I love how my Izuku is so different from mha Izuku in a way. Like when I say Izuku I mean #1 prohero deku in his 30s with the body build of Miguel O'Hara. 6'9ft tall, 310lbs of muscle. Like mixing Izuku's personality with that figure, that is my izu.
This is officially an Izuku fanpage ladies and gents and everything in between.
sitting on my very own convention panel. i should be proud. a good portion of people surround me, some wearing pro hero cosplays that took years of solid work to perfect. fans from different communities and a good portion came to see me.
see me play.
what do i feel like risking tonight?
a guy slides a card across the table. he's trying to look smooth but i can notice the hesitation in his voice from a mile away.
"iâll give you a hundred thousand yen for that First Edition 'Grounded' deku card. itâs got a corner ding, so thatâs a fair price."
a corner ding? does he think i'm 16 or something?
"thatâs a 2153 printing error from the Chiba factory. there are only fifteen in circulation with that exact holographic offset. if I put this on auction right now, a stan in seoul would wire me 900K yen right now."
i smile brightly, "nice try though, you can come back next time."
"next."
he huffs and gives me an eyeroll before moving over. the line practically extends to the end of the row.
"you think thatâs a high price? that card can pay my rent for the next three months. if you want a cheap hobby, go collect mt. lady cards"
soon enough, the casual buyers scatter from the lines though some remain surrounding, interested in the bets.
"150,000"
"300,000"
...
"deal"
i take the money in exchange for the cards. as you rearrange them, i hear someone from the crowd cough. a finger extends towards your personal binder which holds 15 of deku's most valuable and prized cards in the market. i have never been able to sell them. no one has ever met the price it deserves.
"i want these fifteen. the 'Apex' series. the 'Battle-Worn' anniversary specials."
a choked sound emits from my throat as i almost spit out my coffee, "are you joking? those fifteen cards altogether are worth easily a hundred seventy million yen. you couldn't afford the price tag."
the man chuckles back, "you may be right about that"
"I don't have yen. I have this." from his worn cloak the man pulls out a small, velvet-lined box and slides it over towards me.
"wish willow" my brows furrow as your fingers graze the box. never in my life did you expect to get ahold of one.
i open it, expecting for it to be some kind of prank. the noise of the convention hall seems to dim exponentially. inside is a wish willow branch.
i look between the wish willow and the binder filled with your 15 most valuable cards. gasps and murmurs can be heard as people surrounding murmur amongst each other.
this is simply an investment, i tell yourself, i can make it back.
with a sense of defeat i oblige, "i'll...i...i'll take it." for the first time in a long time i considered a loss. but i needed this. a wish willow could be the one step towards changing my life.
the clock strikes 22:22 once i get home.
ONE WISH WILLOW.
i left the box on your desk, right next to the izuku doll i had carefully crocheted. i had spent two weeks straight on his eyes alone, hunting down the exact shade of forest-green yarn to match his irises, his hair, his carefully crafted pro hero suit. every hue had to be exact. had to be perfect.
the left wall of my room is dedicated to izuku's most heroic moments. the largest large, professionally printed poster of him is displayed, he is in mid-air, cape billowing, fists clenched, Delaware Smash.
the right wall is full of sketches of him. anatomical sketches detailing every fiber of muscle, every fracture from fights. i told myself it would help me come up with better pro hero analysis for my blogs. the fans needed my insight after all. i held one of the largest izuku fan pages all throughout social media.
but still i was nowhere to be noticed. stuck wondering does he even know i exist? i'm 25 now. his age. i've dedicated everything for him since his debut, yet still even with hundreds of thousands of fans, all that monetary value and attention made me feel as if there was something missing.
there was always something about him that lured me in. was i stupid to wish one day he could simply notice me too?
my eyes turn towards the box before the TV absorbs your attention. a live replay of the annual official pro hero awards i missed from being at the convention.
the event fully absorbs my attention. with speed, i jot notes on my pen, all preparing for a thorough video analysis to post tomorrow.
i dedicate most of tomorrow towards curating a professional video analysis. the video does well. it always does. 150K views overfilled with thoughtful comments cheering you on for your attention to detail.
my phone dings, a notification from the notes app, "throwback time! hereâs a photo from from your birthday 16 years ago"
a brightly colored birthday cake sits on a table, its flames flickering as i sit in the center, cheeks puffed out while blowing out the candles. my one for all costume is slightly rumpled from play. my eyes sparkle with excitement. surrounding me are three friends, each dressed in their own unique hero-inspired outfits.
i smile at the picture, moments that are long gone. moments that can't be recreated, recaptured again.
i set the phone down and go to the kitchen. picking up a birthday cake and placing it next to the crocheted doll. as i slice the cake, something inside of me is telling you to pick up the wish willow. make one last birthday wish.
the pro hero talk show in the background is mere static to me at this moment. i pick up the wish willow, allowing my fingers to analyze its texture as i read the instructions more than thrice.
my eyes look towards a picture frame i personally took of him while out in the city. he looked so pretty. my fingers trace the familiar lines of his face. his thick, unruly mop of forest-green curls, framing a face still dusted with freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his button nose.
his round, wide eyes are crinkled into bright, emerald crescents, carrying a familiar warmth. he looks so soft, like someone who could hold you.
a heavy ache hollows out of my chest as i stare back at his printed smile. the silence of your apartment presses in, suffocatingly loud.
i close my hand around the warm, wood of the Wish Willow branch. i know what i want, i have always known what i wanted. spark the middle, break it in half. closing my eyes, the image of his freckled, cheerful face remains embedded in my mind, and finally i whisper into the dark;
"please. just let him notice me. make him see me the way i see him."
i sigh and throw the wish willow along with its box in the garbage. returning back to my show and binging on my birthday cake. i laughed at yourself, probably too delusional for my own good. wasting those cards away to a scammer. idiot. idiot. idiot.
whatever. SHUT UP.
days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. until one day while diving through a flood of work-related emails i come across a particular one
Our media relations team at the Midoriya Hero Agency recently reviewed your highly detailed analytical breakdown of the Annual Pro Hero Awards. Number One Pro Hero Deku was deeply impressed by your unique insights into his combat pacing and support gear optimization.
As part of our upcoming 'Heroes in the Community' digital campaign, we would love to invite you to the agency headquarters for a private, filmed sit-down interview with Deku himself. This would also include an exclusive tour of the facility.
no.
nononoNONONO
i look down at my oversized, faded sweatpants, at the cluttered room of a girl who hasn't left her apartment in days. he is peak perfection. he is the savior of the nation, a man who carries the weight of the world on shoulders built of pure muscle and sacrifice. and me? i'm just a disgusting parasocial, parasitic fan who makes money off his blood and sweat.
i don't deserve to breathe the same air as him.
it took me hours to culminate the perfect response.
Dear Midoriya Agency PR Team,
Thank you so much for this incredible honor. Unfortunately, due to severe, ongoing health complications and an upcoming medical procedure, I am completely bedbound and unable to travel or take live interviews for the foreseeable future. I must humbly decline the invitation.
i slump back, letting out a ragged exhale, watching the email vanish into the sent folder. for days, i thought i protected myself.
Thank you for your prompt response. We were deeply saddened to hear about your sudden health complications. The Midoriya Hero Agency takes the well-being of our citizens very seriously.
After a brief internal consultation, we brought your situation directly to the Number One Hero. Deku was deeply moved and insisted that a loyal citizenâs health should never bar them from an opportunity. He firmly believes a true hero goes to those who cannot come to him.
Therefore, we have adjusted the parameters of the campaign to accommodate your medical boundaries. We have canceled the studio recording and the camera crew entirely to ensure your absolute comfort and privacy.
Instead, Deku will be conducting a private, unfilmed wellness visit and personal consultation directly at your residential address this coming Friday at 9:00.
As a standard safety and administrative protocol for the Number One Hero's off-site visits, our logistics team has already cross-referenced your public business registration data to verify your location.
We look forward to giving you the recognition you deserve.
Warm regards,
Media & Public Safety Relations Division
Midoriya Hero Agency
wellness visit. cross-referenced your data. it was never a request to begin with.
they had tracked my ip and pulled up my legal registration.
my eyes darted to the trash can in the corner of my room, where the snapped pieces of the wish willow rested beneath empty candy wrappers and crumpled sticky notes.
"make him see me the way I see him."
how did i miss this email? today's friday. it's 8:20.
i have approximately 40 minutes to get ready, and that's if he doesn't arrive earlier. god, please don't get here early.
my bedroom is a lost cause tearing down sketches and posters, photos, figurines, and collectible cards would take over an hour. besides i have nowhere to hide them. if he stays in the living room i can survive this.
i rush towards the kitchen. hiding my Izuku-themed shaker bottles behind the cereal boxes, and using a wet paper towel to frantically wipe down the counters.
i hide every blanket and every collectible in sight, throwing them into my bed. the cabinet door almost slams with the speed i use to grab my new clothes. i rush into the bathroom, stripping off my oversized sweatpants, and throw myself into the shower. by the time i pull on a white shirt and a pair of jeans, itâs 8:52 AM.
I stand in the center of my freshly wiped living room, my chest heaving, my hair still damp at the roots. I look around. It looks normal.
but my stomach twists into a nauseating knot.
heâs going to know. the second he walks in and sees me standing on my own two feet, looking perfectly healthy, heâs going to realize I lied to his team. i lied to the #1 pro hero. heâs going to look at me with disappointment, or worse, annoyance. he wasted his incredibly valuable, world-saving time to visit a bedbound citizen, only to find a fraud.
knock. knock. knock.
three soft knocks. my trembling fingers open the door to find the #1 hero at my doorstep.
my voice entirely caught in my throat, ready to stammer a tearful apology for lying to him. but the words die. deku is blushing, a furious, dark crimson creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks. his large, emerald eyes dart from my face, to the floor, to the edge of my damp hair. His gloved hands are twitching, nervously fidgeting with his own utility belt as he shuffles his feet in my small entryway.
"i...i hope i'm not intruding," he stammers, his voice filled with nerves. though his words don't reflect his actions he takes a slow step forward, completely invading my personal space before I can even welcome him. he closes the door behind him with a soft click.
"deku, i...i'm so sorry," i finally choke out, taking a step back as his sheer presence overwhelms the room. i look down as i continue, "the email⊠i lied. iâm not bedbound. i just⊠i made it up because i was too nervous. you can go, i'm sorry for wasting your time."
it take my every will to open my eyes and look back at him.
"g-go?" he repeats, the word sounding entirely foreign on his tongue. izukuâs brows furrow. It isnât the sharp, terrifying glare he gives villains on the news. no. itâs an immature, almost wounded pout. his lips part slightly, a soft, confused puff of air escaping him as his shoulders drop, looking genuinely upset that iâm trying to push him away.
he stands there with an expression of disappointed confusion before his smile beams. his large, emerald eyes lock onto mine, wide and unblinking. he looks at me as if i'm the hero, as if i hung every star in the sky. he looks at me with the very same admiration i hold for him. my god.
"i'm not leaving," he whispers, his voice dropping into a soft, rapid-fire register that sends a violent shiver down my spine. "and you didn't waste my time. iâŠi actually cleared my whole schedule today for this. i had to see you. when i read your analysis⊠no one has ever looked at my pacing like that. But you did."
he takes another deliberate step forward.
"i've been dying to meet you," he breathes, his chest heaving under his armored suit, his breath coming out a little too fast, a little too shallow. he fidgets with the edge of his glove, but his gaze never breaks from mine.
"when my team showed me your page⊠i couldn't stop scrolling. i stayed up until three in the morning reading your old threads. you know me so well. better than anyone else. so⊠please don't apologize for lying. i'm just glad we could finally meet"
my heart pounds faster at every comment. heâs looking at me like he finally found his missing piece, and he has absolutely no intention of ever letting it go.
"can I⊠can I see where you work?" he asks softly, his eyesdrowning in devotion, drift over my shoulder toward the hallway that leads directly to my bedroom. he tilts his head, a faint, breathless stutter catching in his throat. "where you⊠write all those beautiful things about me?"
"my...my room. sir, we don't have to, i mean it's a complete mess." my hands gripping the fabric of mu jeans as i come up with a resolution, "we can just sit at the kitchen table, i have my laptopâ"
"please?" he interrupts, the syllable coming out in a soft, airy plea. he doesn't move away. he looks down at me through thick, dark eyelashes, his cheeks burning a beautiful, vibrant pink. "I want to see where you brainstorm."
my face burns with embarrassment as i lead the hero towards my room. i brace myself for the disgust. i wait for him to realize I am an unhinged, parasocial freak. instead, a soft, ragged gasp hitches in izukuâs throat. he steps past me and explores the posters, tghe pictures, the detailed anatomical sketches.
"you..."
"you drew these? you tracked the density of my muscle fibers after the war?"
i wish the floor would swallow me whole right about now.
izuku closes the distance between us in two steps. before i can process it, his large, calloused hands catch mine. he doesn't just hold them; he grips them with a desperate, trembling devotion, staring straight into my eyes. butterflies are visibly raging beneath his chest, his entire frame vibrating with an uncontainable, frantic energy.
"itâs perfect," he stammers, blushing so hard it reaches the tips of his ears.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
the sudden sound chimes from his heavy-duty communication device strapped to his shoulder armor. immediately the warmth in his expression cools into pure numbness.
the synthetic voice droned, "PRIORITY ONE ALERT FOR NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU. ESCAPEE FROM TARTARUS MAXIMUM SECURITY SECTOR IDENTIFIED AS VILLAIN: OVERHAUL. SECTOR 4, MUSUTAFU COMMERCIAL DISTRICT. COLLATERAL DAMAGE ACCELERATING. STRUCTURAL COLLAPSE OF THREE CIVILIAN BLOCKS REPORTED. CASUALTIES IMMINENT. DEPLOY IMMEDIATELY."
he didn't blink. his chest didn't tighten. he had become completely desensitized to the gore and horrors of his daily routine.
then, like a light switch being flipped back, the life flooded back into his face. he looked down at our joined hands, giving my fingers a soft, lingering squeeze before reluctantly letting go.
he offered me a sweet, crinkled smile, the exact one from the picture frame on my desk. but his eyes didn't match the expression.
"duty calls," he murmured, his voice returning to that soft, breathless, uneven stutter. he took a slow step backward toward the balcony, his green cape rustling against the doorframe. "i'm⊠i'm really sorry i have to cut our visit short. thank you for showing me your room. i really feel like you're the only person in this country who actually sees me."
he stepped out onto the balcony, the crisp morning air catching his curls. he gave me one final, deeply devoted look. "i'll see you very soon."
with a sudden, violent crackle of green lightning, he swung and vanished into the skyline in a fraction of a second.
i finally felt like i could take a deep breath. i walked over to my desk, needing to hold the crocheted doll just to ground my racing mind back into reality.
only to find my desk empty. the doll i meticulously worked on for months was nowhere in sight.
im so embarassed, it's been OVER A YEAR and i finally got chapter 3 down for dreamsync.
im procrasinating because i want to do justice to the story so bad but i know when its done its going to be amazing. my first ever published original work.
i need to make this dream come true likeee i need to.
There's something so eerie to me about the fact that nate seems more calm and collected about cassie starting an OF so she can afford some 50K flowers (insanity btw, those flowers better be hand picked and packaged by Mother Nature herself).
He's just one of those characters that has me on edge, like things can go wrong at any moment.
There's theories going on that nate has just bettered himself. And I get it, it's a 5yr time jump. He's away from his toxic family, experienced life in college, and now has a home and job of his own. Way different environment.
I'd still rather believe he's just become more calculated. Like older, calmer, but still calculated. Not that I want him to be toxic. But considering there isn't much character development shown revealing WHY he seems this way, there has to be a trick up his sleeve.
AGAIN he's someone that cares about how he's perceived and how the women he's interested in portray themselves. That's a HUGE thing for him. So for him to just eventually allow her to do OF, I'd rather believe there's an ulterior motive. I don't trust him enough to think he's gotten "soft".
Some people theorize there's someone else, like Jules. But I have no idea.
I know why Joe Goldberg's YOU recommendations flop
For me I need a yandere-adjacent character to be eerie either become obsessed with normalizing their toxic behavior, or completely delusional about it.
A lot of the recommendations I get to watch tend to be too focused on the murders and gore but I really don't care abt that. When it comes to fiction, you can blow up the whole city for all I care. Just straight up boring.
In fact it's even more interesting if murder scenes are all/mostly made up murder, intrusive thought scenes.
I want the character to be weird, diverge from society norms, I want them to be gross. Come on noww.
yandere deity izuku but my idea is actually different. trust.
walk with me.
you two are ying and yang. you are mother, you make life.
you're the deity of life, but you wear a black veil, black gown. constantly grieving internally. ashamed. burdened with the knowledge that everything you create will be destroyed by him. and there's nothing you can physically do to stop him, as if gravity is keeping you from moving. that's where your abilities end.
izuku, your husband. he's the deity of death.
he looks like an angel sent from the heavens. his voice is gentle and delicate as long as it fits his agenda. his nature preventing him from having any sort of empathy for the lives that he takes.
as much as he lacks empathy, he's obsessed with you.
as much as you hate how he takes everything you make, you're obsessed with him.
because at the end of the day, your "love" is cosmic. a natural, unbreakable order set by the universe that nothing can break. but if anything tries...they'll have a rude awakening.
things such as the tooth fairy, the easter bunny, and santa claus would only stir more questions, resulting in a headache for your parents to explain.
it only made sense for you to pursue a career in ecology, where your beliefs would solely focus on what can be seen.
signs carrying the texts "DO NOT CROSS" and "HAZARDOUS UNEXPLAINED INCIDENTS" littered the entrance of the forest.
even before stepping foot to travel, you heard about the superstitious fables of a god of nature...
a very god place where all who entered would never return to tell the tale.
they named him midoriya after the japanese phrase for "green valley," as no one would truly know what his real name was.
you rolled your eyes at the signs and crawled over the fence.
"people fall for anything."
your legs wobbled once you hit the ground, yet the forest looked nothing like when you were looking from the outside.
rather than lacking tones, you felt as if for the first time you were seeing colors that were once invisible to the human eye.
"i feel sorry people haven't explored this place sooner."
you touch the wood, feeling each ridge under your palm.
placing your bag down, you take out a notebook and pencil from your bag before continuing your adventure.
sitting down upon a rock, you scribble away at any plant that captures your attention.
this forest's biodiversity was far more distinct than the one from your homeland.
from the flowers to the trees, they were far larger; it caused you to ponder how old these plants might be after all.
swift movements are drawn from your pencil onto the paper; the leaves swish and ruffle, and you mistake it for the wind.
but then a sudden thud is heard, causing you to turn from your notebook towards the sound.
a figure that appeared like a man was crouched on all fours from the fall.
dark green curls covered his face, and he barely moved an inch, as if a deer caught in headlights.
with hesitance, "are you alright?"
in an instant he stands up, nodding with a charming embarrassed smile, "ah...hello."
the man came from the shadows closer into the light.
"i'm so sorry! i haven't seen anyone enter these woods in millenniums. my name is izuku."
he had the brightest green eyes and a beautiful face adorned with freckles, and just then you recognized him.
"you are the man from the fables, aren't you? the alleged god of gardens and forests and the reason people won't dare step foot in here."
he tilts his head.
"alleged?"
izuku rubs his hands together and blows through them; as if by magic, groups of butterflies fly out of thin air from his hands.
he asks as in wonder you watch the butterflies pass by you, "was that alleged?"
izuku rushes over to you with excitement in his eyes.
"i have been noticing how you look at my creation with such care, and i really appreciate it, but it makes me wonder, what brings you here?"
you look down at your sketches and then back at him.
"i'm an ecologist; it's my job to study species and how they interact with both living and non-living things in their environments."
"knowing this place is closed off, i thought it would be a great idea to explore and investigate what could lie in this forest."
he says with pride in his chest, "that's wonderful! i can teach you many things and show you so much."
"this is my forest after all, one of the oldest forests on the planet."
you excitedly follow after the deity; amazed by all of your findings, you take out a polaroid camera.
once you try to touch a flower, his hand tightens around your wrist.
"don't," he says, moving your hand away.
"everything in here is very delicate; this flower blooms once a year."
you profusely apologize, "i'm so sorry."
"in all my years studying, i have never seen that species before. may i take a picture?"
his brows furrow from genuine confusion.
"a picture?"
you nod and reveal a polaroid camera.
"it's a camera. i use it for all my voyages so i can snap pictures and look at them later at home."
his demeanor eases as he sees you take a picture of the flower.
"you may. but only if you promise to not share it with anyone; this beauty must remain sacred."
you nod slowly in agreement.
"if that's what you wish for, then of course!"
his lips curve upward, and his palm points towards a gateway of the forest.
"come. there's so much for you to see."
through the passage, the sweet, beckoning calls of birds bless your ears.
his bare feet practically glide through the grass as he rushes past trees.
"you're going too fast," you laugh, barely able to keep up.
then, there it is, a tree of width far larger than any other tree in the forest.
he places his hand on the tree and urges you to do the same.
"it's the oldest and biggest tree in this forest."
"i think of it as my heart and the center of this forest."
before fully placing your hand upon it, like a magnet, a sudden force pulls your palm directly onto it.
"close your eyes. what do you feel?" izuku asks.
a rhythmic drum beats from inside of the bark, pulsating against your palm, causing your hand to retract.
"what was that?"
izuku merely chuckles, "it's my heartbeat; i didn't mean for it to scare you."
beyond the tree he showed you many other things: the vastness of the hills, the diversity of the species, and the crystalline perfect reflection of the waters.
as the sun began to fall, izuku frowned at the sight of you unpacking your bag.
the god pointed towards the poles, stakes, and fabric.
"what are you doing?"
you explain, "i'm setting up a tent so i have a place to sleep."
this answer had created nothing but displeasure and even disgust in his mind.
"a man-made nest? put it away."
"i could make you a safe and more comfortable nest."
izuku excitedly picks you up, jumping from branch to branch between trees.
you nervously cling to him, avoiding looking down, knowing you were most likely over 50 feet by the time he had chosen a spot.
upon a certain branch he stands and places you there.
with curiosity you ask, "how are you going to make a nest?"
the deity smiles.
"you'll see."
as he turns his attention towards an empty space between branches suddenly, they begin to peel, divide, and connect into each other, recreating the look of a web.
moss and ferns begin to thicken at a rapid pace, creating perfect cushioning contrasting the harsh wood.
bundles of daisies grow surrounding the nest.
your eyes widen in surprise.
"this is amazing."
he picks up your trembling hands and lays you in the nest.
"it's much better than any human-made shelter."
laying down, the sounds of wildlife echoing around you send you quickly to sleep.
he crouches down closer to you by the corner of the nest, humming a song that only ancient ancestors could recall before the great flood.
he does not blink, does not feign a breath, fingers delicately crossing through the air, creating more veins and daisies for a flower crown.
by morning you awaken to the sound of an owl's call.
feeling something in your head, you remove it, though smiling once you see it is a flower crown.
you call on the green-haired spiritâs name once you are unable to find him anywhere near your nest.
with a sudden sound of a leap, there he is.
âgood morning.â
he offers his hand out to you.
âare you ready to continue exploring?â
you happily nod and take his hand before you go further back into the ground.
for the following five days you wander around the forest, always by izukuâs side.
he is always watchful, careful to hold your balance between certain steep slides.
each architecture that was the foundation of the forest brought you nothing but wonder.
during the night he would take you to the rivers where dinoflagellates inhabited.
with a single touch the river would light into light blue works of art that would follow your fingerâs touch.
from a tree he handed you a plum.
âif you like fruits, youâll love these."
"i can guarantee it will quench all of your hunger.â
the first bite floods your mouth with juices of sour sweetness.
no other fruit, whether store-bought or planted, could be compared to a pear so delectable as this one raised from the forest.
by the sixth morning at sunrise, you were looking at your page full of artworks and notes with such pride in your heart.
the amount of species you were able to uncover and the experience this place had brought you you would not be able to even express with words.
readily you call on to him once more, and there he was, a bare arm hanging on to a branch.
he said with excitement, âgood morning!â
after climbing you down, izuku takes you a bit farther into the forest, gathering chestnuts to eat.
you sit down on a rock behind him and begin to eat the chestnuts along with other fruits.
âyou know i really am thankful for everything you have done for me.â
izuku tenderly smiles.
âof course. i would do anything for you.â
you hesitate, fidgeting with a twig before continuing.
âbut i should really be heading back; i have to return to my country tomorrow.â
for a moment everything stops.
not the sound of a bird or the movement of passing wind can be heard.
he freezes for a second, but his smile does not deter.
âwhat do you mean?â
eyes darkening, âyou donât like it here?â
you shake your head profusely.
âof course, i love it here!"
"itâs like paradise incarnated, but i have responsibilities, family, and friends i have to get back to."
"they will be worried if i donât come back.â
the deity tilts his head in slight confusion.
âworried?"
"why would they worry?"
"the forest gives you everything."
"no. i give you everything."
"i gave you food to eat, water to drink, lakes to bathe in, a nest to rest in, and a whole world to appreciate.â
you try to portray yourself as understanding, but seeing that he is not able to comprehend is disheartening.
standing, you explain, âi know, but those things cannot replace people i care about."
"i canât abandon them.â
âso you are just going to abandon me?"
"use me and then leave me?"
"i was wrong about you; you are just like the rest of them.â
his smile immediately fades as he watches you sprint, though he does not run after you immediately.
he watches like an owner watches their disobedient dog run through the block.
each part of the forest was imprinted in his mind.
expecting large pounding footsteps pounding the grass, instead you hear sharp, high-pitched howls calling on to you.
it was not one but what could be assumed to be herds of foxes.
with slight glances, you catch sight of blurry fur catching on.
your feet graze the ground with speed; you did not know how much longer you could stand.
as you push harder to move faster and faster, your lungs were quickly beginning to burn, and your heart began to ache.
some foxes were behind; others came from corners, forcing you to deter moving into other directions.
as the hill curved downward, you were unable to stop your speed, thinking you would fall into plain grass.
the grass was far deeper.
almost six feet in height?
you breathe in and out.
each labored breath causes your chest to heavily rise and fall, relieved you hear the sounds of foxes go farther and farther until no longer audible.
however, relief was short-lived as an overwhelming feeling of swelling caught up in your throat, preventing little air from being exchanged.
the taste was not that of burning bile, but something far more edible and less broken down.
you turn over to face the grass, your nails dirtying as they dig through the dirt.
with each thought you begin to wonder if this was your end, choking from an unknown object in the middle of a grassland.
your panic begins to blur your vision before the object finally escapes your mouth.
one by one, chestnuts and other fruits you were given by the god for breakfast were being expelled as if a gift that was being taken back.
overwhelmed with fear, you continue, tying knots among grass in hopes of finding a way out of the grassland.
however, it only results in circles as you continue walking past grass you had already tied.
you decide to crouch before taking a big leap.
for a few seconds in the air, you see yourself only a mere few feet from the exit.
full of hope and excitement, you run towards the north.
but the more you run and push, the more it seems as if you are running in circles.
by the second jump the forestâs exit appears impossibly far, seas of grass surrounding you.
every time you jump, no matter where you run and no matter how many times you jump, the location of your way towards freedom changes.
for the last time you jump again, and the exit is behind you as if you had been running the wrong way this whole time.
you walk towards it deprived of hope before you see the actual exit, causing your eyes to widen.
before you are tree branches and the opening to the outside.
but rapidly branches begin to sprout and conjoin to one another.
you try to squeeze through a gap before it closes but to no avail.
the branches merge into each other, resisting your attempt to widen the gap for your escape.
you cry out as tears start to stream down your cheeks, âno! please!â
moving away, the only light visible is the one above, as all branches close the trees onto each other.
behind you, a hand tangles in your hair into a knuckle.
you instantly know it is him.
his grip is cold and overpowering; instinctively you latch onto his arm in protest, nails digging through his skin.
he only responds with a hearty laugh as if he finds all of this to be comedic.
âit wonât be long until we reach the nest, don't worry.â
he continues, âthe forest needs you. i need you."
(pt 1) yandere cult-follower rural country izuku x stranded tourist reader
the gas gauge inched towards empty faster than the morning sun could come. your vision flickered between the gravel path, rugged trail against your tires, and your rearview mirror.
trailing closely behind, a soft engine growls. a chipped black honda has been following your move for awhile now. ever since you left that port three hours ago...
what's your move?
your boyfriend glances around for a place to pull over, squinting, no streetlights in sight. only headlights could provide you with the comfort of seeing your surroundings. but the isolated landscape offers no motels, no stores, no sanctuary. no cluster of trees to barricade yourself in.
he steps on the pedal, the suspension creaks from such an abrupt command.
maybe just a bit further, you hoped, just a few more miles and there might be signs of life. the tires fought each bumpy terrain, but so did the other vehicle. as old as the honda was it relentlessly fought to keep up with your pace.
your boyfriendâs hands grasp tightly around the steering wheel. harsh drastic turns abusing the already overworked engine. the needle hovered over the letter 'e', you barely had enough time left.
the car gradually slows down before hitting an abrupt stop and the red warning light flickers on once your rented car runs out of gas. your breathing hitched.
"no. nononononono. NO!" he slammed his hands against the steering wheel, once more pressing against a pedal that would not obey. the car behind you did not deter from its speed, you could have sworn they were planning on slamming right into you
but at last second it swerved. a blur of dust as it swerved from view. leaving you in creeping silence. you both curl yourselves lower into the seat and he places his jacket on you to hide your figure, hammering hearts before falling asleep from exhaustion.
the next morning you wake up to a gentle tapping on your car window. you jolt up from fear that whoever was following you last night had returned.
only to see a man with broad shoulders holding a basket of herbs and vegetables give you the brightest smile. with a hearty laugh he says, "sorry to startle you, miss. it's not often we see cars in the west, this isn't a place for tourists."
you glance around the driver's seat where you expected to find your boyfriend is now vacant. you call his name under your breath as if wishing he could magically reappear some way, some how. but nothing.
a million thoughts run across her mind before: "miss...are you alright?"
you softly respond with an obvious hint of nervousness in your eyes as you look back at him, "umm...sorry. It's just that my boyfriend...did you see anyone else around here? he was driving and fell asleep here last night."
but as much as you try to describe your boyfriend's physical attributes and clothes, the man maintains a face of unfamiliarity to the information. he assures, "no, ma'am. haven't seen anyone but you, actually. but, let me help you. this place isn't necessarily the safest for tourists."
you reluctantly oblige, opening the door.
"i'm izuku, you're lucky i found you."
"and why's that?"
"outsiders aren't allowed to roam without a guide."
a few more hours and you finally reach izuku's ranch. the fresh smell of rust and herbs fills your senses. "would you like some tea?" you nod and watch as he methodically prepares it. rather than from tea bags and a water faucet, he gently crushes herbs between his fingers.
"my family has tended to these plants for centuries. in our culture its more than just a medicinal remedy, its a way to connect ourselves with earth again and strengthen our spirituality."
"what do you believe in?" he pauses shortly before responding, "hirukami. it's the belief that everything, every energy is being exchanged constantly for the greater good."
he gives you the cup of tea that was prepared in a hand-cared cup decorated in art works of plant forms. "you should come to the festival tomorrow. there will be a great celebration."
(pt 2) yandere cult-follower rural country izuku x stranded tourist reader (tw. brutal vi0l3nc3)
"may i?" izuku asks before placing the floral crown in your head. you lower your head allowing him to place it on, "what is it for?"
"all newcomers wear itâŠit's a symbol of that we accept you into our space." the festival comforts your ears with the sounds of soft taiko drums, shakuhachi flutes, and light singing chants. you do have to admit that you felt out of place, yet the warm smiles and eager greetings from the natives soothed your mind.
"it's beautiful, isn't it? my wife used to adore these festivals before she passed away," you pause for a moment before responding, "My condolences." though you can't pinpoint any discomfort or sadness in his eyes, rather he replies with giddiness, "it's alright. i hope you enjoy it as much as she did. i have to go get dressed for the ceremony."
you assumed it would be a dancing ceremony. you didn't know how far from the truth that truly wasâŠ
a child bumps into you running around with a hidden toy, bowing apologetically before rushing away. it wasn't just her but many others. people of all ages, their colorful purple kimonos blurring between each other as everyone huddles around each other. as you approached the circle they began to move aside urging you to pass through into the beginning of the circle. as to not appear rude you do.
some time passes.
the sound of their hushed murmuring voices becomes static, no noise allowed inside once your eyes make contact with him. your boyfriend. he's tied at the center of the human circle. all time stops. and for the first time in a long time you have forgotten how to breathe.
just as you're about to bolt towards him, as if prepared for the action, a villager hugs you behind by the chest while others have a solid hold to your arms. you kick you scream, you yell to call out his name again and again and again. "what are you going to do to him?!" but as much as you pull, thrash, and kick too many people are holding on to you. "it's alright. he's going to be okay. you're going to be okay," they repeat between one another to you.
the high-priestess clears her throat before speaking, "today, is a very special day, a date of cleansing for the exchange of something new and beautiful. the council has decided no woman in our community requires to be paired at the moment, this man is excess and must be irradicated." then there he is. izuku, this time not blending in with the crowd as he is decorated in ancient jewels and a vividly green kimono. holding a kama, a tool popular for its use in harvesting herbs and crops.
glossy oils are placed on izuku's head. your boyfriend tries to thrash from the hold a strong villager has on him, surprisingly letting him go. "take claim of what is yours. appease the gods by proving your worthiness to her," she says before disappearing into the crowd.
izuku's whisper to the boyfriend is far too quiet compared to the hums and hymns surrounding you. "you can't do this! PLEASE!" screams and wails emitting from you, yet he doesn't look at you. and as he grabs the kama everything becomes quiet. time slows down. your brain interprets the swift movement of the kama to be slow and agonizing.
an intense scream echoed as the first blow cut through skin and muscle, striking any spinal nerves in its way.
shk. again. shk. again. shk. again. again and again and again. do it again. go through his vertebrae again. hit the lungs again. hit the heart again. hit the bones again. even when the body stops moving, do it again and again and again.
he can't stop. he won't stop. not until the sho plays. and after what feels like an eternity later, the sounds from the mouth organ are nothing but ethereal, a sound of completion and peace. the kama hits the floor, separating itself from izuku's trembling hands. droplets and streaks of blood splattered through his body. it was evident what he had done.
"you have pleased the gods. very good."
the people begin to push and pull once more. yet this time they pulled you towards your boyfriend's murderer. izuku's eyes glistened at the sight of you, even if your arms and waist were held together against your will. the look of fear in your eyes did not deter him one bit from looking at you so lovingly and approaching closer.
a spiritual guide reappears. dipping their fingers in the open wound of your boyfriend. "by the gods' gift. you are now husband", blood smeared into izuku's forehead shaping a moon, "and wife", the very same action done on to you.
(pt 1) yandere cult-follower rural country izuku x stranded tourist reader
the gas gauge inched towards empty faster than the morning sun could come. your vision flickered between the gravel path, rugged trail against your tires, and your rearview mirror.
trailing closely behind, a soft engine growls. a chipped black honda has been following your move for awhile now. ever since you left that port three hours ago...
what's your move?
your boyfriend glances around for a place to pull over, squinting, no streetlights in sight. only headlights could provide you with the comfort of seeing your surroundings. but the isolated landscape offers no motels, no stores, no sanctuary. no cluster of trees to barricade yourself in.
he steps on the pedal, the suspension creaks from such an abrupt command.
maybe just a bit further, you hoped, just a few more miles and there might be signs of life. the tires fought each bumpy terrain, but so did the other vehicle. as old as the honda was it relentlessly fought to keep up with your pace.
your boyfriendâs hands grasp tightly around the steering wheel. harsh drastic turns abusing the already overworked engine. the needle hovered over the letter 'e', you barely had enough time left.
the car gradually slows down before hitting an abrupt stop and the red warning light flickers on once your rented car runs out of gas. your breathing hitched.
"no. nononononono. NO!" he slammed his hands against the steering wheel, once more pressing against a pedal that would not obey. the car behind you did not deter from its speed, you could have sworn they were planning on slamming right into you
but at last second it swerved. a blur of dust as it swerved from view. leaving you in creeping silence. you both curl yourselves lower into the seat and he places his jacket on you to hide your figure, hammering hearts before falling asleep from exhaustion.
the next morning you wake up to a gentle tapping on your car window. you jolt up from fear that whoever was following you last night had returned.
only to see a man with broad shoulders holding a basket of herbs and vegetables give you the brightest smile. with a hearty laugh he says, "sorry to startle you, miss. it's not often we see cars in the west, this isn't a place for tourists."
you glance around the driver's seat where you expected to find your boyfriend is now vacant. you call his name under your breath as if wishing he could magically reappear some way, some how. but nothing.
a million thoughts run across her mind before: "miss...are you alright?"
you softly respond with an obvious hint of nervousness in your eyes as you look back at him, "umm...sorry. It's just that my boyfriend...did you see anyone else around here? he was driving and fell asleep here last night."
but as much as you try to describe your boyfriend's physical attributes and clothes, the man maintains a face of unfamiliarity to the information. he assures, "no, ma'am. haven't seen anyone but you, actually. but, let me help you. this place isn't necessarily the safest for tourists."
you reluctantly oblige, opening the door.
"i'm izuku, you're lucky i found you."
"and why's that?"
"outsiders aren't allowed to roam without a guide."
a few more hours and you finally reach izuku's ranch. the fresh smell of rust and herbs fills your senses. "would you like some tea?" you nod and watch as he methodically prepares it. rather than from tea bags and a water faucet, he gently crushes herbs between his fingers.
"my family has tended to these plants for centuries. in our culture its more than just a medicinal remedy, its a way to connect ourselves with earth again and strengthen our spirituality."
"what do you believe in?" he pauses shortly before responding, "hirukami. it's the belief that everything, every energy is being exchanged constantly for the greater good."
he gives you the cup of tea that was prepared in a hand-cared cup decorated in art works of plant forms. "you should come to the festival tomorrow. there will be a great celebration."
I think I may be one of the only people that see Izuku having some sort ofâŠ.study kink? Study session kink?
I donât know how to describe it.
like say reader donât speak Japanese ( I know what a unique idea) and he is obsessed with the idea of teaching them Japanese. Iâm talking reader might not even live in Japan they just started talking online.
and he just loves repeating words back and forth the grown of frustration that plays like a musical in his ears from his headset as reader doesnât even know what sound the word he just said has.
like I donât mean he has a teacher student kink, or a âdumbâ reader one. He just wants to feel needed my being the one that teaches them the language. To be their dictionary, grammar book, and language partner.
and this applies to any study material. He just wants to be the person that they go to when they want to know something. That whenever they donât know something they think âIâll ask izuku to explain thatâ
(heâs still a bottom tho lol)
u ate. such a tasty idea, i want to build on it further. this is way more than what you asked for fr.
yan pro hero izuku teaching an ex-hostage headcannons
(tw. mentions of g0r3, vi0l3nc3)
you were meant to be a tourist. the vibrant hues in every picture and positive comments had all lured you into japan.
you were meant to stay until may 15th. now its october.
you're alive, but barely.
your body yearns for rest, eyes wearied yet they refuse to sleep. even if you could fall asleep just for a moment, the nightmares would reflect your reality.
grounds vibrate with each impact. buildings that used to touch the sky would now embrace the ground. at this point it became a common occurrence for you.
the electricity flickers as you hide behind rubble. there was a risk in being underground. a long abandoned subway tunnel. yet in truth, nowhere was safe.
buildings would tumble and the ones who didn't would risk a gas leak or electricity spark at any moment. bodies going through buildings from impacts related to fights. the outside was far less welcoming. so you took refuge in the metro station, hoping each day, no villain and no hero would cross these paths.
you trusted in no one, but yourself.
your body curled in a ball, a chilling atmosphere surrounding you.
then there it was. a grunt before a body's landing on concrete echoed. whatever conversation went on, you couldn't decipher it. not because of proximity, their voices were loud and clear, but because you could not understand the language outside of greetings.
body immediately springing from your position. remaining behind the rubble, your glassy eyes had seen far too much. though as the sounds of battle appeared to approach closer and closer, you knew remaining near the rubble would be a death sentence.
sound of electricity sparks through the air. yet you know that it did not belong to the facility. the source was far more powerful.
behind you was a dead end, so on bruised knees you peeked over what surroundings could give you a slim chance to escape. there it was, a villain tossed across like a rag doll towards the other side of the railway. the cause of it nowhere in sight. just for a few seconds there is silence, along with debris from impact.
the villain spits out blood before weakly rising himself up. not ready to go down without a fight. the green-haired pro hero lunged and the villain clawed and kicked, yet it was far too desperate. nothing could match izuku's fluid movements, he deflected and countered each attempt. it was almost pathetic.
slammed once more, yet this time only mere feet from the rubble where you hid behind. the tunnel shakes upon impact, your fingers respond latching onto the cement boulder.
the pro hero straddled on the villain's waist. one punch after another after another was a blow to the head. the villain stood no chance. the pro hero did not deter from repeating the action even after the villain stopped moving. it was all until the villain was left unrecognizable.
his muscular limbs had a slight tremble, all deriving from suppressed rage and adrenaline. his eyes were wide and sharp, yet there did not seem to be anything behind them. a grimace in his expression. with his sharp hearing he could sense it. even before he passed through this channel, he detected you and your breathing. his head instantly snapped towards the rubble like a hawk turns towards prey.
black whip springs out, wrapping around the rubble before throwing it with swift speed. there you are. battered bruises decorate your arms and legs. a swollen ankle and battered thumbs. tangled hair.
defenseless you begged, "please! please don't hurt me!" his body was still in high alert yet he approached. in his broken english: "not going to hurt you...okay?" a smile almost convinced her he was not responsible for carnage. it would have appeared so innocent if not for the flesh and blood of his enemies covering his body.
he held out his hand. you reluctantly accepted.
adrenaline coursed through your body. uncertain. even through his scarred form, you found a sense that he could be a safety for you. slowly you open up to him. allow him to hold you as he glides and jumps from sky scrapers with expertise.
he was the only thing that could appear safe and normal.
there was so much you meant to say to him. to tell him who you were. what your life was before placed in the middle of this wreckage. but to no avail. you couldn't even tell him that you were hungry. in turn he couldn't capture abstract emotions into words.
"I don't sleep. I feel..." there's a pause as he looks forward. you continue looking expectantly, only for him to say something indecipherable for you: "éș»çșăă". there's no english word that can bring justice, that can describe what goes on in his mind.
it's been a while since you've been by his side now. it's been so long since he's had someone rely on him directly. need him to survive. he can barely recall the last time he's seen civilians in these grounds.
but it hasn't made him weak. you haven't made him anything but stronger. even through your blank expression, something had awakened in him. you need salvation. not just physical in terms of safety and survival, but mental.
he holds back to an extent, a way to protect you from collateral damage. constantly monitoring you. in truth, it isn't hard since you're not allowed out of his sight. not like you would protest. if anything he's your personal guardian angel.
you start saying good morning and good night to him in Japanese. you even start to repeat words he says that you don't understand. a light matches in his soul from this.
you want to learn about him. you want to understand him.
and that means all the world to him.
he loves your questions. loves your curiosity.
he points at things like water. repeats them in english and japanese. in turn you do the same. a genuine small crossing his face once you pronounce it correctly.
during times away from risk, as short as they are, he grabs a nearby stick. gives her a Japanese character. erases it and writes it again. you write it. he corrects you and erases it. then repeats. even while together you draw characters in the air with your finger. with the deep desire to recall them as perfectly as you can.
it's all a distraction from reality. for both of you.
