As You Wish

Chapter 1

Life in prison wasn't the best.

For two more weeks Izuku was alone. Alone to his thoughts, speculations of who framed him, anything to keep him distracted. He couldn't talk to anyone, being yelled at if he did so.

Any small mistake he did was blown into a huge problem, adding more time on his own.

So he grew quiet, silent, did what he needed, ignored everyone and thing, and kept himself sane by hurting himself. The stinging sensation of his nails against his skin or pinching feeling of his teeth. That feeling telling him he was alive. His only sick reminder that he was still there.

Eventually he was moved into a different cell. He thought it would've been better, he'd actually have someone to talk to.

He's always wrong nowadays.

"You're just a quirkless freak!" shouts his cellmate. A mutant quirk showing itself with his fangs and reptilian eyes, then the forked tongue.

Sometimes he wished he could kill himself properly.

The days continued on into another week. A week of suffering and ridicule under his cellmate's hand, he didn't bother learning his name, and he was done. No one would help him, turning a blind eye to this abuse. So he had to help himself once again.

After a particularly hard hit to his stomach, he snapped. They saw him as a useless freak. Well, they'll get the freak part.

Izuku swung his arm, clipping the male with his fist and sending the male to the ground. Unlike Izuku's quiet demeanor when beaten into the ground, his cellmate fell with a clatter, screeching like the devil was upon him.

Though that was amusing, he wasn't done. Pouncing on his assaulter with a satisfying feral grin, he hit, and hit, and hit, ignoring the dull throbbing of his fist.

From each hit was a cry and whimper, and he was pulled off after the sixteenth hit. It wasn't enough. He needed to pay him back for what he did, maybe break a bone or two, no three, the satisfying snap would've brought him bliss.

He was thrown into a confinement cell. Identical gray walls greeting him in a familiar way, nothing like seeing a long lost friend, but of encountering an old enemy. Icy claws sunk into his skin as the gray room consumed him, circling around him like a wolf.

That night Izuku relished in the pained cries of his abuser. Playing the scene over and over like he would with All Might's debut. That exhilarating delight didn't last as he fell into his swirling mind.

Scoring his nails against his skin, scratching repeatedly, the sound bringing a sense of security in the soundless place. The stinging pain allowed him to focus on something else rather than his black hole of a brain.

Warm liquid dripped down his arms, the iron smell filling his nose. It brought no comfort, the potent scent sending him spiralling into vivid memories. Memories of scorched clothes, blades slashing through his flesh, satisfied beatings falling upon him like hail.

He is weak. A useless excuse of a human being not able to keep their sheep's clothing on. Showing the horrendous monster underneath, the wolf among the sheep.

A nobody not worth the saving. He's better off dead, but they won't even allow him that reward. Can't they allow him his one wish?

Being locked in a confinement cell for a month was hell. Every sound from him garnering shouts, any time he forgot to eat food he was force fed, scolded for the scratching habit that started up. Everything he did earned a shout at him that eventually made him used to each pitch and warble.

He didn't care anymore. No stuttering a reply when they attempted to scold him, just answering with a hard glare and scowl. His thoughts were the only thing to comfort him and fill the void, plus the pain of opening his skin.

When he was finally let out, he had a new cellmate. On the first day, this one looked him up and down then turned back to what they were doing. They acknowledged him, and by their tense body, saw him as something to be wary about.

The first words he heard from the male was on his third day. His red eyes swimming with uncertainty and certainty at the same time.

"You're like a cornered animal" he started, averting his eyes as he set them on the bed above him, "doing anything to survive, no matter the collateral damage"

"I like you" that's a 180

"Damien's the name, don't forget it broccoli hair"

Izuku took a few days to even talk to the male. It felt like his voice was blocked, no matter how hard he tried to let out a sound. Hums came easily, as did growls of displeasure.

"Izuku" the word left his mouth like nails against a chalkboard, uncomfortable and making him seem off.

His voice was hoarse, and dull. He tried to put in some kind of emotion into it, but it was as if the sound rejected the bright mask he was trying to force into it. Not like Damien seemed to mind.

"Great!" Glee slipped from the male's voice, not childish, promising mischief, "now I have something other than broccoli to call you!"

The guards shouted at him to keep it down. Yeah, it was midnight but who cares? Not like the two of them were sleeping anytime soon. Damien just yelled back telling them that they should be quiet too.

"We have a lot to work on" whispered Damien, "whenever you're able to come to the mess hall and field, I'll introduce you to my group"

Damien was an odd fellow. Born in America and lived there most of his life, that was before his parents were murdered and he had to live with his grandparents in Japan. He already knew Japanese, but came with baggage.

He fell into criminal activity, we wouldn't call it villainy. Fell into the "wrong crowd" and started up a gang. His gang is here, all of them eventually caught and brought here. Well, except for one, who was out there and on the run.

They weren't charged to stay long. Only a year or so. At least Damien was set for a year, having already spent one year here. His charges were minor, and most of the shit he did couldn't be tracked back to him.

How lucky he was.

Damien had vibrant red eyes that always glowed with promise of trouble. That was his charm. His short, messy black hair had one stripe of white on the left side of his face. He looked unassuming with his scrawny look, but lean muscles always had that affect. His skin was tanned, pointing to his Native American heritage, and he had one prominent scar across his whole face.

Though, the male wouldnt tell Izuku where he got it from. So he dropped it.

The black haired male tried to get rid of Izuku's habit. No luck though. That left Damien to at least lessen the scratching, the biting stopped eventually.

He thinks he could enjoy the company of this male. Even just a little.

Maybe things were looking up, kinda.
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Published: Sept. 1, 2020

I winged it with Damien. Not saying his quirk yet since it isn't important. But enjoy my new mischief child, he will become apart of this story.