Chapter Text
I'm not going to hurt you
Shota Aizawa woke up to the sound of his insufferable fur child meowing boisterously in his ear, light paws of fluff kneading his hair like it was a stray piece of yarn he'd found on the floor. The man- who barely slept enough as it was- muffled a groan as he dragged lead feeling hands down his face. The sound caused the cat to spring upwards, back curling as it gave a large stretch before taking it's place directly on his chest and letting an even louder 'meow' out at him.
He found himself questioning the rationality of having this nuisance as his eyes adjusted to the light of the morning, squinting as the cat before him simply stared.
"Remind me again why I decided to take you in?" The man rasped, glaring at the cat perched comfortably on his chest. The small black ball of fur didn't seem phased, flashing it's green eyes at him innocently like it'd done nothing wrong. It's face had Shota's resolve slowly beginning to crumble by the second.
In all honesty, Shota wasn't as mad as he probably should have been, considering the cat had woken him from the first full sleep he'd received in a long time. He'd been lonely the past few days- since his husband had left on hero work that took him away for almost a week- and the soft comforting bundle of fur had helped him ease the growing ache in his chest. He'd curl onto his lap while the man typed away at his computer, creating lesson plans and such, and sleep beside him after terribly long night shifts that left the hero not only sleep deprived but emotionally drained.
But, just because he wasn't angry, didn't mean the cat wasn't being a little shit at the moment.
He meowed again, paws beginning to knead through his shirt now, claws poking and prodding at the man's chest, it clearly wanted something- and the man gave a heavy eye roll at the needy (Get it) and quite annoying action.
He sat up, watching as the cat took a small tumble on the bed and rolled a few inches away, where it sprung up and gave a meaningless hiss at Aizawa, more annoyed than anything. "Oh come on, I thought cats always landed on their feet?" He joked, watching as the cat's face didn't change from it's angry scowl. Instead of continuing his assault, the cat instead hopped off the bed and began prancing away, tail in the air and head held high. He did stop at the door and gave an impatient, borderline sassy, meow before strutting out. Leaving the tired man alone in the bedroom with two choices, attempt the impossible task of sleeping or follow the blasted cat.
It took the man a few seconds before he blew out a frustrated breath, rolling his eyes at his pet's antics, before making his decision.
"Jesus, I'm coming you ass hole." Aizawa muttered, flinging the sheets off his body and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He stifled a yawn when he stood, then turned to a nearby chair and snatched his got to flashy yellow sweatshirt, pulling it on over his black v- neck, before beginning the pursuit of his demanding pet into the main hallway.
After taking his first few steps, it became very apparent that his legs and feet ached. He recalled patrol last night had gone on longer than intended and his body wasn't used to running and jumping for almost nine hours- so the muscles in his legs were not very pleased with him to say the least. He found himself curling and uncurling his toes as he made it out of his bedroom door and into the hallway that lead to the living room and kitchen, trying to relieve the tightness in his muscles.
There was another meow, and the hero lifted his head to see the black cat standing delicately on the counter, paws shifting back and forth against the white marble counter-top. Once his attention was on the thing, it started walking in circles around a small metal food bowl, green eyes catching Shota's every few laps.
"You're such a drama queen," He mumbled, rolling his eyes. It'd been a week prior that he'd found the mangy thing roaming the streets alone. Naturally, Aizawa had given it a small piece of cat food he always kept on hands for strays, but that cat had followed him all the way home, and snuck into the house. Since then- Aizawa and Hizashi had made a mutual agreement to keep the cat- though they hadn't made one on his name.
Aizawa wanted to name him Yotsu, while Hizashi told him if he got kept the cat he couldn't simultaneously insult it. For now, he'd have to settle for names like ass hole, bastard, drama queen, and other insults until they found a suitable name.
The cat, not entirely fond of his previous statement, slammed his paw down onto the food bowl. It caused a ricochet of banging as the bowl did it's thing, the wobble of metal against stone echoing throughout the house so sharply it gave him a headache.
"That was unnecessary," He pointed out, making his way to the cabinet where they kept the cat food in and pulling out a can of wet food. "I'm serious, that was a petty and cheap move. Next time- go find a bird to kill or something." He muttered lamely, using the tab to pull open the can and placed the food into his metal bowl. The cat stared at the food, then back at Aizawa, giving a small meow, before digging in.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He waved the cat off, sluggishly making his way to the trash can and discarding the remains of the can. He felt himself give another yawn, and realised making a cup (or two) of coffee would make his day slightly more bearable. He could practically feel the circles beginning to build under his eyes, and he knew working such long shifts so often was both unnecessary and self damaging, but he needed to keep busy... And without his husband- that was difficult.
He opened the cupboard, lifting his head and reaching for the bag of coffee beans-
and his hand conveniently slipped through air.
"You're joking..." He placed his hand further onto the shelf, patting around the area and trying to find the one thing keeping him from having an absolute mental breakdown, only to find nothing. He was completely out of the beans of gold, his will to live dwindling with every given strike. He felt his hands clench slightly and it took everything in him to keep himself from loosing his cool. He inhaled once, exhaled once. and opened his eyes.
Fine, if he couldn't make coffee, he'd just buy one and some beans on his way back. He was pretty sure they needed more milk and eggs anyways, so it wouldn't be a complete waste of gas.
He made his way over to his apartment door, shuffling into his boots with a grunt. So far, this day was just getting better and better. Was all he thought as he bitterly exited the house and made his way to the car.
(The following contains heavy depictions of violence, abuse, and other displeasing topics read at your own discretion.)
Izuku Midoriya had been having a shit day though, in all honesty: it had been a shit few years. But today- today had been brutal.
For starters, he was locked in cage, body twisted uncomfortably in a thing that shouldn't be able to fit an eleven year old boy inside. Yet somehow- his malnourished bones and short height let his dad throw him in there with ease. His voice was raw from screaming and fingertips bloody from fighting against the thin metal in futile attempts at escaping. He'd made plenty of dents in the thing, yet the bars still managed to hold just enough that he couldn't break through. Everything hurt, purple bruises on his arms and a blossoming one on his cheekbone- but the pain was nothing compared to the absolute fear and anxiety he felt within the cage.
Currently, he had his knees pulled to his chest and his body pressed as far away from the entrance as possible, he'd cried so much his head hurt- the ache behind his burning eyes making it almost impossible to sprout anymore 'crocodile tears' as his father called them. He wasn't sobbing anymore, instead- he was pulling at his hair and trying to keep the pit in his stomach from spreading throughout his body.
So, like he said, a shit day.
The door to the basement opened, and the way Izuku jumped made the cage rattle, lock hitting the bars and making a resounding noise that made Izuku want to cover his ears. His eyes met his father's shady figure, large hands, broad shoulders, crazy black hair, and in his hand- he held a belt. The boy felt himself shrink further into the cage, head bowed and eyes focused forward.
"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya..." His voice dragged through Midoriya's brain like the screeching of car tires or the crack of a gun, unpleasant and absolutely terrifying. The boy was gripping onto the skin of his arms tightly, finger nails surely drawing blood. "You worthless fucking brat." To most kids, the words might actually hurt- might sink so deep into their skin that tears might actually be a biproduct of them.
Not Izuku, no- in this case- the boy just took the words and listened. They didn't sink into his skin, they were his skin. He lived underneath the words his father through at him, tore down what once could've been a promising and bright child, and built it up to make an empty shell of a nothing. He had nothing if not the insults and bruises- so the words didn't effect him. They barely even scratched the surface of some of the things he'd been called.
"You're like a disease: you burden and weaken everything around you." He got closer, his feet stopping right outside the cage before he dropped down into a squat- crazy eyes staring at him in the darkness. Izuku didn't know how drunk or high he was- how much he'd downed during his time spent in the cage- but if he was anything like he was the day previous, Izuku would rather die than have to live through that again.
Izuku, dropped his eyes to the floor, avoiding his father's piercing gaze, before something shook the cage from the outside, causing the entire thing to rattle and throw Izuku off balance. He fell forward, using his arms to break his fall as he let out a quiet wince, though it barely made it past his lips before the noise was drowned out. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK YOU LITTLE SHIT."
The sudden raise in volume had Izuku quickly snapping his gaze upwards, eyes meeting his fathers once again, so he could tell he was paying attention. "That's better, looks like you're not terrible at following directions after all." He sneered, before reaching into his pocket and producing something shiny and small, metallic gold shining in the poor lighting. The key, Izuku felt his heart rate increase- from both anticipation to get himself out of the tight spot, as well as fear from what would happen when he did leave.
"Would you like out now, Midoriya?" The man taunted, waiving the key out of reach, teasing and tormenting the poor boy. Izuku hesitantly nodded, lips sealed and eyes wide as he watched the man glare. "I asked you a fucking question, respond with a verbal answer you FREAK." His hands curled around the key, hiding it from sight and Izuku pulled himself up.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Don't leave me here-" He rasped, voice uneven and throat sore. "Please. Yes. Please- L-Let me go." He pleaded eyed shinning as he brought himself forward. The man responded with a grunt, slowly unwrapping his fingers from around the key and tilting his head mockingly.
"You're such a pathetic excuse for a human, you know that right?" He jabbed, before slowly and purposefully gripping the lock and inserting the key inside, twisting until a faint click could be heard. Almost instantly, Izuku sagged in relief, watching his father slowly open the door and- unsurprisingly- reach into the cage to yank Izuku out by his hair.
The boy hissed in pain, feeling a burning sensation rip through his scalp as he was pulled out and thrown forward. He skidded against the cement floor, knee's knocking painfully to the hard surface and wrists scraping uselessly. He felt himself collapse in exhaustion- but at least he could breathe again, no longer feeling like the walls were closing in on ever side.
Before he could register what was happening, he heard the snap of a belt and pain shot through his entire upper back, body tensing and constricting as agony lit him practically on fire. He cried out, covering the back of his head with his arms as he waited for the next hit, instinctively curling in on himself like a pill bug. What he didn't expect was for booming laughter to follow instead of another hit. It caused him to peak through his fingers in surprise, squinting through uncurled fists and trying to anticipate what was coming next.
"You're so weak, you know- you're like a fucking bug." He pointed out, crouching down and taking my jaw into his hands, causing the boy to flinch backwards and whimper. He felt as the man jerked his head side to side, like he was inspecting an object to see what it's worth was. "You're so pathetic, a disgusting creature to look at really. Skinny, pale, sunken, sickly, frail, and just wrong looking." He insulted, eyes scanning over the body of a boy who didn't take care of himself, who couldn't take care of himself. "You're Unlovable."
Izuku flinched at the words, but he didn't dare take his eyes away from his father, fear was spreading through his body- adrenaline shooting through his veins like ice. He clenched his fists tightly, his jaw locked and body rigid and tight as he tried to anticipate what would happen next.
His jaw was dropped harshly, and the sudden movement caused the boys head to fall to the ground- hitting the hard floor with a crack and causing him to blink away stars. He rolled over in pain, turning so he wasn't facing his dad anymore and making a move to get up. The world was spinning heavily, shifting around with every small amount of movement the boy made and it took him a while before he could even pull himself to his hands and knee's, shaking from exhaustion and anxiety.
"Get up." His dad growled, and Izuku had to push down the growing vomit that was rising in his throat, and stagger shakily to his feet. It felt weird, standing up straight for the first time in hours, and the child found himself wobbling and aching as he did. Before he even had himself balanced, his collar was grabbed and he was slammed against the wall behind him. It knocked to wind out of him and he gasped desperately for air- diaphragm contracting weakly in his stomach as he choked on absolutely nothing.
It burned, like oxygen was being consumed but not put to use, he felt himself gasp but nothing really entered his lungs- he felt himself breath but air never trickled in. It was horrible, the wheezing mixed with the pain, and he felt tears brim in his eyes before he could stop them. His dad gave a cold laugh, eyes cold and distant as whatever alcohol he drank or drug he took intoxicated him. I could see the way his eyes moved erratically, and everything in Izuku was screaming to fight.
His jaw clenched, fists curling and body seizing as his breath returned to him, air finally filling his lungs. But- just as the sweet relief of air had come, is father sought to take it from him- with the hands that wrapped tightly around his neck.
And Izuku Panicked.
His heart was thumping so loudly he could hear it in his ears, his mind had lost all rational thoughts the world slipping away until it was just the two of them, black clouded his vision and he knew- this was it. If he didn't do something right then and there, if he didn't move, he was going to die.
The thought of dying like this, at the hands of the man who was supposed to protect him, scared the shit out of him. Almost instinctively, his body acting on it's own accord of self preservation, his knee raised as harshly as possible and connected with his father's gut, the sound of his father coughing and gagging was what followed- and Izuku felt the hands around his throat drop.
It wasn't like how they explain in books and movies, there was no slow motion effect , Izuku's father wasn't knocked out in a single blow, and the world didn't show him a way to fight the man without getting hurt. No, this wasn't a game where the hero fought and bravely defeated the villain- this was Izuku's life.
And in that story- Izuku Midoriya did something he'd never thought of doing in his entire life, he ran.
His legs, moved swiftly, body carrying him up the flight of stairs noisily as his dad screamed his name after him. It was lost in the movement though, once he made it out the basement door he was running for the exit- a flimsy white door that was just through the kitchen. He didn't hesitate or stop to do a shoulder check when he reached the end of the stairs, he kept running. Every bone in his body was yelling at him to stop- to just give up and let his dad beat the life and fight out of him- but when his eyes locked on the kitchen door: Izuku ran faster.
His hands reached the door handle, slim bony fingers wrapping around cool metal, and he pushed down hard while simultaneously slamming into it with his body. The door gave way, and the small boy was thrown forward from the sheer momentum. He stumbled, catching his feet quickly as the sound of his dad pursuing him continued- giving him no time to rest.
His legs picked up speed, red shoes hitting the cement with a loud slapping noise while his hair whipped backwards revealing the bruises across his face. He didn't slow down when he reached the road, body turning sharply as he kept pumping both his arms and legs. Everything hurt- he shouldn't even be able to run at this point. He should be sobbing in pain and clutching his racing heart and lungs, but his brain just wouldn't give.
He rounded a corner, not looking where he was going as he made his way into what he thought was another empty street- and not checking his surroundings seemed to be his greatest downfall, because just as quickly as he had been running forwards- he was knocked backwards as he ran into a big soft sweatshirt. He fell backwards, body inches from the pavement just as hands reached out and caught at his arms- preventing the fall but sending waves of pain up his shoulders and wrists.
"What the hell." A gruff and stern voice cursed, and as Izuku's eyes went up, the stranger's eyes went down, resting on the boys mop of crazy green hair. Dark eyes widened, surveying his obviously dishevelled, panicked, and injured appearance.
Almost instantly, he went cold, body still high and pumped with adrenaline he began to move, a sense of dread beginning to take over. The tired looking adult looked more awake now, and began to slowly lower himself to the younger boy's level.
"Kid, what's wrong?" The strange man with dark hair asked as Izuku struggled irrationally in his grasp, gaze wide and fearful- he kept glancing behind him- checking to see if his dad was still on is tail- wondering how long he had until he was found.
The words were coming out of his mouth in broken babbles, he could barely keep himself from crying and his entire body ached with pain.
"Please- I need- go!" He gasped desperately, body moving frantically and weakly in an attempt to free himself. Izuku felt the man make a move to steady his shaking shoulders, but that only caused him to struggle more urgently. Izuku could tell he was worried, but all the poor boy could think in his mind was how screwed he would be if his dad caught up to him.
"Kid- look at me," The voice was calm, not demanding or angry, and he found himself slowly stopping his movements and turning his gaze to look the stranger in the eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you to tell me what's wrong so I can help." He urged, and Izuku began inching closer to the person, his panic beginning to subside and turn into relief. Help. The word caused him to once again, remember how dire the situation he was in was, and his next words came out shaky and anxious.
He made eye contact with him, blinking back tears, and spoke. "M-My dad... He's coming- he's going to-"
But the boy never got to finish his sentence as the sound of heavy footsteps coming around the corner cut him off, the sound of a man behind him caused the false sense of security, of safety, to crumble in a mere second.
"There you are, Izuku."