Holy Bloody Shit. After Two Months, The Story Outline Is Officially Done. (100 Pages Of Pure, Torturing

Denki Kaminari is proud of his Christmas gift for his classmates. Despite Katsuki's relentless teasing and skepticism, the dream-linking candles quickly become a hit.

Everything seems perfect — until a prank meant for Katsuki drags Izuku into an endless sleep, trapping him in a web of nightmares from which no one can pull him out.

(I finally posted the epilogue oooops.)

I will always stan best girl. I love her with all my heart 💛

Skill issue. I use at least 20 in each chapter 😭

someone on twitter is trying to claim that use of an em-dash is an indication of AI-generated writing because it’s “relatively rare” for actual humans to use it. skill issue

Izuku takes shooting lesson with Lady Nagant seriously beside his teaching career and helping some missions before he even receive the suit 😗

(Just wanna draw izuku being a cool sniper, sue me)

(Bakugo thinks Izuku is cool too but he is too shy to admit fufu)

By the way Izuku only use tranquilizer bullets for the villains 🙏🏼 some more destructive bullets will be used for other type of thing :D

Izuku: Why go to a haunted house when you can BE the haunted house?

Class 1-A:

Bakugo: What does that even mean?

Izuku: It means ghosts live in me.

Bakugo: W-WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

aizawa and izuku love shit talking together actually.

After the very awkward transition from teacher and student to colleagues, sit around in the teachers lounge in mostly silence. they work in silence -- well, mostly silence, as Izuku mumbles to himself.

"Keji, in my class?" Izuku says after hours of silence. "The pink haired kid?"

"The one that blew up the bathroom sink? What about him?"

"He's been very-- He's--" Izuku hems and haws. "He's been kind of a cunt."

Aizawa looks up from his computer, torn between shock and awe. "Midoriya."

"Well-"

"You're right, but you shouldn't say it." Aizawa picks up his coffee, mostly to hide his smile behind the rim, "You just call kids like that problem children."

can I still be a hero?

Heeyyy are you ever going to finish or publish THE CORRIDORS because that my favorite fic😭😭. I was wondering since it’s not in aO3 anymore

Yes!! I had to pull it off Ao3 for a quick revision and rewrite now that I have a new Beta :// It should be back up mid-February <33

Yeah... it's now April, and I'm a big fat liar. Another project has taken over my time, but I swear I haven't abandoned The Cooridors 😭

Heeyyy are you ever going to finish or publish THE CORRIDORS because that my favorite fic😭😭. I was wondering since it’s not in aO3 anymore

Yes!! I had to pull it off Ao3 for a quick revision and rewrite now that I have a new Beta :// It should be back up mid-February <33

WIP (vigilante Deku)

(Trying to be more active here lol) IZUKU COULD NOT REMEMBER the last time he'd seen the sun. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the cold wind bit at his exposed skin, fogging his goggles. His boots splattered on the puddled concrete soaked with rain, mud, and old blood. Though rainstorms had become a daily phenomenon, they never could wash away the stains. Death and blood polluted Japan, and it was only a matter of time before it clouded the rest of the world. Shigaraki and All for One would make sure of it.

The streets were silent. No civilians. Over the past few months, only violent protestors or petty villains dared venture out; the real threats—the monsters that had torn Tartarus apart—had vanished, slipping into the shadows once the international teams arrived. Izuku had crossed paths with a few of the new heroes, but none measured up to the legends of his childhood. Still, their efforts had been appreciated. All Might strength or not, anyone would be welcome to fight alongside the dwindling Japan remnants. There was a certain hope and strength in numbers... or so everyone believed.

It was a shame, though not a complete surprise, when most of them died.

Deku worked alone now. 

He wiped the condensation off his lenses and stared up at the gray sky, focusing on the outline of a Nomu as its wings beat against the harsh winds. An invisibility quirk. Without his specialized goggles, he wouldn’t have known it was there. For days, he’d tracked the invisible beast, waiting for it to return to its master or hint at the League's location. It never did. It just drifted, mindlessly circling the countryside with no sign of stopping.

His hand tightened around the goggles—Hatsume’s last gift before she went missing like so many others. He prayed that the mechanic and her family had successfully fled the country. It was a far better alternative to the claim that someone had seen her corpse under a collapsed building. 

At the edge of an abandoned skyscraper, Izuku paused, his gaze sweeping over what remained of Esuha city. The heart of the metropolis, which had once pulsed with life and hope, now lay in broken fragments. Across the street, Fat Gum's agency stood as little more than a hollow shell, the shackled remains of brick and stucco reaching upward like ancient ruins.

When All for One had escaped Tartarus, the agencies were the first to fall. Leftover heroes had banded together near Yuuei campus, hiding in wait for an opportunity to fight back, which of course never came.

Izuku squinted and spotted a few bodies strewn near the entrance of Fat Gum's agency, long past the point of saving. He could almost hear their desperate cries, fists pounding against the agency's sealed doors, pleading for a sanctuary that would never come. What final thoughts had passed through their minds as they realized no one would answer?

It was little wonder the people had turned their backs on the heroes. Izuku couldn’t blame them.

He barely slowed his pace as he fired off a brief, coded text to Endeavor: Bodies in Esuha center. He knew the rescue teams would handle retrieving the decomposed corpses and identifying them, passing along the news to what little family remained. That was no longer his concern. Izuku’s purpose had narrowed to a single, burning objective: destroy All for One. The dead were beyond his reach, but the living still had a chance, however slim. And so, he pressed on, trailing the Nomu like a ghost through the rain-soaked ruins.

The jagged skyline eventually flattened to sprawling neighborhoods, then to abandoned rice fields, where weeds rose like sentries from the earth. Each time the Nomu dipped lower, Izuku crouched among the tall grass, heart pounding, careful not to be caught in the creature's line of sight. He moved in a rhythm now, alternating between bursts of running and surveillance, never allowing himself the luxury of rest.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. A response from Endeavor, no doubt. A plea for him to update his location, to inform the group about where he was going. But he could not risk communicating that way, even in code. All for One was no doubt listening, waiting for an opportunity to catch and kill the last of the resistance. One misstep, one careless message—like, I’m chasing an invisible Nomu—and everything would be snuffed out.

He liked to believe that he could go on for as long as necessary; his years of training had conditioned him to survive in extremes. But his body had its limits. Food had run out two days ago, and the Nomu showed no signs of slowing down. Izuku tried to keep an eye out for any sources—an old convenience store, an unlocked door, a tipped over trash can—but found nothing. Mere adrenaline thrummed through his veins, keeping him sharp, alert.

As rain drizzled down, Izuku tilted his head back, catching a few drops on his tongue. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Another buzz from his pocket, just as the Nomu screeched overhead. Izuku ducked behind a shrubby tree, pulse quickening with the fear he’d been seen. But the creature, oblivious, continued its course. They were heading back towards civilization—if that word even applied anymore. In the distance, apartment rooftops broke the horizon, and something about them tugged at Izuku’s memory. A fragment of his past, perhaps. Musutafu, maybe. If it truly was his hometown, he’d have circled Japan in under a week. He couldn’t help but let a dark smile curl at the thought—what a record that would have been.

Briefly glancing up at the bird as it grazed the tips of the trees, Izuku risked a peek at his phone.

2 new messages.

He fully expected the notifications to be from Endeavor, but when he opened them, he nearly dropped his phone in surprise.

Unknown number:

Where the FUCK are you.

I stole your number from number-one hot head, so answer me before he finds out and destroys my phone.

Another buzz followed moments later.

I know you’re reading these. Call me asap. I’m deleting evidence of this conversation.

A lump lodged its way into Izuku's throat. Twilight crept across the sky, casting long shadows through the skeletal trees that offered him little protection. His breaths came quicker, his heart pounding in his ears. The Nomu circled overhead, a predator biding its time.

And for a moment, Izuku broke.

He buried his face in the crook of his arm, the sobs quiet, muffled, but unstoppable. It was startling, almost relieving, to know that he could still cry. Many of his classmates could not anymore.

Classmates. The word felt like poison on his tongue. Ochako, Tenya, Shoto, Mina, Minoru… Kacchan. Just a few of the faces he hadn’t seen in over a month. He’d erased himself from their lives, using a new phone thanks to Hatsume’s network of friends, severing every connection. He couldn’t risk being found—not again. Not after they’d dragged him back three times already, forcing him to bathe and eat and waste several days in their care.

This time, most of them stayed away on one condition: that he would direct them to All for One and Shigaraki when the time came. He was not allowed to fight by himself. Though Endeavor and Jeanist would not be able to track him, they eventually relented to his request to go alone. They would have to trust him.

After all, Deku had never failed them before.

Izuku hiccupped as he slid his back down the bark of the tree. Absently, his eyes tracked the silhouette of the Nomu, its wings slicing through the sky toward the distant city. He would catch up—he always did—but right now, steadying his breath, his heart, was the priority. Who would have thought a simple text could unravel him like this? He cursed himself for opening the phone at all. TBC (on Ao3 eventually)