Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is an aerial view of Jaku City and what a nightmare. I’m estimating a third of the city has been completely leveled. Heroes and rescue teams are evacuating citizens, but look at the current state of the streets! It’s chaos down there!”

The atmosphere hung heavy with an eerie stillness as gray clouds veiled the sky, casting a somber pallor over the landscape. The aftermath of the earthquakes -not really earthquakes though- had left the surrounding areas utterly destroyed, marked by visible scars on the once-familiar terrain. Buildings stood with cracked facades and leaning structures, monuments to the violent tremors that had shaken the earth.

The air carried a subtle scent of dust and despair, as remnants of fallen debris lay scattered across the desolate streets. The ground itself seemed to mourn, with fractured pavements and uneven surfaces reflecting the seismic upheaval that had taken place. A disquieting silence loomed, interrupted only by the occasional creaking of damaged structures and the distant sounds of emergency sirens.

The sky, a canvas of muted grays, hung low and foreboding, threatening rain that never seemed to fall. A melancholic breeze whispered through the skeletal remains of trees, their branches stripped bare of leaves, mirroring the stripped-down essence of the shaken environment.

The gloomy day was painted in muted hues, devoid of the vibrant life that once characterized the area. Even the sunlight struggled to penetrate the thick blanket of clouds, casting feeble rays that failed to dispel the pervasive murkiness. Shadows danced somberly across the broken landscape, accentuating the stark contrast between the pre-quake vibrancy and the current desolation.

“Dust clouds are obscuring the extent of the damage here, but the scene calls to mind the disaster in Deika City. What terrible force are the heroes fighting against?“

The screams were the worst of it though.

The screams echoed through the desolation, haunting and raw, carrying the weight of shattered lives and fractured hearts. They cut through the stagnant air like a knife, a heart-wrenching symphony of anguish that reverberated off damaged buildings, amplifying the grim reality of the aftermath.

People wandered aimlessly through the debris, their faces etched with shock and sorrow. Each scream was a painful reminder of the human cost, a piercing cry that seemed to encapsulate the collective trauma of the seismic events. Rescue teams worked tirelessly amidst the ruins, their efforts punctuated by the distant wails of those mourning lost loved ones.

“Hosu City, Camino Ward, and now this in Jaku. There seems to be no end to the massive terror1st attacks that began last year. And despite the army of police officers and pros on the ground, no information whatsoever has been released to the press. It begs the question: did authorities know about this catastrophe before it happened?”

The once-bustling streets now stood as empty corridors of anguish, with the occasional survivor stumbling through the wreckage, searching for solace amid the chaos. The city’s heartbeat, once vibrant and pulsating, now throbbed with a slow, mournful rhythm.

Rescue dogs barked in the distance, their keen senses detecting signs of life or the unfortunate lack thereof. Even to their senses, they knew something had gone terribly wrong and their little faces reflected the sombre outlook around them. Emergency responders, draped in dust-covered uniforms, moved with grim determination, their expressions reflecting the enormity of the tragedy. Sirens continued to wail intermittently, a mournful accompaniment to the permeating silence that followed each aftershock.

“Whatever the case, there’s no doubt that the destruction we’re witnessing today is worse than any incident in recent history. You have to wonder what exactly is going on in Japan right now. Is this the new normal?”

Amidst the broken landscape, makeshift memorials began to emerge – small collections of flowers, teddy bears, and handwritten notes left as tributes to those who had perished. The screams had subsided into a collective hush, leaving behind a city that seemed to be holding its breath, suspended between the echoes of tragedy and the slow, painful process of rebuilding.

But even if the battles of that city had ceded their horrors, there was another battle still raging on.

“What sort of dangerous future are we heading towards?”

Amidst the sorrowful symphony cities away, Izuku stood amidst the ruins, his eyes fixated on Shigaraki who emerged from the shadows like a specter. The screams had momentarily faded into the background, replaced by an unsettling stillness as the two adversaries locked eyes.

Gran Torino stares at Izuku and Bakugo, his eyes stern. But Izuku couldn’t help but notice that his hands clenched tighter with every passing second. The hero’s brows were furrowed and his left eye twitched every odd minute or so. But his composure remained rigid. “It appears that the many Quirks All For One collected over the years were transplanted into Shigaraki,” Gran Torino explains, teeth clenching at the thought and Izuku’s heart jerked with fear. “That’s what Present Mic said, anyway. Still, right now, he’s just one person. If we can’t stop him, then what’s the point of there being so many heroes in this world?” Gran Torino sounded like he was trying to convince himself more so than Izuku or Bakugo.

Shigaraki, his disheveled hair hanging over his face like a macabre curtain, grinned with a malevolence that sent shivers down Izuku’s spine. The destruction around him seemed to mirror the chaos within Shigaraki’s very being, an embodiment of the havoc he sought to unleash upon the world.

Izuku was clad in the tattered remnants of his hero costume, and he clenches his fists, his jaw set with a determination that transcended the surrounding desolation. The scars of the recent tremors were not only etched into the cityscape, but also into Izuku’s heart. He understood that this battle would be more than just a clash of powers; it was a confrontation between ideals, a struggle for the soul of a broken world.

A blood curling roar echoes through the air. And then another roar sounds…. And then another. And then another.

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat as he lays eyes on the advancing horde of Nomu emerging from the debris. The realization hits him like a physical blow, and a shiver of dread coursed through his veins. The grotesque figures, once ordinary humans, now twisted into monstrous entities, lumbered ominously through the shattered cityscape.

“No,” Izuku breathes, horror exploding in every crevice of his being. His eyes sweep towards the destructive entities that had no cognitive thought nor emotion.

Their hideous appearance, proof of the perverse experiments that had transformed them, sent a chill down Izuku’s spine. Each Nomu seemed like a nightmarish fusion of human and machine, with distorted limbs and eerie, lifeless expressions. The dull glow of their vacant eyes contrasted starkly against the backdrop of destruction, casting an otherworldly pallor upon the scene.

Izuku’s mind raced to comprehend the sheer scale of the threat before him. The Nomu, remnants of Shigaraki’s chaotic assault, now stood as silent enforcers of death. The air hung heavy with the weight of their presence, and the haunting groans and maniacal cackles emanating from the Nomu that added an eerie soundtrack to the apocalyptic tableau.

At that moment, Izuku felt the gravity of the situation, the helplessness that accompanied the sight of such overwhelming devastation. His heart pounded in his chest as he grappled with the harsh reality that the battle had taken a perilous turn.

“Not good!” Gran Torino lets out a multitude of expletives that has Izuku wanting to do the exact same. “They’re heading for Eraser Head now! You two keep yourselves hidden!” The short hero orders and when it looks like the two students would argue with him, he snarls a retort, eyes almost black in his worry, “There isn’t a worse scenario than him stealing One For All.” Gran Torino retorts, tone solemn yet fierce. And when Izuku turns to look at him, the hero looks taller than he actually was, shoulders confident and ready to hold the weight of the world, “Who would ever be able to defeat him then?” His next words were muttered gently, but they were no less horrifying- no less prominent in meaning.

And Izuku is left staring at the hero’s back.

He didn’t want to fight at first. And the fear that was gripping him was almost paralyzing in its capacity.

But then Shigaraki aimed at Aizawa Sensei.

And his feet just moved.

A surge of intense emotion coursed through Izuku as he witnessed his friends all suffer under the weight of his inherited foe who desired for nothing but his death. The weight of the devastation, the screams of the wounded, and the overwhelming sense of responsibility converged into a boiling point within him. In that moment, anger, frustration, and a burning desire to protect erupted like a volatile inferno.

Izuku’s eyes glowed with an intense determination, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The air crackled with the raw energy of his emotions, and a dark aura seemed to envelop him as he tapped into the power of One For All. But there was something more—an additional force that manifested itself in the form of black tendrils, an extension of his newfound Quirk, Blackwhip.

With an explosive burst of energy, the shadowy tendrils erupted from Izuku‘s outstretched arms, snaking through the air with an almost sentient determination. The black whips, a manifestation of Izuku‘s anger and his resolve to confront the villain before him, lashed out with a speed and ferocity that took even Shigaraki by surprise.

The dark tendrils sought out Shigaraki, coiling around him like vengeful serpents. Izuku‘s attack was a manifestation of his refusal to stand idly by, his rejection of the carnage unfolding around him. The tendrils tightened, a physical embodiment of Izuku‘s will to restrain the chaotic force before him.

Shigaraki, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected manifestation of Blackwhip, struggled against the binding force. The tendrils, fueled by Izuku‘s anger, held firm, creating a momentary standoff between the two forces—one representing the chaotic destruction of Shigaraki, and the other symbolizing Izuku‘s determination to bring order and protection to the fractured world.

In that charged moment, the battlefield became a battleground not just of physical prowess but of conflicting ideals and the untamed power that emerged from the depths of Izuku‘s emotions. The clash between Blackwhip and Shigaraki’s chaotic force became a visual representation of the internal struggle that unfolded within Izuku- a young hero confronting the darkness with newfound strength and an unyielding will to save what remained of the world.

He didn’t know how long it had been. All Izuku knew was that he was desperate. And that desperation sometimes led to actual miracles happening.

And so he floated everyone up to safety.

‘I know this power. It’s Shimura’s,’

Izuku’s screams reverberated through the chaos, a desperate plea tinged with frustration and urgency. His eyes, now with fierce determination ablaze in them, scanned the battlefield as he assessed the grim reality, unfolding. The realization hit him like a physical blow- Aizawa’s Erasure was no longer a reliable safeguard against Shigaraki’s devastating Quirk.

If Shigaraki touched the ground, he would cause another wave of mass destruction.

“I’ll put a stop to you up here, in the air…. using every ability I’ve got in my arsenal!” Izuku shouts, readying his arms and legs for a free-for all fight. “I won’t let you escape, not again,”

My control’s not the best. But... I can get them outta the way. That’s the most important thing.

“YOU MORON!” Bakugo rages at him, “You should be getting far away from that guy while you can! We can’t bank on Erasure anymore.” The blonde was almost desperate, staring at Izuku with horror dawned eyes, hiding behind the obvious rage he always showcased.

“Who else is still able to face off against him in the air? Go! Get OUT of here,” The urgency in Izuku‘s scream cut through the tumult, a command echoing against the backdrop of destruction. It echoed in the heads of the heroes below and left them feeling dizzy.

Shigaraki, reveling in the havoc he had wrought, responded with a maniacal cackle. His red eyes burned with a malevolent rage as he taunted Izuku, relishing the impending chaos. “You like it up here so much? Then how about, after I steal One For All, I send your ass all the way up to heaven, and the rest of your fucking friends right behind you?” Shigaraki’s grin painted a macabre picture against the backdrop of the ravaged city.

The response from Izuku was visceral, a snarl that cut through the air with unbridled fury. “You won’t lay a finger on my friends,” He declared, the words laced with a seething determination that echoed his refusal to let Shigaraki’s reign of destruction continue unchecked. “You’ve hurt them enough,”

The stakes were higher than ever, and Izuku‘s resolve to protect his friends from further harm surged to the forefront. The battlefield, once a chaotic canvas of destruction, became a stage for a personal vendetta- a young hero facing a malevolent force with everything on the line.

Izuku would die to protect his loved ones. He would die to save them.

The battlefield crackled with tension as Izuku and Shigaraki clashed above the ruins of the ravaged city. Debris flew around them, each move reverberating with the weight of their convictions, as the echoes of the recent seismic events seemed to intensify the gravity of their confrontation.

Izuku, channeling the power of One For All, moved with a combination of grace and determination. His punches were precise, aiming not just to capture Shigaraki but to hurt. Because there was no saving Shigaraki now. Not when he had killed so many. And Izuku kind of had a vendetta now.

Shigaraki, on the other hand, danced through the chaos with a sinister agility, his decay-empowered hands poised to unleash destruction at every turn.

Izuku and Shigaraki clashed in a symphony of blows. Izuku’s green lightning arced through the air accompanied by the black tendrils that were powered by his rage.

I’m punching at at a hundred percent and he’s still smiling.

The air quivered as shockwaves erupted from their collisions, further contributing to the desolation that surrounded them. The screams of the heroes around them created a haunting backdrop to the duel, a stark reminder of the stakes involved. Emergency sirens continued to wail, underscoring the urgency of the situation.

Although… his body’s not healing as fast as it was… he’s taking damage.

As the battle raged on, the cityscape continued to crumble, and the clash between Izuku and Shigaraki became a metaphorical earthquake of its own.

My left arm’s a mess after the two full-power punches I got in.

It’s fine though. I don’t care. Whatever happens, happens. As long as no one else is hurt.

Each punch and evasion carried the weight of a thousand hate-filled words, as if the fate of the world hinged on the outcome of this tumultuous encounter.

But One For All has been cultivated over generations specifically to defeat All For One.

Amidst the ruins of the cityscape, Izuku and Shigaraki found themselves locked in a gravity-defying duel, suspended in mid-air as if the laws of physics had momentarily relinquished their hold on them. The remnants of skyscrapers and shattered buildings formed a chaotic backdrop, their twisted structures framing the surreal battleground where hero and villain clashed.

Izuku soared through the air, propelled by the raw power of One For All. His movements were a dazzling display of acrobatics and precision as he closed the distance between himself and Shigaraki. Shigaraki, with a sinister grace, met each of Izuku’s aerial advances with calculated evasion, his decay-empowered hands poised to retaliate.

That’s the only reason All Might even gave me his quirk in the first place.

The clash of their powers painted streaks of vivid color against the muted canvas of the desolate city. Izuku’s green lightning crackled, leaving trails of emerald arcs in its wake. Shigaraki’s decay manifested as an ominous, swirling energy that seemed to devour the very atmosphere around him.

Their blows echoed through the air, creating shockwaves that distorted the surrounding debris. Each collision was a symphony of force and resistance, the kinetic energy of their clashes sending ripples through the broken structures beneath them. The city, wounded and fragile, bore witness to a battle that transcended the ground, reaching new heights of intensity.

Izuku was only ever a means to an end.

Izuku’s determination blazed in his eyes as he unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike a testament to his unwavering resolve. Shigaraki, in turn, twisted and contorted in the air, his movements unpredictable and elusive. The battle became a dance between chaos and order, a ballet of destruction that defied the solemnity of the battered city below.

Which meant that Izuku was the one who had to stop Shigaraki. Right here. Right now.

As the two adversaries traded blows amidst the clouds, their contrasting powers created a visual spectacle that captured the essence of their conflicting ideals. The sky sparkled with the intensity of their clash, and the distant echoes of their impacts resonated through the silent city, as if the very heavens were bearing witness to the struggle below.

Using every ounce of strength Izuku had in his body, Izuku would stop him. No matter what happened to Izuku in the end….

In this suspended arena, Izuku and Shigaraki fought not just for victory or defeat, but for the soul of a world hanging precariously between salvation and ruin. The scene unfolded like a surreal painting, a breathtaking display of power and determination etched against the backdrop of a broken skyline.

Even if he died.

He guessed Izuku had never really gotten over his suicidal tendencies.

The battleground became a canvas for their struggle, each movement leaving a mark on the fractured cityscape.

‘…..If you sustain this type of injury, even just two or three more times… Midoriya, I don’t think you’ll be able to move your arms anymore…..’

Izuku’s eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and rage, sought to pierce through Shigaraki’s cold facade.

Shigaraki, however, remained steadfast in his belief, his laughter echoing like a macabre melody. “You are holding me back from my dream,” The man snarled, looked insane and as bloodthirsty as ever.

Damn psychopath, Izuku couldn’t help but think, the anger equating in his scream, “That’s exactly why I’m here,” Izuku’s voice cut through the noise, carrying a mix of rage and horror.

“He needs help,” Bakugo rages, desperate more than anything to help his childhood friend. And it was Todoroki, Bakugo and Endeavor who both shot up for the assist.

‘Even if Deku’s Quirk is some kinda cursed power. It’s still our only hope!’

‘You can call me Deku. But I’m not the same helpless, defenseless kid anymore! You hear me? I’ve changed.’

‘From now on, Deku is the name of a hero!’

“DEKU GET BACK!”

“PLUS ULTRA. PROMINENCE BURN,”

“………….Little Brother………….”

Izuku couldn’t help but freeze, both in shock and in terror.

And he watched, helpless, as Bakugo -Kacchan- pushed him away from a kill shot.

‘In that moment......I didn’t plan or think.’

‘My body just moved on its own.’

Izuku didn’t know how it happened. It all was just too fast. All he knew was that there was an almost chokehold of anger inside of him, the rage coursing through his veins like lava that scorched him with every breath he took.

Kacchan was injured, Gran Torino was unresponsive and Aizawa…. Aizawa - Izuku couldn’t even think of without wanting to kill something… or someone. So Izuku was on a fucking rampage. No one hurt could them. No one.

“He mistook foolishness for bravery,”

So, for the first time in his life, he didn’t control his rage.

And he let it all out.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK,”

As the chaotic tableau of destruction unfolded around Izuku, the cacophony of devastation drowned out the world, leaving him in a disorienting silence. The once vibrant city now lay in ruins, a monument to the relentless power of Shigaraki’s Decay.

The clash between Izuku and Shigaraki -now channeling All For One- reached a fever pitch, the very air charged with the tension of their conflicting ideologies.

And All For One smashed a hand at Izuku’s face, grabbing it between blackened fingers and claws.

“MIDORIYA!!” That was Todoroki screaming.

But all Izuku could feel was the pitter patter of his heart, fear coursing through his every vein.

Each beat echoed like a drum in his ears, the rhythmic thud resonating with the pulse of fear coursing through his every vein. The world seemed to blur as he grappled with the overwhelming sense of dread that clawed at the edges of his consciousness. It was as if time itself had slowed, allowing the weight of the situation to bear down on him with oppressive force.

His breaths came in shallow gasps, the air heavy with a mix of dust and uncertainty. The once-clear path ahead now seemed shrouded in a thick fog of apprehension. Every step felt like a precarious journey through a nightmare, and the remnants of the shattered city served as haunting reminders of the relentless chaos that had unfolded.

In the midst of the chaos, Izuku’s grip on his convictions wavered, momentarily overshadowed by the harsh reality of the devastation surrounding him. The courage that usually fueled his actions seemed elusive, replaced by the raw vulnerability of a young child, who was playing at being a hero and was so out of his depth it was insane.

The remnants of the shattered city seemed to quake in response to the titanic struggle going on above, as if the world itself groaned under the weight of their fierce confrontation.

“You’re finally mine,” The man grins, eerily, almost leering at Izuku with need and want.

“Come to me One For All,”

An excruciating surge originated in the depths of Izuku’s chest, a torment unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It wasn’t merely a physical agony; it delved deeper, assaulting some unseen aspect of him, an internal battleground where forces clashed beyond the reach of his understanding.

Then, in an ominous crescendo, the torment erupted into a visceral transformation. The unbearable pain radiated through his chest, a wrenching sensation that seemed to reach into the very core of his being. In the blink of an eye, the mundane crumbled, surrendering its dominion to the extraordinary. The transformation unfolded swiftly, and before his very eyes, peach and silver scales manifested, draping over his arms in a captivating display akin to a mystical cascade.

His fingers underwent a grotesque metamorphosis, sprouting sharp claws that extended ominously from their tips.

The metamorphosis didn’t stop there; it accelerated with an alarming speed. Wings, as if impatient to be unfurled, burst forth from Izuku’s back, staining him in splatters of crimson. The echoes of his initial screams had morphed into keening cries that no longer bore any resemblance to the human sounds that had preceded them.

As if the air itself quivered with the unfolding transformation, Izuku felt an increasing pressure building within his chest, exacerbating the already unbearable pain. The agony, however, seemed to culminate in a pivotal moment of release. A minuscule crack manifested in his chest, and a strange bubble formed within.

Something shattered inside of Izuku.

His breath caught, time momentarily suspended, and then an explosive cry erupted from Izuku’s lips. The sound reverberated through the air, transcending the realm of the human into a discordant symphony that shook the very foundations of the city. It echoed a tumultuous fusion of pain, transformation, and an unbridled force that defied the boundaries of what was once known.

And Izuku couldn't help but scream even more.

Chapter Text

It happened all too quickly, and Izuku was left grappling with the aftermath.

All For One was flung directly away from Izuku due to an explosion being caused by One For All and this thing -a new quirk perhaps- he’d seemed to acquire, quarrelling for dominance.

It wasn’t another quirk from the holdings of One For All, that is for sure.

And it seemed that it was intent on winning. One For All seemed helpless in the face of whatever it was that had emerged from inside of Izuku.

But his quirk refused to spark out of existence, so now there were two thrums of warmth inside of him, one a bit brighter than the other.

They were falling through the air and Izuku was seconds from passing out; he was just exhausted.

A sudden rift in the fabric of reality tore open beside Izuku, and through the swirling portal emerged a mysterious figure. The air crackled with displaced energy as this enigmatic individual materialized, seemingly stepping through dimensions to fly up beside Midoriya.

Midoriya was internally geeking out because…. well the man was flying.

The edges of the portal shimmered with an otherworldly glow before sealing shut with an almost inaudible hum.

Cloaked in an aura of uncertainty, the newcomer bore an air of calculated confidence. The transition from the ethereal realm into the tangible world was seamless, and the figure seemed undaunted by the abrupt traversal between realities.

He latched onto Izuku almost instantaneously, catching him in his arms, and cradling him like he was precious- oh so precious.

The novel presence that had materialized before him was a tall man whose deep forest green hair seemed to sway with an enigmatic vitality. The strands carried a subtle greenish tinge, their hues shifting almost imperceptibly, akin to the play of sunlight filtering through leaves in a dense woodland.

The stranger’s stature exuded an air of quiet confidence, his presence a juxtaposition of strength and approachability. There was an almost regal grace to the way he carried himself, as if he had stepped out of a realm where nature and humanity harmonized seamlessly.

His eyes, a captivating shade of honey gold, held an uncommon warmth that washed over Izuku like a gentle embrace. This benevolence, reflected in the depths of those golden orbs, felt like a rarity, as if the world had just unveiled a kindness that Izuku hadn’t experienced in a long while.

It wasn’t just his physical appearance that caught Izuku’s attention. It was the intangible…. the way the stranger’s eyes held a genuine kindness—a warmth that felt unfamiliar to Midoriya, like a sunbeam breaking through dense clouds. Izuku had never been looked at that warmly before. Like he had nothing to prove, needed to do nothing to receive such unconditional affection and warmth and love.

As if to add to the enigma, the greenish tint in his hair seemed to dance, responding to unseen rhythms. It was a phenomenon Izuku couldn’t quite comprehend, as though the very essence of nature was intertwined with the man’s being. The shifting hues of his hair whispered of a connection to forces beyond the mundane, an ethereal quality that set him apart in the moment of their unexpected encounter.

Izuku gazed up at the towering figure before him, his bright emerald eyes aglow with obvious awe. It was as if the man possessed an otherworldly presence that momentarily eclipsed the harsh reality around them. The air of reverence lingered until the man gently lowered them both, enfolding Izuku in a tight, protective embrace that spoke of comfort and reassurance.

In that intimate moment, the man cradled Izuku tightly, as if seeking to shield him from the echoes of past wounds. The genuine concern etched across his features only deepened as he held Izuku close, a fusion of warmth and heartbreak in the depths of his honey gold eyes.

“Oh, my child. What did they do to you?” His words resonated with a sorrow that transcended spoken language, carrying the weight of empathy for the hardships Izuku had endured. The man’s heart seemed to ache in response to the visible toll etched upon Izuku’s being.

With a gentle resolve, the man raised a gentle hand and instantly a glowing golden heat was enveloping Izuku, weaving a tapestry of mystical energies. An ethereal glow emanated from the man’s hands, as if the very essence of restoration flowed through his fingertips.

As whatever the man was doing took effect, -was it a quirk?- a subtle radiance enveloped Izuku, washing away the traces of pain and weariness etched upon him.

“What-” Izuku’s voice croaked, his entire body trembling with a mixture of confusion and awe, “What are you doing?”

“Hush, child,” The man whispered, a soothing resonance underlying his words. With a fluid motion, he unfurled his wings, enveloping the two of them in a protective cocoon that seemed to shield them from the outside world. The ethereal glow of his wings cast a gentle radiance, creating an otherworldly sanctuary within their embrace.

The stranger extended a hand, delicately placing it on Izuku’s cheek. His touch, light yet profound, conveyed a sense of reassurance and compassion. “I am attempting to heal you. You have-” He purses his lips, a flicker of rage burning in his honey gold gaze. “You have suffered much,”

“S’ not, s’ not that bad,” Izuku gasps, attempting to downplay the extent of his pain. His words were feeble, caught between the lingering traces of agony and the burgeoning relief brought forth by the healing magic.

The man’s eyes bore into Midoriya’s, a gaze that seemed to see beyond the physical wounds, delving into the depths of the emotional scars that marked the young hero. The cocoon of wings surrounding them created a sanctuary where vulnerability was met with understanding, and pain was met with a genuine desire to mend.

As the healing magic worked its soothing wonders, a profound silence enveloped the sanctuary within the wings. The ethereal glow intensified, casting a gentle luminescence that played upon the features of both the healer and the healed. In the tranquil embrace, the man’s golden eyes reflected a depth of understanding and compassion, mirroring a parental love that transcended mere physical healing.

In a gesture as tender as the softest breeze, the man leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Izuku’s forehead. The touch was imbued with an overwhelming warmth—a love so vast and encompassing that it seemed to wash through Midoriya’s being, reaching the very core of his soul. The weight of the unspoken words carried by that kiss spoke of empathy, solace, and an unwavering commitment to healing.

“You need not suffer any longer,” He murmurs, his cheek pressed gently into Izuku’s forehead as he embraced him tightly. “I will never allow such a thing to happen again,”

The sheer magnitude of this parental affection struck Izuku with such force that he choked on a sob. The years of struggle, the burdens he had carried, and the battles he had fought all seemed to dissipate in that moment. It was as if the universe had conspired to offer him a reprieve, cradling him in the arms of a love that transcended time and space.

He’d always wanted someone to care like this for him.

Tears welled in Midoriya’s eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of emotions that surged within him. The cocoon of wings embraced him, and within it, the healing worked its magic.

“It shouldn’t have been this bad, my child,” He was worried, oh so worried, and Izuku hated putting such an expression on his face.

“I-I’m fine,” Izuku manages to grit out, but he wasn’t hearing a lick of it.

“Inheritances aren’t meant to be as terrible as this,” He grumbles, trying to explain his worry to the young Dragel in front of him. “Initially, when the pain sets in, it can be overwhelming, but it subsides almost as swiftly as it arrives. The sensation should only last minutes.” His voice was so so pained.

He stood in the next second, lifting Izuku like he weighed nothing, his stunning wings unfurling in the sun.

There was a man who stood in front of them, his back to Izuku, and it made something in his chest leap at the sight.

“Hmm, yes.” The man looked displeased, “Your soulmate,” He grumbles, pulling Izuku higher up into his arms, so that Izuku’s face rested in the crevice of his neck. Izuku realized he was being held with one hand, and his face exploded in a haze of red.

“My what?” Izuku was stunned into silence, his jaw hanging lax.

“You were seconds from a full out soul-scream. I couldn’t stop the soul-cry, but I did manage to put a pause on the soul-scream,” The man mutters, a gentle hand coasting through Izuku’s thick curls.

“I don’t understand,” Izuku grumbles and two chuckles sound from the two men beside him.

“I’m your mentor, young one. My name is Heston Lark,”

Izuku’s gaze remained fixed on him in disbelief. “H-how did you even get here? A mentor for what?” He stammers, his green eyes darting around and squinting, trying to decipher the intricacies of the man’s quirk. “You were flying a second ago and then your healed me? What sort of quirk is that?” Izuku asks his apparent mentor.

His quivering hands tried to reach out to the man, but they still instantly, “I’m confused Mister Lark,” Izuku grumbles, but the man chuckles, holding Izuku impossibly closer.

“Oret,” The man interjects, maintaining an odd sort of rocking motion, and Izuku was struggling not to fall asleep. “You can call me Oret. As I am your mentor, it is the title I prefer to be referred by.” He instructs Izuku soundly.

“Oh,” Izuku mumbles, “Okay,” He murmurs, before his eyes flicker to the figure who was standing beside his mentor, unmoving, his eyes trained on Izuku.

The man smirks slowly, and Izuku’s heart thuds so loudly, he was sure they’d be able to hear it. His face bears the weight of his embarrassment.

Because holy shit.

That man was the epitome of beauty.

He was a formidable figure that embodied a striking fusion of strength and ethereal beauty. His wings, adorned with hues of auburn and orange, extend gracefully from his sturdy frame, creating a mesmerizing spectacle as they catch the light. The auburn and orange wings, reminiscent of a blazing sunset, grace the man’s powerful form, serving as a striking testament to the untamed energies that seemed to swirl around him. Those vibrant hues, woven into his scales, further accentuate this man’s supposed affinity for the element of fire. At least, that’s what Izuku thought. His quirk could be related to him being some sort of dragon mutant type.

Cascading down in vibrant waves, his hair takes on a captivating blue-green hue that adds an otherworldly touch to his appearance. The blue-green hair crowns him like a turbulent ocean, a stark contrast to the fiery landscape he held on his back. It’s a visual contradiction, a testament to the duality that resides within him—cool and collected, yet ablaze with the intensity of his elemental mastery.

The interplay of colors in his wings, scales, and hair creates a harmonious symphony, a palette of nature’s most enchanting tones.

The man’s physique is a testament to his physical prowess — muscular and imposing. His well-defined form exudes strength, hinting at a power that lies beneath the surface, ready to be unleashed when the need arises. The play of light and shadow over his toned muscles adds a dynamic quality to his presence.

The focal point of this captivating visage was his eyes- a regal shade of royal purple that Izuku seemed unable to look away from. His gaze was piercing and enigmatic.

Eyes of royal purple, like regal amethyst gems, grace the countenance of the beholder, in this case, Izuku. The striking hue, deep and captivating, commanded attention with its rich and intense presence. His royal purple eyes radiated an air of mystery, carrying within them a subtle blend of elegance and enigma.

The depths of his violet orbs seemed to hold a myriad of stories and secrets, reflecting a profound and contemplative nature. When bathed in light, they shimmered with a subtle luminosity, adding an otherworldly quality that enhances the captivating allure.

“Hello,” He smiles at Izuku and if this was what a heart attack felt like, Izuku could die happy.

“H-Hi,” He squeaks, hands clenching into his mentor’s shirt tighter.

“My name is Zandian Lepell, young one. You summoned me and so here I am,” Zandian murmurs and Izuku was going to combust because they were already on a first name basis?

“I’m Izuku Midoriya,” Izuku responds, eyes wide as he stared unabashed into the gaze of who was his actual soulmate. “H-How did I actually do that?” He asks, head turning from Zandian to his Oret, who were sharing a look.

“You recently came into your inheritance Izuku,” His Oret tells him, but Izuku was even more confused.

“Wha- What? Inheritance?” He squeaks, “What is that?”

Heston’s golden eyes gaze down at him softly, “You’re a Dragel, Izuku.”

Zandian’s hand comes out, almost involuntarily, fingers curling through the thick, fluffy locks on Izuku’s head.

“You’re a Dragel.” He repeats. “Which means you’re a very powerful elemental dragon hybrid.” His soulmate tells him. “You’re specifically a Submissive, which is how you were able to summon me,”

His Submissive’s eyes widen in shock, intelligent ramblings of his inner thoughts making its way past his lips.

It had been nearing the third quarter of the day. And Arielle be damned, Zandian had just wanted a coffee.

Already he’d had to deal with three temper tantrums from the Gheyos under his care and his intended King -once they found a Submissive they both liked of course… which wasn’t looking to be a problem now- was pissed at him for having to travel off realms.

All he’d done was make a single detour to one of his more favourite realms- one of the ones that had the best coffee.

He hadn’t even been there for an hour before the tugs of soul magic were demanding his presence and he’d been portalled directly to his Submissive’s side.

And damn it because Zandian’s heart was fluttering desperately in happiness as wide, wide adorable green eyes gazed up at him in awe.

His Submissive was so cute.

He didn’t think his heart could handle it.

Zandian couldn’t help his uncontrollable smile, nor did he even question or argue when Izuku’s head tilts a little, a questioning warble escaping his lips.

His heart clenches a little, eyes seeking his mentor’s gaze -Heston Lark, who would’ve thought- and the man scowls a little before sighing and handing Izuku over to him.

Zandian holds his Submissive with the utmost gentle care, because he was so so injured and the sight of his battered and broken sub made Zandian want to kill someone. Preferably, the bastard who’d harmed his soulmate.

“You’re okay,” He murmurs, raising Izuku a little in his hands such that the little sub could reach his neck. The Submissive bites down instantly, his instincts taking over in seconds and that was all it took for Zandian to place a similar claiming bite on Izuku’s own delicate neck.

Zandian releases his hold once the claim was made, the bond thrumming happily in-between the two soulmates. He physically felt Izuku slump into a relaxed state in his arms, allowing him a feed that Izuku desperately needed.

“What of that mongrel that hurt him?” Heston asks Zandian, who narrows his eyes a little.

“That thing isn’t human,” He responds in a whisper, his eyes taking in the various people who were eyeing the three of them warily.

It seemed that his soulmate was part of some sort of armed forces, one that enlisted children.

That would be something Zandian would need to discuss with his Izuku soon, preferably.

“But he won’t be a problem,” Zandian grumbles, “He won’t be able to touch a hair on his head again,” The Blood Title vows, “Besides, we can take those things on. Easily I dare say as well,” Zandian looks at the Gheyo Joker; the half-Fae, half-Dragel who raises an unimpressed brow.

“But of course. My student will be safe.”

“As shall my Submissive,”