and the seats were soft. Shota started the car and the car started moving. You couldn’t help but look at shota’s forearms as he rolled up his hero suit sleeves and gripped the steering wheel. The muscles of his forearms were hypnotizing. You jumped in surprised when you seen his eyes on you in the rearview mirror. You didn't notice him smirk as he turned his attention back to the road. You looked over at the black bags that they take to work with them and noticed a phone sticking out of Shota’s bag lighting up. You got nosy and looked over to see that his phone was unlocked and open. He must have forgotten to shut it off. There was an app open and there was a nice, huge, and charming house on the screen, But it seemed to be far from the city. 

They must be looking to move. WONDERFUL. 

“Sweetheart, you being nosy?” You froze and looked up only to see Shota looking at you from the rearview. “N-no.” He smirked. “We’re going to move” he said with a touch of excitement and nervousness in his voice as he stared ahead, only to peak at you every once in awhile to study your expression. Before he could continue, hizashi added in. “It's gonna be great! A nice, huge, breathtaking house, away from the loud city! You're gonna love it!” He yelled in excitement while waving his hands around. He froze when his husband glared at him. Uh oh, the cats out of the bag. “What do you mean I’m going to like it?” 

Shota sighed and just told you the truth, might as well. No one would believe you if you said anything anyways. ”Toshinori, zashi, and I are getting married and moving out to a nice house away from the city with you, and eventually adding you to the marriage as well.” You zoned out with panic. The seatbelt felt tighter than usual. You let down the window for air, but it wasn't helping. The car ride seemed longer.  “Its ok songbird” hizashi reached a reassuring hand back to rest on your leg. “Sho maybe we should stop to let her get some air.” 

“We’re almost there zashi.” Once they stopped at your address, You raced out of the car and into your house. They didnt even get to say goodbye first. You raced up to your room, completely dodging your mom, and used your new phone to call izuku and freak out. Little did you know that the two men got out of the car and were invited in by your mother. Izuku picked up your call worried and you vented to him. He was just as worried as you. Mid freak out, you heard talking inside your house. You set the phone down and left your room to peek into the living room, only to find hizashi and shota sitting at the dining room table, talking to your mother as she made them tea.

Your heart jumped to your throat and you tried to sneak back to your room. “y/n?” shouta called out. “ I have to go to the bathroom!” you called racing back to your bedroom before they can call you to come hang out.

“Hello? Hello? y/n?“ the faint voice of Izuku called out on the other end of the phone from across the room where you left it.  You picked up the phone “You have to get me out of here.” 

“y/n? y/n?” your mother knocked on your door after checking the bathroom. She rattled the doorknob only to see that it was locked. After another 5 minutes of trying to talk to you, she went and got a spare key to open your door. She opened the door and saw that you weren't there. “Y/N??” your stuff was gone and your window was wide open. “Everything alright?” Shouta asked peeking his head in your room, only to see that you were gone. He put the pieces together and noticed that you ran away. “Why would she run away?” your mother was freaking out in tears and picking up her phone to call everyone she knows to make sure they keep an eye out. “Ma’am im sure she’ll return…maybe she went for a walk?” hizashi added in unsure. 

“With her stuff?” shouta glared at his husband. “It’s not safe out there!” your mother said in pure panic. “We’ll go look for her ma’am” hizashi said in reassurance. 

Izuku and you were racing down the interstate. Your in the passenger seat freaking out and trying to breathe. “It’s ok, just breathe.” izuku said rolling down your window a smidge. He’s the only one that believes you. This feels like a movie. You and a boy packing your things and running away together. You cant say that you never noticed that Izuku had feelings for you. He looked at you with a face of reassurance and smiled at you. Your heart warmed. Finally arriving at the airport you both grabbed your stuff from out of the car and went in. Thank god izuku had an app that allowed him to book flights quickly. Real life saver. 

You both boarded the plane quickly. The trip was so anxiety-inducing. When you both arrived there, Izuku booked you both a hotel room. You unlocked the door and threw yourself onto the bed and screamed into a pillow. “Hey, hey its alright.” Izuku rubbed your back. “Your safe now.” You took some deep breathes and looked out of the window and noticed that it was dark out. “What time is it?” You questioned izuku. He looked at his phone and answered. “9:37 pm” 

You thought about your mother and started panicking. “It’s ok, we’re here now.” he reassured you. You nodded in agreement and laid down and tried to get some rest. Izuku turned off the lights and watched some television. Turning to your side you could see the light of the tv on the walls. There was only one bed, so He was on the other side of you. After closing your eyes and breathing to calm your nerves, you finally went to sleep. 

Little did you know that shota and Hizashi knew exactly where you were. 

“Hey, time to wake up.” Izuku light shook you awake. You sat up and rubbed you eyes. “You hairs a mess.” he giggled. “What time is it?” he looked at his phone. “12:46 pm, we slept in pretty good.” you nodded. “Im going to head downstairs to get us some coffee’s, ok?” you nodded and he headed out. 

It’s officially been 24 hours and the heroes can finally take your missing persons case. Shota volunteered to take your case and Toshinori was assigned to help him. Perfect. Hizashi stayed behind to purchase the house and get everything set up. They werent ready to purchase the house or get married yet. But you left and they panicked. They cant have you run away like that. You’ll be safe with them. 

While you were gone they got the ball rolling. They took all of their savings and put it towards the marriage and house. Toshinori now sports an engagement ring on his finger. He was just as worried for your safety as the others were.  He thanked the gods that he was assigned to your case. 

Shota and toshinori walked into the office so they can be given instructions on the case. Toshinori was in his all might form and had an intimidating look on his face. Pure anger and worry. But tried his best to mask it with a smile. There was a killer on the loose and hasn’t been caught yet. Those kids are normally kidnapped and found in america. Shota brought that up and made a good point. They agreed and Shota and toshinori were assigned to take the case to america first, which is great because thats exactly where you were. After being given the instructions, they both boarded a private jet that was given to them and headed towards america. Shota and toshinori constantly checking your location. They thanked the gods together that with the jet, they would reach you within a couple of hours.  

You sipped your coffee that izuku gave you and thanked him. After your cup of coffee you sighed. “So what now?” izuku looked at you and shrugged “i dont know, maybe we can go out and explore.” you shook your head, too afraid to go outside. “Nah. I think i wanna stay in here just for today.” he nodded in understanding and turned on the tv and handed you the remote. 

You spent the next 6 minutes looking for a channel but nothing was really peaking your interest. 

You both spent a good couple of hours watching tv, until you got board and looked over to the window to see two men approaching the building. Your heart raced. They look like shota and the skinny toshinori. You closed your eyes and breathed to calm yourself down. 

“It’s not them, it’s not them, i’ts not them.” you whispered to yourself. Izuku looked at you confused. Before he could speak, a knock at the door erupted through the room. They weren’t nice knocks, very impatient, angry knocks. 

Your panic rose and izuku put a hand on your shoulder and shushed your panic. He got up and opened the door, only for shota to push him out of the way and walk in. They were both delusional. They thought you were kidnapped, and non of this is your fault, You’d never run away from them right? 

You jumped out of bed and to the corner of the room in shock, only to watch a huge, tall, hulking figure, that you know too well, bow his head down to fit through the doorway, walking in behind shota. He must’ve turned into his all might form in the hall before entering the room. Anger and worry clear as day on his face. Shota was dealing with Izuku on the other side of the room, getting really close to his face and gripping his shirt, Whispering profanities and threats in his ear. It’s hard to hear from the corner of the room.

Your attention snapped to toshinori when he spoke to you.  “y/n pack your things.” you shook your head and all might sighed began packing them for you. “I know your scared, but do not worry, Because I AM HERE.” He zipped your bag closed and approached you slowly. He doesnt think for a second that your scared of him. He believes that your scared of izuku. His hulking figure crouched down to come face to face with you. The hand not holding your bag, comes up to brush the hair out of your face and wipe your tears. He whispers calmly to you “it’s all ok now, i am here.” he rubs your arm and shushes your cries. “It’s ok y/n, im taking you home now, where you’ll be safe, sweet pea.” 

Toshinori looks over to shota who is busy with izuku. “Sho” toshinori calls out to catch his attention. Shota looks over, and the pair nods at each other. They must have a plan of some sort. Toshinori grabs your hand and begins to guide you out of the room. You're hesitant and try to stand your ground. He looks at you reassuringly. “It’s ok now, you're safe with me, shota is taking care of him.” he really believes that you're scared of izuku hurting you if you leave. Shota notices and comes over to you and kisses your forehead, and plucks a hair from your head. “Go baby” he whispers to you calmly. You're still hesitant. They think you're too scared to move. Toshinori takes his free arm and swoops down, and in one swift move you’re on Toshinori’s hip like a baby. He holds your tight and begins to walk out of the door. 

Tears fill your eyes as you look back and see shota staring at you lovingly, as izuku is behind him on the ground. Closing your eyes and breathing  you look forward and watch as your carried out of the building with a strong securing arm around you. Confusion fills you as toshinori walks behind the building quickly and puts you back on your feet. He looks at you before speaking. “Can i trust you to stay by my side? I’m turning to weak form” you look at him and barely above a whisper you ask “why?” he looks at you after poofing to his weak form. Smoke fills the air around you both as he coughs and grabs your hand and begins walking. “Because im not fucking around right now, I dont need attention on us when im in my All Might form.” he grumbles. Bony fingers gripping tighter around your hand as he guides you to the car that drove both him and shota there. You look up to his bony face and see that theres a dead serious look on his face. Theres no point in running. Even in his small form he could easily catch you. Dont mistake his skinny arms for being weak and frail. They may be twigs but they can still break every bone in your body on a power level people could never comprehend. He only calls it his “weak” form because it has a slightly lower power level than his bigger form. 

As you both approach the black car, a man steps out of it. A professional looking man, wearing an expensive suit. He approaches the both of you and rounds the car, opening the car door for you both. Toshinori nods a ‘thank you’ and the man nods back, while taking your bag from toshinori’s hands and letting toshinori get in beside you, shutting the car door. You watch in the rearview mirror from the backseat as the man rounds the car again and opens the trunk and puts your belongings in there. The car bounces a little from the loud ‘thunk’ of the trunk being closed. The man walks past your window and opens his door and gets in. He looks in the rearview mirror and looks at toshinori. “Where to sir?” toshinori squeezes your hand reassuringly and speaks. “Back to the airport.” the man nods and follows instructions, starting the car and beginning the journey there. 

The car ride was silent, except for the occasional coughing fit toshinori has. His hand resting on your thigh, lightly squeezing here and there. He notices your anxiety and he turns on the tv screen that was back there. Its a high end car. “Here, watch something.” he says to you. You turn your attention to the tv screen and watch whats on it. Occasionally changing the channel until it landed on a animal documentary. You watched as the baby cats were shown on the screen. It did little to ease your nerves, but at least it did something. “We’re here” toshnori said as the car parked at the airport. The driver rounded the car and opened your doors. When you exited your side, toshinori quickly rounded the car and grabbed your hand so you wouldn’t run away. He grabbed the bag that the driver handed to him and thanked him while turning into his all might form. In another swift move, you were once again on toshinoris hip. He then jumped high into the sky until he reached the destination of the airport he wanted. It was terrifying being so high. You couldn't help but hold on tight and scream. He shushed you gently as you both landed. You were at the privet jet that was assigned to both toshinori and shota. He turned to his small form and boarded it with you. The journey felt like it lasted forever. He offered drinks and occasional board games to play. You ignored him. He lets it slide, thinking that you're still processing everything that happened when you were “kidnapped” by izuku. You look out of the window when he reaches across the small table you both were sitting at and intertwined his fingers with yours. Occasionally rubbing his thumb on your hand lovingly. You cringed as your finger could feel the ring on his finger. The ring that shota and hizashi placed there. 

Finally landing in japan and going for another agonizing car ride to the new house. Constantly rejecting toshi’s offers for snacks and drinks when you make break stops. Toshinori is very persistent unfortunately. Setting aside the water he gave you and closing your eyes, you sighed. “Should drink that, its good for you” He mumbled as he took a sip of his own. Ignoring him, you  fell asleep and were woken up an hour later by huge gates opening for the car you and toshi were in after the driver put his ID in and was approved. There were vibrant, tall, green trees for miles. Your attention flew to what was behind the miles of trees, A tall brick wall, surrounding the property. The place was huge. The driveway was at least 5 minutes long before reaching the house itself. The front yard was practically a field. A Huge garden in the front yard, along the house. The house was big enough that it looked like it should have an elevator inside. 

Hizashi came out onto the porch excited. Uhauls were everywhere and men were carrying things into the house. You took some deep breaths as you got closer to the house. The driver parked outside and opened your doors. Hizashi was ecstatic as he approached the car, watching you step out. You looked across the car to see that toshi was stretching with his arms in the air, and then taking your bag from the drivers hands with a ‘thank you’. 

Hizashi and the driver nodded to each other in thanks and the driver got back in and drove off. 

“My baby!” hizashi squealed while trapping you in a tight, suffocating embrace. He grabbed your shoulders and looked you over with a smile. You also took the time to look at him. He was wearing casual clothes for once. His hair in a loose bun and wearing casual glasses. He wore a white and gray flannel shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, with a tight, white shirt underneath that illuminated his abs pretty well, and Light gray jeans, with a casual black belt, and black boots. You also took the time to notice that he had little earrings. You looked at his forearm and noticed that he had a tattoo for shota on it. It said “Shota” on it with a symbol under it that looked like his hero scarf. 

“Lets bring ya in yeah?” he said happily as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided you up the porch steps and into the house. You looked back and seen expensive cars sitting in the huge driveway, at least 4 of them. You weren't surprised to see a whole team of people there decorating and setting up the house. Hizashi paid them well and also paid them to keep their mouths shut about you. He guided you to the huge kitchen. 

“Want something?” he asked as he opened the very expensive fridge and bent over inspecting the inside of it. He looked back at you and frowned when you shook your head. He shrugged and grabbed sparkling water and handed it to you anyway. You grabbed it hesitantly. “Why?” you asked. They looked at each other before answering. “Isn’t it obvious? Your safe with us” hizashi said like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. “I want to go home.” toshinori sighed at your response and added in. “your already home. Your going to be here with Hizashi, Shota, and I” he said rubbing your back. “No, no, no, no what about my life? What about school? What about my mother?” you asked frantically while stepping back away from them. Hizashi rounded the counter and followed you.

 “Hey hey hey hey, it’s ok. No need to freak yourself out there songbird, you're safe here. No need to stress yourself out in the real world anymore. No more arguments with your mom, no more in person school. You’ll do online school if you want to do that, no having to work because we will happily provide for you, and there are many rooms here for your hobbies. You have everything you could ever want here!” he said with his arms in the air and happiness on his face. 

He visibly frowned along with fiance, toshi when tears welled in your eyes. Something snapped in you and you threw your sparkling water at hizashi’s face. He stumbled back a bit and toshinori stepped in front of him in a protecting manner. “Now, y/n that was very rude. You shouldn’t hit your boyfriend like that. Keep that up and we will have no choice but to restrain you.” He looked at you very seriously. Rage surged through your system. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the pair. 

“Toshi it’s fine” hizashi mumbled while getting out from behind him and making his way towards you with his hands up in front of him like he's calling a truce.“Sweety pie, it's ok. Please don't do that again. We’re trying to help you.” he says calmly like talking to a ferocious animal. While toshinori picks up the sparkling water and sets it back on the counter. “Fuck you” you snarl at them. “That language will not be tolerated here. Apologize right now!” toshinori said to you with a booming volume. Making you jump a little. You took your shot and swung at hizashi. You honestly should have expected to lose. He’s a pro hero after all. He dodged it and grabbed your arm, twisting your body in the process until your back is against his chest with both of your wrists trapped in his strong hands. “GOD DAMN IT Y/N, PLEASE!” hizashi growled in irritation. 

That didn’t stop you. Your arms and torso may have been immobile in the moment but your legs and feet weren’t. You jumped in his arms and kicked his legs behind you. “FUCK” he let go of you and stumbled back while grabbing his calves. You took the opportunity while he wasn’t looking and punched him. Before you could turn the other direction to run. Two Huge arms caught you and body slammed you. Your head hitting the floor quite hard. Your whole body immoble. Looking up you see a very angry all might seething with anger. In the background you hear hizashi ranting angrily while the sound of kitchen cabinets and drawers are opened violently and slammed shut. He's looking for something. “I really didnt want to this. But you pushed your fucking luck” He seethed angrly while limping around the kitchen and destroying cabinets to find what he was looking for. “GOD DAMN IT, WHERE THE FUCK DID THE STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS PUT IT!?” he yelled while violently slamming a cabinet door closed. Referring to the people setting up the house. All might continued to stare coldly into your frantic eyes. You couldn’t see anything besides him. His huge body caging you between him and the floor. You couldn’t see anything behind him, you could only hear and it doesn't sound good. You’ve never heard hizashi so angry and heartbroken. He continued speaking. 

“Your lucky Shota isnt here right now. Your lucky beyond a level you could never comprehend. Your ass would have been done for.” He seethed. He sighed in relief when he found the cabinet with the medicine in it. You heard him grab a bottle of pills and open it. 

“I didn’t want to do this, I really fucking didnt. I wanted you to get used to the house and everything. But no YOU just had to make this a big fucking thing. You're seriously lucky that Sho  isn’t here right now. I honestly should have just listened to him when he told me to lock your ass up in chains in the basement the second you step foot in here.” He mumbled in pure anger. The sound of pills falling out of the container and into his palm can be heard before he closes the pill bottle and slams it on the counter, walking towards your trapped form. 

“You got her toshi?” he asked while squatting down. “Mhm” toshi said while forcing you to sit up and wrapping an arm around your torso and the other around your shoulder with a hand holding a iron clasp grip on your jaw forcing it open. Hizashi cupped his hand over your open mouth, popping the pills into your mouth. Toshinori forces your mouth closed and tilts your head up, while hizashi starts massaging your throat forcing you to swallow the pills. After you swallowed them he put your head back down and continued to hold you. You watched as Hizashi stared at you angrily. His gaze softened after a minute. “I know baby, I know. Things will get better.” he said as he pet the side of your head, moving the sweaty hair out of your face. He smiled gently at you as your world began spinning and fading. Toshi hummed as the back of your head rested against his chest and your body began to grow limp. He held you tightly until you blacked out. 

Meanwhile Shota sits in the chair in the corner of the hotel room with his fingers intertwined. Thinking, and brainstorming. Izuku is long gone. Shota had him sent back to japan with a friend of his. The friend came and did Shota a favor. He cloned you with the hair that Shota plucked from your head while he was kissing you goodbye. Your clone's body is dead on the floor. Shota tries not to look at it. It hurts him too much, it’s like looking at your actual dead body. He couldn’t handle seeing his babygirl dead. 

He zones out and stares at the tv as it plays. His attention is snapped to his phone as it rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees that it’s his boss. “Hello?” he mumbled into the phone. “Aizawa, how are things going?” his boss asked. “Uh things are going ok. All Might and I found them. Izuku is still alive and was sent back to japan to the investigative team and y/n’s body was found in a hotel room. The team are on the way.” aizawa said to his boss. 

“What do you think happened Aizawa?” his boss asked, intrigued. “I dont know. It seems like the killer struck again. She’s dead the same way all the others died.” shota said, deciding to go easy on Izuku and not blame it on him. “Ok, well thank you for letting me know Aizawa, do you need a ride back here?” “yes.” “ok i'm sending a jet your way.” “thank you” “no problem.”

With that Shota hung up. “Jesus it's already 6 a.m. I must’ve stayed up all night zoning out.” 

“I'm free, I'm finally free” you sighed as you ran away from the house. The crisp cool air hitting your face as you run. The speed you were running caused your hair to lift into the air as you ran for your life. The smell and taste of pure freedom. ‘Wait? Whats happening?’ you thought as your running slowed like molasses  and the world began fading into nothingness. You looked around as everything faded into the abyss. Your body is then lifted into the air and thrown all the way back into the house.

You jolted awake. The light of the sun peaking through the open curtains and hitting your face in a blinding way. “Good morning sweet pea” you looked over and seen toshinori sitting on the couch looking over documents. You were sitting in the corner of the living room next to the staircase. You shuffled and tried to get up but your legs and back hurt from being body slammed yesterday. You looked down when you heard a clunk. Chains. Your ankles were in chains that were wrapped and locked securely around a small pillar near the staircase. Fuck. 

The smell of food filled the air. It smelled amazing. You looked to your right and could see into the kitchen. Hizashi was in a tight pair of pink boxers and was shirtless, wearing a white apron. His jumped back a bit when he got popped with whatever was frying. He looked over and seen you awake. “Songbird im glad your awake, how was your sleep? Shota should be back very soon, just got off the phone with him.” he said with glee. You groaned and slouched back against the wall. “Foods almost done.” he called out. He put a lid over the pot and walked over to you and crouching down.

“Sorry about this.” he whispered to you while pointing to the chains around your ankle. “It has to be done. Maybe when your being a good girl, we’ll let you out, ya dig?” he smiled at you. He stood up and went back to the kitchen. About 5 minutes later he came out with food. 

Toshi pecked him on the lips for a thank you and begun to eat. “Wish you could eat at the table with us babe.” hizashi said was he put a tray of breakfast in front of you. The tray has a bowl of rice, miso soup, boiled veggies, kimchi, and some fried salmon. Fuck it smelled amazing. You were too hungry to deny it. You began eating and almost died from how good it was. Even though you werent at the table. The pair still tried to hold a conversation like you were. “Is it good baby?” hizashi asked as he noticed you drooling over the food. You felt heat rush to your face as you avoided eye contact and continued to eat. He shoveled food into his mouth as he spoke. “ I kinda overdid the dosage of the pills. Sorry about that.” he said in between chews. 

All of your heads snapped over to the front door as the handle moved. “Sho must be home now” toshinori said as he took a mouthful of rice. The sounds of keys jingled on the other end and the door was pushed open. In came a very worn out Shota. He took off his scarf and put it on the coat rack. He kicked off his shoes and hugged hizashi who practically ran and thew himself at him. “Isnt it such a lovely home?” hizashi asked. Shota looked around and smiled. “Yeah it is” he looked over to you and walked over and crouched down. He rubbed the top of your head and pecked your lips. He sat down next to you and held you. The smell of sweat was very strong on him, making you wince. “Hey baby” He was staring into your eyes in adoration and appreciation after having to look at your clones dead body for hours. He was shaking lightly. He was nervous, you noticed. 

Toshinori cut in. “why dont you take a shower babe, the food will be waiting for you when you come back” shota stood back up and nodded in agreement and headed up stairs but not before shooting you a loving look and pecking you on the lips. 

Toshinori cleaned up everyones plates as they finished eating and turned the television up when something on the screen caught his attention. Shota came back downstairs freshly washed and in his boxers. He grabbed the plate of food that hizashi made for him. He ate like a man starved. 

His and everybody else’s attention snapped to the screen when toshinori turned on the news. 

“The case of the two missing children has been solved, with izuku midoriya being found alive, and the body of y/n being found on the ground of a hotel room in america. Thanks to the special help of All Might, Izuku made it back to japan safe and sound. unfortunately what happened to y/n’s body seems to look like the work of japan’s active serial killer. We are hoping to find them soon. That is all the information we have on this case so far. Thank you for listening.” 

Shota looked proud and hizashi and toshinori seemed relieved that  everyone believed what they said. You look down to the floor in confusion and fear. Everyone now believes im dead. What am i supposed to do now? 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

romantic aizawa and mic watching their darling please!!

Watching From Afar | Yandere EraserMic

They alternate stalking monitoring you in your daily life

With them being teachers and pros

It makes for many sleepless nights

Fighting the urge to sneak into your bed and cuddle up next to you

They rarely do it together

When they do, it's a special night

Anniversary, date night, holiday–you name it 

If they’re not planning to snatch you up they spend their time dreaming about it

When Aizawa watches you, he’s sly

Careful and precise he gets as close as he can without disturbing you

He also takes great note of your surroundings

That wall has a hole? That neighbor’s pushy? You’re running out of fruit?

He’s aware of it all and is more than willing to wait for you to be drunk asleep before sneaking in to solve these things

Not more than he needs to as much as he wants to

He’s your silent protector, he has to keep his cool

No matter how adorable you are drunkenly addressing him on his way out

Hizashi on the other hand isn’t as respectable or has that much control

He’s biting at his shirt as he watches you snuggle in your comforter without him

Or how you’re humming a song out loud and he can’t sing along with because he’s in your ceiling

Hizashi is not careful and he’s not overtly more sneak as he absolutely must be

He doesn’t want to just keep watching you

He wants to feel you, have you, taste you

He secretly hopes you catch him so that he can sweep you up and take you away

He knows his cat-loving husband would rather observe you than directly interfere 

But if he makes too much noise or if no one’s believing you about the eye you keep seeing in your ceiling 

Than maybe Shota would be willing to move on from just watching

[itsabouttimex2]

Erasermic:

With a student who has the same cloud Quirk that Oboro had.

This is a duo that goes yandere easier together than they do apart. When Yamada yells out “Why don’t we just take our Little Listener home with us?!”, it’s because he thinks Shota will shut him down with a “Be quiet, Mic. You’re being too loud.” Or a “That’s irrational, Mic. She has a life outside of UA.” Or maybe even a “Mic, shut the hell up.” Because Aizawa will definitely snap him out of those irrational thoughts and argue them bluntly into the ground.

But he doesn’t. There’s no shutdown, no shushing, no blank and disappointed stare. All he gets is a flat “Good idea.”

So they weave their little plan together, staying up late to grade papers while they talk about you.

“…she brought in a kitten today,” Aizawa murmurs, his voice low and miserable. You had been grinning ear to ear, promising to keep it quiet in class, promising to drop it off at a shelter when you got the chance. It had mewled a few times, but otherwise kept quiet and well-behaved in your arms. Aizawa had turned in early, letting everyone work on homework for other classes while he stuffed himself into his sleeping bag, fighting back old memories and what feel like bitter tears.

“I know. She brought it to mine, too. When she showed me, I saw-“

“So did I, Mic.” He cuts his partner off. He doesn’t need to hear his old friend’s name. He just can’t. He sees Oboro in you, in your Quirk, in your actions, in the very way you exist and live your life. It’s like finding the last piece of a puzzle, one he’d resigned to being lost. You fit right where Oboro did, and it’s breaking both of them down the longer they speak.

“She was all busted up from training, Sho. There was blood on her face, on her hands. I thought I was gonna start screaming. I don’t want her getting hurt, Sho! I DON’T WANT-“

“Hizashi!” A harsh glare silences the Voice Hero, cutting off his super-powered scream before it can do any damage. “Control yourself, Mic. We aren’t going to accomplish anything by crying or yelling.”

And then there’s a pause, where he reaches out to take his partner’s hand, squeezing it tight.

“I don’t want to lose her either.”

“What do we do, Sho? What CAN we do?” Pleading, begging, desperate. His tone is heartbreaking, and Aizawa has four words to put him at ease.

“We bring her home.”

[artemis32]

Subjugation II

Yandere Erasermic x reader

Well, here you go, part II as promised :))

I’m going to say this took so long because I’ve never written smut before (that’s true, but I also take months to get things done) but I’m so proud of the fact that I actually attempted to write a sex scene, yay me

Please read the trigger warnings below, they aren’t there for fun, and minors dni, go away

****

word count - 7.5k

tw: abuse (physical and emotional), isolation, hypothermia, noncon / dubcon, threesome, oral sex (both f and m receiving), blowjob, choking, biting, nipple play, creampie, cervix-fucking, threats and violence (against reader), power dynamics (reader is in her early twenties, Erasermic duo are in their mid to late thirties), age-gap relationship

****

Part I

bnha masterlist

****

****

Before your little “attempt at defiance”, you had watched the seasons change day by day through the windows scattered throughout the house. There were many, all of them large.

The two men you lived with weren’t exactly worried about you escaping, not when the three of you were the only hint of civilization for a few hundred kilometers. You could run, you could hide, but they were sure to find you before you managed to get very far.

And so, you found solace in watching as the months went by.

One thing you were grateful for, not that you’d ever admit it, is that the two men chose a gorgeous area for the isolated home. The lack of human interference meant that nature flourished all around you.

The thick canopy of trees that surrounded you often looked like something right out of a postcard.

During the warmer months, the thick expanse of trees and other plants cast a large shadow over the back garden. You spent many hours there, lazing about like a cat. It wasn’t as if there was much else to entertain you anyway. In autumn, many of the leaves fell and decorated the forest floor in varying shades of green and brown. It was beautiful.

And winter. Winter was the season you enjoyed the most.

Winter was when you were allowed to cuddle up under heaps of blankets before a crackling fireplace. Winter was when you constantly had a warm mug cradled in your hands.

You were allowed to keep to yourself - you could spend hours reading or napping, even watching television if it was dreary enough outside.

And your favourite part had to be the snow.

It piled up high most years, coming up past your knees, almost to your hips if you were lucky enough.

The cold air would prickle your lungs, making your skin tingle. But no matter how cold it was outside; you could always come back inside and warm up.

No matter what, you were allowed back into the relative warmth and safety the two men provided.

****

You were cold.

You’d lost the feeling in your hands and feet a while ago. Your face was numb too.

How long had it been? 

Hours? Days? Perhaps it had only been a few minutes.

You weren’t sure.

Time felt sluggish, like you were wading through honey. Even the movement surrounding you felt slow and dull. Each snowflake fell slowly, as if you were watching your surroundings change frame by frame.

You lay curled up in a tight ball, tucking your arms and legs into your belly in a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of warmth. 

The tree you were huddled up against was uncomfortable. Everything was uncomfortable. Bark cut into your back, and you were sure that if you were able to feel anything, you would feel the sting of dozens of splinters in your skin.

Even though a thick layer of snow coated the ground, you still felt the hard ground, covered with pebbles, digging into your butt. The snow beneath you had long since melted, drenching your clothing.

The once warm sweatpants and hoodie now clung to your skin. It made the cold worse, you were sure, but you couldn’t bring yourself to remove it. That would require movement, and the loss of what little warmth remained. It also likely meant that you’d lose whatever sense of pride you’d managed to cling to.

You’d stopped shivering a while ago. Now all you managed to focus on was staying awake. 

Falling asleep scared you. You worried you wouldn’t wake up if you did.

So, you sat there, curled up into yourself, scared and cold.

Waiting. For what, you weren’t sure.

****

When you’d first woken up after the two men had drugged your food, you were quiet, timid, trying your best to melt down into the bed beneath you. Stoking their anger would have made everything worse. 

That’s what you told yourself.

The anxiety made your head spin.

Shota was cruel - making you wait for them, wait for some sort of punishment without any indication of what would happen, he knew it made you sweat.

They’d scared you half to death when they realised you were awake, stripping you of your stolen sleep shorts and shirt.

You had thrashed and cried, almost resorting to begging them. Almost, but not quite.

Pride was a cruel thing.

Hizashi had been the one to quell your fears. He’d always had more empathy for you and your situation than Shota had.

“Calm down, we’re not going to touch you.”

You knew what he meant. You should have felt relieved, but terror had settled deep in your stomach like a boulder, especially with the unspoken words that buzzed between you.

We won’t touch you. Not yet.

You still felt sick.

They eventually managed to change you after a few minutes of quiet struggling on your part.

The sweatpants were grey and thick with a hoodie to match. It was comfortable, but the fact that they had seen you so exposed and vulnerable almost made tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. The embarrassment made your skin burn.

Hizashi had made you sit up, poking at your back harshly whenever you slouched. He spent nearly an hour patiently combing through your hair, gently massaging your scalp and shoulders.

It made you uncomfortable. It was far too intimate, too peaceful for you to relax.

Shota came in just as Hizashi finished with your hair, placing a loving peck on the crown of your head.

“Drink it.” A tall glass of what appeared to be water is shoved into your hands.

Your hesitance is clear on your face and Shota throws you a death glare.

“All of it.”

You give him a cautious glance, sniffing the contents of the glass before taking a small sip.

Just water.

Never mind the fact that it may have been drugged, just like the food you had so foolishly scarfed down. You didn’t care for the consequences, but more importantly, you didn’t want to anger the two men any more than you already had.

You drank it slowly, sipping in intervals, trying to buy yourself as much time as you could. The anticipation of waiting for the punishment you were certain you’d receive was agony. Honestly, making you wait so anxiously was probably part of your punishment.

It was so unfair.

What had you done to deserve this treatment?

You’d made your desire to leave abundantly clear, so it wasn’t as if your outburst was unexpected. In fact, you thought that they should be grateful you were behaving as well as you were. Of course, the occasional breakdown should be expected, they were insane if they thought otherwise - not that you’d ever tell them that.

Eventually, you couldn’t stall any further. Your glass was empty and there was nothing left to do but await their verdict. 

You felt like a common criminal, as if you committed some unspeakable crime.

Hizashi re-entered the room, making his way towards you. Each step felt like a weight dropped in your stomach, and his serious demeanour only added to your apprehension. Hizashi was hardly ever this serious.

“You done?” He asks, nodding towards the empty glass in your hands.

You nod silently, unable to speak.

“Okay, come on, up you get.”

He helps you off the bed before leading you towards the door, down the stairs, making a beeline straight for the back door.

The garden?

Confusion kicks in in that moment and you falter slightly.

“Hizashi? Where are we going?”

Your voice comes out softer than you’d like, almost cracking. You would berate yourself for sounding so scared, but your uncertainty throws you off.

He looks at you with a dull expression, almost no emotion in his gaze. He looks tired.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, just remember that. We warned you.”

With that, he grips your forearm and yanks you outside.

It’s freezing. 

In that moment, as he pulls and shoves you towards the large cluster of trees that act as the perimeter of the property, all you can think is that the two men must be crazy.

Not crazy from anger or lack of awareness. 

Downright crazy.

They have to be. You’d freeze to death out here, especially with the clothing you had on – sweats weren’t exactly snow gear.

He didn’t seem to care, shoving you down before grabbing at a leather rope that you hadn’t seen before, buried beneath the snow. The realisation of what he’s about to do sets in slowly, and by the time you think to react, it’s too late.

The thick leather is smooth around your ankle, the metal links clinking loudly as Hizashi locks it in place. He stands and gives you one last glance, sighing heavily before turning and making his way back to the house.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t look back.

You don’t call out to him. You only sit and stare at his retreating figure.

Even though the house was so far away, you were sure you heard the lock snap into place as Hizashi slammed the door.

****

Before you’d been taken in by the two men, you enjoyed your own company. Being comfortable alone was a skill you’d picked up pretty early on in life, and it had never been a problem.

That hadn’t changed when you started attending UA – making friends hadn’t been easy, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to try. You accepted that people weren’t drawn to you in the way that you may have hoped when you were younger.

It had grown easier over time, and consequently, you forgot how to cope when constantly surrounded by others. You didn’t even realise that it was a problem until you’d been forced to spend almost every moment of every day with the two men you grew to despise.

Your frustration and lack of patience for other people is probably what made their forced company feel ten times worse.

After months of what you deemed exposure therapy, you’d grown as used to their constant company as you could, although the ever-lingering sense of unease remained.

You thought things were going better – improving.

Evidently, you were wrong.

And you realise after being locked out for hours that you may have grown more dependent on the two men than you’d originally thought.

That realisation is worse than any other punishment either of them could ever try to inflict on you.

****

You had sat in the snow for a while, nearly forty minutes. All that time was spent wallowing in self-pity, misery settling over your mind like a blanket.

Most of that time had been spent in self-reflection.

Maybe I do deserve this. They wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t deserve it. Then again, they’re insane.

…

What have I done to deserve this? Lashed out? ‘Misbehaved’? Fuck, give me a break.

You dig you nails into your palms. Hard.

The pain of skin breaking is what draws you out of your thoughts. You feel disgusted with yourself – pathetic.

Blaming yourself for their decisions is something you actively tried to avoid. During all the time that you’d been with them, you had never, not once, blamed yourself for their words and actions.

The past few days must have affected you more than you’d realised.

In that moment, you felt trapped. You felt suffocated by Shota and Hizashi. Their words and actions, their ‘punishments’ and disgusting innuendos.

You felt panicked at the thought that you were losing pieces of yourself day by day – that one day, sooner rather than later, you’d break. That something inside of you would crack, something you wouldn’t be able to fix or come back from.

And so, you made a split-second decision – one you knew you would regret if you stopped to properly think it through.

It took roughly twenty minutes to loosen the leather leash around your ankle enough to rip it off. It hurt, bruising and cutting into the thin skin of your ankle. But it was off, and you were free to leave.

The moment the leash hit the ground, you were up and running. Running away from the house and into the dense forest behind you.

You didn’t stop to check if they’d noticed, or to cover up the tracks left in the snow. Your quirk would take care of that, thankfully – at least until you placed enough distance between yourself and your prison.

You didn’t look back – you just ran.

****

You had met Hizashi first.

He had been your homeroom teacher; someone meant to help and guide you through the years while you learnt what it meant to be a hero.

While you had been a somewhat withdrawn student, he seemed eager to get you out of your shell, encouraging you to participate in class and engage with your peers. When that ultimately failed, he took you under his wing.

You would often spend your lunch breaks in his classroom, listening to him ramble on in his usual overeager manner.

Being around him was easy – he filled the silence, talking on your behalf when you couldn’t muster the energy for a conversation. You also never seemed to tire in his presence as you did with so many other people, despite his extremely extraverted nature.

Halfway through your second year, you were introduced to Shota in passing.

You’d been in Hizashi’s classroom, keeping him company while he marked papers, as per his request.

He had been absentmindedly humming while you spoke about your plans for the weekend when Shota had walked in.

You had heard about the stealth hero Eraserhead many times, but you’d never had the opportunity to meet him in person before. He had looked tired, his hair hanging loose over his shoulders, posture slouched and slightly tense.

When he made eye contact with you, he seemed to look through you. His gaze had felt uncomfortable, as if he was dissecting you, picking you apart, peeling back layers to see what lay far beneath your skin.

The atmosphere in the room had changed then. While you weren’t aware of exactly why that was, you could sense that the two men seemed to know something you didn’t.

And so, you quietly introduced yourself before bidding both men a goodbye and leaving.

The time you spent with your homeroom teacher had dwindled down over the remaining year and a half of your studies. Though you’d never admit it, it was mainly because of how uncomfortable you’d felt that day.

Even after everything that had happened, after all those years, you still felt far more comfortable with Hizashi than with Shota. Something about him set your hair on end, made your nerves prickle with anxiety.

Perhaps you should have been equally scared of both them – after all, Hizashi was just as terrifying as Shota, sometimes more so.

But his familiarity often lulled you into a false sense of safety, his presence was so comforting, so amicable. That came with its own set of problems, it led to him being overly intrusive, and he became increasingly bold over the years, pushing the boundaries of what your relationship should have been.

Even after the two men had kidnapped you, Shota never held him back, never told him not to cross the line of becoming overly familiar with you.

You suppose it was Hizashi’s own good conscience that kept him from going too far.

That same conscience had been slipping, and you were fearful of the day that he decided he’d had enough of trying to keep you comfortable and at ease around them.

****

You’d long since lost sight of the house, now all that surrounded you was snow and trees. The forest around you was becoming increasingly dense as you ran.

By now, your clothing got snagged on a branch every few steps, and you constantly tripped over the thick tree roots pushing up the dirt beneath your feet. The sky had darkened significantly since you’d gotten away, and you realised you’d soon be stranded in the dark.

As much as that thought scared you, you refused to turn back. Whatever lay ahead was certainly better than what awaited you if you were to return now.

The snow had begun to pile up high, thickly cushioning the forest floor. It made walking more difficult, slowing you down.

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

You were sure that they had noticed you were gone by now, so the best course of action would be to get as far away as you possibly could. Your quirk, while well suited for covering your tracks, would only last so long, and the further away you were, the less control you had over it.

Besides, you’d gotten a good head start, so at least you’d have time to try and hide if they caught up to you.

Your thoughts are optimistic, even as the cold seeps through your clothing, even as night rolls in.

Still, your optimism can only get you so far.

The terrain is unfamiliar and your pace too fast. One ill-placed root, one misstep, that’s all it takes.

One moment you’re jogging along at a swift pace, trying to move quickly while still retaining energy. The next you’re off balance, tumbling down, down, down.

You’re stopped by a tree, your back slamming painfully into the thick trunk.

The cold is mocking, you can actually see the breath that has been knocked out of you.

You lay there, confused and dizzy. You taste blood.

Eventually, minutes or hours later, you come to your senses enough to realise that you should move, but by now the cold has seeped into your very bones.

How long have I been laying here? I should probably get up now, they might catch up soon.

…I’ll get up now, just let me rest for a few more minutes.

…Just five more minutes...

Your head pounds to an awful rhythm and your vision fades in and out.

Shivers wrack your crumpled frame and your hands, stiff from the cold, fumble around as you grab onto the tree trunk to pull yourself up.

You don’t get very far, slumping against the tree once you’re sitting upright. Getting up exhausted you more than it should have, and you feel drowsy, as if you’d been awake for days.

After some time has passed – how much, you aren’t sure – you slouch back. Your clothes are soaked through now, the snow having melted around your body.

You’re sure that if it had been warmer, you could have gotten up and left, but the cold that surrounds you sinks into you, holding you down.

Briefly, you think about the fact that you might die.

It’s entirely possible that they won’t find you before the cold snuffs out your life. That would probably be for the best. Shivers still wrack your body as you lay curled up next to the tree.

You display all of the typical symptoms for hypothermia, you’re aware of that much, and you know that it won’t be much longer before you lose consciousness.

This isn’t such a bad way to die. It’s peaceful at least, quiet. It’s nice. 

Too bad I’m in too much pain to really enjoy it.

Your thoughts trail off as you fade in and out of consciousness.

****

“Shota, punishment aside, she’s going to freeze to death out there if we don’t go and find her. I agree she’s taken it too far this time, but we can discuss that later. Grumbling about her running away doesn’t mean much if she’s dead.”

Aizawa glares at the blond.

He’s right. He knows he’s right.

But the anger he feels makes him shake.

They were prepared to end your punishment early, to bring you inside and be lenient with you. Hell, Hizashi had made soup and drawn a bath for you. Only you decided that now was the time to run away like a child instead of taking the punishment you deserved like an adult.

Suffice to say, Aizawa was livid.

He left to bring you inside and instead finds an empty, abandoned leash. He couldn’t even follow after you immediately because you were smart enough to cover your tracks.

They had never bothered with quirk cancelling cuffs because Shota was always around. And even if he wasn’t, your quirk couldn’t do much damage to either of them, at least not physically.

“Fine, we’ll discuss it later. But don’t get cold feet when it comes time to punish her. None of this would have happen if we’d squashed out this defiant streak when it first popped up.”

Hizashi sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a moment as he seems to contemplate something.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right – our threats have been empty, and she seems to think we won’t make good on our word. I guess there’s no going around it, we’ll have to do this the hard way then.”

With the agreement that they’d be punishing you more harshly than they’d previously planned, the two men set out on their way, rushing to find you before you got too far.

****

Shota panics when he finds you.

The two pro-heroes had been searching for a few hours. Initially, they’d been hurried in their search, believing that you couldn’t have gotten very far. After all, the area was unfamiliar, and you must have been freezing.

But as more time passed, they began to worry. Night was quickly approaching, and they were no closer to finding you now than they were hours earlier.

Hizashi curses himself for dressing you in such light colours. He hadn’t thought that you would run off though, and the fact that your clothing blended in with the surrounding snow wasn’t helping in the slightest as the two men silently searched for you.

Travelling quickly while also remaining as quiet as they possibly could was an added pain. But it was necessary – they couldn’t have you running off or hiding because they’d been too loud and obvious in their approach.

Their concerns of you hearing their approach and running off proved to be unnecessary, as Shota found you ten minutes later, laying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a hill.

Your breathing was shallow, barely appearing as small puffs in the cold air. If he couldn’t see your barely visible exhales, he might have thought you were dead.

Panic clenches at Shota’s throat as he rushes to your side, flipping you onto your back and placing his head on your chest, right above your heart. Your heartbeat, while faint, is still constant.

What worries him more than your weak heartbeat and unsteady breathing is the state of your body.

You’re covered in cuts and bruises, blood dotting at your ankle where the leash once sat. More concerning is your temperature – your lips and fingertips are blue, the blood has almost completely drained from your face, and you shiver slightly as he picks you up, cradling you in his arms.

“Zashi!”

He eventually finds his voice, calling the blond over.

When he appears, a noise of distress clogs up his throat.

“She has hypothermia, we have to get back to the house right now.”

And with that he stands with you in his arms and hurriedly begins making his way back to the house. He doesn’t bother looking back to make sure that Hizashi is following him.

Despite the fact that you’re unconscious and unable to hear him, and despite the panic and fear overwhelming his senses, Shota still reprimands you as he carries you back to the house, as if hoping the words get through to you even as you dream.

"It's high time we put you in your place. I've put it off for far too long and you seem to think I'm not serious about the threats and promises I’ve made. You're not getting away from this again. I could excuse you calling us names and fighting back, but putting yourself in danger so recklessly is something we have to punish properly. I’ll be the bad guy if that’s what it takes."

Perhaps he says it to calm himself, to convince himself that you’d be okay. The shake in his voice betrays him.

When they eventually reach the safety of the house, they make their way to the large bedroom, placing you gently onto the comfortable bed.

They say a prayer of thanks that you’re unconscious, it makes it easier to strip you of your drenched clothing and to slip your limp body beneath the linen covers.

Hizashi spends a long time caring for your injuries, softly running a warm, damp cloth over the nasty scratches and tears on your skin before applying ointment, gently massaging your ankle where the leather leash had cut into your skin. 

Your back is a nasty shade of blue, and even in unconsciousness, you flinch back as he brushes his fingers over the bruised skin.

Shota sits idly, leaving only to turn up the heating in the house, but beneath the surface and his cool façade, he feels impatience and worry boiling, rippling under his skin.

As eager as they were to properly teach you a lesson, finding you the way that they had had scared them both, more than they’d probably ever admit.

For now, they were content in taking care of you, the way that they always wanted to. Had you been conscious, you would hardly have recognised the two men, the care and love in their eyes and actions.

After they’ve cleaned you up, they strip and climb into the bed next to you, pressing themselves to you to try and warm you up, praying that you would be alright.

Hizashi cradles your hands in his own, running his calloused palms over your steadily warming fingers.

Slowly but surely, the two men manage to warm you up. Your breathing and heartrate return to normal and your face flushes with colour – you even start to sweat slightly from the sweltering heat trapped beneath the thick duvet. The relief makes both of them dizzy.

Shota and Hizashi wait patiently for you to wake up. They wait, watching the seconds turn to minutes, and the minutes turn to hours. They wait still cradling you between them, trying to maintain their angry façade from hours earlier.

****

You wake up sweating and stark naked.

The silence in the room is loud, so loud that it feels as if your ears are ringing. You feel confused, unable to remember what had happened or where you were. The overwhelming heat increases with each passing moment, and you’re sure you’ll pass out soon if you don’t cool down.

As if you’d projected your thoughts outward, the thick duvet you’re cocooned in is thrown off and your skin prickles from the sudden chill in the room, goosebumps rippling over your arms and legs.

It’s then that you notice the two men on either side of you.

Hizashi is behind you, his body curled against yours, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face tucked into the crook of your neck.

Shota is in front of you and your face rests on his chest. His arms are folded behind his head, his posture relaxed.

Both men are awake.

And naked.

You try to sit up, but Hizashi holds you in place, restraining you.

Rather than trying to fight against him, you curl into yourself.

Evidently, they wouldn’t let you have even that small semblance of comfort.

Shota pulls you up towards him, making you crane your neck to face him as he grabs the back of your neck harshly. His eyes flash red for a moment, threatening you.

“You’re in so much trouble.”

That’s all the warning they give you before you’re yanked forward, your lips meeting Shota’s in a forceful kiss.

Maybe kiss is the wrong word. It’s bruising, all teeth and tongue. There’s nothing passionate or loving about it. His fingers splay around the base of your skull as you try to pull away.

You’re so distracted by Shota’s ministrations that you barely notice as Hizashi moves downwards, shifting so that he lays between your now open legs.

What you do notice is the first gentle lap of his tongue against your cunt.

You jerk away from both of them in shock, tears forming on your waterline.

Pride be damned, you were ready to beg them, to plead with them. Anything but that. Anything.

They don’t give you a chance to protest, manhandling you back to the position you’d been in moments before.

Shota slams his lips against yours, his movements assertive and swift. You push against his chest until he gives you some space, barely a few millimetres between the two of you. The second you open your mouth to say something, he surges forward and shoves his tongue past your lips, into your mouth, and down your throat, or as far as he can manage.

Between your legs, Hizashi seems to lose the hold he’d managed to keep on his self-restraint for months.

His tongue works diligently, flattening against your cunt, making long, slow swipes from your slit to your sensitive clit and back. Your thighs tighten around his head, trying to shove him away.

It’s too much, too soon. 

There are so many questions buzzing around your head. You’re still so out of sorts. Waking up so abruptly and being shoved into such a confusing situation with no warning sends you into a panic.

I don’t want this, you want to say.

You manage to slip your hands down and tangle your fingers through his soft blond locks, yanking his mouth away from you. You receive a swift stinging slap to the thigh and Shota grasps your wrists in a harsh grip.

The delicate bones in your wrists groan and you shift in discomfort.

Hizashi’s rough palms smooth themselves up and down the soft expanse of your thighs. His touch feels almost loving.

The picture-perfect moment is ruined as he grasps your inner thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise.

A small whimper of pain slips out between your lips, swallowed up by Shota whose fingers move down your throat to fondle your breasts, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples. 

It makes you uncomfortable - they’re too casual with their touches, their presence is suffocating.

Shota is cruel, nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, which he promptly licks up before moving his attention downwards, towards your neck.

Soft kisses turn into harsh suckling and painful bites.

You try not to think about the bruises you’ll be faced with the following day.

Hizashi eats you like a man starved, suffocating himself between your legs.

You’re drenched now, slick and spit dripping from your cunt as he sucks and slurps at your clit, slipping two fingers into your pussy.

The stretch is slightly uncomfortable, but Shota’s teeth grazing the juncture between your neck and shoulder distracts you. His teeth sink into the soft skin and a sharp pain radiates down your arm and up your neck.

He marked you – like an animal.

Pleasure blooms in your stomach, diverting your attention. As much as you try to hold it off, you feel the beginnings of an orgasm approaching.

Both men can sense it too, from your heavy breathing and muffled moans to the way your hips slightly grind against Hizashi’s face.

It builds up steadily and your body feels warm. You no longer try to cover up your satisfied moans, lifting your hips off of the bed as Hizashi adds a third finger.

You’re on the precipice, you’re so close.

And they stop.

Soft whimpers escape before you can stop them and you try to grind your hips against Hizashi’s fingers, but he pulls them out, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated.

Shota’s hand moves from under your breasts, sliding up your chest to rest on your throat. He looks deep into your eyes before tightening his grip until you can barely breathe.

Your hands shoot up to yank on his wrists, but his grip is steady, and you can do nothing more than rest your hands on his as he stares at you, through you.

His moves forward, until the two of you are nose to nose, sharing the same air.

“If you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I’ll break both of your legs. We won’t have to worry about you getting away if you can’t walk. Do you understand me?”

His words bring tears to your eyes, which you try to hold back, blinking furiously. You remain silent, one last show of defiance.

It doesn’t mean anything; you know it won’t amount to anything. But you do it anyway, so that you can convince yourself that you at least tried to fight back in some small way.

Shota’s grip tightens, his fingers cutting off your oxygen, and you give up, frantically nodding, slapping at his hand in an attempt to wordlessly communicate.

He hums then, deep and contemplative, before letting go of your throat and kissing you once again, more deeply than before. His hand slides back down your chest, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. It feels as though he’s pinning you down, though there’s no pressure behind his touch.

Hizashi mutters something under his breath before returning to work with gusto.

Within minutes, you’re nearing your peak once more.

You’ve given up on fighting them, but you don’t engage with them either.

They take what they want, and one harsh suckle on your clit and a well-timed prod with Hizashi’s fingers deep inside you have you slipping over the edge, body shaking as you let out unrestrained moans. Shota had pulled away the moment he realised you were about to cum, letting your moans echo throughout the room as Hizashi continued to help you ride out your orgasm.

Your breathing is heavy and uneven, and you stare up at the ceiling in shame.

These men were bad people. They’d done horrible things to you. They’d hurt you, physically and mentally. 

Why had you enjoyed that?

Shota stands and makes his way to the opposite end of the room. You don’t have a chance to see exactly what he’s doing because Hizashi sits up and shifts your body to the side, turning you until your head lays near the side of the bed.

He crawls up your body, coming to rest on his knees between your legs. His hands still softly massage your thighs, sliding up your hips and coming to rest on the curve of your waist.

You know what’s coming next.

As much as you’d like to deny it, believe otherwise, or fight back, you know what’s coming.

Hizashi pulls you towards him, slotting himself between your legs before lifting your thighs to rest them on his hips. His fingers stroke the skin of your waist, perhaps in what he believes to be a comforting motion. He must see the worry on your face.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll enjoy this.”

His hips glide forwards, his cock slipping between your folds and coating itself in a mixture of his spit and your slick. His cock head catches on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As he pushes the thick head of his cock to your entrance, Shota reappears, stopping next to your head.

You’re babbling out nonsense now. You think you might be begging them. You’re not sure.

His heavy cock slides into your pussy with an uncomfortable pop and you cry out. He doesn’t stop though, doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He pushes forward, his cock shoving through the tight rings of muscle.

Your cries and pleas are muffled when Shota taps the bulbous head of his dick on to your lips, a silent demand for you to open your mouth.

The protest lies on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to make the situation any worse than it already is.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you open your mouth and Shota surges forward, shoving his thick length down your throat. He isn’t as gentle as Hizashi.

Eventually, both men bottom out, and thankfully pause for a moment, letting you adjust. The tip of Hizashi’s cock lays snuggly against your cervix, kissing the entrance painfully.

Where Hizashi is slightly longer, Shota is thicker. His dick fills your mouth, your throat, and you struggle to breath. Your jaw aches from the stretch. Both men are uncomfortably large, both long and thick, and you can’t stop a few tears from escaping.

Hizashi rubs slow, gentle eight-figures into your clit, trying to get you to relax. Shota wipes away the few tears you managed to shed.

Their patience wanes and they move in sync, both men pulling back and snapping their hips forward sharply at the same time.

The movement knocks the air out of your lungs, and you’re almost certain that you feel them tearing you in half, touching in the middle of you. Hizashi pounds painfully against your cervix.

All self-restraint leaves the room as they feel you clench around them, and they set a harsh, bruising pace.

They continue on, oblivious to your discomfort.

The only sounds filling the room are their harsh pants, the slap of skin on skin, and the wet squelch of your pussy. Occasionally, the sound of you gagging echoes out as well, particularly when the head of Shota’s dick hits the back of your throat.

There’s a brief pause, one in which you hope that they’ve decided you’ve been punished enough. You’re not that lucky though, and they pull out only to flip you over and onto your stomach. Hizashi pulls your hips back and up, shoving his cock back into your dripping pussy and returning to his hammering pace almost immediately.

Shota is slower, threading his fingers through your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail before gently stroking your cheek, the look in his eyes almost loving. It leaves as quickly as it appeared, and he’s back to shoving his length down your throat, cock head tapping the back of your throat harshly, your nose touching his pelvic bone and the patch of dark hair around the base of his dick.

Hizashi’s grip on your waist is painful, fingers imprinting into the soft flesh despite how gentle he was earlier. Shota is the opposite, tenderly petting your hair, acting as if he wasn’t currently suffocating you, bruising your oesophagus.

You gag and try desperately to breathe through your nose, tears and spit covering your face. Your hands grip Shota's thighs, trying to steady yourself, nails digging into the firm muscles that lay beneath his skin.

Despite the uncomfortable position and the brutal pace the two men have taken up, you feel a second orgasm begin to stir deep in your lower belly. Hizashi seems to sense it too, leaning forward to lay his upper body over your own, one hand shifting to in between your legs to harshly rub at your clit, the other wrapping around your waist possessively.

Shota is the first to cum, his head tipped back as he lets out a deep groan, one that rumbles in his chest, his hips stuttering as cum floods to the back of your throat. You choke and splutter as he stills his hips, staying still as the last spurts of cum drain from his cock.

Hizashi’s breath is warm on your neck, tickling you as he lays soft, fleeting kisses on the back of your neck.

“Swallow it,” he whispers in your ear, gently nibbling at the shell of your ear.

When you don’t follow his order, he cruelly tweaks your clit, making you cry out with Shota’s cock still deep down your throat.

“I said, swallow it.”

You do.

It’s salty and thick, and you cough harshly as Shota slowly pulls out of your mouth, patting your head with a satisfied smile.

“Open, let’s see.”

Your mouth drops open, tongue lolling out as you stare up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Shota appreciates the sight, shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. At the same moment, Hizashi hits a soft, spongy spot deep inside you and you moan out, eyes rolling back in your head.

Both men groan deeply, Hizashi letting out a low fuck under his breath.

He shifts his position, sitting upright and pulling you towards him, sitting you upright on his lap before slamming his hips up against your own, increasing the tight circles he rubs onto your oversensitive clit.

What sends you over the edge is Shota leaning forward and taking your breasts into his calloused hands, fingers swiping over your sensitive nipples, tweaking, and twisting them. He seems to contemplate something for a moment before sucking a nipple into his mouth, teeth gently nipping and rolling it around. The sting is soothed by his tongue as it flattens over the hardened bud, swiping in an upwards motion.

A well-timed thrust from Hizashi and a cruel tug at your clit sees you falling over the edge, crying out as you tangle your hands in Shota’s hair, holding him close to your chest and you grind down onto Hizashi’s hardened cock still pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm.

Hizashi follows soon after you do, your spasming walls milking every last drop of thick, creamy cum out of his twitching cock. He pulls out with a wet plop after a moment, breathing heavily onto the back of your neck, laying a sloppy, wet kiss there before releasing his bruising grip from your hips.

Shota moves away from your chest then too, with one last twist of an over-sensitive nipple.

Without the support of the two men keeping you upright, you flop forward as if your bones are made of jelly. Shota laughs lightly, hand still petting your hair. Hizashi stands and makes his way to the ensuite bathroom as Shota shifts you so that you’re laying comfortably with your head on a pillow.

Hizashi returns moments later holding a damp wash cloth, handing it to Shota before grabbing a few bottles of water from the minifridge near his side of the large bed.

Shota sits on the bed between your legs, opening them to gently wipe at your still sensitive cunt. Your legs twitch and shake despite how careful he is, and it makes the two men laugh. Hizashi props you up slightly, handing you an open bottle of water, encouraging you to drink.

The water is ice cold, and it feels as if it flows over your organs as you swallow. The vast difference in temperature calms your shaking hands.

When Shota finishes cleaning you and himself up, he joins you and Hizashi on the bed – Hizashi on your right, Shota on your left.

The two men cuddle you between them, and the silence that has settled over the room is crushing. You feel their stares boring into you.

You wonder how long they’ll make you wait until they speak up. They seem content for the moment, staring down at you, holding you close to them.

“You did well – you handled your punishment better than I thought you would have, I’m proud of you.”

Shota’s words bring you little comfort, especially with his grip tightening around your waist when he continues speaking.

“That being said, your punishment is far from over. It wouldn’t have gotten to this point if you had just accepted being locked outside for a few hours yesterday, but the fact that you decided to try to run away – in the middle of a punishment no less – that shows that you clearly don’t understand why you’re being punished in the first place.”

It’s silent for a moment, then he continues.

“The fact that you put yourself in danger like that is the biggest problem, and you will be disciplined for it once you recover.”

On your other side, Hizashi speaks up, sharing his thoughts as well, his hold on you tensing.

“Yeah, we’re plenty mad about that - running off in the snow like that was stupid. But even though you made your punishment worse yesterday, you did well today. Sho and I, we’re both so happy that you finally decided to accept us. It may not seem like it right now, but we’ve just made a lot of progress. Like Sho just said, we’re proud of you.”

He places a gentle, loving kiss on your lips.

You remain silent. Despite their words, you don’t feel content.

Deep down, you know that you’ve just given up a part of yourself, something that you will never be able to get back.

The love-filled kisses you receive from the two men shatter whatever hope you had left.

Something inside of you breaks, and it’s crushed to dust.

Because you know that they’re right.

And that hurts more than anything they could have done, any punishment they could have imposed upon you.

[thetreefairy]

Platonic Aizawa and Present Mic, where they come home late, the reader is just sitting in the dark eating and crying and listening to Daddy issues (favorite song to torture me with since I'm fatherless). Honestly, I’ll be good. Then next second, I’m quietly crying in the bathroom, and I’m pretty sure it’s not my depression.

Me making this a small fic like thing cuz I'm still studying be like:

Well this is disappointing

Reader hated it when Erasermic came home late, even if they were overbearing, they missed them.

It’s because their biological father was never there, attachment issues much.

"Time to make some shitty ass noodles and listen to daddy issues." Reader mumbled, as Reader cooked, they dumped a whole ass group of spices in the noodles and the egg they were making. When all that was done, they grabbed some junkfood and hid away in their room

When Erasermic noticed that no lamps were on. “Huh, reader never goes to bed early.” Hizashi mumbled surprised. But when they walked to Reader’s room to check up on them, they heard the song: ‘Daddy issues.

“What the actual fuck- “Aizawa cursed when they opened the door, seeing Reader eating noodles with a weird looking egg and random junk food around them. “Hey! No cursing around our baby!” Hizashi hissed to his husband. “You guys are four hours late!” Reader shouted with a full mouth of food. The couple stared at Reader shocked, switching the light switch so that they see their face. “Is that why you are sitting like this?” Aizawa asked, causing Reader to nod.

“Your assholes left me alone for four hours! And it’s not like I can leave because you fuckers never let me leave the house!”

The two adults chuckled and sat down next to Reader, Hizashi on the left and Aizawa on the right, they couldn't help but smile instead of scolding them for their foul language. “How about we have a family day this week?” Aizawa asked with a smile. “Can we watch a horror movie?”

“One horror movie, and you have to pick out a comedy or romance movie.” Hizashi compromised. Reader nodded well grinning, slurping their noodles and offering a piece of their egg to both their fathers. “You really need to put less spices on your food.” Aizawa mumbled as he ate a small piece. “Or, or, you should learn how to handle spices.”

"TIME FOR CUDDLES!" Hizashi shouted, trying to prevent an argument. Aizawa chuckled and said: "You are stuck with us tonight, kid."

[splendid-stories]

❤️❤️❤️

I adore this

Hey I have a yandere erasermic obsession. I don’t know if you do angst but what if they were punishing reader and she gets really exhausted and passes out. They think they killed her, I know this is dumb and you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable-🍓 anon

Yandere Erasermic punishing reader

I've missed these two a lot😭

Anyways, enjoy! Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Erasermic:

"Hey! I'm home! How are my darlings- Shou? You okay?" Hizashi asked as he entered his home. He was looking forward to spending time with you and the hero, but judging by the pissed off look on Aizawa's face, it didn't seem like happening.

Aizawa was taking deep breaths, his eyebrows furrowed and face contorted into a scowl. God, what did you do now? Hizashi couldn't help but wonder that, as he slid onto the couch next to his husband.

"What did she do now?"Hizashi asked, resting his head on Aizawa's chest as his arms wrapped around him.

Aizawa closed his eyes in annoyance, his own arms engulfing Hizashi as he let out a huff. "She's so ungrateful."

Hizashi lightly chuckled at that, waiting for him to continue. "You know what she did today? She tried to escape. Again. I don't know how she got the code to unlock the main door, but she opened it. She barely made it 2 steps out the door before I pulled her back in. I was taking a shower and she thought she could make a run for it. " Aizawa runs a hand through his hair, but Hizashi suddenly caught it. He looked at his husband's hand, it was turning a nasty shade of purple, and was red around the knuckles, slightly swelled. "Shou, babe... what happened to your hand?"

Aizawa exhales deeply, closing his eyes, trying to control his anger. "Our sweet little darling happened. After I got her back in, I told her to apologise. You know what she did? She spit at me, screamed all kinds of profanities. When I took her down to the basement to chain her up, she tried attacking me." Aizawa clenched his jaw. "I was only going to leave her there for the night. But what she said to me next... Hizashi, I lost it. I punched her." Hizashi's eyes widened. He knew Aizawa wasn't one to lose his temper easily, he knew he wasn't one to resort to violence immediately. So the blonde could only wonder what in the hell did you say to him. "Shouta... what did she say?" He asked softly, almost afraid of the answer himself.

Shouta looked at his husband, trying to calm himself when he told him what you barked out. "She said...she said that she wondered how UA let... let creeps like us around kids." Hizashi's eyes widened. If there's one thing he knew about Aizawa, it was how deeply he cared about his students, treating them like his own children. He prided himself in being their teacher, and so the nerve of you to even say something so disgusting like that, Aizawa was bound to snap.

"I cant believe she'd say something...so horrible. I'm so sorry, Shou." Hizashi whispered, nuzzling Aizawa's neck. The pro hero only grunted. "Whatever. I think it'd be good if she stays down there... for 2 weeks. Yeah that'd be good. And no dinner tonight either. I don't want to put up with anymore of her bullshit." Hizashi only nodded, but then caught another look at his hand and he stood up, pulling Aizawa along with him to the kitchen. Hizashi pulled out a bag of frozen peas and started applying it on his bruise hand to reduce the swelling.

As the two ate dinner, Hizashi couldn't help but worry that if Shouta's hand looked like this from the punch, then what did the receiving end look like. He chose to remain quiet on that matter, not wanting you to ruin the night anymore.

The next morning when Aizawa woke up, he went downstairs to the kitchen to find his husband. Hizashi who was almost done plating up, greeted Aizawa with a kiss. "So, should I take this plate down to our baby bird?" Hizashi asked, already knowing Aizawa didn't want to see you yet. You had really hurt him. Shouta nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Be right back." Hizashi pressed a kiss to his lips before going to the basement.

Hizashi opened the door to the basement, walking down the stairs, hoping to see you greet him like the angel they know you are deep down. But when he got down there, he saw you were still asleep on the floor, your limbs still bound to the chains. Your face was turned away from him and Hizashi wasnt sure if he wanted to see the damage that was done to your face.

Hizashi just called for you. “Love, I’ve brought breakfast! Eggs and hashbrowns! Your favourite!” When you didnt respond, he just sighed before placing the plate on the floor. Your chains were long enough to for you to reach it, and while Hizashi wished nothing more than to feed you himself, he knew you needed to be punished.

As he went up the stairs and out of the basement, he couldnt help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on him.

“Do you think she’ll be sorry after her punishment?”Hizashi asked his partner.  Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Unlikely. But she’ll learn to think twice before she says stupid shit like that.” Hizashi chuckled, but secretly hoped that would be the case. He got up from the couch where he and Aizawa sat. “I’ll go get her plate.” They were done eating 2 hours ago, but still waited for you to finish up because they know how stubborn you are.

When Hizashi walked down the stairs, he wasn’t surprised to find your plate untouched. You would always do that the first few days, before finally succumbing to your hunger. Pointless, really. But what disturbed him was how you were still in the same position he had seen you in 2 hours ago. And it was coming to him how still you looked, he couldn't see your body moving a single muscle, he couldn't see if you were breathing. 

Hizashi walked towards you cautiously, waiting for you to jump up and scare the crap out of him. But his breath hitched when he finally saw what had happened to you. 

A big bruise had formed on your cheek, swelling and taking all the shades of the purple, blue and green. But the worst part was seeing the blood and a clear liquid dripping out of your nose slowly, forming a pool around your head.

He turned you on to your back and started shaking your shoulder. “Darling? Wake up, baby. Its me. Baby, wake up.” But your body remained unconscious. He started tapping your cheek, only then noticing you weren’t breathing. All the alarms went off in his head. “SHOUTA! COME DOWN OVER HERE!” 

Shouta rushed to the basement, wondering what stunt you pulled now. But seeing your limp body in Hizashi’s arms, blood coating your cheeks, he knew something terrible had occured. Aizawa ran towards his partners, looking at your bruising cheek. “She’s n-not breathing. She’s not fucking breathing, Shou!” Hizashi sobbed as Aizawa took your wrist in his hand. His blood ran cold when he found no pulse. “What are we gonna do?! She’s dead! Our baby is dead!” Shouta blocked out Hizashi’s voice. They both cant be panicking right now. Aizawa turned to his partner. “Hizashi. Bring her up. I’ll get the car out.” He commanded. “H-hospital? Shou, its too late-” Hizashi cried out but Aizawa gave him a stern look. “Bring her up. Now.” 

They got to the hospital in fairly record time, passing you over to the doctors while Aizawa made up a story of how they found you in an alley. Only after the doctors left them alone did it dawn on Aizawa how serious the situation was. He killed you, didnt he? You would still be alive if he hadnt hit you. How could he ever claim to love you when he hurts you-

Aizawa shook his head, he could wallow up in his guilt later. For now, he needed to comfort his husband and pray that you make it through somehow.

A few hours later, the doctors had given them an update on your condition. You made it, barely. Something had hit your face and damaged some part of your brain, causing there to be a very slow heart beat. But you're all okay now, since they brought you in time.

When they were allowed to finally go in, thats when Aizawa finally broke down. Seeing you unconscious, knowing he almost killed you, it got to him. Hizashi wanted to console Aizawa, but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side. Hizashi pressed soft kisses to your temples, wiping his tears that fell on your cheek, while Aizawa stood to your side. He wanted to hold your hand but he was afraid to hurt you again. As the duo sat by your side, they made a silent promise to never hurt you again, at least not physically.

After that incident, you'll never be left alone. The two are always breathing down your neck, drowning you in love, looking at you with even more fondness; obsession and protectiveness swirling in their eyes, right there with guilt.

Aizawa would never apologise, but that doesn't mean he's not sorry. You would often wake up to him looking at your bruised cheek with worry, caressing it so gently, as if he'd break you. He'll be a lot more demanding with physical affection, always wrapping his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap and tucking your face under his chin as he cards his fingers through your hair.

You didn't think Hizashi could be anymore overbearing, but you were proved wrong. He'd panic if you were out of his sight for more than 5 minutes. Always worrying, paranoia creeping up on him when you're not in the same room as him. And when he would finally find you (mostly in the bathroom), he'd check you all over for injuries, not trusting your assurances.

Punishments aren't violent anymore. They're humiliating. Pulling you in their laps and feeding you by hand, talking about you as if you're not there, making you take baths with them(not showers because they end too quickly), making you sleep with them, naked.

And the couple won't lie, but this form of punishment seems to be far more effective. With how quickly you turn docile, folding in on yourself as if you could hide from them... its cute.

But hey, its better than getting beat, right?

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Yandere Class 1-A X Reader — { PART 2 }: We’ve Got Company~

(Description: Titles are hard, okay? Please don’t shame me for how cheesy it is because I know it's corny LOL. But I make up for it with decent writing! I POPPED OFF with some of these parts.

We all know this by now, but it’s safe to say (Y/N) is too trusting of EVERYONE. The amount of people I keep making them blindly and wholly give their faith to is…concerning. I know you guys probably want them to fight back more, but it’s hard when I haven’t labeled them with a specified Quirk. I wanted to leave it up to you guys to give them the attributes they have in your minds without spoon-feeding you every single choice (Y/N) makes. Sooooo, it suffers a little bit with the repetitiveness of this constant back and forth getting pulled every which way. It’s also difficult when there are so many characters to cover.

I am not complaining about it though! I am extremely proud of this story and am very happy with the outcome. I just hope you guys love it as much as I do. Plusss, it’s kinda nice to imagine being a princess stolen away at every opportunity by handsome/gorgeous suitors teehee!)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Original Concept - [Mommabean’s OG Story] → Here

Part I - [My first addition] → Here

Part II → You’re here!

~

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Sequel Oneshot // This story is a continuation of Momma’s Yandere Class 1-A Purge short story. I have written a previous part to this, so please check it out to understand what is happening!; Yandere Purge! If you don’t know what that is, go take a look at @yanderemommabean’s original works of it on her page, all is explained there; Many of MHA’s adults are included here, but I don’t want to spoil who exactly is in the story, so that is all you get so far~!

Word Count: 24K

WARNING(s): Swearing; physical fighting and threats (threats aren’t made at (Y/N), nor are they hurt beyond bruising); there is a brief mention of rape and sexual assault—it is not gone into heavily or in detail, but you need to know it is there; mental and emotional manipulation to the reader; bending of MHA’s storyline and the events currently happening (mainly regarding the setting, timeline, and people’s aliveness LMAO) to fit (Y/N) into the story but bear with me; some unrealistic interactions are going to happen in this fic because to get everyone together in a setting like this is near impossible; All of Class 1-A’s students are aged up to third years & everyone is 18 or older // I AM WRITING THEM AS IF THEY ARE IN CLASS 3-A NOW FYI!

[PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse my writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference between reading/writing yandere stories V.S real-life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like a character(s) in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware, stay safe.]

~

Unable to leave without one final gloat, Shinsou turns back to smirk at the students, “All of you were wrong earlier, by the way. It’s me, dumbasses.”

Suddenly, a cocky voice chuckles from behind the mind-controlling boy, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, kid~...”

As reluctant as Shinsou is to say this, a tiny shiver runs down his back. Coming from the busted-up entrance of the gymnasium, Aizawa’s voice rings out like a bell. Your current threat swivels around to face the intruder. Even though his recognizable voice is a dead giveaway, seeing him actually standing there in the rubble draws a sigh of relief out of you. You don’t know whether to cry, smile, or scream for his help; either way, it’s just a nice change of pace to see his usual disheveled appearance and relaxed stature. At least something has remained consistent on this hellish evening.

Though, something sensible clicks in your mind. Thinking back on all the strong-willed friends you lost in the fight against this disease, you realize there’s a strong chance that even your own teacher has fallen victim to its siren call. As much as you’d like to go running into his comforting embrace and wail about how horribly your classmates have been treating you the past few hours, you bite your tongue and stay complacent in Hitoshi’s arms. Not like you could voice many of your concerns with the makeshift gag still sat across your mouth.

“Damn,” Shinsou mutters to himself before perking up to meet his instructor's eye with a devious glint in his eye, “Mr. Aizawa. Good to see—,” Before the boy could finish his greeting, the stoic hero held up his hand, his palm facing Shinsou.

“Save the pleasantries. You’d think after all these years of one-on-one training you’d realize I can read you like an open book. Your expressions continue to give your intentions away too easily. So cut the crap.” Shinsou's false smile drops quicker than it appeared. Aizawa leisurely waltzes into the room, closing in on the both of you.

Aizawa continues his analysis with a sigh, “And I wouldn’t try that little gimmick with me. I’m not like my students over there,” he vaguely points behind the two of you to the group.

“I’m your mentor. All the tricks you have up your sleeve are hardly even interesting choices to me anymore. I should know, I taught them all to you, after all.” He chuckled to himself.

“Did you come here just to nag my ear off about how you’re so much better than me, or because you have something actually important to say? ‘Cause, if it's the former, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got some pretty precious cargo in my hands at the moment.” Shinsou brags, hoisting you further up into his arms, forcing a garbled complaint from you.

“Watch your tone, brat.” Aizawa glares at the snarky comeback his student possessed. Hm. So, Hitoshi thinks he’s hot shit because he won against a handful of decently strong opponents? Well, that’s just fine. He’s used to putting cocky bastards in their place.

“I’ve come to offer you a deal of sorts. We can either speak about it rationally, or,” he shines a leering grin, “I can use my quirk on you, and you can say goodbye to the hold you have over your classmates right now. How do you think you’d fare against 19 pissed-off pro heroes?” This time, you can actually feel Shinsou shutter at the sinister tone your teacher leans into. His reaction makes sense. The idea of irrational, infected, superhuman, edgy teens hunting you down fighting isn’t a pleasant one. Not just one of them either, a whole damn fleet of them. You’d be shaking in your boots too.

“Since I’m nice, I’ll let you decide,” Aizawa has a bored look on his face again as he runs a hand through the inky mop of hair atop his head. A few seconds lurch by before Shinsou caves.

“Fine, old-timer. I’ll hear you out.” Shinsou reluctantly agrees. He knows he could take on a few of them at once in combat, but as soon as the heavy hitters join the fight—it’ll be over. He’d much rather join forces with his instructor than be betrayed by the greedy moochers residing in his class. Shinsou knows that if some of them had the chance, they’d steal you with no hesitation or regret. He’ll just have to sit and see what the idea Aizawa wants to propose is.

The two of them walk towards each other. A meeting held face-to-face in the middle of the gymnasium.

“I should honestly reprimand you guys for how shittily you’ve treated (L/N) this evening. It’s absurd how ragged you’ve been running them. Absolutely unacceptable. Maybe I should even expel the lot of you after the Purge ends.” Wait, Aizawa could see you too? What, is your peril being broadcasted on live television for the world to see or something?!

“Hey, don’t lump me with those barbarians,” Shinsou pulled back in a look of grievance, “I waited until everything was calm to strike. They were the ones who made (Y/N) run around like a headless chicken.” He tossed his head back to the hypnotized horde.

“Hm. We’ll discuss it as a class later.” Aizawa coughs into his fist.

“Fine. Now, what’s this deal you’ve thought up?” Shinsou prompts the conversation.

“Right. It’s about—,” Aizawa is interrupted by his cautious student.

“(Y/N). Am I right?” Shinsou jumps to the conclusion rather abruptly.

Aizawa glares, “Don’t interrupt someone while they’re talking, Shinsou. It’s rude.”

“But you did that to me not ev—,”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Aizawa purposefully cuts him off, “And yes. It’s about them.”

“Hmph,” Shinsou narrows his eyes at the mention of you, “what do you want with them?”

“Not quite the right question. Change that to more like what can we do for them,” Aizawa twists the words to better fit his narrative.

Intrigued, Hitoshi takes the bait, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I don’t want to outright take them from you,” he shifts his weight to the other foot, “I want to make a deal to share them with you.”

Shouta continues, “Aoyama and his group had a good idea teaming up with Izuku’s crew. Working together, especially when the stronger piers can aid the weaker links, is a much more productive way of going about things. There’s safety in numbers.” Your body freezes up at his words. You connect the dots that he heard, or possibly even saw that whole ordeal. How? Where was he viewing from? Did he watch on a security camera? It’s a likely theory, the school is littered with them. You thought Denki killed the power earlier with his quirk. Or, with a more chilling idea, was he actually there? Physically in the vicinity? How was he nearby, could hear and see the whole event, and you didn’t notice him? Why didn’t he help you? Or, at least, intervene? Your mind is muddled with questions, but the two press on with their conversation.

“Sharing, huh? Thought you liked working alone.” Shinsou prodded, skeptical of the plan.

“Some missions call for an extra set of hands.” Aizawa cooly replied.

“I’m not sure. Not too big on the idea of letting go of them.” Shinsou pulled your bundled-up form closer to his chest. It’s like he’s a little kid—red in the face because of frustration, fighting to keep his stuffie all to himself as an adult asks him to share it with the other kids.

“I’m not asking you to fully let go of them, kid. Just enough so I can take care of them too. They’re a bit of a handful, as I’m sure you’ve no doubt figured out by now,” you whip your head to scowl at him and heatedly shout muffled curses at him, “Heh. My bad, kitten, but it’s true. The trouble your presence kicks up is a lot to handle, even for a pro.” You feel your face heat up in embarrassment at his words. Not that it wasn’t obvious before, but it’s safe to say he is infected as well.

“Plus, what will you do when you can’t control the rest of the students? You and I both know that your quirk doesn’t last forever, and your control is slowly dwindling away, even as we speak. I could help you fend them off, if it comes to it.” Shouta observed. He has a natural way of being extremely persuasive, doesn’t he?

Shinsou isn’t exactly thrilled to give you up, he’d much rather stake his claim on you by himself. His company should be more than enough to fill your time! He doesn’t want time with you to be shared with others he doesn’t approve of. Though…Aizawa isn’t exactly untrustworthy. Hitoshi definitely trusts him more than someone as hazardous as Bakugo, or as miserable to be around as Monoma. He’s a great teacher, even though he’s kind of a hardass. Someone he looks up to. Maybe they could give it a shot? After all, if it doesn’t work out, there’s still plenty of Purge time left for him to find somewhere else to hide and drag you off to when Aizawa isn’t looking.

“Okay. We’ll give your idea a go.” Shinsou begrudgingly complied.

“Good choice, kid.” Aizawa’s lips twitch upward into a minuscule grin. Yet again, your own fate is taken away from you as the two of them close in, grasp hands, and shake to signify the agreement.

“Ooohhh~! What a touching truce, cuties~,” a sugary-sweet voice curls around the boys’ conversation like a hazy morning fog.

“Huh—!” Shinsou isn’t fast enough to react to the intruder as he feels all his senses numb. A dreadfully sweet smell, the same kind of sugary tang that was laced throughout the woman’s voice, invades his nose. It should be disgusting, it should make him sick to his stomach, but the candied scent is nothing short of divine. It’s like nothing he's ever smelled before. It honestly makes him want to inhale more. Which is an action he subconsciously commits, sealing his fate. Shinsou’s legs grow wobbly as he starts to lose feeling all over his body. As unpleasant as he wants it to feel, as he begs it to feel, all he can recognize is a cozy warmth clouding his better judgment. Through the mental and physical struggle, he remembers you’re still sitting prettily in his swiftly weakening arms. He panics, afraid he’s going to, or that he has already dropped you. He glances down.

Well…you used to be there. You’re not anymore.

Shinsou groans, crashing to his knees. He scans the surrounding floor, looking for any trace of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Good news is he didn’t drop you like an idiot. Bad news is someone else has their disgusting hands all over you. That thought makes him want to pick off his own flesh cell by cell, but there’s nothing he can do except lay on the ground and reluctantly drift in and out of consciousness.

“Too bad you’re not as lovely as our sweetheart here. Otherwise, you’d be my plaything too~,” the woman giggles, “But, oh well. Pleasant dream, honey~,” she coos at the purple-haired boy. You’re beyond floored at how quickly Shinsou was subdued, considering the quick work he made of the other students. Curious as ever, you shot your head back and forth to identify who stole the show this time.

The owner of the saccharine voice turned out to be none other than Midnight, your art history and overly-sexual pro hero mentor. She giggles to herself, watching her prey twitch and squirm in retaliation against her quirk on the floor, “While struggling normally is my favorite part of the foreplay, I wouldn’t advise it this time, dear~. Somnambulist isn’t easy to win against. It’s a much more potent sleep agent than your little quirk could ever dream of being.”

“Love that energy, Midnight! Smooth work,” a boisterous voice slices through your eardrums. You cringe at the volume, recognizing that borderline shriek. The person who is now capturing your body is Present Mic! What the hell are all three of your teachers doing here?! Shouldn’t they be like normal people and hide from the Purge?

As if reading your mind, Aizawa coughs to grab his coworkers’ attention, “That was completely unnecessary of you two. A little excessive too. I told you both I could handle the situation on my own. What’re you doing here?”

“Jeez! So cold!” Mic’s voice danced up and down in pitch, “Don’t be so frosty with us, Eraser! We just wanted to help!”

“Yes,” Midnight purred, the click click of her skyscraper-length stilettos stabbing the shellacked ground echoed across the rubble-covered floor, “you think us so shallow! You act as if we thought you couldn’t take care of this, dear. All we believed was it’s nice to have some support on the field, yes~?”

Aizawa, always as sharp as a knife, caught onto their plan effortlessly, “You two just couldn’t wait to get your grubby hands on them, could you?” The two opposing teachers choked on the air in their lungs as he saw through their lies. They fumbled the next few words that streamed out of their mouths, trying desperately through the stutters to justify their cause and deter his wit.

“I see. Hmm…whatever. Either way, you two never fail to overdo it,” Aizawa grumbles to himself, his chin sinking further into the comfort of his scarf, “I guess I’ll need some assistance dealing with the rest of my students over there. They won’t remain hypnotized for much longer now that Shinsou’s down—I’d rather not have to start a physical fight when there’s no need.”

“Oooh~,” Midnight purred, slinking over to the slowly reawakening crowd, “leave this to me, loves~!” The woman proceeded to unleash another plum of her drunkening quirk right as the class snapped out of their haze. You watched as they fell one by one to the floor in sudden exhaustion. Even the strong-willed one couldn’t escape the fate of her noxious gas, dropping limply to the floor in a dreamless slumber.

“Aww, they’re so sweet when they’re not getting in our way.” Mic snickered.

“Mic. Watch it,” Aizawa’s laid-back indifference swiftly shifted into his scary steely gaze as he warned his rambunctious coworker to stop his prattling.

“Whaaaat~??? You gotta admit, your hooligans sure made our night a lot harder!” Hizashi pouted in frustration.

‘When am I gonna catch a break from these…these…wait. What…the…,’ your thoughts slowly lose their path in your head, your mind-numbing and slipping away from coherent ideas. Your limbs feel like the thickest cement in the world when you try to move them. It’s too tough, too much work—and sleeping sounds like a fantastic idea. You’re just so tired. You start to heave for oxygen as if your lungs can never get enough air inside of them. You’re trying so hard to stay awake because you know in the back of your brain as delicious as stopping your fighting to rest sounds, something doesn’t feel right. You can’t remember why. Eventually, it becomes too difficult to keep your head up on your own, so you rest it against Mic’s open shoulder.

Hizashi immediately stops bickering against the stoic man in front of him as he feels your head plop onto his shoulder. Now that his attention is drawn back to you, he realizes you weren’t squirming around as much as he’d expected you to. He knows even past the lingering virus flooding his veins you wouldn’t give in to their advances so easily—as nice as that would have been—so he devotes all his attention to your slumped frame.

“Hey, you alright, doll?” he cranes his head down to catch your unfocused eyes. He jostles the shoulder you were resting on a bit, trying to reel you back from wherever your mind had floated off to, and that seemed to help a little. You tried to talk, but the gag prevented any words from coming out. Catching the barrier, he beckoned his partner in crime over with a quick tilt of his head and a quiet, “Help me get this thing off their mouth, Shouta.”

Without hesitation, your concerned homeroom teacher stepped over and peeled off the tape as gently as he could. Your mouth now freed, you let out an unconscious whine of relief, showing a small bit of happiness at having some bit of freedom back.

“What did you say, sweets?” Mic pressed yet again.

“Mmhn…I…uhm…mmm…nnh,” you mindlessly babbled in a soft voice.

“Come on, (Y/N). How do you feel right now?” Aizawa coaxed, his worry over you hiking higher at your unresponsiveness.

“Hmmm…just…tired…I think…mnnn,” Your eyes couldn’t stay open. They opted to flutter close every time no matter how much Mic shimmed around in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Tired. Hizashi—Midnight’s quirk.” Aizawa said as he caught Hizashi’s fear-filled gaze. Both of their anxiety floated back down at the deduction. You must’ve breathed in too much of the secondhand smoke of the pro hero’s quirk. After all, it is quite potent against those who haven’t experienced it much before. Mic’s jostling changed into more of a rocking motion, trying to lull you further into that blissful rest.

“Ohhhh. Honeycakes! That’s okay—it’s perfectly fine if you need some rest. It’s been a tough day for our snuggle bunny,” he uttered, affectionately nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

“I heard you say my name, Eraser. What’s…oh!” Midnight stopped her sentence when her eyes fell on you. Then, all she could do was squeal at the sight of your sleepy state. She shoved Aizawa out of the way, bent down to your level, and squeezed herself as close to you as she could. She was giggling and chirping in delight at how “adorable” and “absolutely, irresistibly, undeniably cute” you were.

“Awwwwhn~~~!!!” her voice curled up in pitch, her fingers smoothing your loose hairs behind your ear and stroking down your warm cheek, “You are just the sweetest lil’ thing~!! Mommy’s precious angel~. What’s happened, Zashi?” Midnight tilted her gaze up to the blond for an explanation.

He grinned, “Just breathed too much of your quirk in, s’all.”

Midnight loftily snickered, “I see. Glad we were here to take care of them!” In all honesty, she’s beyond pleased that out of any one of her coworkers, her quirk affected you the most. In a way, she saw that as she had the most influence on you—or, in other words, the most power over you. In her eyes, she saw it as you giving yourself to her. Willingly and unafraid. Midnight’s heart is cartwheeling and running laps because she sees this as you caring about her so much that you’d serve her in such a magnificent way. She could eat you up and still be searching for seconds. You’re just perfect for her in every way, shape, and form. Aizawa’s nagging drags her out of her less than innocent desires over you filling her head.

“You need to be more careful about how much of your quirk you release in the future, Midnight.” Aizawa scolds, but scorn is practically nonexistent in his voice. It’s hard to be angry at the effects you’ve been put under when the outcome makes you look so helplessly cute. He’d never admit it, but he’s envious of her quirk, when it can turn you so easily into this version of yourself. The dilated, doe-eyed look your eyes hold as they drift up to see him makes the words die a little in his throat. Perhaps the lecture he was going to give her can wait a little.

“Ahh, I will, Eraserhead. But first, we should head off for that safe spot we arranged with the others.” Midnight commented towards the men while still keening over your dopey state.

“W…Wait,” you grumbled out in a meek voice, “noo…no. I d-don’t…,” your words fell off into babbling mumbles again. It was torture to try and evade her quirk’s effects like this, but you were steadfast in wanting to fight. To flee their unwanted embrace and be alone. But all they did was coo at your brave efforts. Oh, they knew just the perfect things to say to make you feel like you were a mere baby to them. How inadvertently insulting.

“Ssh shh shh~. Awh, I know, honey~. You just feel so tired~,” Midnight sang in a baby-talk tone of voice, brushing the top of your head with the palm of her hand. It was weird, you couldn’t figure out if she saw you as her child or prey. Maybe both. That scares you. Maybe you don’t want to find out any more.

“Don’t worry, sweetie! We’ve got you,” though less scary than the woman currently pinning you, Mic’s mischievous lilt of tone didn’t skate by your observative nature. His eyes seem…darker than when you’d looked at them during one of his happy-go-lucky lectures. Like he was hiding the truth of his words behind a cobweb-like veil of deceit. In fact, Mic was resembling a conniving spider—which made you the ditzy butterfly falling for his web of a trap.

Lethargic and thoroughly worn out from both her quirk and all the running you’ve done, you finally give up. Your body feels warm and tingly, making sleep all the easier to give in to. As darkness flooded your vision and your consciousness finally dove away, Aizawa’s voice filled your ears, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

~ Timeskip ~

Sick. That’s all you felt as the darkness that consumed your thoughts and vision slowly faded. Sick to your stomach. Aching all over. You felt like you were a flimsy shirt thrown into a clothes dryer and left to spin over and over again for three cycles too long.

You tilted your head a bit and promptly groaned at the wave of nausea that swamped your brain. Such a subtle movement caused your whole world to crash sideways into an abysmal painscape. It was like you were zipping around on the shittiest, most rickety roller coaster you’d ever rode. You wanted nothing more than to get off.

All this to say—ow. What the fuck, brain? Why do you hurt me so? That’s all your mind could conjure up at the moment—insults to your own organs—because it hurts too much to think rationally. That was one hell of a shitty rest. It has to be one of the top five worst naps you’ve ever taken. You’ll have to whine about it to Denki after class today, maybe you’ll get some sympathy candy for your brave efforts. Denki…why does it feel like something important happened that he was a part of? Hmm…you can’t put your finger on it right now. Everything’s too drowsy at the moment for logic to be considered. Your eyes are still begrudgingly shut as you twist your torso around, trying to get comfortable again.

That’s the moment you started to become more aware of the outside world around you. Noises of chatter hung in the air like a nagging mosquito. The more you paid attention to the continuous sounds, the more irritating they became. Who was talking so damn much, and why were they making it your problem? Couldn’t they see you were a sick person in need of some goddamn peace and quiet? But, that’s just Class 3-A life, you suppose. None of them ever know when to shut the fuck up. Well, this time, they’d learn! They’d get a piece of your “hungover” mind.

“Oi…,” you grunted out, a snarl vehemently leaking into your tone, “Can’t you guys pipe down?! I’m sorta in the middle of trying to sleep off a nasty headache.”

Maybe your words stung the culprits a bit too much as you heard the room slow to a deathlike silence. No blistering insults were flung back at you from the resident hellhound of Class 3-A Bakugou, no chortles from the jokesters of the bunch, no profuse apologies from the worrywarts—nothing. Just…silence. I mean, you guess that’s the result you wanted; but the tense atmosphere you created is rapidly making you regret your flippant decision.

The encroaching fear made your mind real back to the very moment you woke up. You began rational plotting out the questions that swarmed your mind like hornets to their nest. Wait, where were you again? What time is it? Why do you feel so ill? Why can’t your brain remember what the date is? Something really important was happening before you passed out related to time…passed out. Hold on—that’s right, you passed out!

What the fuck.

You passed out due to what—no…due to who?

Unease finally getting the better of you, you peeped up again, but presenting a much meeker tone this time, “U-Um…guys? Look, I’m…God, I’m sorry for lashing out. I just—my head hurts like hell, I’m sore all over my everywhere, and I don’t know what’s—haannhh…ow, ow, ouch.” As you spewed out the poorly constructed apology, you steadily sat up from whatever hard surface you’d been resting on. The stiff rest stop made you all that more unnerved; it sort of felt like you were on a metal autopsy table. Cold and jarring. As if you were a poor little frog being dissected for all the insatiably curious students to see. It made you want to be swallowed whole by the floor just to escape the distress of the situation. God damnit, why is it still so hard to open your eyes?! They felt like the heaviest slab of lead welded over your eyelids. You forced them open.

Overlooking the blurriness of your vision, you could immediately tell by the general shape of the people standing in front of you that you weren’t in the presence of your beloved classmates like you thought you were.

There were multiple people in the darkened room, all with varying heights and sizes. There weren’t twenty people like how many there are in your class; their numbers were closer to ten or so. Plus, the colors of their outfits didn’t match with your friends’ hero suits you’d come to be extremely familiar with. However, you did recognize the colors and remembered who they belonged to. The answer chilled you to the bone.

You didn’t speak up again in the presence of most, if not all of, your mentors. Yes, your mentors. The adults you interacted with practically every day; who taught you every tactic you knew, who helped you to become a capable hero in the pro world. In fact, you didn’t just not talk, you slumped into yourself a bit. You were afraid. Scratch that—you were beyond afraid. You’d seen, and fought, firsthand against their wrath before. You’ve watched their fights broadcasted on the television, through shaky personally caught videos on the Internet posted by petrified civilians. You’ve worked alongside a few of them through missions and treacherous situations. Hell, you actually battle against one for the right to earn your hero license! That was a tough day, but you’d made it by the skin of your teeth—more than likely only winning because of the unimaginably heavy weights that shackled them as handicaps. In short, they were barbaric beasts on the field. Now…you’re face-to-face with their rage.

Let’s all send a brief prayer for yourself. Maybe your death will be swift and your afterlife pleasant if you beg hard enough.

“My, my, my~,” a sultry voice sang in your right ear, making you shriek at the intrusion of your personal bubble, “such a naughty-mouthed little pet~! Tell me, what brute taught you to speak to your superiors in such a disrespectful way?” It was Midnight again. She was always one to breach your boundaries, whether you wanted her to or not.

She cupped your jaw with one of her hands, pinching and squeezing your gooey cheeks with the other for her pleasure, “Ooooh, precious! How’s your whittle head~?” she cooed while smushing. She wiped away a small bit of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth, making you feel that much more like a ditzy baby. The way she played with you really did remind you of a child messing around with a delicious treat of springy mochi. Perhaps that was what you were to the ravenous woman, a delicacy to be devoured whole. You shivered in fear again.

Another person from across the room let out a high-pitched whistle, one that indicated astonishment or feeling impressed, “Wow! Brat’s got some spunk to ‘em! Good to know they haven’t switched up since we last spoke.” You weren’t as familiar with that voice as you were with your homeroom teachers, but it did strike a chord in your memory. Their youthful cheer didn’t resemble the dread-filled boredom Aizawa’s held, but they didn’t sound crude enough to be another student. Your vision clearing further was the only thing that gave their mystery identity away. It was Power Loader! It feels like forever since the two of you even acknowledged one another. Either way, he’s here now and fully decked out in his hero gear. The heavy equipment gave you a unique foreboding feeling that his abilities weren’t just all that meets the eye.

“Midnight, step aside, please.” A mellow voice takes control of the conversation. Midnight looks over her shoulder in disdain, as if the very notion of her being politely asked to leave your side is the most disrespectful thing someone could have asked her to do, but it seems that whoever popped the question meant real business. She stepped aside with a huff of frustration, mumbling under her breath curses, and something along the lines of ‘the gall’.

Once she moved, the requester hopped onto the table where you sat. They pushed into your personal space as well. You opted to lean back as much as the encroacher would allow you. From the astronaut-resembling helmet that donned their head and the puffy jacket they wore, you came to the obvious conclusion that this was 13, another member of the faculty here at UA.

She moved your head—left to right, up and down, and in a full circle. She checked all around the front of your body, and basically anywhere that you allowed her to get close to. 13 looked back deeply into your eyes before twisting back to face the bunch, “They don’t appear to be physically hurt on the outside. No scrapes, cuts, sprains, or anything broken. All that I could really deduct was their dilated pupils, meaning the effects of Somnambulist are still present,” 13 whirled forward to you, “Feeling at all hazy, woozy, or tired, (Y/N)?”

You simply stared back at the expressionless black mask 13 wore. You didn’t know what to say—half because you were uncomfortable at how close she was, and half because you were still bracing yourself to get your ass beat by the less merciful of the teachers. Your mind is drawing to blanks as you’re frozen with your jaw left hanging open.

“(Y/N)?” 13 snaps her fingers in front of your face, semi-dragging you out of your tizzy, “Hello? How are you feeling, dear?”

Ignoring the uncalled-for nickname, you wobbled your head about to snap out of whatever stupor you were stuck in, “Aaaah…um…good. I think. Still…vision’s still a bit blurry, head’s kinda fuzzy, but it’s okay. I can’t really feel my legs yet, I guess.” You tried kicking your feet back and forth, and while you could see them sway, you didn’t feel the sensation of your tendons pulling the limbs.

“Alright, that’s okay.” 13 dismounts the desk to face the crowd, “They’ll be fine. Just give their system time to recover from the grogginess. Next time, Midnight, go easier with how much of your toxins you release! They could’ve gotten severely hurt if they inhaled too much.” 13 scolds the tall woman.

Midnight scoffs, “Ugh! Why, I would never intentionally hurt my love bug like that! I swear, you act like I haven’t been controlling my quirk for my whole life!”

“Midnight, we have to set an example for our students, and lying isn’t how we do that. You should acknowledge you do go overboard sometimes,” craggy words tumbled through Midnight’s attempt to save her ass. Off to her side is the stony fortress of a hero, Cementoss, the one who spoke against her. While he is a man (or is he a rock? You’re not too sure even after all these years being a student under him) of few words, he does have the occasional snarky comeback in his vocabulary when he isn’t prattling off haikus and other unheard of analogies for life’s troubles you haven’t heard before. You’re pretty sure that half of what he says is made up on the spot, and you’ve occasionally tested how far you could push his knowledge before by asking him tough questions like “What is the meaning of life?” or “How did the universe come into being?”.

Before Midnight could pulverize the stone man into pebbles, the final guest you could see hanging in the back of the room piped up, “Can we please stop fumbling around like nimrods and get back to the matter at hand?” Inky, sludgy, and methodical in his dialect, it was no shock that its owner was the shadowy hero known to you as Ectoplasm. You’d interacted with him even less than the others, but you weren’t oblivious to his strength. You’d seen the fight between Tsu and Tokoyami against this predator, and you are happy to admit that he wasn’t your enemy on the field that day.

After briefly scanning the room once more, it seemed that everyone who was there had spoken up. Well, except for Aizawa and Present Mic, they seemed to be having a private conversation with themselves. Glances they threw in your direction, no matter how embarrassingly obvious Mic was being or the tenuousness of Aizawa’s, made it hard to ignore their scalding stares. It was borderline disturbing to see Mic so stationary. You wished he’d stop freaking you out and start yelling in your face like he always does. At least that would be one thing that hadn’t changed with the Purge.

“Precisely. Where were we? Please remind us, Ectoplasm.” Cementoss, equally over the distractions going on, encouraged the conversation forward.

“We were talking about our options. What to do for the rest of the Purge. How to proceed with the plan.” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing that could have been explained. Plan? What plan was he talking about?

“‘Listen, we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round with these ideas for over an hour now,” HUH?!?! EXCUSE YOU, BUT WHAT DID HE SAY?! There was no time to stop their conversation to ask if Power Loader was or wasn’t exaggerating the time that had passed as he pushed on, “Why can’t we just go? I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this room.”

“What, and storm out here with no strategy? Yeah, that’s the best idea we’ve heard tonight.” Aizawa finally tossed his opinion into the ring and—surprise, surprise—it’s another gripe.

“We do have a plan—and a solid one at that! I just said it’s all we’ve been discussing ever since we stepped foot into this bloody room!” Power accused.

“No,” 13 cut in, “the plan you’re talking about is the one we’ve fine-tuned to get out of the school. What Eraser’s referring to is what we’re going to do once we leave the school grounds.” She stepped over to you while giving her speech and wipes your face down with a damp, cool towel. You’re not sure where she dispensed it from, but you supposed that since she specializes in search and rescue missions, she’s bound to have supplies of the like to help in stressful situations built into her hero suit.

“Easy! We run and gun our way out until we find a safe spot! A simply perfect plan. Okay? Let’s go.” Power said with finality.

“For being a seasoned pro, you’re much too antsy. You’re rushing this operation. If you keep sprinting through the important discussions, there will be major consequences.” Cementoss threatened. Power scoffed at the man’s slightly pretentious behavior.

“Think about it,” 13 tried to reason, “There are hundreds of pro heroes out there. Half infected, half not—give or take a handful. For however many pros around out there, there are at least six times as many civilians out there who are either running for their freedom or others who are trying to take that from their darlings. It is too risky to bring them out into a world like that.” Them? Hold on, do they mean you?! No way in hell are you being taken out into the shit storm that the big city has become! You’ve seen how the Purge demolishes the city in years prior. You saw what the news predicted it would be like tonight. Chaos. Pure chaos filled with dangerous, virus-infected people and villains simply trashing the place because they are able. You came into the school to seek shelter in one of the safe rooms to avoid the city, and they want to bring you into it? They can’t do this to you! Have they completely lost it?

Well, you knew that much, but still!

“He’s right, though,” Present Mic finally spoke up from his unusual voicelessness, “We can’t stay here all night waiting for some miracle to spring up. We’ve gotta take some action.” His shoulders buckled inward to show his agitation.

“And no one is saying that we will stay, Mic.” Cement’s sensible attitude never fails to shine through the stress of a tough discussion.

“But you are saying that. You know it…because you’re afraid. We all are afraid.” Mic grabbed everyone's attention because of how softly his words came out.

“I mean, we all know who exactly is out there,” Mic somberly stood and walked over to your side. You wanted to shimmy away from how close he got, but you chose to sit still to hear what else he had to say, “It’s not an if or maybe situation—he is looking for them. Maybe staying in the school has some perks. At least here he can’t get to them without breaking down a few thick walls.” At Mic’s dreadful outlook, everyone’s prepared responses fell into stifling silence. Who is he talking about? Why do you feel a shiver scaling up your spine at the faceless adversary? All this anticipation is going to make you go insane for real this time.

“It’s true. But UA isn’t safe either. We’re not alone and we aren’t the only ones in this building who’re interested in them. Those confounding kids of yours are still around, Aizawa.” Ectoplasm countered. Finally finding the place in the conversation where you can speak, you took your chance.

“Are you talking about the rest of my class?” you breathed out. The teachers spun their heads to give you their full attention. It creeped you out—their devotion to hearing you speak as if it was gospel—but you guess this virus is handy when you need to grab the attention of a bustling room.

“Glad you can still find your voice, sweets.” Mic praised you with a gentle pat on the top of your head. A total switch up from his gloomy personality just prior.

“And, yes, we are.” Ectoplasm sighed, sending one of his clones to your side. The clone didn’t do much except lay their hand on your head and brush your hair back, “They've proven to be quite…driven in their resolve to keep you by their sides.”

“Meaning they’re being a real pain in our—,” Mic’s interrupted by Aizawa’s scarf strangling the bottom half of his face to cease the loud man’s babbling.

“Hmmn, you guys take everything so personally,” Midnight bemoaned, propping her spike-heeled shoes against the side of one of the many desks around, “the children are just playing together, ‘is all! In fact, they’re making this night much more fun for me hehe~.” You cringed, and the only word running through your mind was ‘creepy.’

“Yes. Be kind, Mic. They haven’t been a bother for some time now.” Cementoss spoke with a grateful tone of voice.

“Well, it’s no wonder they haven’t been.” Power Loader huffed while resting his body back onto a nearby table.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You shifted up further to give the conversation your full attention. Once you were up, a slight tightness on your wrists captured your distracted brain. You glanced down and saw binding on your wrists. They were bound with tape. Tape…oh! That’s right! You were taped up by Sero before this shit show happened! You scanned your body up and down and didn’t see any of his tape around anything but your hands. It’s gone from your mouth too since you can speak to the teachers. You guess you’re thankful that they at least gave you the freedom to wiggle your legs around. Nonetheless, you’re still unforgivable-level mad at them for being dicks and holding you hostage.

“He means that ever since Shinsou caught them under his hypnosis, and Midnight leaked her Somnambulist to put them under, they’ve been sound asleep in the gymnasium.” Ectoplasm’s words curl up like a snake wrapping around its helpless prey. You feel less comforted by Ecto’s clone lovingly stroking your head now. That means no one else has been looking for you ever since Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight took you. Goody gumdrops.

“Yea’,” a new, twangy voice plucks into the conversation, “and it seems they ain’t rearin’ up again for some time.” It echoed from the entrance of the room a few feet ahead of your spot by the windows, so you craned your neck to the side to see past the teachers blocking the way.

His foreign accent was a big hint, but if there was any confusion as to who exactly was speaking, his masked appearance confirmed his identity. Snipe was perched against the door frame, slacked back against the wooden frame, and bending his knee to rest one of his spurred cowboy boots on the frame as well. Since when did he get there? You don’t recall seeing him when you scanned the room earlier. What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the doorframe rested Vlad King, Class 3-B’s homeroom teacher. You watched him side-eye his coworkers and, opposite to the rest, he stayed silent. Quiet, analytical. You haven’t interacted with him as much as you have with the others since he’s not one of your main teachers, but you’re certain from the way he and Aizawa have this sort of one-sided rivalry going on between them that he’s not one to be taken lightly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” barked Present Mic, “what are you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be guarding the door!”

“We decided to come in when we heard you lot yappin’. Wanted to see if our blossom was alright.” Okay, these corny nicknames were getting to be a little much—and it was becoming hard to not laugh at them when Snipe’s Western country-ass voice tried to say it so seriously.

“Yeah, right. You just wanted to see them.” Power Loader grumbled on his lonesome. Jealous much?

“Great, the peanut gallery’s all here.” you chuckled to yourself. Honestly, it was a smartass remark that was only meant for your ears to hear, but you should’ve known better than to mutter in the presence of such high-profile, analytical, pro heroes.

“Watch your tone, (L/N). I’ve taught you better than to speak to your superiors like that.” Aizawa’s steely gaze came to life, an intimidating red glow directly pointed your way. His mop of bushy, black hair billowing up to dangle in midair. It drifted about like a bed of kelp swaying with the brush of the ocean’s currents. All the built-up energy you didn’t realize was coursing through your veins came to a staggering halt, The strength permeating your limbs immediately drained. You’ve been under the influence of Aizawa’s quirk before when you were caught in the mix of his frustrations at the pranksters of your class, so this wasn’t an unexplored feeling, but it was still jarring to be stripped of all your powers you so flippantly take for granted.

As you looked around, you realized your statement was wrong—not all of the teachers were there. Not apologizing for telling the truth, you continued your comments as though Aizawa had never threatened you, “Ixnay that—not everyone's here. Where’s the rest of them?” Aizawa sighed and released you from the hold of his power when he realized you were simply ignoring his wrath. Honestly? He tips his hat to you for the response. Avoiding confrontation is sometimes the best course of action.

“Huh? Oh! Ha ha, you’re so clever! We brought it up briefly to the other staff members but—,” Power Loader had begun, but he was soon interrupted.

“They either had no interest or were busy with other plans for the Purge.” Vlad finally spoke up from his dark corner. Right, you remember why you don’t speak to him all that often. He scared the living shit out of you. At least you can have a somewhat decent conversation with Aizawa. With Vlad King, it’s always cold-shoulders and overdramatic frustration to simple questions you ask him. Those brief few words reeked such deadly poison, as if saying that anyone could ignore you was a crime against humanity. His facial expression showed his irritation, a frown stretching down his worn features and a frustrated crinkle cut between his eyebrows.

“Thanks. I was in the middle of getting to that.” Power snarked at the behemoth hero.

“We asked All Might if he wanted to come along with us,” 13 chirped, “but he declined as well. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he’s around.”

“Yeah! Not to mention how he responded! Something like,” Mic made his voice stretch lower into his register with a profound, macho gusto, and a large smile—an All Might smile—grew on his lips, ""HA HA! I appreciate the offer, friends, but I will be alright on my own! Good luck to you! I am off!”, and ran off to who knows where. Weird!”

“You guys never let me say the important parts of the stories.” Power scowled to himself.

“Gotcha,” you acknowledged the length of explanation, “So…what happens now?” you prodded.

“Now,” Midnight coos at a distance that is yet again too close for comfort, “we get to have fun with you~.”

“WHAT?! I’m not some class pet. Find a guinea pig somewhere else!” you wriggled away from the dastardly woman.

“Endearing how much control you think you have over the situation,” Aizawa smirked. You hated his comfort in the idea of a fictional complacency, one that was only caused by your own fear of speaking against them, “Stop playing naive, (L/N).”

In an effort to distract yourself from his stare, you pressed, “What’s the big plan after all this then?”

“After what, dearest?” Midnight mused. She reached a hand to your hair and softly massaged your shoulders. Quite done with the games they played, you shook her lingering touches off.

“After the Purge is over. What do you plan to do with me?” You wanted to add a sassy ‘obviously’ somewhere in that question, but you held your tongue for now. We’ll see how long that lasts.

“Sweetie~, we plan to have you as ours!” Midnight purred, circling around you like a beast going in for the kill. You rolled your eyes—how vexing can this woman be?

“Wow! That’s so funny, I forgot to laugh.” You threw out a half-assed pity laugh for the pro. You looked at the other pros for some kind of confirmation that Midnight was just being her usual lofty self, but when no comforting gaze reached your eyes, you felt your grin crumble.

“Eh…heh. Alright, that’s how we’re playing this. All the unfunny jokes aside—Hell freaking NO am I letting you lot take me anywhere. I’m not going willingly! I kick, I scream, and I do bite. I’m feral, bitc—,” You managed to squirm hard enough that you actually broke away from whoever was holding you the tightest in the ball of limbs. You slid off the glossy table and slunk back a few feet. It was just spacious enough for you to finally get a deep breath in from the overwhelming physical affection but you were nowhere near a safe distance from the psychos of UA.

“Willingly isn’t an issue. Plenty of us have quirks that can make you submit easily. Resistance will only produce failure for you. I don’t want to be forced to hurt your miniscule feelings.” Vlad gruffed out. He truly reminded you of an English bulldog—grumpy and hard-headed to the extreme.

“Oh, be sweeter, Vlad! Don’t scare the poor thing before we’ve had our fun.” 13 tried to reason with the ice-cold man.

“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.

“No, you’re being a wet blanket,” Mic advised with a casual whistle.

“Shut up.” The white-haired man huffed out a pointed wind of air. With tusks as sharp as nails protruding out of his mouth, harsh huffs of breath that escaped his nose, and rising anger visibly seeping from his form, it made the image of him in your mind morph from cute, grumpy bulldog to a ravenous warthog.

“No, you shut up!” Power Loader lept on the chance to start bickering with Vlad King as he was still irritated at him for stealing his thunder.

“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty. Now, can we please get back to the much more pleasant person of interest?” Midnight tried to get the boys to back off, but her joke only made them that much more infuriated.

“Who’re you calling pretty?!” Vlad whipped his head over to the purple-haired sex fiend.

“Fix your words, Midnight, or I’ll give you something to be sorry for.” Vlad reared in, sneering at the woman something fierce.

“Here we go,” Aizawa muttered while shrinking further into his tall scarf tower.

“Nice one, Nemuri.” Hizashi bumped her with his elbow.

“I apologize…for you being a whiny BITCH!” You could practically see the overexaggerated sweat drop slip down the rest of the teachers’ heads as the beast of a man went off the rails from Midnight’s claim. He started stomping around, bellowing and nearly tossed a table across the room. You stood there and just…watched the man go from a professional, stoic, respectable instructor to a crybaby throwing the most dangerous tantrum known to mankind.

Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.

Would he have preferred gorgeous?

That joke, while absolutely hilarious and should have been told for at least someone to hear its magnificence, you held in your throat so you didn’t get bitch slapped by a heavy office chair and receive a one-way ticket, all-expense-paid trip to God’s doorstep. You used the teacher’s being distracted with trying to calm the raging boarman down as an opportunity to scan for available exits. They were currently blocking the only door in or out, so that way out was an absolute no-go. You looked behind you and saw another door, but it didn’t look like it would provide a fruitful escape. By process of elimination, it would most likely be another closet that had no exit—and you DID NOT want to be stuck in one of those again. It was a miracle that the one earlier tonight had one! You do not want to try your luck again with much more threatening opponents in your way.

Inspecting further, there didn’t appear to be any other doors around to scamper out of. The last option you had was the large pane windows facing the outside, normally providing you with quite a beautiful bird’s eye view of the city. While it was an escape route, the task of escaping after exiting would be less than ideal. You were currently at least six storeys off of the ground, and you couldn’t guarantee that your quirk would save you from that high of a drop. Plus, the roof was still at least a few floors upwards, so you couldn’t hang out of the window and easily grab a railing. Not that you’d be sneaky enough to do that without alerting the bickering party of adults in front of you. You weren’t sure where else you could turn to avoid a serious temper tantrum.

Shatter.

A window to the side of where you were standing abruptly splintered away. A rush of the chilled night air flooded the room with one thorough sweep. The infiltration was not caused by the window simply breaking due to a strong gust of wind or a tree branch breaking the surface. No—it turned out to be a rather unwelcome intruder.

“Heyo~,” a certain bombshell blond’s lilting tone filled the thick tension in the boardroom. Your eyes zeroed in on the hero’s iconic ruby-red wings and instantly knew who it was. Hawks! You’d seen him in the field before from a distance, even captured his attention for long enough to have a brief conversation. A certain twist in your chest wrung out the breath filling your lungs when you thought about his suave nature that day.

You were there with your three main boys the day you’d met Hawks. You had just started working at Endeavor’s agency because of the generous offer provided to you by Todoroki during the Holiday party. It was certainly kind of him to extend his hand to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You tackled him in a hug, and you watched obliviously how he nearly short-circuited at the affection. Though the day you all met up to head off, Bakugou had been acting a little salty around Shoto that afternoon after discovering that he had reached out to you too to join them, but you figured it was just usual Bakugou. Always waking up on the angry side of the bed. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s because none of them wanted to make fools of themselves in front of you. Him especially. You are quite oblivious to the “more-than-just-friends” affection they had for you, but Deku was happy keeping it that way. After a bit, the four of you had settled in together and met Shoto’s father.

No thanks to Bakugou’s “stellar” introduction with the pro, Endeavor had put his foot down to deny taking on other interns, other than his own son. Thankfully, hero work is never finished, as a villain attacked then and there. All of you sprung into action despite Endeavor’s denial, and that is when you saw it. Or, rather, him. Red spears descending from the sky like Valkyries swooping in to protect the weak. You saw soon enough that these weren’t spears, they were feathers. The winged hero, Hawks, aided Endeavor in taking down the crazed terrorizer effortlessly. No hesitancy or mercy. Not so much as a bead of sweat lining his forehead either. After recuperating, you and Izuku practically tackled the man in an effort to meet him.

In the staggeringly casual meeting, he was pleased to say he already knew about you from your close friend, Tokoyami. However, he pretty much overlooked the green-haired puffball as he stuck you down with his unnerving amber pools. Hawks suavely shared that he was especially excited to meet you specifically. We’re these most likely only sugar-coated words to get your heart racing for the notorious playboy? Rationally, absolutely. His ego knew no bounds—he’d do anything to get the fans swooning for his flippant affections. Yet, you fell for it nonetheless. You hopelessly played the perfect giddy fan as you devoured all his teasing remarks, his infatuation with your quirk, and his cocky winks. A peck of his lips strategically gifted to the back of your hand was given to no doubt solidify a good relationship, but you nearly passed out. You gushed at the attention before, and you probably would again. You were no different from any faces in his crowd of fans that he interacted with. Or so you thought.

He soon took off after meeting with Bakugou and Shoto briefly. You’d geeked out about the interaction afterwards to the boys. An blatant envy to Hawks’ ease at impressing the masses, you as well now included, made them stumble at their advances. Izuku buried his own jealousy at the hero by directing your attention back to what the rest of the day had planned, and it distracted him from the negative feelings too, thankfully. Shoto had crossed his arms and stood as a silent watcher to walk alongside you. You did catch that he was standing rather close to you. Bakugou only spat insult after insult about the bird brain and the hot-headed waste of a father, hoping that tarnishing the memory of Hawks in your mind would get your mind off of that loser and onto him. He soon cooled off, and became a bodyguard beside you, like Shoto, mumbling to himself about how “pointless” it was to chat with the likes of that douche.

You knew that this meeting was no accident. Hopefully, the hero is here to save you from this awful nightmare. Though, he didn’t show up alone.

“Hawks,” Snipe grumbled a rugged greeting, quite obviously ticked off that the snarky bastard was ruining their sanctuary, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, not here for any particular reason. Flyin’ around, stopping to smell the roses…,” he lolled his head to look right at you, a devilish smirk lining his strikingly handsome face.

“Inspecting suspicious activity in the area.” A velvety smooth voice strikes up from behind you. You jump and whip your head to the side to see the culprit. Laying a gentle, yet comforting, grip on your shoulder was the famous Rabbit Hero: Mirko. You hadn’t really gotten a chance yet to interact with her in your journey as an aspiring hero. You’d heard about her competitive nature through various interviews you’d seen her in. You’d never felt more like prey than now, underneath her sight. Nonetheless, she was even more stunning than the media could convey. Her white locks draped along your shoulder as she peered down over you, the faint scent of lavender and earthy rubble wafting into your senses. Rumi’s piercing blood-tinged irises looked down upon you with a satisfactory expression. The lingering glint of fire locked within her gaze guided you to understand that whatever was driving her on this mission to confront your captors was far from fizzling out.

You’d heard some about personal interactions with her from Bakugou and Midoriya when they worked with her in the field. Deciphering Bakugou’s turn of phrase you’ve come to be fluent in after all these years, you gauged that she wasn’t too bad of a coworker. He’d said she was strong and that she had a kick that was no joke. When Bakugou remembered something about the people he fought alongside, you knew they left some impression on him—good or bad. He did make a point to reiterate that she only “gets in his way”, but he regards everyone that way, so it’s not a huge concern. Midoriya mostly info-dumped about her quirk and every fighting tactic he’d thought up to either aid her or counter her, but you didn’t mind his ramblings. Animal-based quirks like hers were always intriguing to learn about, and you’d appreciated him taking the time to tell you all the information he’d drug out of the woman. They both agreed (shockingly) they would like to work with her again.

You asked some of the girls of 3-A what they thought of Mirko before, and were surprised when they all nearly trampled you in their freak-out fangirling over the woman. Hagakure gushed over how much she loved what Mirko was doing for the community of women in the pro hero society. She adored how Mirko showed the world that women weren’t just damsels in distress; that the power and strength they hold mentally and physically is one to behold. Mina giddily hugged your arm as she declared the hero gave her confidence to not hide any of her more eccentric or “out-of-the-norm”, as she put it, features. Momo allowed herself to become vulnerable as she shared how Mirko taught her how if others don’t have confidence in your abilities you have to be your own advocate. Perfectionism was rampant in the poor girl, and she had such high expectations for herself. Seeing Momo learning to be more gentle with herself was comforting.

 Jiro and Uraraka explained all the ways she really was a fantastic figure for women, not simply aspiring heroes, to look up to. Strong, snarky, never afraid to throw a quick insult or punch to any ignorant when she needed to. Mirko was not known to be a passive presence; she made sure you know exactly what her opinion on any matter is when she gets in your face to tell you it. Since she wasn’t attached to an agency, most would think she’d be an outcast, but they’d be wrong. The girls told you how she was a lone wolf type, that she’d rather handle everything her own way. You admired her for that. Mirko’s belief of not fitting in with the crowd to instead be at the front lines of encouraging others to break the mold society says you should fit is one to be coveted.

“How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Mirko warmly asked you. You froze when you heard your name fall from her lips. How did she know you? You’d never met face-to-face before in your life! She’s even prettier than the photos snapped by her paparazzi could try to convey.

“Are these guys giving you any trouble~?” Hawks ruffled your hair as he sprouted up next to you like a daisy in a sunny meadow. You felt your face heat up at their actions, not getting used to the unwavering attention of such prestigious members of the Hero Agencies. Also, they’re two of the most gorgeous people in all of Japan. Even a sparse glance in someone’s direction would be enough to make anyone crumple to their knees—nevermind that they’re actually addressing you. You were having a hard time standing up on your own, knees wobbly and jittery, your eyes bouncing back and forth between the two in a fumbling manner. All you could think about was not making a total fool of yourself in front of your heroes. That’s about when you realized you hadn’t responded to them, leaving everyone listening with bated breath at your silence.

You wanted to slap yourself for the silly star-struck reaction, “Oh! I–um…,”

“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Surprisingly, Cementoss’ usual composed tone took a frozen turn. Guess he didn’t appreciate the two of them being here. In fact, it looked to be that most of the teachers in that room didn’t care much for the pros being present, all of them having a crinkled up forehead and scowles dotting their lips. That, or the frustration is from the broken window. Whoops.

“They’d feel more fine if you’d back off.” Vlad King, who had finally calmed down, cautioned the duo. Though he’d cooled off his ramage, you could see the irritated vein popping out underneath his skin, so another outburst was sure to loop back around. Whether it was expressed in a hunched posture, snippy tone, or the expression on their faces; the teachers all agreed on one thing. These two were trouble and had to be escorted away from their darling now.

“Yeesh! What a tough crowd, Mirko!” Hawks overdramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. He leaned his body backwards, grasping his other hand over his chest where his heart lies, and wailed out in a helpless maiden-like tone. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he’s such a drama queen. It’s silly, but also somewhat charming, in a way.

“Ha! Seems so, Hawks. Hey, chill out, we’re only here to play babysitter, old timer.” Mirko snickered to herself. Hawks joined in her light-hearted teasing with a bright chortle of his own. His laugh formed from a cluster of tiny clicks rattling through his teeth.

“...What was that, little lady?” Vlad’s temper was never one to back down as he cracked his knuckles. You felt Mirko’s hand clasp tighter around your shoulder at Vlad’s choice of words. You could tell she wanted to go off on him and rip him to shreds both verbally and physically, but held her tongue. Now was not the time to start a war.

“Eh, don’t take it so personally, King! She was just pointing out the obvious~,” Hawks egged the man on. Seems to be Hawks didn’t agree with the “no war” idea. You were beginning to get a bit nervous with the pros’ language. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the boar man’s tantrum, as previously mentioned, so why were they purposefully lighting his fuse?! At least move you out of the way first before digging their own grave! Though, you might get pushed into it with them when you can’t dodge their crossfire.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 13 sneered at the shade.

“You’re all…wise from all your experiences,” words posing as carefully chosen by Hawks no doubt fired up the two more.

“But (Y/N) needs protection from a fresher-faced cast. If you catch our drift~,” Mirko finished for her quick-witted partner.

“That is why you’re all gathered, right? For the Purge?” Hawks anything but innocently asked the group. Those who weren’t lost in their own rage showed a glimpse of hesitation in the answer. Hawks, willing to take a mile from the inch they gave him, ran with their slip-up.

“So, it is true. Judging by the switch in your behaviors, and from that out of the ordinary hue in your irises, seems to me like this lot caught the illness. Probably from those students bulldozing through the school. Can you believe it, Mirko?” Hawks swiftly closed the little distance between you two by slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“I can. They’ve been in such close proximity, it’s no wonder they caught it. I’m just disappointed. They’re supposed to protect people like our lovely (Y/N) here from these incidents. Instead, they’re fueling the catastrophe Hmm. You must’ve been so scared running away from these shit excuses for teachers.” Mirko brought her hand to your cheeks and pinched them together to make your lips pout outward.

“Hey! You know that’s bull—,” Power Loader barked as he leaned across a nearby table.

“What were you sickos planning to do with them, huh? Make them your slave after this night,” Hawks unapologetically interrupted the man, a silence washing over the room at the question being sprung, “Force them to be at your beck and call for everything? Splay their body out to satisfy your needs whenever and wherever you wanted? Disgusting.” Hawks veered his body in front of yours to shield it with one of his huge red wings. The more he talked about what your captors would do to you after the Purge, the more fear reeved up to course through your veins. While thinking about the possibilities of what would happen after the Purge if you were caught, Hawks’ accusations had crossed your mind, but you tried to ignore them earlier. They wouldn't…they’d respect your wishes even if you…belonged to them after all this! They—not your friends, nor your teachers—wouldn’t do those horrible things to you.

And yet, based on everything that’s happened thus far…

You’re not sure anymore.

You shrunk into Mirko’s side deeper, wishing to disappear from the conversation of your fate entirely. You felt her wrap an arm around your waist, and you felt safer with the basically strangers than you had all night long with your long-time partners. You wanted to cry from the relief of finally having somewhere safe to turn. You held the tears back to see where their confrontations would lead.

You felt Mirko lead your stiff body with fleeting strides. She was obviously trying to give you an out, so you went willingly. Just let them do as they please. Anything to get out of this suffocating mess. Hawks caught on to her.

“How dare you try to make those foolish claims against us,” Aizawa began, rage climbing high in his heart. He reached for his infamous scarf and pulled the end piece out, preparing for his attack. Screw playing nice. Screw relying on others. Fuck letting these idiots walk all over him. The nerve of this flashy waste of space dictating him to be the kind of monster that would take advantage of you. You’d been in his life for so long now that he hardly even tries to remember the times without you and his other students. So many tough challenges your class has faced, and yet, each hurdle was leapt over with no hesitation. Your entire class had brought him such joy over the years through the sorrow. His kids. However, you and Shinsou undoubtedly claimed the prize to share the number one spot on his favorites list. You’d been so attentive and caring over him when he’d left you to flounder for air. Late nights powering through boring essays, countless assignments completed only an hour before they were due, the weekend study sessions that almost always turned into game nights or gossiping over snacks that he’d seen you participate in with your other friends. You work so tirelessly to be a good student and attentive friend. That effort wasn’t unnoticed by his watchful eye.

There were many more less impactful moments shared that, dare he say, mean even more to him than the death-defying acts you’d survived together. Chats over the positive current life events with him drinking his standard cup of muddy brown coffee and you casually sipping your own beverage. Walks around campus with him, Midoriya, Tokoyami, Ojiro, and you. The sky gleaming a dazzling aqua blue with the sun sparkling overhead, but not in an overwhelming glare. Puffy clouds dancing in the air. A pleasant, flowery breeze twirling past you. One late night in the common room when he was making his last round to make sure everyone was securely in their dorms, he found you sitting on the couch brushing off the aggressive tears slipping down your cheeks.

When he’d made his presence known that night, you’d shot up like a fired bullet off the comfy sofa, scrubbing your puffy eyes in an attempt at covering up the residual cry session. You’d greeted him warmly with a laughing cough to hide your choked up throat, but he shut down your plan of concealment by hinting that he’d already seen your sadness flowing. That night he sat beside you and talked. Talked about what you were upset about, talked through your doubts, fears, and resentment over how you didn’t know what you were going to do now. Gave you a sorrow-filled look when you broke down into a fit of violent sobs again. He even sat with you in a lingering, but reassuring, silence after your sobs faded.

Only then did Aizawa release a sliver of his own castle walls to give you a hug holding as much love as he could spare from his withered and beaten heart. He told you many ways how your class had changed him to be a better man. How you inspired him to keep pushing himself to look ahead to what beauty the future could hold. Aizawa promised you that night that no one was going to abandon you like you’d feared. He promised to always be there for you whenever you needed his support. All he needed was for you to reach out, and he’d claw up any bit of strength he had left to come rescue you like the hero he promised Oboro and Hizashi he would become. Today was no different from back then.

These fakes weren’t going to tarnish his cherished memory of that night with you. That night, when you’d smiled back up at him with a wobbly grin and soggy eyes, now glistening with hope from his words, you should have known he wouldn’t let some nobodies crush your heart. These wretches didn’t stand a chance.

Power Loader cut Aizawa off to continue, “We would never. Stop trying to scare them like that!”

13, back to her reasonable self, even tried coaxing you, “(Y/N), they are lying. We would never betray you. Now, if you’d please come back here—,”

Feeling bolder with allies at your side, you forced your lips to move to stop their rambling lies, “Why should I believe a single word that comes out of any of your mouths?!” The room fell into stillness. It was as if the whole world had shut itself up to give you the stage to speak your mind.

Fed up and running off of pure adrenaline, you continued, “None of you have asked for my opinion on anything that has happened tonight. You don’t care what I have to say; all you give a shit about is doing whatever the fuck you want to me. You didn’t tell me what you were planning. You spied on me, you kidnapped me, and kept me stuck in this hell as your little hostage all night!

“Even if you did care about me, it was only to find out what you could gain from me for your selfish desires.” You downcasted your eyes at their knife-like glares.

Tears welled up and this time you couldn’t stop them from dragging down your tired face. You took a shaky breath to fill your deflated lungs, “I…I understand this virus has…changed you. I understand whatever you’re going through isn’t easy to fight against. But I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to any of you. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing. I just…can’t know. I’m too scared to even try to begin searching for the answer. My classmates have become the same as you—completely changed from who they are. They’ve been hunting me down. And now this thing has taken my teachers too?” Your lips wobbled at the realization of your loss.

“Ha…it’s like one sick joke the world is playing against me,” an exasperated laugh bled from your vocal chords, “I don’t know how it’s making you feel, but I know what it is making you do to me. You’re scaring me. I don’t feel safe. Around any of you. It isn’t crazy to consider you’d force me to do…other things too.”

You caught Aizawa’s eyes when you looked up. You turned away to save yourself from the heartbreak of his torn expression.

You curled into Hawks’ back, shrouding your emotional husk of a body in his fluffy feathers. You allowed the last few dying words left in your quaking heart to wheeze out, “Please. Leave me alone. Please.” Whether your teachers were mad at you for speaking against them, or if they wanted to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness, you had no clue. All you know is that Hawks whips around, gathers your trembling form in his arms, and takes a couple of steps back from Mirko.

“Hang on tight.” He gently whispers to you. Unconsciously, you obeyed, and securely held onto the fizzy collar of his iconic jacket.

“We’ll be watching over them for the rest of the Purge.” That cold, nonchalant jab to the teachers was the last fleeting acknowledgment Mirko threw at them. Hawks spread his wings.

“Next time, before you go destroying the mental and emotional well-being of your students, get a grip on reality.” The finality of Hawks’ tone was filled with all the venom that he felt you lovingly held back. Your kindness is not what this lot deserves. With that, he flapped his humongous wings a few times to kickstart his ascension and took off with you pressed tightly against him. He soared up and out of the broken window, making sure to cover you properly so you didn’t get sliced or stabbed by any broken glass. You watched Mirko clamber out of the rickety window from over his shoulder, land on the edge of the concrete window sill, and use her legs to jump as high into the air as she could.

You watched in awe as she practically flew up several storeys, confidently grasp the edge of the railing atop the roof, and gently sling herself onto the roof without so much as a hiccup. Judging by the trajectory of where Hawks was flying, he too was aiming for the roof. Not like you cared at this point. As long as you were away from them, you’d be fine to go anywhere they took you.

“We at Air Hawks thank you for flying with us on this gorgeous evening, esteemed passenger. We have now reached our destination, the rooftop of the illustrious UA High. The weather outside is clear skies at a balmy 75°, so you may see a stunning view of the city tonight. Please take care and follow your charming, ever good-looking pilot as he will guide you towards the exit.” Hawks cracked a light joke to try and pull you out of the dark headspace you were currently dwelling inside. You spared him a half-hearted giggle for his attempt, allowing him to release the hold his hands had on the backs of your knees. You plopped your feet down softly to the ground just as Mirko had made it over.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Mirko held out her hands, her gaze trained on Sero’s tape that was still wound snugly around your wrists. Wow. You’d entirely forgotten they were still there. You lifted your wrists to the admirable woman and merely watched as she took your already reddening wrists into hers.

“Honestly. What barbarians. To leave you bound like this? Complete bullshit.” Mirko muttered insult after insult under her breath as she wasted no time in destroying the binding. She took your wrists up to her mouth and carefully chomped down using her steely, rabbit-esque front teeth on the strips to make a sizable cut through them. She gently pulled your wrists apart and the tape effortlessly split. Free, at last.

Using your fingers, you tore away the remaining severed strips with a wince, and threw them to the ground. Battered and bruised, you saw that your wrists were nearing raw from how much struggling against the tape’s adhesive you’d done. You gave a quick massage to stimulate blood flow back into your numbing fingertips.

“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.

“Much. Thank you for getting me out of there. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a cooler getaway than two of the top pro heroes in Japan being my saviors.” you tossed a light joke in along with the gratitude. You yanked the two pros into your chest with a tight hug to further show your thanks, taking a deep breath against their chests. They were rigid at first, but they both allowed themselves. However, while being this close, they couldn’t help but notice the sweet smell drifting off of your clothing. There was little the pros could do to avoid the intoxicating aroma, but before they could delve further into what it was, they heard a tiny sniffle sound from your buried head.

With an alertness to you that he hadn’t felt before, Hawks pulled you away from his chest with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s up, baby bird?” Hawks were much more determined than he had been all night to get you to open up about what was going on in your brain.

Not looking up from the ground to respond, he placed his fingertips underneath your chin and tilted your bent head up. You had a thread of silvery tears lining your lower lash line and a wobbly lip that made both Mirko and Hawks’ aggravation boil their blood.

“Hon, tell us what’s wrong.” Mirko commanded. She could barely contain the loathing that spiderwebbed throughout her heart. When she gets her hands on those measly heroes who mistreated you, she is going to make them wish they’d never bothered you with their worthless existence ever again. Lousy maggots. Just as Mirko’s mind was going to float off the deep end into disturbing plans of vile and ruthless methods of punishment, she caught herself.

Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.

No, the aggressiveness was not new. She’d always had a bit of spark to her. Her wild thoughts are what made her such a great hero; that’s how Mirko became widely recognized for her prowess. It was who she was having the ruthless feelings against that surprised her. She’s worked with those pros, her coworkers and friends, for years. She barely knows you at all. Yet, she’s planning every possible way she could make the insolent, ignorant gang pay for their mistreatment.

Although, why should that fact matter? Why shouldn’t they pay? Sure, they’re her friends, but they abused an innocent. They forcefully used their quirks and position of power over you to make you suffer! It’s despicable. It’s dishonorable. They should face the punishment of the law. But…that isn’t enough. Her rationality slips, drifting further away the longer she feels you warm her. It fuels a fire within her, and that fire sets the marrow lining her bones a light. She doesn’t want to toss the aggressors off to the police like a spineless coward. You deserve better than that. You deserve more. You deserve justice. She is justice. Technically, she is the law. She will make them pay. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!

God, she hasn’t felt this warmth in a long time. Too long. You’re wonderful.

Hawks isn’t faring any better. He’s wild-eyed—his mind deep sketching out the framework of delusional fantasies of him taking you on as his trainee, showing you all the tips and tricks he’s learned in the harsh world of hero life, and quite literally taking you under his wing. Maybe you two become more after you get closer. Keigo isn’t unfamiliar with the desire of wanting companionship in his life. He often finds himself daydreaming of a partner by his side, on and off the field of battle. Never a specific person, just a faceless, nameless being, fluttering through his desires. Smiling, laughing, enjoying each other's time together. Cute stuff. Hawks yearns for that small sliver of normalcy. Keigo wants to feel human—to feel whole again after everything he’s been stripped of in his miserable existence.

With you, even though your interactions have been brief and you’ve endured some light flirting of his that is barely considerably mentionable, you’ve brought him nothing but a comforting and loving feeling. He feels indebted to you for simply being you. Not lying to him, or trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly surrounded by deceptive and cruel human nature. He truly couldn’t tell you how many thousands of googly-eyed newbies have introduced themselves to him, praying for even a small flicker of his fame to rub off on them. Hoping to use him to spring them up into the actually noticeable charts. It’s so easy to read them too. They’re open, flimsy magazines. Bright, colorful, eye-catching, and full of back-stabbing and strategically fabricated lies. Spread wide and pleading for him to flip through their pages. They always hiss lies through their teeth, grinning and bearing the once-in-a-lifetime interaction. But no matter how much sucking up they commit to or how well they try to veil the truth of their intentions behind sugared words, he never fails to see through them.

Guess the training he went through as a child was good for something. If you don’t open up to people, you can never get hurt. Sure, that tactic has worked wonders…up until meeting you.

But he’s just so tired. He just wants to lower the railing and find something worth all the fight he puts up.

You might be his outlet.

“It’s…it’s just been a long night. I’m sorry—,” you tried to cover your face with your forearm, desperate to conceal the embarrassing honest showing on your face. Mirko gently removed your shield with a comforting smile.

“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”

“Never ever apologize for your feelings—,” both pros stumbled over each other’s words. When they realized they were getting anywhere by interrupting the other, they shared a look. After a small nod shared, they wrapped their arms around you again.

“You’re okay,” they both said at the same time, cradling you against them once again. You snuggled deeper, taking that chance to breathe deep and avoid spiraling into a panic attack.

While your arms were around the two, you accidentally brushed against Hawks’ wings. That is when you noticed his wings had puffed up in size, similar to how any bird does when they want to appear bigger to a threat they face. He had been very tense at the beginning of the hug, so maybe he was only nervous, so you chose to not question it. Plus, you’d just let a room full of deadly pro heroes! Yeah, it’s alright. However, the light thudding taps of Rumi’s foot against the concrete roof was something you couldn’t explain. Is it normal for hybrid rabbits to emulate this characteristic from their bunny counterparts? You’re not too sure.

You tried to pull away, but their tight grips didn’t let you. Oh. Well, maybe they’re both in desperate need of a hug. You’re very familiar with your classmates coming to you for hugs during their rougher days. They always said you had the best hugs, and you take great pride in that fact. Come to think of it, maybe you should ask them all about their mental health more often, just so no one spirals off the deep end and punches another classmate (thank you for that, Bakugo).

OH! Your friends! Maybe Hawks and Mirko can help them! Yes, that’s a great plan.

Peeling further back, you tilted your head up to look them in their eyes. You let out an airy chuckle, “As much as I enjoy the hug, I need some more of your help.”

They instantly lightened their steely grips. Not too much to let you slip away. Mirko held a smug look, as if knowing you’d come crawling back to her for her aid. SHe’s the only one who can provide for you properly, afterall. Don’t worry, let her handle everything for her darling. No task is too big for her. Hawks resembled that of a grinning puppy, excited and warm. Eager to perform any task for praise and treats. Yes! Anything you want, darling, they can provide! What do you need?

They didn’t supply you with a verbal answer, but the looks they carried spoke loud enough, so you continued, “My classmates. I don’t know what happened to my friends, but they’ve got the same thing the teachers do. I think everyone’s infected. I have to help them, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

As soon as they heard you utter the word “friends”, their bliss was shot and struck the ground like a wounded songbird. Their brains shut off to stop the nonsense you were suggesting. Friends? You need people other than them?! And what’s worse, is you want them to help those idiots?! Last they checked, they were public enemy number one for making you run yourself ragged up and down those endless halls! No, that can’t be right. Those fools don’t deserve their help. Not for what they made you go through.

“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.

The rest of the sentence you were sputtering falters. You gaze up at the rabbit hero, “...What?”

With a second look-over, Mirko appears a lot scarier than she did only minutes beforehand. Have her eyes always been this clouded? Her unrelenting gaze exudes a darker inkling than when you’d faced her way. Rumi’s eyes stuck on you like gum bonded to the bottom of your shoe.

No. This wouldn’t happen again. They said they’d be better than this—better than them.

Hawks obnoxiously cleared his throat to brush the eerie vibe away from the floundering conversation, “Ehh…haha! What Rumi means is not right now. It’s too dangerous to go searching for your friends now. Finding help for them after the Purge settles down is the safest strategy.” Hawks smoothly saved Mirko’s ass with the perfect excuse, served up on a shining silver platter. You didn’t appreciate how obviously strained Hawks’ tone became at “friends”.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe. Preferably away from this shithole.” She mumbled the last portion, keeping the snark to her own chest, but her contempt for the institution was blatant. Mirko’s eyes were laced with flaming venom as she fleetingly paid attention to the concrete walls. A sneer broke out on her lips, as if just the idea of standing on top of the building was a sin itself.

“Ah… okay.” You tried to leave the hug again. They persisted.

“Mirko—,” Hawks’ voice twisted into a demanding tone. His blown out, puppy-like pupils cinched into vicious slits, staring down the woman.

“Hawks, I don’t want to hear it. Back off.” Mirko gnashed back at the blond. The two began an all out war against each other, both tugging against the other’s advances. A tug to the left, a drag to the right, both parties were unrelenting. Neither wanted to allow the victory of having you in their arms.

“You’re holding them too tightly!” Keigo whined.

“Well, you’re not holding them tight enough.” Mirko argued back. You’ve seen this before. It reminded you of two children fighting over who got to play with which toy, always bickering how the other was “doing it wrong”. It reminded you of Ochaco fighting the guys. It reminded you of Denki and Mina struggling over who got to hold you. Childish squabbles.

Liars, the lot of them. They didn’t want to help you. If they did before, not anymore. They’re infected, there’s no other answer for their behavior.

“Keigo, just stop it! You and I both know that you can’t protect them.” Mirko snarked. That caught the bird’s attention judging by the way his eyes dug into her, all emotion scrapped from his expression. A grim look stole the spot, one that told of violence and mayhem running rampant in behind his eyes. An expression usually reserved for the villains he so often made easy prey of. This is awful.

“And what is that supposed to mean, rabbit?” Hawks’ eyes looked wilder than before.

“I think you and I both know what I meant.” She snarked back, ruffling his feather figuratively and quite literally.

“Be honest with yourself. When was the last time you were able to save something that you actually cared about?” Mirko hatched a devilish plan. She took the chance of his loss of temper to clutch you against her. She took a couple spacious leaps back, creating a sizable distance between her friend turned enemy. Hawks plucked two giant feathers from his wingspan that sharped out into duo blades resembling two scimitars.

“I’m done being—,” just before Hawks could spiral off the deep end into whatever hell he had planned to put Mirko through, a disturbance crashed the party.

“Enough, you two.” A formidable voice shook from the shadows. Those few words are all it takes for the two beside you to back off from tearing out each other’s throats. Whoever it was had the ability to command total control of a room in an instant. You couldn’t see them, but you knew the voice came from the other side of the stairwell exit.

“Great,” Mirko scoffs, tilting her head to look the other way with a cross of her arms. You couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or the shame from being caught. Judging by her scowl, it’s probably the latter.

“Endeavor…how long have—,” Hawks sputtered out. You swivel your head to the gap at the birdman. No fucking way it’s the number one hero. He’s gotta be wrong. The number one pro hero showing up to participate in the Purge is unheard of. Guess you’d be wrong. Though, you suppose that even the number one gets a pass during today. It’s just jarring since All Might had not once in all his years of being the symbol of peace even be seen during the Purge hours. He probably just didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal with the news or social media if he were to ever be discovered converting to be a player of the Purge’s game.

Sure enough though, the one who rounds the corner is in fact Endeavor. He shut Hawks up with a simple raise of his palm and an unforgiving glare. The once cheery hawk tucks into himself and shields his frustration away from the number one.

The first thing that shows you the reality of the situation is his overwhelming stature. You severely underestimated the way this man takes up a room. Seeing him in TV interviews on the news and fighting against villains is one thing, but it is a completely different beast to be face-to-face with him stalking towards you. It made sense why he was deemed the top—with such a suffocating aura, it was hard to believe that any villain even tried to oppose the behemoth. You should know, you’ve met him before.

During your training with him alongside the boys, it had been quite the feat. You’d mostly done in-field training with the boys, but the one time you did have one-on-one training with the pro was unnerving, to say the least. Endeavor had watched your every move, his eyes never straying too far from where you’d displayed the extent of your Quirk’s usefulness. You knew you were as capable, even more so since you could control your emotions, as Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki. Let’s face it, all three of them had a tendency to act out far too irrationally due to their urges and feelings, and they weren’t shy about expressing it. Although, your self control put you in a favorable light with Endeavor, so it wasn’t strange that he gave more of his attention to you.

Instead of bickering and combating everything the pro said with a harsh glower like Katsuki had, you listened intently and gave Endeavor undivided attention. Instead of ignoring the man who actively tried to give pointers and choosing to walk faster ahead of the group like Shoto had, you hung back and asked questions about what Shoto had done wrong in his approach and how to improve his strategy. You became more agile, better aware of your surroundings, and able to predict some of the moves villains would try to throw at you. You understood that the opportunity that Shoto had given to you all with training under his father for the work-study was not something to be taken lightly. Was the man a little too much of a hardass for your taste? Yes. But he was not a pushover. He had valuable lessons to teach you all from experiences he’s faced during his years in the field. If you wanted to actually place in the hero charts one day, you knew you’d have to get past your own opinions on the man and try to cooperate.

If someone asked your opinion of Endeavor, they’d understand he’s not your favorite hero to grace the charts. You’d believed him to be startlingly cold for the fiery nature of his quirk. It was easy to say you’d originally thought him to be nothing but an ass with too hot of a head on his shoulders, and while that was still the truth more often than not, he had his moments of clarity. The media did have a knack for stringing up the moments of his ill temper caught on film and making them the headline of every social media platform. What you had learned during your trainings held at the crack of dawn was that he was extremely precise. There was never a lack of communication or any doubt held within his words whenever he instructed you. Swing a right hook into the dummy’s torso. Sweep your leg to the left to knock the opponent over. He was straight to the point and earnest in the compliments regarding your physical improvements.

He’d even let you spar against him one day. Endeavor had taken the four of you and one of his many sidekicks, Burnin, to the rooftop during one of the few freetimes you’d actually had. He asked you to step across from him and get into your fighting position. He instructed no quirks be used, that it be purely a hand-to-hand combat session that balanced skill and strength together. With Burnin as the referee, you’d begun. He thankfully didn’t go easy on you as he views not giving his all into any task as a “halfass lazy excuse”, so you’d fight with your entire being against Endeavor. He educated the four of you through commentating on all of the things you did wrong; how you’d left yourself open to a couple of jabs from him, turned your back to him often enough that he’d seized an opportunity to lunge and knock you over, and such. Though you were outmatched in a number of categories, you soon understood why he was putting you to this impossible challenge. Enji wanted you to get creative with your tactics to take down your foe. You needed to outwit his strength.

With the newfound spark of inspiration, you struck. You made a move imitating that of one you’d tried against him earlier. A simple left hook. He knew he could easily deflect the punch, so he took the bait. You’d noticed before that he was much more sturdy with his right side, which left room for error on his left, so you took the chance. You sidestepped into his peripheral and closed in behind him. You kicked in the back of his right knee, forcing him to stumble to the ground. You knew you couldn’t tackle the man over from this position, nor could you keep him pinned there due to how much force you had to use to kick his knee alone, so you went with the quickest option. You needed to hit a weak point, but since his body was covered in mostly muscle, you only had a few options. Since kicking him in the groin seemed like too cruel for a simple sparring session, the spots above his neck would have to do. You jumped up onto his back, shimmied up enough to hang onto his shoulder, and threw a hard punch right into his throat.

You left him choking on his air and wheezing. He grasped at his neck, steadying himself on his other arm. Leaving him no hands to defend against your assault. You then shoved your hands into his hair, pulled on the strands tightly, and swung your body forward over the man’s shoulder. You let gravity handle the rest. Your body weight pulled his unstable torso forward and he hit the ground with a hefty SMACK! You bent your knees to land sturdily on the ground with minimal impact to your footing and let his face take the brunt of the fall. You then placed your knee hard on the middle of his shoulder blades to pin him and Burnin deemed the match completed with an impressed grin lilting on her face. Admittedly, for the rest of that day, you gloated the pride you felt at taking down the mountain of a man a little too obviously.

You knew that day he most likely wanted to make an example out of you when he presumed you wouldn’t win the fight, but you’d made sure he understood not to fuck around with you or your generosity again.

Zooming back to the present, you caught his eyes goring a hole right through you. Brilliant aqua blue irises stuck out like a sore thumb against his smoldering flames. No matter how much Shoto tried to deny the fact, he truly was Endeavor’s child. That striking blue color kept locked down within the Endeavor lineage and fiery red hair that draped over half of his head was unmistakable. Features that, however much wasted on the shitty attitude the man possessed, would make many and most fall head-over-heels for their stunning effect. Though, in your opinion, Shoto wore the beauty better.

Enji’s gaze was harsh towards you, but it was kind compared to the one he shot at Mirko’s arm wrapped around you. Perceptive, the woman held you closer, as if trying to defy his silent demand of releasing you. She was dead set on not going down without a fight. Before she could hope for one to begin, Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder as a soft hint to not involve you in Endeavor’s unrivaled wrath. Mirko knew he was right. Dammit it all. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she relented, back off of you. She left you to fend for yourself against the beast, cast you aside to the big bad wolf who wouldn’t spare you. It reminded you of the tale of Odysseus facing off with Polyphemus—only you were unarmed and lacking a foolproof plan of escape and this giant won’t allow arrogance to be his downfall yet again like the monster from the epic had.

Finally, Endeavor was right in front of you. If you had any bravery left from the night, it vanished wholly with him staring you down. Endeavor hardly even spared a tilt of his head to gaze down upon you, opting to stare through a half-lidded examination. The only indication that he was human and not some freaky Terminator cyborg from the future coming to hunt you down was the ever-present scowl he’s so fond of sharing.

Without ever taking his sight off of you, he glowered dryly to an unidentified listener, “Why are they scratched up?” You see now the question is not for you, rather it's dedicated to the duo in charge of you. You peered down to see what he was referring to, only now understanding what he meant from the bruises beginning to bloom along your wrists and the miniscule scratches littering your forearms and neckline. None of them were deep enough to lance more than a couple drops of blood, but they were still oozing fresh from the night’s escapades.

“That wasn’t from us! The students were dragging them back-and-forth between the halls before the teachers got a hold of them. You know how rough kids are with their toys.” Hawks quickly presented to the man. Smooth as ever. He strolled over to Endeavor to lean his elbow against the man’s bulky side, as if casually resting against an alleyway’s grimy brick wall. Although, with how stocky the pro was, you’re sure the feeling was probably akin. You watched Endeavor roll his eyes at the blond.

“I’m sure hurling them through a window had nothing to do with the scratches.” Endeavor’s sarcasm hung heavy in the air like too much icing on a dry piece of cake. It was obvious that his comedic side hadn’t been brushed up on in awhile. He took the chance to use an unexpected gentleness to grasp your forearm and hold up the damaged skin to the duo as all the evidence he needed. You, not taking too kindly to being an item for presentation, pulled your arm away from him and held it close. Endeavor shot you a look of disappointment, but held in the trembling Armageddon he had planned. Hawks gave a weak chuckle, no doubt scrounging for a way to veer the conversation off them scaling the side of a building with you.

Endeavor decided to spare you for now, choosing to cross his arms and acknowledge only Hawks, “What’s their status? Who in the school is infected? How many are after them?”

You were starting to get sick of him completely ignoring the fact that you had your own voice to speak for your own wellbeing. “You know I can speak for myself, right? Or have you forgotten that since we last hung out.” Hawks shot you a look that yelled “shut up” like a parent two seconds away from scolding their child who is screaming in public. You didn’t cower. You pressed on to challenge Endeavor’s authority.

“I’m aware. But I understand if I speak to you, you’ll probably end up whining like a child to me. Wasting my time.” Endeavor threw no more than a half-hearted stern crinkle of his brows, and you pretty much could no longer hold back the bubbling anger swelling up in your chest.

“Excuse me! It’s not ‘whining’, it’s called ‘being a sane person with reasonable concerns’. Also, no shit I would complain! Your little underlings were literally just fighting over who was going to kidnap me! That is a perfect reason to yell.” You waltzed your way in front of him to be a human barrier to get in the way of his sight being fixated on Hawks. You will make yourself heard against this bully. Screw it if he trained you, you don’t just ignore someone you’re actively talking about when they are right in front of you! It’s incredibly rude.

“I don’t have time for this,” Endeavor rubbed temples with one hand. You wanted to rip his head off and shout from the rooftops into his eardrums. Maybe that would get your point through his thick skull.

“Wow. First of all, fuck you,” That certainly caught his attention. His head snapped to look down at your defiance. His eyes bore that same look he’d struck Mirko’s arm with before. Boiling hysteria and bitterness. Even though you physically felt the warmth of his internal temperature rise, and you recognized the panic Hawks held in his gob-smacked expression, you couldn’t stop your big mouth from prattling on. Shoto probably would have laughed his ass off at your opposition to his father. That small support in the back of your mind made your confidence soar.

“Second of all, you can’t seriously think that I am going to be chill with anything you wei—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence before you were all of the sudden no longer touching the roof. The collar of your shirt had been snatched by Endeavor’s strong hand with no warning and hoisted high. You were now dangling limply a few feet off the ground. Keigo was squawking figuratively and literally, yanking on Endeavor’s arm to lower the leverage he held your body at. Rumi took a turn for the worst. Threats cranked out of her mouth as she reared up to kick him as hard as she could square in an area where the sun didn't shine. Maybe give him a taste of his own brutality. With an unyielding and unforgiving hold, he lifted you even higher with no strenuous effort. You yelped, swinging and writhing around to try escaping the brute strength of your foe. He brought you in close to look at you eye-to-eye, making sure your darting gaze has nowhere to turn to other than locking in to meet his own icy pair.

“You will not speak to me like that again. Your attitude might be cute to the rest of these weak links, but I won’t let it go without correction. You show me respect, or we will both have to go through a punishment for you that neither of us will enjoy. This is your first and final warning.” Every word was uttered with nothing but truth. No twist of a joke in his tone, no shift in expression, nothing. Only a foreboding aura and the gravely tone that demanded full cooperation.

Every snappy response died on your tongue. You wanted to fight back, to sass all of them more, to tell him exactly what you thought of him to his stupid, scary face—but nothing came. You felt tears line your waterline, and you couldn’t despise them more. Crying when faced with any kind of opposition…what kind of hero does that make you? You couldn’t explain why your mind drifted to Midoriya in this moment when all hope was lost.

You suppose it’s because you recall a day when the boy had tried to deny his waterworks and his friends carried his tears with grace and love. Deku had been sent off to his work-study with the man he’d called ‘Sir Nighteye’. You didn’t know much about the man, in all honesty, but you did know that one of the strongest students at UA had been training underneath him for some time. The sweet boy named Mirio who had come to meet your class and then single handedly swept you all in a twenty-to-one match. He was quite impressive, so the fact that Midoriya had been taken on to work alongside him was quite the honor!

However, Midoriya came back rather…startled, to say the least. He hardly participated in conversations held around him, didn’t speak up during the lectures, and could barely choke down the food placed in front of him either. His eyes were clouded, a scrunched up twist pulled on his eyebrows like he was stuck in a maze of his own thoughts. He looked far into the distance yet couldn’t process what was in front of him. It was scary. Where did the boy always eager to learn and help everyone drift off to? You wanted him back.

The situation came to a head one day at lunch when you were sitting across from the green-haired boy, Iida, and Shoto. You’d all tucked into your meals when you noticed Midoriya had no intention of even attempting to stomach the spread. Shoto had shockingly tried to crack a very dry joke, and that seemed to wake the distant boy. After brushing off all of your concerns for the nth time, Iida finally challenged Deku’s false reassurance. He’d offered an ear to listen to the boy’s troubles. A simple gesture, most would assume, but it hit the boy hard. Midoriya had tried to keep it in, but the boy just couldn’t hold back his emotions—a fact of which you admired to this day. He tried to claim that heroes don’t cry while he actively swiped away the drips trailing from his evergreen eyes, but you watched as Iida and Shoto shut down that statement quickly. It’s such an easy thing to say but a hard skill to execute. Of course heroes cry! Anyone who doesn’t when facing the nightmarish terrors that they do on a daily basis is lying or too stone cold to be considered human.

You watched as the boys bonded over the spilt emotions and a grin overtook your face the entire rest of the day. No one at that table knew what Deku was going through with poor Eri and the vile Overhaul situation. You hadn’t a clue the true reason Iida had extended his hand to the shaken boy that day. But it didn’t matter. Izuku let his tears and strength glow bright that day. Tears are a symbol of actually giving a shit in this world. Tears you shed are the wordless tale you share with the world. Speaking a thousand words in all different orders. A labyrinth that can be solved or failed, depending on how your own soul understands the riddle. You’re still scouring that maze to comprehend your own salty snivels.

“Understood?” The three heroes stilled, waiting for your response. Wordlessly, you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling, looking away from the man to not give the satisfaction of his actions actually scaring you, and nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt of contempt and lowered you back down to the cement. Hawks flitted over to your side, checking you over. Mirko didn’t exactly come running to you but she did make a point of standing in between Endeavor and you.

“You’ll see why we must do this soon, (Y/N). This life is just too risky for someone like you,” he looked like he wanted to say more to you, but held his tongue. You wished he’d just crawl back to whatever shithole he climbed out of and fester there for the atrocious attempt at playing the “comforting” father role.

He meant it, you know. Enji sees you choose to not look beyond his past. Much like his sons. Not that he can blame any of you. But, for some reason, the abandonment of trust hurt more from you than it did Shoto.

Enji could tell you how many sidekicks he’s experienced come and go throughout his career. Does he remember the plebeians' names? No. Why should he? They left, so that must mean they didn’t meet his standards. No big deal, another will take their place eventually. It’s not his job to care about them or to remember them. However, he does remember you quite well. Truthfully, much to your surprise, before even your work-study together.

The first time he’d even sparred you a passing glance was during the Sports Festival in your first year. Truthfully, he didn’t give a single damn about any students in the arena other than his son. Enji really only went to see if Shoto would finally stop this little rebellion of his by only using that wretched ice his doe-eyed wife blessed their son with. He wanted to see Shoto crack under the pressure and give in—finally admit that the fire portion of his power was the stronger, more reliable half. He managed in his obsession to give some half-assed attention to the other one-on-one duels.

One of the fights he watched over was you against the ditzy girl from the Support Department, Mei something. Initially, he was going to walk away at such an uninteresting sounding fight, but he chose to linger. He saw you willingly agree to Mei flaunting her inventions to prospective buyers by using you as the demonstration device. You’d effortlessly almost danced around her gadgets’ tactics; playing the part of challenging foe, but never let her pin you in a dicey position. You’d ended the fight by running her off the boundary line before time ran out, and both of you shared a hug as you parted ways—both satisfied with you being the victor moving forward in the chain of fights and her having interested eyes witnessing her skill. Normally, a blatant show of mutual benefit would have him running for the hills. That wasn’t a fight, neither of you put any effort into crushing your opponent to a pulp, which is what a real show of power was to his image of winning. Yet, he stayed. Not to watch anything that pink girl offered, only examining you bounce around with both your own strength and the might of your quirk. He wanted you to slip up. He wanted you to make a mistake so he could justify ditching the patetic battle, but you never did. You stayed light on your feet and still struck at your opponent a few times to show examples of the defense her “babies” could provide to heroes.

Intriguing, is all he thought. He then stood and sauntered off until the second round.

The second round he watched Shoto, not as easily as he had hoped, defeat Midoriya. While he was filled with both gratification at Shoto caving into his carnal fire and enragement at that Izuku pest for giving his son the unwavering support to defy his hold over his son, he hardly realized your next battle had begun. It was against the vine girl from the Class B—first losers, rather, to him—Ibara. Unlike Mei’s challenge, you basically wiped the floor with the poor girl. You shot around the court, darting like a bat through an inky full-mooned sky, making sure to not give Ibara a chance to get the one up on you. You hardly let her breathe during the showdown, striking at her again and again from all angles. She was safe nowhere, even when hidden behind the viney defensive walls sprouting from her hair. You’d ended it neat and clean with a swift shot of your quirk, landing her out of the arena. Triumphant, you’d moved up again, but you still remained humble while helping Ibara off of the ground with a bright smile and gifted her a sincere handshake. You’d no doubt made a spectacle of yourself to the crowd and everyone watching at home, the loud cheer of encouragement erupting across the venue said just as much. Enji even hashed out a couple of light claps for your impressive display.

Your last battle was the nail in the coffin for Endeavor. You were finally fighting against his son. Of course, he was obviously rooting for Shoto to crush you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a nail-biting fight. He got just that. You two dove for each other—ice flung around the court in jagged peaks with you racing around the boy and firing off precisely aimed jabs of your own quirk. Blustering rushes of glacial wind flushed across the landscape. You two waltzed around in a deadly dance of effort and skill. You’d make sure Shoto knew that you weren’t to be cast aside like overlooked trash. You had grit, a will to make a name for yourself in the competitive world of heroes. You managed to last around two minutes in the ring together, which is phenomenal, considering his other battles didn’t last more than a handful of seconds. In the end, Shoto had been the victor when he caught you off guard by using his ice on the floor. He swiftly created a haphazard ice rink and slid you out of bounds. You were too exhausted from abusing your quirk so much that afternoon against your other opponents that you couldn’t stop your body from spinning out. Enji didn’t miss the way Shoto practically dashed over to your side, helped you stand up, and offered his arm for you to hold as you shakily shuffled off the slick floor to a safer spot.

Though you lost, he hadn’t forgotten how you gave his son a run for his money. You were very capable. Which is why he didn’t hesitate allowing you to become a work-study of his under the guise of helping you and your other friends out. This plan he has is not only for the benefit of his own gains, but for Shoto’s as well. He knows his son cares for you, but he has to help you see that after all of the Purge nonsense. You two would be perfect together—the perfect marriage of quirks. Of course, he tells himself that he’s not in this for the sole reason of having another powerful quirk added to his ranks. But it certainly helps him like you more.

You kept your eyes lowered, the lingering sting of defeat simmering behind your eyes and in your heart. You wanted to have an unwavering confidence like some of your classmates. You would never say this to Bakugou, but you truly did admire his “never back down” style. You had seen countless times how he barked in the faces of higher-ups, challenging their morals, their reasons for becoming heroes, and plans. It was as if he never agreed with anything they presented. The blond always had to shove his opinion into every decision made. You wanted to stare Endeavor straight in the eye as you stomped on his foot and make him see what you really thought of all their bullshit. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have it in you to ignore his authority. Guess that’s why you’re still stuck up here on this stupid roof with people you don’t want to be around, huh?

Hawks brushed back your hair, trying to examine your face for distress or injury, but all he could see was you not meeting his gaze. He wants to tell you he knows firsthand how hard this decision is—hell, even he has doubts relying on Endeavor and Mirko. He wants to say he’d be able to make this escape on his own with you. Hide you away alone so no one else has any clue where you are. That sounds like paradise to him. Alas, with so many high profiles after you now, there isn’t a chance of him making it out with his head. If he broke the agreement he resentfully made with the two, then others would certainly turn against him.

Later. He’ll strike later. Don’t you see? That’s why he’s playing the perfect little stepping stool. No one deserves you but him—not even his idol. His hero. He’ll make sure you know that too by the end of this night. Only a little longer of bearing the pretending and game of dress up, then he’ll slip away with you in tow.

“Hawks.” You heard Endeavor call out for the winged man. Daddy’s calling.

Hawks tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his amber glow, and offered a caring smile. He hoped you could see the promise behind his eyes. The disgust masked behind a beaming smile was perfected for meeting delusional strangers and other worthless heroes. He gave Endeavor that smile, but not to you. You hoped the scowl you shot ripped his lungs out and left them rotting in a pile of maggot-riddled filth. How dare he give you such a carefree look after telling you he was going to steal away your entire life.

After Hawks walked over to converse with Endeavor, Mirko closed in. Not much was said between you two, but she did bump her hip against yours to knock you out of your own head. You turned to give her an offensive side eye, but she only fronted an unbothered look. You went to ignore her again, turning to face towards the men. However, you didn’t get far as she decided to make her personal mission to annoy you. You felt a gentle poke into your side, ticklish and fleeting. You jumped, falling for the trap and glaring at her again. This time, she had a mild grin on her face. It was obvious your displeasure fueled her joy.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to look mad,” she snorted, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t stop looking at you, and you saw her stare through your peripheral.

You scoffed, “Trying?” You faced forward to deny her yearning for your gaze.

“Of course. I’ve seen mad before, and you’re not at that level. You’re just…peeved. Disgruntled. Ew, no, that word is too ugly to describe you.” Mirko shook her head and stuck her tongue out at the mention of the synonym. You took a deep breath and settled in to focus on the men discussing back and forth.

She circled you like a shark lunging on for her prey, but you simply turned your head the opposite direction of where she was to avoid the confrontation.

“Where you going, grumpy~?” Mirko easily caught on to your aversion. You noticed how her grin truly did resemble something shark-like. The thought crossed your mind if she was really half-bunny, or actually some predator in disguise masking the innocence of a rabbit. A wolf in sheep’s clothing

“I’m actually very interested in that bird over there. Would you look at that, it’s pretty far away.” You apathetically mused at the distant dot in the sky. You brushed her prodding away to daze off into the horizon, Mirko’s words slowly being tossed into the heaping bin of memories you wouldn’t document in your brain. Gazing across the landscape of the dark treeline surrounding UA and the few standing buildings nearby, your eyes scanning the moonlit metal of the nearby rooftops. But something else glistening on the roof caught your eye too. Something moving.

You watched it shift and reflect the moon’s rays from across the neighboring rooftop. You squinted, trying to catch exactly what was skulking around in the dark, but it strayed just beyond your sight. Whatever it was, it wanted to stay hidden.

“Absolutely not.” Endeavor’s thunderous voice startled you from your scouting. Hawks turned his head to see if you had noticed the man’s tantrum—no shit you’d notice that barbaric yell from the brute—and, in seeing your alarm, sighed. He scooted closer to the mammoth of a man, turning his back to you. You strained your ears to hear the mumbling.

“You don’t have to tell me it’s not ideal—I know that—but what other choice do you think we have?” Was all you could hear before Hawks’ voice became too faint to make out comprehensible words.

You then remembered your little “friend” in the shadows. You shot your head back to its previous position to confront the adversary. Nothing. You searched and searched the silent building, but nothing. You wanted to tell yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks in the dark, but on tonight of all nights, you knew better than to downplay your concern.

Finally acknowledging Mirko, you questioned her, “Do you see anything on that roof over there?”

She gave you an unimpressed deadpan, “Seriously? You're trying the ‘oh my gosh, what’s that over there!’ trick?”

“Wha—no!” You looked offended, but you felt a cold sweat on the side of your forehead. Inside, you knew you’d probably have tried that trick sooner rather than later, and you've got to hand it to her. She knows you well.

Before you could try to explain your reasoning, a raging flame shot to strike Hawks and Endeavor.

Miraculously, Hawks’ reflexes were quick enough to shove Endeavor and himself out of the way of the surprise attack before someone was set ablaze. The smell of burning hair permeated the area although, and you looked over to catch a glimpse of a portion of Hawks’ right wing being singed into charred black wisps. Mirko reacted nearly faster than Hawks did, grabbing your waist and maneuvering you back from the fire. It was you and Mirko parted from Hawks and Endeavor far on the opposite side of the roof.

“What the hell?” Mirko grit her teeth at the attack. Psychos getting in the way of her time with you, what a joke. Such a waste of time. She just wants to run off and find somewhere to keep you for the rest of the Purge, yet these shitty obstacles just can’t seem to get enough of you. She was going to rip them limb from limb for taking her attention off of you.

You stood with no complaint in her arms, not minding her taking the lead of your protection. You still couldn’t see who caused the disruption, but you would soon wonder no longer.

“You’re slow today, Endeavor. What? Off your game or something?” A seedy voice echoed across the way. Male, deep, commanding. You watched as the foe came to stand at the edge of the railing. Your eyes dilated at the sight. Your breath caught in your throat. You’d only cared to remember this man as the one who, with the rest of his party, ruined your training camp over the summer and kidnapped your classmate, Bakugou.

You’re shot into the past as you recount that horrible night. It had been such a great start to the day. You’d been working hard with all of your friends, aiming to better improve the longevity and resilience of all your quirks. You’d nearly tuckered yourselves out when the hero Pixie-Bob said you all had one more challenge to face before bed. The Test of Courage. It began as traditionally as any silly game teenagers played in the dark did. Then it all came crashing down at the faint, then quickly overwhelming, scent of smoke. You remember being there in that midnight-black forest, you remembered how excited you’d been at the started of that stupid game you’d agreed to play, you remember the fire that infested the trees and burnt the pretty flowers and bushes to wisps of charcoal ash, you remembered the terror and fear of being lost in said woods before Deku found you wandering alone. You remember locking eyes with the man who stoked the fires. A spearing turquoise. You’d seen a blue so vibrant like that only once before. You’d found that hypnotic color in Shoto’s left eye. Though, Shoto was a much kinder soul than the monster these captivating eyes were attached to.

In the present, you’re wrung back into that same terror as you watched his black leather trench coat gently sway in the breeze, a glinting bicep catching your eye. The metal cuffs shone from the full light of the moon along with the many staples running up and down the sleeves. He was too far away to discern an exact facial expression, but you could blatantly see the large patch of marred, burned flesh dominating the lower half of his face. The leathery substance was roughly connected to what remained of his skin untouched by flame, stitched up with bloody staples. The way it was sutured made his face forever appear as if strung upwards to mimic a sickening Cheshire grin. You wanted to say he was only generally looking around the roof, but you knew better. The villain was practically drilling daggers into you with how much he was staring. No, you couldn’t just say he was any old random villain; you knew his name. Dabi.

More bodies moved out from behind him to occupy the opposing roof. All you heard from them was laughter and unflattering comments nagged at the pro heroes.

“Wow, they’re even cuter this close~! Much better than in the crappy photos you guys took, Shiggy~,” A much higher pitched voice exhaled in an almost loving sigh. Their blonde hair was cinched up in two tangled space buns, but the mess was an intentional look. The loose strands were slicked into spikes. Cutesy and feminine, a happy aura surrounded her, but you knew better. She draped herself over the railing as if in her own ditzy world. You would have believed it was a fainting couch with how dramatically she had laid over the scenery. Much like Dabi, the girl couldn’t take her gaze off of you, but she made her presence known.

“Hiiii, (N/N)~~! Are the big, scary pro heroes getting in the way again? Don’t worry, cutie! I’ll take care of ‘em, hehe~!” Himiko Toga, you believe that’s what Aizawa said her name was, called out to you like she was the Romeo to your Juilet. You’re sure she believed that too. You’d heard Ochaco talk about her to you guys after the training camp. She told you about how the girl tackled Tsuyu and used these specialized needles to draw out blood from her victims. Uraraka experienced the threat head on as the girl had jammed one of her needles straight into her thigh with little apprehension.

Uraraka told you how obsessed the girl was with blood, a crazed look in her eye when the red substance came about. She said she loved her, loved her so much that she wanted to turn into her! Deku even chimed in and said the girl shouted to him delusional fantasies of wanting him to be her boyfriend. At the time, all you could do was shiver and brush off the fear the conversation brought by claiming she was “just another crazed lunatic”. Well, now that the girl is staring you down with her own redden irises, you felt your tongue shrivel up in your throat.

“Bloodied and carved up is the only way any of these nobody pro heroes could ever look cute. Though, the one daring to hold onto my darling definitely won’t be leaving here alive.” She sneered, completely flipping her personality into one of seething hate and disgust when she gazed upon Mirko. Toga’s rage could be felt from a mile away, and you felt Mirko hold onto you tighter.

“Toga, knock it off,” the green lizard man with the draping red scarf hollered at her, “we’ve got a job to do.” Though it was hard to see, you noticed the way his eyes would drift to you and quickly look away. Like he was nervous. Shy? The large clump of weapons taped and glued together as his arsenal seemed deadly but ineffective all in one. However, he moved rather quickly on his feet despite the added weight.

“Wow, such a beauty! Ugh, what an attention-seeker!” The same voice shouted two opposing sentences from across the way. You looked over and saw a man wearing a black and gray spandex suit, clutching the railing while waving his arm around. After yelling, it looked like one of his arms had a mind of its own as it grabbed his neck. It appeared to be he was trying to strangle himself with one hand, while the other hand sprung into action to stop the strangling. It was an odd battle of each arm trying to wrestle each other, as his head kept whipping back and forth shouting insults at…himself? You’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but you hope he won’t start to try injuring himself with weapons next.

“Hmm, I agree with your first sentence, Twice. Do try to not scare our guest away so soon.” A regal tone stood out through the other members’ silliness. You wonder how much backup did these guys bring as a tall figure in a creamsicle colored jacket walked to the edge of the railing. His height was enhanced with a dark brown top hat he donned and the fancy cane held at his side. The most notable feature of his was the mask he hid behind. Marble man. You couldn’t remember his name, but you certainly remembered the way he trapped Tokoyami and Bakugou when he tried to run away with them in his grasp. You felt bubbling heat rise in your chest. Betrayal and resentment all wrapped into one swirl of hurt leaving a suffocating dead weight on your chest.

“Dabi, keep your shit under control or go back to the base. Get your asses moving. We’re here to take and leave, so don’t fuck this up for me.” An unseen voice was heard from further back on the roof. However, whoever it was got the lot of them hurrying off. Groaned complaints and witty remarks were heard, mostly from the black-haired male, but they soon fizzled out. You kept looking for where they were going, but soon you couldn’t see anyone anymore. It was silent yet again.

“Sorry, darling, but we don’t have time to stay and find out what happens next.” That is all Mirko said to you before she bent down to pull you up into her arms. Though, she didn’t move that far.

“MIRKO, BEHIND!” You heard Endeavor yell out to the woman in concern. You heard it before you saw it. A goopy, unnatural, burbling sound came from behind your form. You didn’t have a chance to turn around before a platform leather boot kicked Mirko’s crouched body away with little effort. She skidded across the cement, nearly all the way back to where Hawks and Endeavor were standing. You wanted to call out for her, ask if she was okay. As much as you’d felt unapologetic rage for how they’d decided to take your life away from you, you still cared about them. You probably gave them too much of your heart, but they’re still your mentors. The people you've looked up to for years in your training to become a hero. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, as much as you’d begged for it in your mind tonight. Not with the threat of the League of Villains being what you’d have to face on your own.

You heard a sinister giggle from over your shoulder, and felt a calloused hand grasp your shoulder. Without warning, the memories you’d vaulted away with lock and key of the horrible training camp incident came flooding back with greater force than before.

That night, Izuku had found you. Tears dripped down your face as you hacked up a lung from the smoke in the air. If he’d found you any later, you’d probably have been passed out from the lack of oxygen. You ran alongside him, trying to find your way back to the rest of the class, toward any sign of a familiar face. After fleeing, you’d soon found the little boy who originally came with the Wild Wild Pussycats, Kota, with a villain in tow. Deku fought against the mammoth of a man who went by Muscular while you protected Kota from the falling rubble and terrain. After nearly getting thrown a million miles away, Izuku finally got the upperhand on the man, and knocked out the behemoth villain. You fled into the forest again, and after dropping Kota off with Mr. Aizawa and fending off Spinner to save Mandalay, you soon find Shoji and Tokoyami. However, Tokoyami could have been in better shape, as he was now overtaken by Dark Shadow’s power. Shoji explained that he and Tokoyami were attacked by a villain named Moonfish, which resulted in Tokoyami trying to use Dark Shadow to protect them, but Dark Shadow’s desire to take the reins was too great. Dark Shadow was destroying the forest in their rage, but Izuku was quick on his feet to think of using Dark Shadow to your advantage to help protect Bakugou from the villains as well.

You three lead Dark Shadow through the woods, and end up running into Bakugou and Todoroki who are facing off against the villain who tried to attack Shoji and Tokoyami before. Dark Shadow descended and made easy work of clobbering Moonfish, and the boys used their fiery quirks to release Tokoyami from Dark Shadow’s control. All of you hurried off in the direction of the facility, running into Tsuyu and Ochaco who’d been fighting off Himiko before she fled, and your large group prepared to get back safely as “Bakugou Protection Squad”. You didn’t get far as you finally noticed that Bakugou and Tokoyami were missing. The marble guy revealed himself and the League’s plan to take the boys hostage. He flew off, but the girls helped you, Shoto, Shoji, and Izuku fly to catch up to the villain.

You tackled Compress out of the sky, and fended off Twice alongside Shoto when the League fought against you. As you tried to run off as Shoji had yelled for you and Shoto to do, the warp user, Kurogiri, had stopped your escape. When Compress had shown the marbles of your friends being trapped, you saw red. You couldn’t let them be taken, you just couldn’t. It was the miracle that Aoyama’s precise shot of his Naval Laser to Compress’ face that gave you the chance you needed to save the boys.

Shoji had successfully nabbed Tokoyami’s marble, and now it was up to Shoto and you grab Bakugou’s. You were so close, just inches away, before he was ripped from you again. It was the scarred hands of the fire user that flooded your vision. You fell to the ground, empty-handed and desperately looking up at the man searching for any weakness in his grasp to steal the tiny blue-tinted glass ball from him. But it was too late.

It was an extra bit of torture—one that Dabi made sure you guys knew was on purpose—to release Bakugou from the marble so he could watch your failure. You saw the fear swimming in his red irises as he looked at you, the stiffness in his stance, the slight shake of his hands. He looked so…helpless. You’d never seen the boy in such a state of despair before. It was haunting. You stood on shaky fawn-like legs, ready to tear that villain apart with your bare hands, no Quirk needed. You wanted to make him pay for the suffering he put not only your class, but what he put everyone at the camp through tonight. But you were stopped with a gentle embrace.

Shoto had looped his arms around your midsection in a cage. You twisted back to yell at him to let you go, to let you save your friend, but his gaze gave his answer to your plea. He knew you couldn’t win. One eye filled with a harsh, cold steel of an unforgiving bind and the other swimming with a depth that rivaled even the ocean’s own fullness, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You thrashed and screamed against Shoto, not believing you wouldn’t come out victorious in this suicide mission. You unconsciously looked at Bakugou for aid, and it was a cruel reminder that he could save you no more. Both of you being held against your will, both of you screaming for help—one screaming bloody murder, one silent as a moonless night. The savior trying to go where the victim was being taken, but the victim commanding them to stay behind.

You’ll never forget the emptiness after Bakugou was fully snatched through the portal. You’ll never forget collapsing to the dirt beside Deku, Shoto’s arm still chained tightly around your middle, and wailing your heart out.

You’ll never forgive the satisfied gleam in that evil man’s eye. Never.

Except it wasn’t Dabi’s hand this time. You looked at the pale flesh, graying and roughed from years of neglect and self hate. The fingernails were chipped and appeared to be chewed with anxiety-ridden coping. Beneath the nails looked like they’d been clawing at a cement wall, dried blood caked underneath the unmanicured bits. The twitching pinky finger dangling frivolously above the target of your shoulder made your blood run cold.

“Miss me?” Tomura Shigaraki mumbled into your ear with a snarl. You’re sure you were shaking, but you couldn’t feel anything other than the stuttery breaths you took in and out. You could only focus on the lone finger judging the worth of your entire life. One movement too erratic and you’re nothing more than a pile of ash sitting in his rotten hands. You saw Endeavor’s mouth moving, he was definitely addressing the villain, but neither of you were paying attention to the fuming man.

“Staying to chat would be fun, but I think I’ll let them do the talking for me. I would rather spend my breath talking to (Y/N) than you losers.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. He guided you to step aside, and you reluctantly shifted. A sloshing sounded as Kurogiri’s portal grew to be much larger. Once the portal stretched high enough, a figure swished through. They shouldn’t be here. How can they get onto UA’s premises? Doesn’t this place have some kind of security measure to protect the kids, damnit?!

As if he could read your mind, he chuckled to himself, “So nice that UA’s defenses are down for the Purge. So much easier to ransack this place when I can toss a couple of these guys onto the front lawn. Makes this boss fight a clean sweep.” Out from the portal stepped a massive monster you’d come to know as one of Shigaraki’s playthings, a Nomu.

You’d seen a couple before, namely at the USJ when All Might defeated the beast nearly single-handedly and during the time you saved Bakugou from the League and All for One, but you had never been so close that you could reach out and touch it. As it lumbered past you, you could almost taste the horrifying aura it carried. The violence just itching to break out of its skin. Its body was barely keeping the violence it desires at bay. It was easy to tell how badly the creature wanted to claw the heroes to shreds, the short gasp-like breaths it took, and the stomach-turning visual of its exposed brain and nerve endings. Its unblinking eyes held no emotion. No malice, no joy. Nothing. You’d think it was an impressively realistic Halloween animatronic if it hadn’t just shambled past you.

Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any better, a second one appeared from beyond the portal. A carbon-copy of the first, just as horrifying, just as deadly. Then a third. Three of those monstrosities stood in front of you like an impenetrable wall. The barrier of such an evil force left you feeling light headed. This can’t be happening.

“Have fun, heroes! Don’t come looking for them, unless you’re looking to free up some space on the Hero Billboard Chart. Would be a shame if some of Japan’s finest didn’t make it through the Purge, huh?” Shigaraki called out to them with a scratchy cackle. You watched the three pros prep their Quirks and bodies for the fight to come, you then heard banging from the doors of the rooftop. The doors must have been locked as you heard a hell of a ruckus behind it. Though it was a multitude of voices, deep and high pitched, and lots of them. You wondered who it could be. Your teachers? Had they chased after the pros and were intent on winning you back? Or could it be…

Oh no.

Wait. They shouldn't come up here. Please. Not with these things here, not now. The Nomus had no remorse, no moral compass. They’d kill your classmates right where they stood.

“No…wait, my friends are still here. Please—,” this was the only sliver of argument that you posed against Shigaraki, with a shaking lip and a strip of silver tears lining your lower lash line. He revealed in your fear to oppose him.

“Really? Hmm. Perfect.” Shigaraki smiled a repulsive grin at you, his wrinkled red and slightly pink eyes filled with more bloodlust than you’ve known before. He began pulling you back by the shoulder, but you chose to fight. Yanking yourself forward before a different set of hands gripped your arms, your other shoulder, and your waist. You wrung your body left and right, and you felt closer to Bakugou than you ever have before. Trapped and alone, with no foreseeable aid.

Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.

Slimy drool dripped from the blood-thirst Nomus’ mouths onto the cement floor. Frothed mouths itching to latch onto body parts and tear them off.

Hawks, Mirko, and Endeavor had looks of pure panic as they could only watch you getting dragged away. Not because of the threat of the Nomus, but because they were losing you yet again.

Your screams for mercy were only acknowledged by a calloused grasp, minus the pinky, clamping over your mouth.

And just like that, you were gone.

~ To Be Continued… ~

Far away from the light of the outside world, a dark figure resided in the shadows. A large television took up nearly the entire landscape of their wall, illuminating their body with its harsh glow. A smirk lined their lips, entertained with the events unfolding on that fateful rooftop. Multiple cameras showed all angles of the fight, of their disobedience, of their foolishness.

Not you! Heavens no, not you! Never you. You were perfect, always. Always the perfect little damsel in distress. Always the most entertaining morsel. Delicate and bold at the same time. A real palette cleanser from all the other despicable acts they’ve seen before. They’ve had a lifetime and then some to experience the tiresome, dreadfully boring reality they’ve come to unwilling terms with. However, you certainly add a wonderful zing of sweetness and spice to the otherwise flavorless mush they’ve known life to taste like. They want more.

They watched the despair fill your mind, how distraught you became over the mess they’d created. They saw your beautiful eyes, so teary and wide. So much innocence and hope for this crumbling world held inside them.

They stood, brushing off the dust from their clothes, and walked towards the door that caged them inside. Oh, how wonderful it will be to meet you again. Properly, this time.

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[solelifauna]

Yandere EraserMic x Reader (Commission for @ayn-yurbestie)

Thank You so much @ayn-yurbestie for supporting my page! I hope you enjoy the fic!!

You had always prided yourself on your instincts. As a former pro hero, instincts were what kept you alive during missions, during late-night patrols in the dark streets, and in confrontations with villains. It was the same instinct that had once guided you to victory, the same instinct that told you when to strike and when to retreat. It was also that very instinct that was now screaming in your head—telling you that something was horribly, terribly wrong.

You were no longer a hero; that life had been ripped from you the day All for One had taken your quirk. All for One was gone now, defeated by All Might, but the damage he had done to you was irreversible. Powerless, you were forced into early retirement.

Sure your power wasn’t flashy or explosive like some of the top pro heroes, but it was something. You had telekinesis, the ability to move objects with your mind. It wasn’t the strongest quirk out there, and you knew that. You couldn’t lift entire buildings or hurl debris the way some of your peers could with their brute strength. But your quirk had its uses, its purpose. In the field, you were invaluable in the smaller, more delicate moments, where precision and care were needed more than raw power.

You were never the front-line fighter, but you had saved people—so many people—because of that careful control you honed over the years. Whether it was pulling civilians out from under rubble with a gentle thought or stopping a speeding car just before it could crash, your telekinesis gave you purpose. It was how you helped, how you made a difference. And in a world where quirks often defined your worth, it was enough. Even though you sometimes envied the heroes with flashier abilities, you were content. You were proud of what you could do.

But when All for One took your quirk, it felt like a piece of your soul was ripped away.

The day you found out your powers were gone for good was like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. It was surreal at first. You remembered trying to move a small object, something as simple as a cup, just to see if the connection was still there. But it wasn’t. You tried again, harder, focusing with every ounce of strength you had, but nothing happened. The cup sat on the table, unmoving. And that’s when it hit you—the horrifying realization that you would never feel that connection again. The subtle hum of your quirk, the pulse of energy that had always been there, was gone. Just–gone.

Losing your quirk felt like losing your identity. Without it, who were you? The world didn’t need a quirkless hero. You no longer had the power to save people, to help. The purpose you had lived for, the very thing that gave your life meaning, was stripped away from you in an instant. It wasn’t just the loss of your powers—it was the loss of yourself. You weren’t important anymore. You were just another powerless person in a world filled with those who could still make a difference.

The depression that followed was like a suffocating blanket, and for a long time, you weren’t sure how to keep going. You’d always known there was more to life than your quirk, but it had been your purpose. Without it, the world became dull, every day a reminder of what you could no longer do. You stopped seeing friends, stopped going out, even stopped answering your phone most days.

And that’s when Hizashi and Aizawa stepped in.

They were your lifeline. They stayed by your side when the world felt like it was crumbling. Hizashi, with his boundless optimism, never let you sink too deep into despair. He would show up at your door with takeout or coffee and insist on dragging you out of the apartment, forcing you to see the sunlight, to breathe fresh air. Aizawa, on the other hand, was quieter in his support. He never pushed, never prodded, but he was always there. Sitting with you in silence when words wouldn’t come, offering a comforting presence that made you feel less alone.

You had leaned on them more than you realized at the time. They were the ones who kept you grounded, who helped you feel like maybe, just maybe, you still had some value. They didn’t treat you like a failure, didn’t see you as “just quirkless.” They treated you like you. And for a while, it helped. It gave you the strength to start rebuilding your life, even if it was a life without hero work.

You had always been grateful to them for that—for helping you when you felt like you were drowning. 

You never imagined that same support would turn into something more sinister.

After that, life had become quieter, less exciting, but you'd managed. You tried your best to adapt, to live a "normal" life—though nothing about being quirkless in a society full of heroes was truly normal. But lately... something had changed.

It started small—little things you tried to dismiss. Hizashi insisting on accompanying you everywhere, even to mundane tasks like grocery shopping; Aizawa constantly checking in on you, dropping by unannounced, or sending texts at odd hours to make sure you were "safe." At first, you thought it was just their way of looking out for you. After all, you were quirkless now, they were probably worried that you were more vulnerable. So, you just called it off as the two being worry-warts.

But as time passed, slowly, their behavior became more suffocating. Hizashi would show up at your apartment early in the morning, coffee in hand, saying he wanted to "spend time" with you, his energy far too high for the early hours; Aizawa would come in the evening, staying late into the night, lounging on your couch like he lived there. They would ask questions—innocuous at first, but they slowly grew more invasive. 

“Where were you going?” 

“Who were you with?” 

“What time would you be back?”

Something about the way they looked at you had shifted too. Hizashi’s usual bright smile now seemed strained, the glint in his eyes unsettling. Aizawa’s gaze, once indifferent, had become sharp, always watching, always observing. You started feeling like prey under their gaze, and the worst part was, they acted like nothing had changed, like this was perfectly normal behavior.

You tried to distance yourself. You told them you needed time alone, space to process your new life. You even started lying about your whereabouts, saying you were out of town, too busy to meet. But it didn’t work. They were always there, lurking, like shadows you couldn’t escape.

It all came to a head one cold autumn evening.

You had decided to confront them. Maybe if you explained your concerns, they would back off. Maybe it was all in your head, and you were just being paranoid. After all, they were your friends. Right?

You invited them over to your apartment, hoping to clear the air. The moment they arrived, you felt the tension crackling in the air. Hizashi’s usual cheerfulness was there, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Aizawa was as stoic as ever, but his gaze was piercing, as though he could see right through you.

“So, what’s up, baby?” Hizashi asked, plopping down on your couch with a wide grin, using that affectionate nickname that you once found endearing but now grated on your nerves.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “We need to talk.”

Aizawa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. “About what?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words without sounding accusatory. But you couldn’t back down now. “I just–I feel like things have been different between us. I need space. I need to figure things out on my own, without you both hovering over me all the time.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hizashi’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Hovering?” he repeated, his voice deceptively light.

Aizawa remained silent, his expression unreadable, but the air around him seemed to grow heavier.

“Yes,” you said, trying to stay firm. “I appreciate that you care about me, but I’m not a child. I’m not helpless. I need to be able to live my life without feeling like I’m constantly being watched.”

Hizashi’s grin twisted into something darker, something almost predatory. “We’re just looking out for you, songbird. You know the world’s dangerous, especially for someone without a quirk.”

“And who knows what kind of people are out there,” Aizawa added, his voice low, almost a growl. “We’re the only ones who can keep you safe.”

You took a step back, your instincts flaring to life. Danger. The way they were looking at you now—possessive, controlling—set off alarms in your mind. This wasn’t the reaction of concerned friends. This was something else entirely.

“I don’t need your protection,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. “I can take care of myself.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. “No, you can’t.”

Before you could react, Hizashi was on his feet, moving faster than you anticipated. He grabbed your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. “We’re not letting you go, baby! Not now. Not ever.”

Panic surged through you, adrenaline flooding your system.

“Hizashi, let go,” you said, your voice tight with alarm. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin with surprising strength. Your heart began to race as you looked over at Aizawa, who was standing silently near the door, watching the scene unfold with that same calm, emotionless expression.

Panic surged through you, adrenaline flooding your system. You yanked your arm back, managing to break free from Hizashi’s grasp immediately backing up towards the door, heart pounding in your chest. This isn’t happening. 

“Relax, baby,” Hizashi murmured, his voice unnervingly soft, “we’re not going to hurt you. We just–we need you to come with us.”

His words sent a bolt of fear through you. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This was planned.

Your pulse spiked, adrenaline surging through your veins as the realization fully sank in. You jerked your arms free from Hizashi’s grasp, stepping back with wide eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” you spat, your voice rising. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Aizawa pushed off the wall, his expression cold, calculating. “That’s not going to happen, (Y/n). You’re coming with us, one way or another.”

Panic flooded your body, and you took another step back, your mind racing. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. They were your friends. You tried to reach for something, anything, to defend yourself, but before you could act, Hizashi lunged, grabbing you again—harder this time.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, twisting violently in his grip, but he was stronger than you. He always had been. Quirkless or not, you still knew how to fight. You swung an elbow back, connecting with Hizashi’s side, and he grunted in pain. The moment his grip loosened, you bolted. Instinct took over again, and you lunged toward the nearest object—a lamp on the side table. You swung it at Aizawa, who ducked just in time, but the distraction gave you enough time to bolt toward the door.

But Aizawa was faster.

Before you could even reach the handle, something whipped around your ankles, pulling you off balance. His capture weapon. You crashed to the ground with a sharp cry, your knees slamming into the floor. Pain shot up your legs, but you didn’t stop. You twisted onto your back, kicking wildly as Aizawa’s scarf tightened around you, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes were hard now, his calm demeanor replaced with a cold determination.

“Stubborn as always,” Aizawa muttered, pulling you back toward him with a slow, deliberate motion.

You struggled, kicking and clawing, trying to break free, but his scarf tightened around you, binding your arms to your sides. Hizashi was suddenly there, grabbing your legs and pinning them down.

“Fuck you!” you shouted, clawing at the scarf, trying desperately to loosen its grip. “Let me go!”

Aizawa’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—regret, maybe? It didn’t matter. His capture weapon tightened, and you could feel it constricting around your wrists, pinning your arms to your sides. “You’ll hurt yourself if you keep fighting.”

The anger bubbling inside you reached a boiling point. You thrashed in his hold, kicking and writhing as the fear and betrayal turned into a raw, primal rage.

Hizashi’s grin was gone, replaced with a look of dark satisfaction. “Come on now, baby. No need to fight us. You’re ours.”

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

Aizawa crouched down beside you, his hand gently brushing your hair out of your face. “We’re doing this because we love you, (Y/n). You’ll understand soon enough.”

Before you could protest further, you felt a sharp prick in your arm. A needle. And just like that the world around you started to blur, your limbs growing heavy as whatever drug concoction coursed through your veins.

“No...” you whispered, your vision darkening. “No...”

The last thing you saw was Aizawa’s cold, calculating gaze and Hizashi’s too-bright smile before the world went black.

When your consciousness fully returned, you tried to focus, but the haze from the drugs still clung to you like fog. Your limbs felt sluggish, and your thoughts were scattered. As the seconds ticked by, awareness seeped back in, and with it, came the terror. You tugged at the restraints binding your wrists, but they didn’t give. The soft material was deceptively gentle, but they held you firmly in place. A glance around the room made the walls seem closer, the dim lighting barely enough to see. Panic set in as you realized the full extent of your situation. You were trapped. Kidnapped by the very people you had once trusted.

The memories rushed back—the confrontation with Hizashi and Aizawa, the struggle, the needle. They had taken you. Your stomach churned as the reality of it hit you with full force. These were the people you had once called your friends, comrades. You had trusted them, fought alongside them. Now they had taken everything from you, just like All for One had taken your powers.

That thought, the loss of your quirk, stabbed at you with an old ache. Your powers were gone, leaving you defenseless. You were no longer a hero; you were no one. Just a quirkless, vulnerable shell of who you used to be. Even worse, you had no family to notice your absence. You had distanced yourself from most of your friends after your forced retirement, trying to rebuild your life in isolation.

You were completely alone.

Nobody would come looking for you.

And who would even suspect them? Two beloved pro heroes, trusted by the public, adored by their students, respected by their peers. No one would ever believe that Present Mic and Eraserhead had kidnapped someone. That thought alone sending a chill down your spine.

Your breathing grew uneven as the weight of your situation pressed down on you. How had it come to this? You had always known something was off with their behavior, but you hadn’t imagined this. This betrayal felt like a physical blow, a deep wound that no amount of healing could fix.

And then it boiled over. The anger surged through you like a wildfire, burning away the fog in your mind. You yanked at the restraints, your muscles straining as you twisted in bed, trying to free yourself, but it was futile.

“Why?!” you screamed, your voice hoarse, desperation lacing every word. “Why are you doing this?! What is wrong with you?”

The door to the room creaked open, and they stepped inside as if on cue, as though they had been waiting just beyond the door. Aizawa was as calm and collected as always, his dark eyes expressionless, while Hizashi wore a soft, almost sympathetic smile that made you want to scream even more.

“You’re awake,” Aizawa observed quietly, his voice low and measured. “Good.”

You ignored him, focusing instead on the knot of betrayal and confusion that twisted in your chest. 

“Why are you doing this?” you repeated, your voice breaking now. “I trusted you! You were my friends!”

Hizashi stepped closer, hands raised in what he must have thought was a calming gesture. “We’re your friends, baby. We love you.”

“This isn't love!” you shouted, fury and fear colliding in your chest. “You kidnapped me! You drugged me! This is—this is insane!”

Your heart raced, the walls of the room closing in on you as the magnitude of what was happening sank deeper into your bones. Every breath felt tighter, like there wasn’t enough air, like the room was shrinking. You tugged at the restraints again, your body fighting against the impossible, but all it did was make your head spin.

Panic clawed at you, rising quickly, uncontrollably. It was a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time, not since–

Not since them.

The memories you had tried so hard to bury came rushing back. The League of Villains. All for One. The dark, cold rooms where you had been held captive for weeks, powerless and helpless. The suffocating sensation of being watched, manipulated, tortured, and toyed with. The feeling of having no escape.

It was happening all over again.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the panic attack overwhelmed you, your chest tightening until you couldn’t breathe. You could hear Hizashi’s voice, soothing, but distant, as though he was speaking from the other side of a wall.

“Hey, hey, easy now, baby. Breathe for me, okay? It’s going to be alright.”

His voice blurred with the rush of your pulse in your ears. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. All you could feel was the crushing weight of being trapped, of losing everything again. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you tried to pull in a breath that wouldn’t come. The room tilted, spinning, suffocating.

Aizawa moved closer, his presence steady, grounding. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice calm, firm. “Breathe. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word felt like a mockery. Nothing about this was safe. You had been here before, in a different room, with different captors. But the feeling was the same—powerless. Trapped. Alone.

Tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with the force of the panic attack. You couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the overwhelming tide of terror that drowned you. Your chest heaved, gasping for air that wouldn’t fill your lungs.

“Shh,” Hizashi whispered softly, kneeling beside you. “It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

Aizawa’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you, his gaze steady, but there was something in his eyes—a softness, a gentleness that contradicted everything they had done to you. It confused you. You had been prepared for cruelty, for punishment, for violence. But this?

“You’re not in danger,” Aizawa murmured, his voice still that same low, hypnotic tone. “No one’s going to hurt you. Breathe with me.”

You tried, gasping, struggling to follow his lead. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly–slowly, the world stopped spinning. The tightness in your chest eased just a fraction, but the tears kept coming, falling in silent streams down your face.

You were too exhausted to fight anymore, the adrenaline pumping in your body was beginning to crash, and your body too wracked with panic and fear to keep resisting. For a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, you let yourself believe them. You let yourself believe that you were safe, that they would protect you, that this was some twisted version of love.

Hizashi’s hand gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, his touch soft, tender. “That’s it. We’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly, your mind foggy, the weight of exhaustion settling deep into your bones. For a moment, you forgot that you were their prisoner, forgot that they had drugged you and taken you against your will. You forgot the gravity of your situation and simply let yourself be comforted.

But it didn’t last.

Reality crashed down on you again like a tidal wave, and the illusion shattered. You weren’t safe. You weren’t loved. You were trapped. You were their prisoner, bound to this bed, helpless, powerless.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice raw, broken. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change. He regarded you with that same calm, detached gaze, as though the answer was simple. “Because we care about you.”

Hizashi nodded, his usual cheer replaced by a more serious tone. “The world’s dangerous, baby. You’re not a hero anymore. You’re vulnerable. We just want to protect you.”

“You’re lying,” you spat, your voice rising again with fresh anger. “You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing this for yourselves!”

Aizawa’s grip on your face tightened, just slightly. “It’s not that we don’t trust you,” he said, his voice low and measured. “It’s the world we don’t trust. You’re not safe out there. Not without your quirk. And we can’t risk losing you.”

Hizashi leaned in closer, his hand brushing your hair away from your face. “You don’t know how many people would love to hurt you, baby. We do. We see it every day. We’re just keeping you safe.”

The absurdity of their reasoning made your head spin. They spoke as if they were doing you a favor, as if they had taken you to protect you from some nebulous, unseen danger. But the real danger was right in front of you. It was them.

“I don’t need your protection,” you said, your voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “I don’t need you. I was fine on my own. You’re the ones hurting me.”

They exchanged a look, one that made your stomach drop. There was something unspoken between them, something dark and possessive that you couldn’t quite place.

“You’ll see, (Y/n),” Aizawa said, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it now. “In time, you’ll understand.”

Hizashi nodded, his smile returning, but it was softer now, more intimate. “We love you, baby. And we’re never going to let you go.”

You felt the bile rise in your throat. They weren’t going to let you go. You were their prisoner now, and nothing you said or did would change that.

—

Days bled into weeks, and the routine you found yourself in was both mind-numbing and soul-crushing. Every morning, you woke up to the soft clink of the shackles around your wrists and ankles, limiting your movements. The room they kept you in had become your prison, a far cry from the freedom you once enjoyed as a hero. The windows were bolted shut, their frames reinforced with unbreakable metal. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how desperately you searched for something—anything—you could use to break the glass, nothing worked. You were trapped, left to your own devices in this small, confining space while they continued their lives outside.

The chains only allowed you to move a few feet from the bed—enough to pace the room, to stretch your legs, but never enough to reach the door. Your muscles ached from the confinement, and your mind began to fray from the constant isolation. The soft clinking of the chains became a haunting lullaby, a cruel reminder of your captivity.

They were still pro heroes, after all. They had to leave for work, had to uphold their public images, and pretend to be the righteous, selfless men everyone believed them to be. During those long stretches of time when Aizawa and Hizashi were away, you were left alone in the suffocating silence, your thoughts spiraling as the reality of your situation weighed down on you like a crushing force.

You had no quirk. No allies. No one to help you.

Meanwhile, outside the walls of your prison, people were beginning to notice your absence. It had been too long since you last made contact with any of your old colleagues, and even though you had distanced yourself after your forced retirement, a few people still cared enough to be concerned. All Might had always kept an eye on you, even after you left the hero business. And Midoriya, who had once looked up to you as a mentor, had begun to voice his worries.

“Has anyone seen her recently?” Midoriya asked one day, his eyes full of concern as he spoke to All Might. “She hasn’t responded to any of my messages in weeks.”

All Might frowned, his brows furrowing in thought. “No… now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from her either. It’s not like her to disappear like this.”

They weren’t the only ones who noticed. Rumors had begun to spread among your former colleagues, whispers that something was wrong. Even the students at U.A. began to ask questions. It was only a matter of time before someone started digging deeper.

Aizawa and Hizashi, of course, played their roles perfectly. They acted concerned, pretending to be as worried as everyone else. When people asked if they had seen you, they would exchange concerned glances, shake their heads, and say things like, “She’s been through a lot. Maybe she just needed some space.”

But behind the facade, they were always watching, always planning. The more worried your former colleagues became, the tighter your captors’ grip grew. They couldn’t risk anyone finding out what they had done.

Your days were a cycle of monotony, designed to break you down piece by piece. Every morning, Aizawa would come into your room and release the chains just long enough for you to stretch and shower. He never left your side during those moments, his eyes always on you, making sure you didn’t try anything. Hizashi would prepare breakfast, cheerful as always, as if this were all perfectly normal.

Afterward, they’d leave for work, securing you in the room with a soft kiss to your forehead as if they were tucking in a beloved pet before heading out for the day. You hated how a part of you craved those small gestures, the human connection that you were so starved for. It was shameful, disgusting, but in your darkest moments of isolation, you clung to it.

When they returned, it was time for what they mockingly called “dates.” They acted like nothing had changed, like this was just the old days when the three of you would hang out, laugh, and enjoy each other’s company. But now, the dynamic had shifted, warped beyond recognition. You weren’t a friend or an equal anymore. You were their captive.

They would sit you down on the couch, unlock the chains, and put on a movie, as if you were simply unwinding after a long day. But the suffocating reality was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. You couldn’t enjoy the moments like you used to. Every second felt like a mockery of your previous life, like they were taunting you with what you had lost.

Believe it or not, here had been a time, not so long ago, when your relationship with Hizashi and Aizawa was far different from this twisted, suffocating nightmare. Back when you were still a hero, before your quirk was stolen and your life unraveled, they had been a source of comfort and light during some of your darkest days. It was hard not to feel drawn to them. They were both so different, yet their presence in your life had filled a void you hadn’t even realized existed.

Hizashi, with his infectious energy and boundless enthusiasm, always had a way of making you smile, even when everything around you seemed bleak. His bright eyes and easy laughter made you feel like maybe—just maybe—there was still something good left in the world. Aizawa, on the other hand, was quieter, steadier. His calm, rational demeanor always grounded you when the chaos of hero life threatened to overwhelm you. And though his face rarely showed emotion, there was a kindness in his gaze, a subtle protectiveness that made you feel safe.

It wasn’t long before those feelings of safety and comfort started to morph into something deeper, something you hadn’t anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to the moments when you could be around them, even if it was just sharing a cup of coffee or talking about missions. There was a time when you imagined what it would be like to be something more with them—what it would be like to let yourself fall in love with them.

But you never said anything. How could you? At the time, there was an all-out war brewing with the League of Villains and All for One. Every moment was tense, every mission a risk. There simply wasn’t room for anything as fragile as romantic feelings, not when the world could come crashing down around you at any moment.

Besides, you had always thought that Aizawa and Hizashi were more interested in each other. You saw the way they interacted—the unspoken understanding, the way they moved like two parts of the same whole. They had a bond that went far beyond what you shared with either of them, and you didn’t want to complicate things. So you buried your feelings, locking them away in the deepest corners of your heart. The feelings lingered, simmering beneath the surface, but you convinced yourself that it was enough just to be their friend. It had to be enough.

Over time, you learned to live with those unspoken emotions, content with the friendship you had built with them. You never expected things to turn out like this. You never imagined that the same men who once brought warmth and light into your life would twist that affection into something possessive, something terrifying. The betrayal stung even more because of those old, lingering feelings, and now you were trapped in this nightmare, bound by the very people you once thought you could trust.

And as you lay there, shackled and helpless, a small part of you couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

It was almost laughable—almost—when you thought about it. If they had just asked you out, if Hizashi or Aizawa had come to you one day and expressed their feelings like normal people, you probably would’ve said yes. You’d spent enough time with them, trusted them enough that, had things been different, a romantic relationship could’ve blossomed naturally. You even caught yourself daydreaming about it once or twice—a casual date, coffee in the city, a lazy afternoon curled up on the couch together after a long mission.

But that was the thing about your life: nothing good ever happened the way it was supposed to.

Instead of a sweet, tentative romance, they had chosen to twist their affection into something dark, something that suffocated rather than nurtured. They didn’t ask for your consent, your interest, or your desire, they didn’t give you the choice. They had taken that from you, just like All for One had taken your powers. That was what stung the most—the loss of your autonomy, the fact that they didn’t believe you could love them without being forced into it.

It was ironic, really. The same men who had once brought comfort to your life had stripped away the last semblance of control you had left. And now, bound by chains—literally and figuratively—you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the thought.

A normal life? A healthy relationship? Maybe in another world, in another life. But not this one.

In this one, you were always destined to have everything go wrong, to have the things you cared about twisted into something ugly. Whether it was your powers, your career, or even your heart, you were cursed to lose it all in the most painful way possible. And now, here you were, shackled in a room by the very people who could have been your salvation if only they had given you a choice.

Now, you just had to bare this taunt–taunt of domesticity and of what could have been.

Sometimes, Hizashi would cook dinner, setting up a romantic atmosphere in the dining room, as though you were on a real date. Aizawa would pour wine, speaking softly about his day, his eyes never leaving yours. They acted as though this was love, as though this was how things were meant to be.

And slowly, painfully, you began to understand. You began to realize that the only way to survive, to have any hope of escape, was to play along.

So you did.

You forced yourself to smile during their twisted “dates.” You laughed at Hizashi’s jokes, even when your stomach churned with revulsion. You leaned into Aizawa’s touch, allowing him to pet your hair, to hold you like you were his most prized possession. It was excruciating, but it worked.

Over time, they started to trust you more. The chains became looser, the supervision less strict. They allowed you more freedom within the house, slowly granting you access to areas beyond the small prison of your room.

And one day, they made their first mistake.

The window was cracked just slightly, a minuscule error in Aizawa’s otherwise meticulous preparation. It was late, and the two of them had returned home exhausted from their day as heroes. Hizashi had fallen asleep on the couch, and Aizawa, for once, had let his guard down, leaving you alone for just a little too long.

It was all you needed.

With trembling hands, you wedged a piece of furniture under the window and managed to pry it open just enough to slip your body through. The adrenaline pumping through your veins pushed you forward, giving you strength you hadn’t felt in months.

The night air hit your skin like a shock to the system, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you were free.

You ran.

Your bare feet pounded against the pavement as you sprinted down the dark, empty streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You didn’t know where you were going—just away. Away from the nightmare that had consumed your life, away from the men who had taken everything from you.

But you didn’t make it far.

A dark figure appeared in your path, blocking your escape. Aizawa. His capture weapon lashed out with deadly precision, wrapping around one of your ankles and yanking you off your feet. You hit the ground hard,stars blurring your vision.

Before you could even attempt to get up, Aizawa was on you, his hand pressing down on the back of your neck, pinning you to the cold ground.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, his voice frighteningly calm.

You struggled, thrashing beneath him, but he didn’t budge. His grip was ironclad, his body heavy against yours. “Let me go!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “Let me go!”

“You know we can’t do that,” he said, tightening his hold. “We gave you freedom, and you tried to run. You betrayed our trust, (Y/n).”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and then Hizashi was there, his face pale with shock and fury. His usual cheerfulness was gone, replaced by an expression of raw, hurt and anger.

“Why, baby?” Hizashi asked, his voice trembling with emotion. “We trusted you. We thought you were starting to understand.”

Your chest heaved with sobs as you lay pinned to the ground, Aizawa’s hand still pressing down on you. “I… I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just–I can’t do this. I can’t stay.”

Aizawa’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let you up. “You don’t have a choice anymore.”

Hizashi crouched beside you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We gave you everything. We’ve taken care of you, kept you safe. And this is how you repay us?”

You closed your eyes, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. “I never wanted this. I just wanted my life back.”

Aizawa’s grip tightened again, and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Your old life is over. You belong to us now. There is no going back.”

They dragged you back to the house, back to the prison they had made for you. The fleeting taste of freedom you had experienced was gone, and in its place was the cold, hard reality that they weren’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

As they secured the chains around your wrists once more, you felt the weight of their anger and disappointment settle over you like a shroud. This time, there would be no more illusions of trust, no more moments of freedom. They had made that mistake once, and they wouldn’t make it again.

Hizashi helped you to your feet, but the restraints remained in place, a constant reminder of their control over you. The night air felt colder now, your escape attempt now a fading dream as you were led back toward the house, their grip on you firmer than ever before.

After the night of your failed escape, everything changed. When they brought you back to the house, it was as if the last thread of trust they had given you had snapped. Whatever illusion of freedom they had let you believe in was gone, and in its place was a harsher, more suffocating control.

The chains no longer came off. Not even for the brief moments when you had been allowed to stretch or walk around the room. Now, they kept you bound at all times, the cuffs around your wrists and ankles rubbing raw against your skin. The shackles were short, giving you just enough movement to sit or lie down, but not much more. The freedom to roam the house, to take cautious steps beyond your bedroom, was gone; in its place was a constant reminder of your failure: the cold, unforgiving weight of the chains that kept you in place.

Aizawa and Hizashi no longer trusted you with the smallest liberties. No more solo showers, no more time alone without supervision; every aspect of your life was now micromanaged, controlled by them. When Aizawa brought you food, he would sit nearby, silently watching you eat, making sure you didn’t attempt anything. Hizashi had stopped his usual playful banter, and now his cheerful facade was replaced with something darker—a quiet disappointment that lingered in the air, heavy and oppressive.

As a punishment, they kept you isolated for longer stretches of time. They would leave for work early in the morning, locking the door behind them with the chains still in place, and the hours stretched into agonizingly slow days. You had once been left alone for shorter periods, with moments of relative freedom, but now they kept you confined to this room for nearly the entire day, the windows remaining bolted shut, and the darkness outside became a reflection of the suffocating isolation that filled every corner of your mind.

At first, you tried to resist, clinging to your anger and resentment. You reminded yourself of what they had done, what they had taken from you. They had betrayed your trust, warped their love into something controlling and manipulative. But as the days passed, the isolation began to wear you down. There was no escape, no reprieve from the constant silence, the never-ending loneliness.

Without them, there was nothing. No sound, no presence, no life. You spent hours staring at the walls, your mind circling endlessly around the same dark thoughts. You tried to distract yourself, tried to hold onto whatever fragments of sanity you had left, but it was impossible. The isolation gnawed at you, piece by piece, until all that was left was a hollow ache that you couldn’t ignore.

And then, something worse started to happen.

You began to miss them.

It wasn’t like before, when their presence had been a reminder of your prison. Now, after days spent in silence, you found yourself waiting for the sound of the door unlocking, for the moment when one of them would return. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t deny the twisted relief that washed over you when Aizawa stepped through the door after his patrol, or when Hizashi’s bright voice called out a greeting from the hallway.

It wasn’t that you forgot what they had done. You didn’t. You could never forget. But the need for human interaction, for any kind of connection, had become overwhelming. Your mind, starved of contact, began to cling to the smallest scraps of attention they gave you. You were so, so utterly alone, that even their possessive touches and controlling words felt like something you could hold onto. Anything was better than the crushing loneliness of your room.

You tried to fight it. You tried to remind yourself that they weren’t your saviors—they were the ones who had taken everything from you. But it became harder and harder to maintain that anger when you were trapped in that room for days on end with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company.

But the loneliness warped your emotions, twisting them into something unrecognizable. You found yourself anticipating their return, eager for those moments when they would sit with you, talk to you, touch you. Even if their affection was twisted and wrong, it was still something. And in your isolation, even that “something” became precious.

You hated how your body responded when Aizawa gently stroked your hair, the way your heart skipped when Hizashi smiled at you, even if his smiles no longer carried the same warmth they once did. It was disgusting, shameful, but you couldn’t help it. You were human, and humans weren’t meant to be alone. Not like this.

It became your routine: waiting. Waiting for the sound of footsteps outside the door, waiting for the moment when they would come back and break the silence that was slowly driving you mad. You didn’t want to feel this way—you wanted to resist, to fight back—but how could you fight against something as basic as the need for human connection?

When they finally came back from work, you found yourself relaxing in a way that scared you. The familiar weight of their presence in the room brought a twisted comfort, even if it was accompanied by chains and control. They would sit with you, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking as if nothing had changed. Hizashi would brush his fingers through your hair, and Aizawa would sit beside you, his quiet presence grounding you in ways you hated to admit.

There were no more "dates," not after your escape attempt. Instead, they kept you tethered to your room, the shackles around your ankles and wrists reminding you of your place. But they still tried to give you affection, as if they believed they could make you love them again.

And in your darkest moments, you wondered if they already had.

You hated how you looked forward to the simple touch of Hizashi's hand on your shoulder, or the rare moments when Aizawa would sit close enough for you to feel his warmth. It was twisted, and you knew it. They had stolen your freedom, taken your life, and yet, your body craved the attention. It was sickening.

You had nothing else. No friends, no family, no life outside these four walls. Aizawa and Hizashi had become your entire world, and no matter how much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t deny that part of you—some deep, desperate part of you—needed them now.

It was a slow, agonizing process, but as the days turned into weeks, you began to accept your new reality. The loneliness was unbearable, and the only relief came from them. You found yourself smiling at Hizashi’s jokes, leaning into Aizawa’s quiet presence, not because you forgave them, but because it was the only way to survive.

You told yourself it was a strategy, a way to make them trust you again. You needed to play along, to make them believe you were starting to accept this life, so they would loosen the chains, and give you more freedom again (yeah, like they'd fall for that trick again). And maybe, one day, you would find another opportunity to escape.

But deep down, you weren’t sure if that was the truth anymore.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments when you were alone, you wondered if you were starting to lose yourself. If the isolation and control had finally broken something inside of you. You despised the chains, but the thought of being left completely alone again terrified you.

So you played along. You smiled when they came home, you laughed at Hizashi’s jokes, and you leaned into Aizawa’s comforting presence. 

You were losing yourself, piece by piece, but you couldn’t stop. It was the only way to survive.

And the worst part? A small, shameful part of you almost didn’t mind anymore.