hero's shadow // mha

44) between worlds

(warnings: drowning, slight gore)

There are hands pressing against the back of Izuku's head.

Fingers dig into his scalp, yanking at his hair and tearing through his skin with sharpened nails.

He's pushed down until he's kneeling, palms flat on the floor. The ground below him feels moist, like it's only just recently rained. But when he looks down, he can't see anything. It's all black here. There's only darkness around him.

Fuck. Are you kidding me?

Trying to calculate how much drugs he had to have accidentally taken before bed to be seeing this shit, Izuku closes his eyes and tries to steady his erratic heartbeat.

Get out. Get out. It's not real, so just pull yourself out of this.

More hands join in and the pressure increases, but not just on the outside of his skull, on the inside too. There's something in there, squirming about, eating away at his brain. It's scratching at his flesh, trying to get out, or trying to get in—how would Izuku know the difference? Is this what a parasite feels like? Like those brain-eating amoebas?

He's shoved harder and his face meets the ground with a snap. Hot, sticky blood pours from his nose and pools around his face, wrenching a surprised cry from him. He didn't think he could feel pain like that here. Usually his dreams are muted with some kind of film over them. The pain he experiences then is dull—not sharp, and certainly not like this.

The surprise is enough to have him panicking.

Multiple pairs of hands grab at his clothes and yank, pulling Izuku in every direction. But when he tries to lift his head he's just pushed back down again. His blood stains his shirt and seeps into his curls, and Izuku hates it.

He can't breathe. The void beneath him is starting to burn away at his skin like acid, and the heat spreads through him quicker than a wildfire.

Another tug and All Might's shirt rips in half, leaving Izuku's bare torso on display for all the world to see and touch. Nails—no, talons dig into his old scars and make them fresh again, and this time Izuku can't help the scream that bubbles up and out of his throat.

"Stop it!" He yells, twisting and writhing on the ground in hopes of dislodging the hold the hands have on him. "Let me—let go of me!"

Harsh words are hissed into his ear, but his blood is pounding so hard that he can't make sense of any of them. It's all mush to him.

Something grabs the back of his neck and holds him in place, and now he really can't breathe. His hands come up to scratch at whatever is holding him there, but his fingers go through air. He's fighting against nothing.

Here there's just Izuku, the angry, wailing voices, and the ever-expanding darkness. And what a tragic trio they make.

He's yanked forward by the wrists, and his bare stomach slides painfully over the burning floor. It's like he's been thrown over smoldering coals. His confusion increases tenfold, alongside his panic.

He can't die here, right? This isn't real—he's over eighty-nine percent sure of that—or the work of some quirk, so he should be okay! This is just a dream. A very realistic, terrifying dream.

With that assumption comes another dreadful thought: will any of the wounds he's receiving here travel over into the real world?

Izuku is at the bottom of the dog pile now. Bodies push him even further into the fire below, and though he can't see them he can still very much feel them. Izuku has lifted up whole boulders before with ease (and many, many fridges; thank you, All Might), but he's still having trouble getting this weight off him.