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23 Oct 2019
"Pretty little things like you should really take care in places like this, you know,"
Izuku shivered at the hot breath in his ear, heart beating wildly as the warm body pressed further up against him.
"You never know what might happen."
Izuku's head spun, and he fell back with a groan, hands ceremoniously clenching and unclenching at the skin over his navel, grasping at the hardness there. This was just a little mistake, right? He didn't mean for any of this, it had never been his intention. Yet the grim memory festered further in his mind, sending him down another road of nausea. His hand flew up to his mouth, and he grit his teeth, one thought playing on repeat in his dazed head:
This couldn't be happening.
09 Jun 2019
It was never the feeling of pure flakes of snow gracing his skin in angel-soft kisses. It was never the way the occasional December gust chilled him to the bone or the way the heavy snow would blanket everything in an ethereal sheet of soft, white powder, making Musutafu look as if it was a depiction of heaven itself. No, it was never any of that. If Izuku had to describe it best, he would say the lack of sound was the most surreal aspect of it. The supernatural quiet of a heavy snowstorm rolling in from over the already snow-capped peaks of Mount Takao was probably the most unearthly, god-like, shaking sound Izuku could describe. The quiet before the inevitable storm. The snow would continue to blanket more and more, and the quiet would roar into a deafening thunder and clash of lightning. It was downright terrifying. Even when Izuku found himself with blood staining his face and hands, heart racing, the most terrifying part was always the storm. It always left him with the same repeating thought.
The world is falling apart and he doesn’t want to be a part of it anymore.