#mha<3

Here I recommend fics for tomorrow x together and for my anime lovers I have haikyuu(may include some others like jujustu kaisen, mha, blue lock, etc). I normally just read these fics as I go, so unlike the bts folder these are just my favorites :)

*warning* most, if not all, content is rated 18+ and m for mature. so please if you are under 18, do not interact, and if you do please be careful( I would prefer if you would not interact at all)

this has imagines, smau's, and headcannons!

LFY Soundtrack: The Playlist

TW/CW: swearin/strong language,bullying, katsuki is a dick, pining, alcohol

Chapter Two: Prey

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“Y’know,” Kachaan begins, looking up at the grown man with green hair and unforgettable freckles, “You did a pretty good fuckin’ job at stayin hidden an outta sight. What made you come out?” he crosses his leg and swishes the glass of whiskey.

“Kachaan, I think we both know the obvious answer to that,” he sighs before glancing down at his watch, the black leather band with gold accents, goodness he could only imagine how much that must’ve took from your paycheck. The loud blonde barks out a laugh, “Don’t tell me you stopped being an underground villain for pussy?” he chuckles, also taking a peek at the watch.

“The same pussy you’ve been trying for years to fuck?” Deku sneers, he’s never taken lightly to people talking down on the ones he cares for, especially her.

Kachaan falls quiet, truly a rare sight.

“Yeah, I did come out of hiding for some pussy.” he finalizes, before leaning back and grinning at the irritated and quiet blonde.

Kachaan can only huff as a response.

————————

“Alright class,” their all to familiar middle school teacher walks back in the room, “We have a new student joining us in a few days, be nice to her.” he announces before writing down the days lesson on the chalk board.

“Uhm, sir. Can you tell us about the new student?” a girl in the back asks, the teacher sighs before rolling up his sleeves, “She’s in your age group, she has a quirk, and she’s from the United States.” he retorts before going back to the board and checking attendance.

“Now, on with todays lesson.”

All of class is the same as it always had been, students cheating on each others papers, raising their hands and getting answers wrong and right, and some simply not doing anything productive at all. Izuku fell into the last category, drawing heroes and their quirks and making analysis on them, as he normally did whenever class got boring.

And the day continued as it did, teachers ignored him and so did students, maybe if Izuku got lucky even Kachaan would ignore him, he hoped Kachaan would ignore him.

But he didn’t, he never did. Always a creeping reminder of what Izuku failed to be, what he could never be, no matter how hard he tried.

Izuku walks into the classroom after refilling his All Might themed water bottle, he was hopeful today, that maybe today would be less hellish then the days before, that today would be more forgiving on his soul, that maybe Kachaan wasn’t in the mood for tyranny and instead would opt for leaving him with his thoughts and decisions.

Izuku hoped wrong. On his desk in bold black letters was written “QUIRKLESS LOSER!” “USELESS BASTARD” “PATHETIC MAMA’S BOY”.

Still and silent, that’s what Izuku was as the words on his desk screamed in his head, glancing down is when he really noticed it, his brand new limited edition all might plush that was hooked to his bag was ripped and burnt apart.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he walked past a group of girls whispering amongst themselves to grab an eraser and spray bottle. It was shameful to walk back to his desk and clean up the mess Kachaan and his lackeys had made, it was hurtful to pick up the remaining pieces of his plushie.

He hated Kachaan and his stupid brainless lackeys. That, he was sure of.

He didn’t bother making eye contact with anyone as he left the school, he didn’t even bother telling his teachers goodbye, he only bothered on making it home.

Izuku walked the familiar route home, down the streets, past the playground with children screaming and playing, past his playground, up the cement stairs and down the cemented hall.

He opened the door, kicking off his shoes and walking towards his mom. Did he even wanna see her right now?

“Hey mama,” he mumbled before giving her a weak side hug, “Whats wrong Zu’?” she asked softly from the stove, “Just a long day, that’s all.” She knew he was lying, she could feel the melancholy rolling off him in waves.

“All right, dinner will be ready soon.” she leaves it alone, for now at least. If he wants to talk to me about his issues he can and hopefully will. She thinks before turning her focus back onto the curry.

Izuku stumbles into his room, and throws everything on the ground and opens his computer. He knows what he’s searching for and so does his YouTube, immediately he clicks on the video, his video.

It’s All Might, rescuing those citizens from the fallen building, god that video is so old. He stares blankly at the screen until he hears his door open, “Mom?” he turns in his black swivel chair, “Here’s dinner, honey,” she places the plate in front of him on his desk, “Thanks mom.” he’s quiet, so quiet it breaks her heart.

“Izuku,” she begins, and he stares at her, “Yes mom?” he asks, “You know you can talk to me about anything right? About your thoughts and feelings, anything that troubles you.” she looks at her son concerned, “I know mom.” he smiles weakly once more before she nods her head and closes the door.

Chapter One: Origin

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“Alright class!” The teacher's voice booms throughout the classroom, “What is the origin of this sentence from the United States Declaration of Independence? “We hold these truths to be blank blank blank blank. What was said and what was changed?”

The room is silent as the students look around the classroom and at each other, waiting for someone to answer, to take charge.

They both raised their hands, at the same time.

Only one was picked.

“Yes, Bakugou?” the teacher points at the blonde who’s hand was raised, “Thomas Jefferson originally wrote; “We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable however this was later changed by the Continental Congress.” He puffs proudly while glaring at the greenette in front of him whose hand was also up, the greenette who now sulks and doodles in his notebook at his sullied desk.

“Oh my! How brilliant!” the teachers parades again, singing praises to the overachieving perfect blonde, while his friends and classmates whisper praises in his ears.

Everyone except him. The quirkless, wannabe, nobody loser, with no friends, and the biggest dweeb in all of middle school; Midoriya Izuku.

Nobody batted an eye of course, why would they? He was a nobody? So of course class continued as usual, friends whispered to each other and traded answers, and students proclaimed their answers whether they were right or wrong. The world turned and people lived their lives as if he didn’t matter, and that’s because he didn’t.

He didn’t matter in this world and neither did anybody else like him, they were all just pawns to be used and points taken by the powerful heroes with amazing quirks. He was jealous, and he hated how jealous he was of others, even those with not so bright and flashy quirks, he was green with envy.

The school day ended as it always does and students packed their bags and changed their shoes and all went their separate ways.

“Hey nerd!” Bakugou barked out as Midoriya changed from his school shoes to his signature bright reds, “Uh, yes kachaan?” he mumbled, standing up to a full 5’5.

He always wished he was taller, like his father that he never saw, according to his mother; Inko, his father; Hisashi was tall with dark curly black hair and sprinkled in freckles. Izuku misses him, dearly.

“Next time you raise your hand while I’m answering a question I’m gonna beat y’er ass, am I clear?” he sneers, glaring down at Midoriya, “Yes, kachaan.” he sighs, waiting for him to turn around and mind his business.

And he does, he stares at Midoriya for a while before huffing and stomping off with his hands shoved into his baggy and sagging pants, away from his former childhood friend’s sadness and patheticism.

The walk home is silent, minus the ambient noise of children playing at playground, cars speeding by, and people talking to their respectives on the phones, he walks past his playground, the one that was once filled with joyful and wonderful memories now turned sour and bitter with confusion and hurt laced over the grounds. The children who all once followed and played in the footsteps of Bakugou now continue that rout as his lackeys, servants who abide his every word as if it’s law.

Izuku never understood it, why Kachaan randomly switched on Izuku that day, why everyone seemed to turn on him that day actually, all his friends and childhood classmates, even his mother. Though he knows his poor mom meant no harm, just simply worried and concerned for her son.

Maybe the hatred towards him wasn’t random, maybe it was a slow, gradual thing, that happened over the obliviousness and naiveness of Izuku’s poor childhood heart that saw the good in everything and anyone, even when done wrong.

He kicks a rock in front of him, now feeling stupid and defeated. He wishes he could stand up to Kachaan, really he does, but what can he do? He can’t fight, Kachaan’s lackeys would easily hold him down while Kachaan had a field day with him. He can’t tell any teachers, not when basically the whole school is at his feet, teachers, students, everyone, plus what would his mother think? Obviously she’d blame herself for not picking up on the signs, for not being there enough, not supporting him enough, for lacking where she needs him the most.

He hates this life, he wishes he was born better, that he could give better.

Walking up the stairs and down the cemented hallway he finds his way to his home, his safespace, his sanctuary, he shoves his key in the door and shuffles through the small entryway, kicking his shoes off as he goes.

“Hi honey, how was school?” his mother; Inko beams from the kitchen, the familiar and delectable scent of katsudon floating through the air, “Hi mom,”. he smiles weakly, “School was fine, I have a bunch of homework to do so I’ll be in my room if you need me, okay?” he walks over giving her a side hug and a small kiss to her temple. “Alright Izuku, I’ll call you when dinners ready.” she smiles once more before turning her attention to the stove, letting her son walk his way to his familiar room.

He opens the door and is first greeted with his bed being tidily made and his window cracked open, Mom must’ve cleaned today he thinks to himself before dropping his bag beside his desk and opening up his journals and computer. He busies himself with the mundane, tedious things before his mother calls again. “Izuku! Dinners ready!” she calls out, “Coming mom!”

Dinner is quiet, and so is clean up as she washes the dishes and he mops the floor and takes out the trash, it’s domestic.

“Hey um mom?” he’s quiet when he asks, he knows his father is a sensitive subject to her, “Yes dear?” she hums while drying the dishes. “I wanna ask you a question, is that okay?” he puts up the mop back where it belongs. “Of course Izuku, you can ask me anything.” she sprays down the counters, and stove, and the fridge while he takes a seat at the dinner table. “It’s about dad…” he pauses, cautious and wary of the subject he’s bringing up. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s hoping she won’t shut down this time.

She’s quiet for a moment, strands of viridescent framing her face, she’s lost in thought for a moment before, “Ask away.” she doesn’t mean to sound blunt, at least not as blunt as she came off. She never does, she’s always tried to raise her shy boy with the love and attention his father never had, that his father took away from her.

“How long is he gonna be away on business? It’s been years, yet nothing for holidays, breaks, vacations, nothing.” he stares down at the table where he fumbles with his thumbs, playing a one person thumb-war.

“Izuku, I…” she falls silent for another moment, “Izuku sweetheart, You’re father is… well.. he’s…” she’s struggling to find the words to tell him the truth.

But sometimes the truth needs to be withheld for good and justifiable reasons, so instead she opts for.

“I’m not sure, I wish I knew. I’m sorry honey.”

He sighs, and deep down.. She knows she disappointed him, just like his father disappointed her. Time after time again.

The cycle repeats.

“I’m um, I’m gonna go to bed now. Night mom, I love you.” is all he says before taking one last deep sigh and shuffling his way into his room.

“Goodnight sweetness.” she whispers before hearing the lock on his door click, she stumbles to the chair her son sat in, only minutes prior, she places her head in her hands before staring at the oak wooden table.

You have to tell him.

That familiar voice whispering in her ear.

“I know,” she mumbles before falling silent.

He’s old enough to know the truth.

“I know, I just…” She falls silent again.

I know… I know you don’t want to hurt him, my love.

She shudders, “You’re not real.”

I am real, I’m alive, and I’m out here, somewhere, in this grand world.

“No. You would’ve come home to me, to your son, to your family if you were real, if you were alive.” she spits venom through her teeth.

Go to sleep darling, you need it.

And just like that, she’s alone again, in those same walls that were once filled with romantic laughter and love, the same walls that held her little family safe and sound.