Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darkness. Twisting, coiling darkness. Shadows that ripped and snaked around a pale, broken form. Like the center of a starless, sentient void. Thick black smoke curling into the forms stuttering lungs, choking and tearing through the fragile figure. Before, suddenly, a blinding light.

Maelstrom De Luca, Mael to his family and friends, was alone. Once, he had his family, and a few choice friends. His mom, Aria De Luca, his ma’ Bella De Luca, and his little sister, Winter De Luca, were his closest confidants. But, sadly to our dear Mael, they died. The day of the accident had been a happy one. He had finally graduated from high school, top of his class might I add, and they’d gone out to celebrate the occasion.

“I’m so proud of you, Mael,” Aria had announced with a bright grin while starting the family car. All Mael could do was smile happily, for what he now feels, was the last time. They had decided beforehand that they would celebrate at Knights Knook, a medieval themed restaurant that just happened to be Mael’s favourite. The dinner had been wonderful. Filled with incredible performances, delicious food, and constant praise for Mael. The drive home, however, was not as kind. The clear, night sky became shrouded in darkness. The moon and stars became enveloped in inky darkness, the roads covered in black curling smoke, and at the center of this dark phenomenon, the De Luca family. The sudden darkness blinded Aria De Luca as a bone deep rumbling surrounded and enclosed the family of four. The smoke swirled, almost mockingly, obscuring sight of the world around them. And the rest was history. A sharp cry, the sound of glass breaking and metal scraping against metal, and then, Darkness.

Now, Mael was alone in many ways. Mentally, emotionally, even spiritually. Physically, however, he very much was not.

As the suffocating darkness gave way to blinding light, so too did the blinding light give way to something new. A false ocean, filled with oddly formed figures. Some with more aquatic based features, such as gills, fins, and even one with a full shark head instead of that of a human. And Maelstrom, confidant, and utterly terrified Maelstrom, was free falling straight towards them without any proper way to save himself.

However, dear reader, there is more that must be known about Maelstrom De Luca, or, more accurately, his home. Mael comes from a world, not too dissimilar from your own, with one minor difference. His world is what you and I might consider, Hell. Now, this isn’t a polite way to say his world sucks, more so to say, it is quite literally what we call Hell, although his people call it Eternus. You see, dear reader, when our world created religion, it saw into Eternus and declared what they saw in it the two afterlives, Heaven and Hell. The upper rings were righteous and nearly divine, full of the upper class. The rich and well off, and so they were declared Heaven. The lower rings, on the other hand, were the slums, filled to the brim with the poor and needy, and so they were declared Hell. So really, Mael hails from our world's version of Heaven as well. Although the inequality between rings has greatly reduced, becoming almost non-existent.

Maelstrom, while not technically human, is as human as you or me. Controlled by all of the emotions that we ourselves feel. And currently, he felt fear. Fear as he fell down to what would surely be his doom. At least, it would be, if not for the long, slightly moist, appendage that wrapped around his torso.

Typically, when one is falling to their death, they become incredibly grateful to anything that prevents their inevitable end, however, in rare circumstances, it becomes entirely acceptable to prefer death over safety. One such instance is when the thing leading to your rescue is a humanoid figure with the features of an amphibian, closely resembling those of a frog. Now, typically the appearance of one's savior does not impact one’s gratefulness, the knowledge that it is their tongue that rescued you however, does call for at least a minor shudder at how gross that might be. This is doubly so when, what can only be described as a goblin with purple grapes for hair, is clinging tightly to the frogish girl who rescues you. As is the case now, as Maelstrom, too panicked to actually ask any real questions, jumps back in fear, promptly slipping on the slick deck of the, artificially damaged, yacht.

“Oww,” Mael groans, rubbing the back of his head while staring upwards at the dome-covered sky, entirely missing the look of hurt on his frogish savior.
“Are you okay, Midoriya?” A croaking voice, devoid of any emotion based inflection, asks out. Despite not recognizing the name, and feeling an odd sensation within his head as the words are spoken, Mael looks at the frog-girl on instinct.
“Sorry,” He mumbles, clearly taking in his surroundings, although almost unconsciously relaxing towards the girl. The girl merely nods while shoving the odd goblin creature away from her.
“Where are we,” He asks, finally gaining his bearings and taking in the situation at hand.
“Looks like, Kero, the shipwreck zone,” The girl answers, completely ignoring the way her speech is interrupted by the croaking, almost as if it were entirely normal for her to do so, which in all honesty, it likely was.
“Right, because that’s an answer,” Mael mumbles, opening his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by the yacht rocking dangerously as a large wave crashes against the side. “ Right, we don’t really have time for this. How do we get out?”
“We’ll have to fight the villains, Kero,” The girl says, much to the goblin’s utter horror as he lets out a screech of fear.
“But we’ll die!”
Grimacing at the clear cowardice, Mael turns back to the frog girl, frowning as a strand of curly dark green hair falls into his vision. That’s not mine, he thinks, slowly pushing the hair from his face and feeling the dark curls bounce back into place despite his efforts. Mael straightens adjusting the odd blue, red and white workout uniform his, now tan and muscular, form is clothed in.
“I won’t be able to swim in this,” He says, indicating the loose clothing, while looking around the yacht. “Think there’s a change of clothes on this thing?”
“Maybe, U.A. does aim for realism, Kero.”
“Cool, I’ll start looking for some supplies to help us escape,” And with that Mael starts to walk away, only for the yacht to shake as another large wave crashes into its side, thoroughly soaking the three hostages. “Right, we need to hurry and find a change of clothes,” Mael mumbles, rushing below deck.

As Mael crashes through room after room, searching for clothes that would fit him, he finds very little in his new size. The first article of clothing he finds is a pair of black, skin tight, reinforced leggings, the material of which is suspiciously water resistant, based solely on the way the droplets of water seem to glide down them seamlessly after falling from Mael’s soaked form. The next item he finds is a similarly made sleeveless black turtle-neck, with an amusing heart-shaped cut out on the chest, which with the reinforced padding, gives the appearance of Maelstrom possessing a small, but filled, pair of breasts. It would take him some time to understand why that thought did not particularly upset him. The final two articles, he found together. A pair of black and red combat boots, miraculously in his size, also armored and water resistant, as well as a pair of dark purple vambraces, with odd, almost imperceptible, gaps and grooves within their scaled design.

Throughout the frantic search, the yacht continues to suffer the assault of waves. With each passing minute the waves come down faster, before a sudden booming bang fills the air. Now redressed, Mael rushes to the deck, hopeful that the sound was good news.
“What was that?”
“We’re gonna die,” The goblin shouts, terror and fear obvious in his shaking, the frog girl sighs once more before smacking him upside the head with her long tongue.
“The ship’s going down, Kero,” She states, looking across the false ocean critically, “We’ll need you to use your quirk to take down the villains. Can you do it without breaking your bones?”

It takes Mael a moment to realize she’s speaking to him, freezing at the thought of breaking his bones. He sighs, taking a moment to try to understand what she means by ‘quirk’, before feeling something pulsing within him. Focusing on the odd feeling, he breathes, letting the odd energy? trickle through his body, feeling it encircle every inch of him, weaving itself into his skin, then his muscles, his nerves, his organs, and finally his bones. Opening his eyes, he didn’t even know he closed them, a deep, crackling red glow emanates from around him. He can feel the power holding itself back, wanting a release, but keeping itself contained. He doesn’t see as black and red markings slither along his skin, settling like stripes on a tiger. He doesn’t feel as the same black and red energy coats his canines, elongating them into vicious fangs. He feels the power, contained but wild, course through his new form, unknowingly altering it to better match its extreme output.

“I think I can,” he mumbles, unaware of the two looks his companions give him, one of pure terror, the other of unfiltered awe. Before either can respond, or make comment of his new look, he leaps, or more accurately, pounces. His body lingering in the air a moment longer than possible, before he lets loose a roar of power, swinging down his left fist. The force of his punch sending forth a burst of wind, not as strong as his companions had once seen this body achieve, but powerful enough to cause a whirlpool within the false sea. Energy coalesces around his hand, the black and red shadow-like power forming deadly claws around each of his fingers as he falls once more. Before he can make due with another, potentially lethal, strike, his frog-like companion once more grabs him with her tongue, leaping across the water and towards the shore. All the while the goblin looking boy in her arms throws the odd purple orbs he calls hair into the water. As they reach shore, the claws and patterns recede from Mael’s body, disappearing with the glow of power he once held.
“Fuck, that was tiring,” The gasp at his words brought him back to reality as his companions look at him like he’s a different person, which he is, but they don’t know that. Before more can be said however, a loud screech echoes across the building, directly from the center fountain just a few yards away from them. The three peer through the bushes in front of them, only to see what could only be described as an inhuman creature shattering the arm of a man in a black jumpsuit with a grey-ish white scarf.
“Aizawa-Sensei,” The frog-girl croaks out quietly, fear creeping into her voice for the first time since Mael had met her. Before any of them can react, a figure covered in decaying hands rushes towards them, hand outstretched to grab the girl by the face. As the flaking hand of the villain makes contact, fear coils within the three children, because, belatedly, that’s exactly what Mael realizes they are, children. The three prepare for the worst, only to be frozen by a dark, raspy chuckle.
“You really are cool, Eraserhead,” The cyan haired villain says, looking behind him to see Aizawa forcing his head up with a singular glowing red eye. In that moment, thoughts rush throughout Mael’s mind. Thoughts that don’t belong to him. Thoughts fueled with rage at the cyan haired man. Rage for hurting Aizawa. Rage for attacking what was clearly a school trip. But, perhaps most importantly, Rage for directly attacking a child while praising an adult for stopping him.

The RAGE he felt grew stronger, until the power from before came coursing forth, and with it came the claws and patterns. And then he moved. Faster than the hand covered man could see. Faster than the monstrous behemoth that attacked Aizawa could respond. And faster than he ever moved before. His claws, sharp and menacing, carved into the side of the cyan haired man, tearing forth a scream of agony. The behemoth moved to defend its master, but Mael was already gone. Striking the villain from behind his claws tore through the man’s back, barely missing his spine.
“Nomu- Protect m-” He could not finish as tendrils of black and red shadows erupted from the patterns on Mael’s arms, vying for purchase on the behemoths form, tearing and ripping away as the creature shrieked in pain, its limbs regrowing, only to be torn apart again and again. The villains' screams grew louder as Mael tore through him, attacking like a wild animal, the only sign any thought went into each strike being the careful precision to avoid any vital spot.

Before anyone, or anything, could react to the sudden ferocity at which Mael attacked, a loud thunderous Boom echoed throughout the building once more, followed by a deep and almost menacing voice, “Fear not, for I AM HE-” The voice cuts out at the horrifying scene, before, in a sudden blur, the new figure rushes forwards, and restrains Mael’s violent attacks. Unable to stop as a misty vortex consumes the bloodied villain, disappearing without a word. Mael rages against the form, a feral snarl on his face as he lunges after the spot the villain once was, the tendrils of shadow now completely still as the Nomu lies broken and unhealing.
“My boy- Young Midoriya, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

Chapter Text

Mael was starting to get used to darkness, twisting shadows, dark, almost crimson, red lightning flashing throughout the near infinite expanse. A woman, clothed in a black jumpsuit with white costumed boots, a red waist cape, a red shoulder cape, and large yellow gloves, stood within the void, looking directly at Mael, her lips moved and yet, only muffled sound came out, drowned out by overwhelming power. The visage began to fade, like waking from a dream, before a singular word was made clear, “Tenth”.

What Mael next knew was the blinding white of a medical suite, and the looming figure of a frail, almost skeletal, blond man.

“Young Izuku,” the skeletal man bolts upright, far quicker than his form should allow, “You’re awake!”

Mael, or based on the name the man addressed him by, Izuku, was strangely comforted by the man's presence, likely due to whatever connection the two had before it was Mael in control of this body.

“What-” Mael breathes in, collecting his thoughts, before he continues, “What happened?” The man shifts, clearly uncomfortable with the answer he must give. A tired sigh escapes him, the baritone of his voice lowering to a bass, before the words tumble from his lips.

“You lost control, my boy,” He sighs again, clearly debating his next words, "While justified, and technically beyond your control, you brutally mutilated one of the villains, and killed another. The hand villain, who your classmates and teacher have stated to go by Shigaraki, escaped before you could strike the final blow. And the Nomu, was thankfully revealed to be genetically engineered.” A dark silence hangs in the room, “My boy, you must understand, while justified, what you did crossed many lines, and broke many laws. You acted in a heroic sense with your quirk, without a license or permission from a pro. You executed a villain. And you utilized excessive force with the intent to kill. Frankly, the only reason there aren’t any handcuffs on you, is because Nezu is preventing it.”

The world seems to shift behind the man’s words, like a specific reaction is being awaited. That reaction never comes.

“I was defending myself and a group of children from an attack of numerous superpowered beings, how does that warrant me being in any legal trouble? Also, I have no memory of attacking anybody with intent to kill. Hurt? Sure. Disarm? Absolutely. But kill? No,” Mael states, the comfort once received by the man’s presence now replaced with an odd tenseness, “I will not feel sorry, nor will I be punished, for defending myself and a bunch of kids. I attacked with the ferocity needed to immobilize and incapacitate a clear threat to not only my safety, but the safety of others.” 

It’s in that moment that the man looks on in pride, clear, unfiltered, pride. Not for the actions done, but for the determination and concise reasoning behind them. Before much else can be said between the two, the door creaks open, and a short, elderly woman enters the room.

“Good, you’re awake,” The woman mutters, walking towards the two of them, her face the picture of confusion. “Now, we should discuss your condition,” She continues, “You’ve suffered a mild concussion, nothing severe there thankfully. You also fell unconscious from quirk exhaustion, which is to be expected, seeing as you had a quirk awakening.”

“I had a what?”

“Right, I suppose it makes sense that you would find that concerning. In all honesty, I find it concerning as well, due to the nature and origin of your quirk. Before we delve into that, however, we should finish discussing your current condition. You have stress fractures throughout your entire body, due to the strain of your quirk. And, finally, you have suffered minor physical mutations from overusing your quirk.” At her words, Mael looks down and sees the almost white stripes peaking out from under the bandages covering his sore arms.

“Is- Is it just the patterns?” A wince from the blond man is all the answer Mael needs, with a hesitant motion he reaches for the empty silver tray beside him, hands shaking as he lifts it. A small gasp escapes him as he looks at his reflection. His eyes shine with red and black flecks contrasting against the emerald irises. His hair laced with long black strands of shadow, bringing his dark green curls to an almost black, reaching down to his shoulders in waves. His canines now fang-like within his mouth. The patterns on his arms reaching up and over his face, coming down from his scalp to above his left eye, as more spread from his neck to his right cheek.

“From what we can tell, the stripes spread across the entirety of your body,” The woman states, looking at him apologetically.

The room remains silent as the woman checks over Mael, ensuring no other injuries escaped her notice. Throughout the examination, Mael managed to discover their names without rousing suspicion, the woman he learned was The Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl, or Shūzenji Chiyo, the nurse for the high school Mael, or Izuku to everyone else, is attending. The man was revealed to be All Might, or Yagi Toshinori, a teacher at the school, the number one pro hero and Japan’s Symbol of Peace, he was also revealed as Izuku’s, and now Mael’s, mentor and pseudo father figure. Halfway through the examination, Yagi had to step away, an excuse of checking on his coworkers Aizawa Shota, The Erasure Hero: Eraserhead, and Kurose Anan, The Space Hero: Thirteen, both of which were injured during the attack on the USJ. Towards the end of the examination a soft, hesitant knock rings from the door, before a short brunette peaks her head through the now open entryway.

“Sorry to bother, I just wanted to check on Deku,” The girl states, fully stepping into the room, “Tsu said he’d be here still, and I just finished giving my statement to the detectives.” She looks around the room in confusion, her brown hair bobbing as she tilts her head, “Did he already leave?”

“If you mean Midoriya, he’s right in front of you, Uraraka,” Shūzenji states, going back to filing the required forms to clear Mael from her office.

It takes her a moment to recognize Mael’s form, the clear mutations making him look like an entirely different person, but when she does, she rushes him. Before Mael can respond, he's dragged into a hug by the slightly shorter individual.

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you, Deku! You look like a girl in that outfit,” She joked with a small laugh, almost missing the odd look Mael gained at the comment. “Where did you find that anyway?” Her head tilts again, oddly reminding Mael of an excitable puppy.

“Found it in the shipwreck zone, I think that’s what it’s called. My clothes got soaked through, so I had to improvise,” He answers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Well, it looks pretty comfortable,” She says with a grin, already noting how casually Mael wears the obviously feminine clothing. Mael blushes slightly before giving a small nod at her comment.

“The fabric is pretty soft, and surprisingly durable. The only actual complaint I have is the hole in the chest.”

“You mean the boob window,” She teases, gaining a deeper blush from him. She checks him out, fully taking in the outfit on him, her smile growing despite his fidgeting, “It looks good on you though, boob window included.”

After a few more minutes of teasing from the girl, Shūzenji finally clears him to go home, already pushing the two out of her office, and right into the frog-girl from before.

“Tsu! Did you finish giving the detectives your statement,” Uraraka asks, eyes practically glowing upon seeing the girl.

“I did, Kero,” She nods, turning to look at Mael as she continues, “I’m glad that you seem to be doing okay. I wanted to thank you for protecting me, I can’t imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“Oh- I didn’t really do much, I honestly don’t even remember much towards the end, or the beginning,” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t even know what I’ll tell the detectives.”

“Didn’t Recovery Girl tell you? You don’t need to give your statement, because me and Minetta already gave them the information they needed, Kero. That’s why I’m still here.”

“Well, enough about the scary stuff,” Uraraka interrupts before Mael can respond, “How about we talk about how cute Deku looks in this outfit,” She gestures wildly at the outfit, once more earning a dark blush from Mael.

“You do look good in that outfit, Kero. You’re quite lucky you found it.”

“I- I really don’t look that good,” Mael stammers, hands waving frantically in his face, “Besides, I’m a guy, I shouldn’t be wearing something like this.” Neither girl misses the almost disappointed tone his voice takes at those words. Sharing a look, both nod before grabbing Mael by each arm and lightly dragging him with them.

“Wh- Where are we going?” 

“We are going to find Jiro, she should be able to help you realize something,” Uraraka states, continuing her almost destructive march, not allowing Mael any chance to resist.

They traverse the entire main building before they encounter Jiro, a short girl with purple hair and odd headphone jacks connected to her earlobes, sitting in an outside courtyard speaking with a taller girl with raven black hair tied into a spiked ponytail.

“Jiro, Momo,” Uraraka shouts, gaining their attention, as she quickly shoves Mael onto the bench space beside the shorter girl and sitting on his other side, effectively blocking him in. “We need your help Jiro,” She states, staring directly at the purplette.

“Sure, dude. Who’s she,” Jiro asks, an earjack pointing directly at Mael, earning a small yelp and fervent blush from him.

“It’s Midoriya,” Mael mumbles, hoping he’s right that this is a person Izuku has met.

“Oh! Shit, sorry for not recognizing you dude, although, for what is probably your first time being girl mode in public, you look good,” She smiles, unaware of the dilemma she just caused.

“I’m not in ‘girl mode’,” Mael pouts slightly, unseeing to the slight blush both Jiro and Momo gain at the look, “My gym uniform got soaked through, and I needed a change of clothes.”

“Then why the hair extensions,” The other girl, Momo, asks.

“Those are mutations from my quirk. I had an awakening,” Mael says simply, trying desperately to understand why Uraraka and Tsu dragged him to meet with the two, frankly gorgeous, girls.

“Anyway, we need help,” Uraraka interrupts, before suddenly gaining a serious look, “Jiro, we need you to convince Deku that it’s okay for him to wear clothes like this.”

Chapter Text

“Well dude, you’re asking the right person, but the wrong favour,” Jiro states, much to Uraraka’s confusion. “I can’t convince Greenie here to just be okay with femme clothes, it took me a while too.”

“What do you mean too,” Mael asks, completely baffled by the statement.

“You didn’t know? Dude I thought everyone knew! It’s not like I hide that I’m trans.”

“Trans?”

The four girls look at Mael in surprise, his genuine confusion slightly shocking them as they each share a look between themselves.

“You do know what trans means, right Deku?”

“Y’know, dude, when someone is assigned one gender at birth, but later realizes that it doesn’t quite fit them,” Jiro explains, silently hoping that, who she believes is, Midoriya isn’t being raised by a bigot. 

“I, Do you mean Metomorphi? What does that have to do with me wearing girl clothes?”

“Meta-what? Y’know nevermind, Dekuism later. You do know that if you’re more comfortable in feminine clothes, you’re allowed to wear them, right Deku?

Mael stills at the words, giving the other four pause, before a slight dawning appears on their face.

“I, I did not consider that.”

The look of disbelief on Mael’s face made clear to the others as they slowly piece together the issues of their past. All the times they out right refused to acknowledge the almost, at least in Eternus, masculine sounding Maelstrom. All the times they stared just a bit too long at a dress in a shop window. Or every time they envied their little sister for all of the outfits she got, while they were stuck with incredibly plain clothes. And, in all honesty, every time their moms looked at them in concern when any societal norm was brought up. Yes, in that very moment, Mael realized who she is.

“I… I am so incredibly dense.”

“Ya’ think? Any idea on what we should call you, or would Deku still be fine?”

The tilt of Uraraka’s head once more reminds Mael of a puppy, adorable, yet over energetic. Although the question does bring forth many thoughts of her past life, one singular memory sticks out. The day her best friend came out as rhés, or in our terms genderfluid, Mael had learned of her ancestry, or more specifically, her relation to the greatest queen of Eternus’ 3rd ring, Kassandra. Queen of Devinus, She who was above man.

Mael, no, Kassandra, knew the answer to Uraraka’s question, and yet, she was afraid, afraid of what might happen if she were to accept such a drastic change, despite being in the body of another. As if sensing her fears Jiro lightly gripped Kassandra’s hand, allowing for her to take a moment to breathe.

“Kassandra, it-it means a lot to me.”

“Any nicknames allowed, or would you prefer just the full name? I know I was kinda iffy on nicknames when I first started transitioning,” Jiro asks, careful not to overwhelm the newly realized girl.

“Yeah, yeah nicknames are fine,” Kassandra answers, feeling more comfortable with the thought.

The five girls sit there for a short amount of time, allowing the newest one among their ranks the chance to settle into the most recent change in her life. Before long Kassandra sits a bit straighter, clearly more confident in her decision, and as she opens her mouth to speak, a new voice interrupts.

“Excuse me girls? I was wondering if any of you have seen my son,” A short, plump woman with light green hair in a half up half down ponytail, starts, “I was told he’d be somewhere around here, his name is Izuku.” 

The way the woman’s hands shake in clearly restrained nerves, likely anxiety from the attack their class had just suffered earlier that day, makes all five  of them feel incredible guilt. Kassandra especially, now that she remembers that this ‘Izuku’ had a family and friends that won’t ever know he’s gone.

Slowly, with shaking shoulders, Kassandra rises from her spot. Once more she prepares to speak, and once more the woman interrupts her, although this time not with words. The woman, Izuku’s mother, now Kassandra’s mother, crashes into her with incredible force, crushing her in a tight, almost suffocating hug. The woman pulls back, just enough to look into Kassandra’s eyes, and smiles brightly.

“Oh sweetheart! I’m so glad you’re safe,” Her smile never dies as she takes in the full, slightly trembling, form before her, “You look so beautiful, you’re father will be so happy to hear you’ve developed fangs like him, he was so sad when your baby teeth came in and you didn’t have any.”

“You, you aren’t upset?”

“Oh, baby. I’ve told you this since you were born, I will always love you. Whether you’re my son, my daughter, or everything in between,” The woman, her Mom, lets out a watery chuckle, “You always try to save me baby, but it’s my job to save you. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Now, what do I call my child?”

“Kassandra,” she pauses, her mind racing a mile a minute, “if, if you could.”

Her mom hugs her tightly, so tightly that, for a moment, Kassandra swears brief flashes of every time this woman has hugged this form, races through her mind.

It isn’t long before the two of them leave, taking the short walk to the train station. As the two approach their apartment, they settle into a comfortable silence, having exhausted any conversation they might have. Kassandra enters her new room, thankfully marked by a name plate styled after her new mentor, and is promptly bombarded with numerous images of his face. With a heavy sigh, she begins to organize the room, taking down some of the more excessive pieces of merchandise, while also cleaning up the small amount of trash spread throughout the room.

After a short time, Kassandra, no longer able to find distractions from her situation, begins to think, almost subconsciously pulling down a fresh notebook from her desk and starts to write. 

I’m clearly in a different reality. Whatever brought me here likely swapped my mind with Izuku, and seeing as I was on the brink of death… On a different note, according to everything I know and understand about metomorphi, or transgenderism in this place, it’s highly likely that Izuku was as well. I should try my best to start using this world's terminology as well, I don’t want to draw too much attention to myself. It’s possible that my original body survived, and Izuku is trapped in Eternus with no idea where they are, but there is no way to be sure.

I should look into learning more about what that strange woman from my dream meant, and everything she was trying to say. Yagi, All Might, said I was the ninth holder of this power I have, I think he called it One for All? Maybe that’s what she meant? She might have known I’m not Izuku, and thus am not the ninth holder, but the tenth. Or maybe she felt I should look for a tenth holder to succeed me. Kassandra sighs once more, before she continues to write. Shūzenji, Recovery Girl, recommended I design a new costume for my heroics class. Something to better aid the changes to my body. I’ll probably utilize the outfit I found in the shipwreck zone as a base, I’ll figure something out. I should also look into this world’s history. I don’t want to be caught off guard by anything, and I honestly don’t think I would be able to sleep much anyway. One for All, I think Recovery Girl said it was officially listed as Superpower? I feel like there’s more to it. The energy I felt at the USJ is still there, and feels more intertwined with me now. Maybe a result of the quirk awakening? Something to look into.

The girls told me I need to let them help me get a new wardrobe, I guess they’ve seen some of Izuku’s outfits. Can’t say I disagree with their sentiment, Izuku sucked at fashion. Jiro kept mentioning someone named Bakugo? I think that was his name at least. Mom basically said he’s Izuku’s cousin, so my cousin I guess. But from the looks the other girls gave me, he isn’t their favourite person. I think I heard Jiro mumble something about him being too loud? He’s in our class, so I’ll be meeting him on Monday.

It’s just my luck that the day I graduate from high school is the same day I die and get sent to a body that’s just starting it. I should probably start my research now, I’ll be going shopping with the girls tomorrow. I just hope Momo, she said only the girls really get to call her that so yay, wasn’t being serious when she said she would buy me an entire wardrobe. I don’t want her to think people only like her for her money, she’s incredibly smart and beautiful, and I’ve only actually met her once!

With one last sigh Kassandra puts away the notebook, glad that she wrote in Eternian, before grabbing every notebook she could find that was labeled with typical school subjects, and a few that were just about heroes. Glancing at the All Might themed digital clock on her new desk, she frowns at the time.

“Seven-Thirty Nine? I didn’t think I was writing for that long,” She looks at her stack of notebooks, “It’s gonna be a long night.”

Chapter Text

At eight-thirty exactly, Kassandra arrives at the local mall, her hair and shadow-tendrils pulled back into a slightly messy bun, as she wraps a dark green, almost black, sweater around her small, but muscular, frame. Her slender legs are covered by light grey leggings, borrowed from her mother’s closet, followed by the black and red combat boots she found in the Shipwreck zone. Her unease at being so overtly feminine in public goes unnoticed to the passersby, likely assuming her to be your average anxious teen girl. Her nerves, while slightly dulled at the lack of odd looks, remain on alert as she scans the weekend crowd for one of the few faces she’ll recognize.

“Kassie! Over here,” Kassandra looks over at the bubbly shout, pleasantly surprised to see Uraraka, or Ochaco as she demanded to be called, waving excitedly from beside Tsu’s stoic form. Both girls also dressed for the oddly chilly day, despite it being late April, with Ochaco wearing thick, black leggings and a bubblegum pink sweater decorated with green frogs, and Tsu wearing dark green leggings and a thick green sweater covered in pink comets. The obvious matching aside, Ochaco continued to bounce in place, clearly excited for the day.

“Glad to see you came willingly, Kero,” Tsu states, her deadpan expression difficult to read, “‘Chaco would have followed through on her threat to drag you here if you hadn’t.”

“I don’t doubt that, seeing as she texted me my address last night, after I already agreed to come.”

The three girls sit down at a nearby bench, allowing a calm, or as calm as it can be with Ochaco actively bouncing in her seat, conversation to flow between them. It doesn’t take long for the topic of their meeting to come up, especially with Kassandra’s nerves being so prevalent.

“Who all is coming anyway? I know Yao- I know Momo said that some of the other girls might come,” Kassandra asks, curiosity finally besting her anxiety.

“Well, me, Tsu, Jiro, and Momo were givens,” Ochaco starts, counting on her fingers as she lists them each, “Then we invited Mina and Toru. They both should be showing up with Momo and Jiro, I know they were excited to have another girl in the class,” She tilts her head, as if thinking of something else, “Oh! Mina also said that Kaminari and Kirishima might come too.”

“I thought this was just us girls, Kero. Why are Kaminari and Kirishima coming?”

“Because Kiri wanted to go to the mall anyway, and Denks didn’t want to miss out,” Before Ochaco could respond, a new bubbly voice interjects. The voice, belonging to a girl with deep pink skin, black sclera, gold irises, and curly pink hair, is filled with energy and enthusiasm that perfectly matches the girl's attention grabbing looks. With the newcomer, are two boys, one with a shark-like grin, red spikey hair, and a simple muscle shirt and jeans, the other a blond boy with a black lightning bolt in his hair, wearing a plain white tee, jeans, and a black bomber jacket. “Now then,” The pink girl claps, “reintroductions are in order!”

“Kirishima Eijiro, nice to properly meet you dudette! It’s super manly-er, womanly being yourself!” The red-head reaches out a fist to bump, his voice holding all of the energy of a golden retriever puppy.

“Kaminari Denki, nice to re-meet you!” The blond also offers a fist bump, earning a snort from the pink girl.

“Ashido Mina! You can just call me Mina though,” The pinkette states, jumping Kassandra with a tight hug once the fist bumps were over.

“Midoriya Kassandra, It’s nice to meet you all,” Kassandra says, rubbing the back of her neck, “You can call me Kassandra, or any nickname coming from it, if you want.”

It takes slightly longer for Momo and Jiro to arrive, and with them, a pair of floating clothes. Nothing can surprise me in this place anymore, Kassandra thinks as the floating clothes begin to speak.

“I didn’t miss reintroductions did I? I’m Hagakure Toru, but you can call me Toru,” The clothes bend, showing the positioning of a deep bow, before Kassandra is tackled in another hug.

“Midoriya Kassandra, you can just call me Kassandra though,” Kassandra tries to bow herself, only to be hugged once more by the invisible girl.

“Well, with that out of the way, I believe I promised to help you get a new wardrobe,” Momo states, an odd tension in her voice.

“You don’t have to do that! I have enough money to get some new clothes,”  Kassandra waves her hands, almost as if physically shooing the idea.

“But I want to,” The tension in her voice now entirely replaced with confusion at Kassandra’s words.

“She won’t let you say no Greenie, trust me,” Jiro interrupts, casually pointing at her, obviously brand new, and likely expensive, Deep Dope T-shirt, “She won’t even let me say no to her on this.”

“I like taking care of those I care for, is that an issue?”

“No! No, it’s not an issue, I just didn’t want you to think I was using you,” Kassandra tries to explain, much to Momo’s amusement. 

With the introductions and teasing out of the way, the nine of them begin heading towards one of the more basic clothing stores.

“Any idea what style you want to go with, Greenie?”

At the curious looks from the others, Kassandra stops to think, going over her options. While she had helped her sister and moms with their shopping in her past life, she didn’t really put much effort into her own looks, and clearly neither had Izuku, so she was entirely lost in almost every regard.

“Not really, I’ve never really cared about what I look like before now.”

“Well, guess that means we’re having a fashion show too,” Mina shouts, bouncing excitedly between Kirishima and Toru, earning laughter from the two.

Within a matter of moments, the group finds themselves spreading out slightly to find numerous outfits for Kassandra to try. Each of the outfits range from simple clothing, such as hero and band tees with skirts, leggings, and ripped jeans, to more complex outfits involving corsets, flowing dresses, and a few more gothic looks. The nine soon find themselves with piles of clothes, all waiting for Kassandra to try on. It doesn’t take long for a preference to be found, with Kassandra leaning towards the more simplistic looks. Many of the group's favourite outfits include a more alternative or mildly punk aesthetic.

“Oh! My! Gosh! You look so pretty,” Ochaco exclaims as Kassandra steps out in one of the remaining few outfits. A knee length black skirt, a dark green, sleeveless turtle-neck, thigh high socks of a similar shade, and a new pair of black combat boots.

“I feel like it’s missing something,” Kassandra says, her face slightly red from all of the compliments she’d received in the past few hours.

“You should get a jacket,” Momo responds, earning nods from the other girls, both Kirishima and Kaminari looking just as lost as Kassandra. “Here,” Momo hands over a small, black, cropped leather jacket with golden wings embroidered on the back, “This should tie the whole outfit together.”

The group watches as Kassandra pulls on the jacket, surprised at how well it fits her despite being selected specifically for her.

“Dang, Kassie, you look even prettier,” Ochaco mumbles, earning an elbow to her side from Tsu, despite the obvious agreement on her face.

After a few more moments of the group complimenting her, Kassandra returns to the dressing room, trying on the few remaining outfits. Each consisting of hoodies, graphic tees, and ripped jeans or skirts. Strangely, every outfit that showed off her body, or more specifically her patterns, was picked by either Momo or Jiro, while the more conservative outfits, usually involving leggings of some kind, were picked by one of the others.

“We should go get some lunch now, I’m starving,” Kirishima states, his stomach growling in emphasis, earning a giggle from Mina as she pats his arm.

“Why don’t you guys go ahead and get us a table in the food court? Me and Momo can help Green check out,” Jiro says, gaining a few nods from the rest. While the others head for the food court, Momo, Jiro, and Kassandra head for the register, ready to purchase the mountain of clothes. True to her word, before either girl can say much else, Momo pulls out a black credit card and hands it to the cashier.

It only takes the three girls twenty minutes to get all of the clothes brought out to Momo’s driver, before they go to meet with the rest of the group. Ignoring the kiosk salesmen, and the annoyingly large number of political protesters, all shouting about something called Nulls, the three girls arrive at the table their friends claimed. Or, at least, they tried to.

“Excuse me, would you three girls like to hear about the crimes our quirk oppressing society has perpetuated,” A man with purple sunglasses, a black suit, and slight mustache, asks them, an odd pulse in his voice seemingly only obvious to Kassandra. And in all honesty, the pulse greatly annoys her. Before any of them can respond, he continues, “Our society oppresses integral parts of us, making us pretend as if we are not superhuman compared to those Nulls that predate us! Our-”

“Do you mean the quirkless? The very people who managed to make larger strides in technology and medical development, than any quirked person in history? Are you brain dead, or just stupid,” Kassandra interrupts, her words gaining the attention of the crowd around them, and earning a surprised gasp from her friends, “What you’re suggesting, the repeal of public quirk usage laws, would not only be reckless, it would result in higher taxes, larger amounts of property damage, and civilian deaths would skyrocket! If someone with a quirk like All Might’s were to run around using their quirk however they deem fit, without any training or regulation, entire cities would be leveled, hundreds of people would be found dead within an hour, and countless other calamities would take place. Public quirk usage is regulated for a reason. Granted some of the laws could be lightened, but to outright repeal them would be the equivalent of signing the entirety of Japan’s death certificate. Is that what you want? Is that what everyone here wants?”

The crowd shifts, murmuring spreads as the odd pulsing from the man’s voice begins to dull. Before much else can be said, the three girls walk away, finally rejoining their group utterly unaware of the blue skinned reporter watching them leave, as a faint throbbing echoes through Kassandra’s head.

Chapter Text

Kassandra lets out a nervous breath as she knocks on the door, a muffled voice calling for her to enter after a short pause. The U.A. teachers lounge, while not inherently terrifying, still causes a slight chill to run down her spine as she opens the door. She knows that there’s no real reason to be so scared, although her friends had offered to come with her, but she worked herself into a frenzy researching the night prior, and was terrified of how her teacher, her Sensei, would react to her.

“What can I do for you, Midoriya,” His voice is gruff, although not unkind. Aizawa, the very same man she fought to protect, and that fought to protect her, wasn’t all that injured anymore. His right arm was still bandaged, an arm sling keeping it in place, but otherwise he was uninjured. Kassandra could remember seeing his blood soaked face, the intense damage that came from his face being smashed into concrete, but he was mostly fine now.

“I came to talk to you about some changes to my file, Sensei,” She answers hesitantly, her voice quiet, “And I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m sure you can see that I’m doing alright. As for the changes, I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“You do?” Her voice cracks slightly, her fears starting to grow as she fights back tears. That was something she’d been noticing, this body was incredibly susceptible to emotion.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Midoriya,” For the first time, Aizawa’s voice loses its detached tone, a caring note radiating through it, “Midoriya, I promise you, U.A. is a safe space. I admit, your mother called ahead of time, she was worried you might try to avoid speaking with me, but I assure you, that if anyone gives you a hard time, or is discriminatory in any way, they will be thoroughly punished.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” She whispers, her voice shaking as a small trail of tears runs down her face even despite her large, watery smile.

After she calms down, Aizawa gives her a new set of uniforms, and informs her that the girls locker room is available, as well as a gender neutral locker room if she’d prefer. Within a few short minutes she’s changed into her new uniform, and quite a few more staring at herself, and begins the short walk to her classroom.

The classroom is relatively empty when she arrives, she did get to school an hour earlier than needed after all, with only four other students in the room. She recognized Momo and Jiro, both of whom beckoned for her to join them at what was clearly Momo’s desk. The other two students, however, were complete mysteries to her. One of them looked like a living candy cane, with his hair split down the middle, with the right side being a pure white, and the left a deep red, while a dark frost burn covers his left eye. The remaining student looks mostly normal, with blond hair styled like an explosion, crimson eyes, and what is supposed to be a sneer, but really just makes him look constipated. As Kassandra moves to join her two crushes friends, the constipated blond boy stands up with a growl.

“Who the hell are you,” He shouts, voice rough and rage filled, his palms spark as the smell of potassium emits through the room. It takes a moment for her to recognize the boy in front of her, although that’s entirely because she has yet to meet him.

“You can’t even recognize your own cousin, Katsuki,” She knows it’s dumb to antagonize him, every instinct in her body is screaming at her, and the name feels almost foreign on her tongue. She knows why, this body hasn’t said that name in over a decade according to her mom. But she can’t, she’ll never be able to call the brat in front of her Kacchan. Because everything in her says that that name belongs to a friend, not a bully. Even though she knows she isn’t the one who called him that, isn’t the one he hurt, she can’t disrespect that name. Her mom showed her all of those photo albums, the ones where he suddenly stopped appearing after Izu turned five, before suddenly shorts and tee shirts weren’t as common.

“Deku,” The look on his face, confusion mixed with something else, the disbelief in his voice, it all fuels her.

“That’s not my name, Katsuki,” She smiles brightly, the same way she saw this body smile in those old pictures, bright and full of promise, although now, that promise is much darker than before, much more aggressive than before, almost feral if you asked anyone else, “My name, Katsuki, is Midoriya Kassandra.”

Before anything else can be said between the two, she walks away, sitting next to Jiro on Momo’s desk. She can feel the way Katsuki stares at her, the shock, the bubbling anger, all of it. But she ignores him, choosing to talk to the two beautiful girls until class starts. The room fills slowly, the rest of the girls join the three, Kirishima and Kaminari following behind Mina. As the room fills, more and more curious stares become directed at Kassandra, whispers between the boys pass through as they try to guess at who she is. Only three of the people outside of the group remain quiet, the candy cane boy, Todoroki Shōto, Katsuki, and the weird goblin boy from the USJ, Minetta according to Tsu. Of those three, only two showed any sign of caring about who Kassandra was, and both of them had similar looks on their faces, although Katsuki’s look of utter terror was also mixed with anger, while Minetta’s was a look of pure fear as he stared at her pattern covered face.

Finally, a tall boy with blue hair and glasses stands up, prepared to ask who she is, only for the classroom door to open, preemptively stopping him. With a few sighs, the small group moves to their desks, with Kassandra waiting a short moment to figure out what her seat is.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve all decided to remain in the hero course,” Aizawa states, walking up to the podium at the front of the room, earning quite a few confused looks at the statement, “Firstly, I would like to apologize to all of you. We here at U.A. are responsible for the safety of each and every one of you, that goes double for myself as your homeroom teacher, and the USJ incident was a direct failure on our part,” At his words, Aizawa steps in front of the podium, and gives a deep, ninety degree bow, before he continues, “Secondly, the fight isn’t over yet. The U.A. Sports Festival is coming up, and despite both my and Nezu’s disapproval, the HPSC and school board have both made the festival a requirement for all students. Furthermore, they have made it clear that any hero student who fails to make it past the first event, will be immediately removed from the hero course. This means that all of you are required to participate, and you all must make it into the second event at the least.”

The entire room fills with tension as the students process what they’ve been told. They each know that they can’t risk giving up their spots, not after witnessing first hand just how terrifying some villains can be. No matter what, all of them have to protect those who aren’t prepared for the dangers of the real world. They each glance around, preparing themselves for the inevitable chaos that those words will incite. Nobody, however, could have prepared for who would be the source of such chaos.

“That’s fucking bullshit! They can’t threaten our places in this school just to make themselves look better!”

While those words wouldn’t have been too out of place coming from that side of the room, the voice that spoke them, was really what earned the complete shock that emanated throughout the class.

“I understand your misgivings, Midoriya,” Aizawa starts, clearly interrupting Iida’s lecture on profanity before it even began, “However, as I said, both myself and Nezu disagreed with this decision. We were lucky enough to convince the commission to grant us extra security, and all hero students will be given the choice to keep their real identity hidden,” After a brief pause, in which Aizawa makes sure to look at each of them, he continues, “Which leads us to our homeroom class for the day. You each will be given the rest of the week to decide on a hero name. Make sure to come up with multiple, because these names will be judged by myself, Midnight, and Present Mic. Now then, prepare for first period. Snipe will be here soon.”

Without much else said, Aizawa walks out of the class, sleeping bag in hand. Not long after his exit, a decently tall man wearing stereotypical cowboy clothing, redesigned for combat, as well as a gas mask covering his face.