Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bakugou was desperate, no matter how much he told himself that it was okay, that everything would stop, that he would wake up in the morning and discover that everything was a nightmare, no matter how much he begged under the pillows, with teary eyes. and trembling voice, reality was never more merciful to him.

After the tantrum he threw at the sports tournament, someone had leaked his number, his social networks and even the address of his mother's house.

The real harassment began with just a dozen messages a week, but as time passed, the number and explicit content increased until it reached a few hundred on a good day;

"I don't understand how the UA let villains like you in"

 "Go and Die"

 "Great show you did huh"

 «🖕»

 "You look so sexy in those chains"

 "You should die asshole"

 "Villain"

 "Kill yourself"

 "You don't know how much I would love to chain you up and gag you while you beg for p..."

 "Why are you even alive?"

 "You're a bloody rabid dog, you shouldn't let yourself into such a precise school c...."

 "Bitch"

 "Ha ha ha"

 «[Image] Look what you did to me 🥴»

 "You sure like being in chains, you little bitch"

 “I will kill you and your whole family”

 "Your parents must be so proud of you"

 «[Image] I made this drawing for you, you looked too irresistible 😘»

 "Call me, normally I wouldn't fuck a blonde but I'll make an exception for you and you..."

 "You're just a little bb, mom will take care of you even if I have to keep you in the s..."

He wanted to vomit.

He had to erase his social media, and his family had to move after an anonymous rock was thrown from a window, nearly hitting his father in the back of the head. Not that it was the first time.

No matter how many times he changed his number, and how careful he was with new information, it all continued to leak out.

He couldn't even go outside without receiving all kinds of stares, and he didn't take the subway again after a certain accident.

And even

He thought it would be okay, that he could show the world how wrong he was about him...

He trained and studied harder than ever, he took care and planned his food, and his outings, he was never more determined to achieve something.

And then Kamino passed.

And it all went downhill very quickly.

The internet exploded and seemed to find the cause interesting enough to unite against he.

Mass bullying came by all means, and the few sane people who really cared were buried under hundreds of thousands of people calling him a villain or worse.

He had to stay alert, he didn't even leave the house, and he stopped using his cell phone completely, the nightmares increased, more than detailed memories tormented him every time he closed his eyes. He could still feel his hand on his neck, and at times even felt the muzzle blocking his breathing… his cries for help.

He felt pathetic every time he woke up to the smell of burning cloth and iron, crying out for his absent parents like a small child.

His parents returned home from his trip much sooner than expected, as exhorted at work as he once had been, they would let Katsuki know how upset they were at the welcome.

He hadn't used the restraints since he was 6...

Well done Katsuki, he congratulated himself, now you are chained to your own bed, unable to use your quirk, going into a panic attack and no chance to call for help. Great.

Inhale four, hold one, exhale four.

Inhale four, hold one, exhale four. Inhale four, hold one, exhale four. Inhale four, hold one, exhale four. Inhale four, hold one, exhale four. Inhale four, hold one, exhale four.

Shit, this isn't working he's going to die here immobile helpless barely more threatening than a baby and he deserved it he was training to be a hero he's been training since he was 5 and still couldn't defend his stupid ass and because of him many good heroes died, fathers and mothers of families, hell he probably murdered entire families, all because of his stupid outburst at the sports festival.

It had all been his fault.

He didn't deserve to be a hero.

But-

All might and Aizawa-sensei came to his house one day, they apologized as if some of it was all his fault, they gave him a new chance, he would take it and prove himself worthy of being called a hero, hell, he would prove himself worthy of being even in the damn AU, a spark of hope sprouted in his heart, he could-

NOT

JUST GIVE UP FOR A FUCKING TIME

NOBODY WANTS YOU THERE

YOU ARE JUST AN INTRUDER, A SCAMMER

A VILLAIN-IN-BUDING TRYING TO PLAY THE HERO...

STOP

His friends (and even that was questionable) had to see that it was enough, that their sacrifice had been worth it, before everyone else, it had to be them, their class, their teachers...

So why didn't he feel that way?

The days passed, weeks even, and everything was so normal but so different at the same time.

They looked at him with pity and treated him with care.

Why?

Why would they look at him like that? They shouldn't feel sorry for him, not for him, never for him.

Stop

Please

Please

Stop looking at me

Please

Hurts

Someone help me 

"Aizawa-sensei, I have a question. "

Chapter Text

Aizawa was tired, stressed, exhausted, overwhelmed, and any other convenient word that ends in ed, besides of course, very needy of caffeine, his hero work had already taken a lot out of him, and now, being the equivalent of babysitter of 20 teen problematics who seemed to get the special attention of the league of villains, it was REALLY demanding physically and mentally.

And yet, here he was, grading tests and papers on a Friday night, with barely two hours of sleep in a week and the threat of a meeting with the heroes commission in less than 15 hours.

He massaged his temple as he reviewed the last questions on Kaminari's exam, he didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or give up and fuck everything and resign, he was actually about to lean into the latter when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," He growled, that headache was really killing him.

Bakugou walked in a few moments later, there was something about his posture that caught his attention, but even if he tried to analyze some of it, he didn't have enough head to do so at the moment.

"Aizawa-sensei" He greeted "I have a question".

He just nodded in a 'go on' sign.

Bakugou hesitated a bit before speaking. "Do you think that I...could become a good hero?" He didn't even look at it as he asked the question, deciding that the flat was infinitely more interesting, and that, Aizawa would, think a few hours later, would have been a warning, a sign that something was terribly wrong, but at the moment, tired and stressed as he was, nor did he really think about the words that came out of his mouth —I know, Bakugou "I take a breath, barely searching for the right words —that if you changed your attitude to something less aggressive, less like a villain, you would go very far".

His student stiffened and raised his head almost carefully, a look of deep resignation was what his brain needed to wake up and realize that he had screwed up.

Bakugou took a few steps back, holding his trembling hands against his own body, looking at his master in search of something, and when he seemed to decide that his search was futile, he turned and walked away, his footsteps barely echoing through the empty corridors of the room AU.

And he stood there, just a few steps from the door, rigid as a statue as he watched his student go out of sight.

Swaying shakily toward his abandoned chair, the scene replays in his mind like a loop.

Bakugou, his most stubborn student, most obstinate, one of the bravest, the most dedicated, with big dreams and goals, with shared responsibility for a better future is his young shoulders, a teenager who had been through more than anyone would have to be forced to pass.

Bakugou Katsuki, a traumatized child, who in a show of weakness and desperate need had asked him if he could be a good hero, and he had stupidly gone and called him a villain, had compared him to the same people who kidnapped him, who injured him. and killed thousands of heroes and civilians.

And he hadn't noticed.

He felt like the worst scum on the planet.

Chapter Text

He knew it.

Of course he knew.

He would never be enough.

He was just like them.

«Villain»

He ran to his dorm, his mates (could he still call them that?) too engrossed in his movie to really notice, even if the bakusquad (he always knew that was a silly name) gave him a worried look, but even then it only took a frown and a weak "I'm fine" to reassure them a bit.

«Liar»

They trust you

He didn't take her long to pack, he never had much in the first place, and having blown it all up in the middle of a nightmare he had barely enough left.

He looked at his suitcase, full but still open on the floor.

His chest ached.

He couldn't back down.

He thought about saying goodbye, maybe leaving a note.

But he knew that if he did, that if he picked up a pen and began to write, he would be lost in sentimentality and he would not be able to find the strength to leave.

And if he sees their faces...

«Scum»

He could not risk even if a part of himself wanted to be found, to be arrested even if it was only out of pity or spite, but it was not like that, he took his suitcase and avoided everyone almost religiously, he left through the doors of the UA much later of the curfew.

Each step was harder than the next, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't go back to the UA, but he couldn't go home either.

Maybe...

Maybe it wasn't a good idea.

If he turned around now-

«Coward»

No.

He couldn't do that.

He never could.

He must go now if he don't want to be found by the security cameras.

But, where would he go?

He couldn't stay on the streets for long, they would recognize him and...

«Slut»

Maybe if he runs away to the forest...

Yes.

That's fine.

He spent a large part of his childhood there.

He knew him through and through.

He could hide in there.

Just temporarily, after-

«Why don't you die at once?»

After?

What was he thinking?

There would be no after.

He could stop being a nuisance, a distraction.

...

Yes...

That was fine.