Deku-Centric One-shots

Welcome To The Black Parade

Welcome To The Black Parade
My Chemical Romance
Murder, abuse, implied emotional manipulation, execution, electrocution, just plain angst

(_•_)

The impending doom of school in three days: hippity hoppety your motivation is now my property

So yeah. I've still gotta do research on DID for a one-shot prompt, and continue a prompt I started writing a couple days ago.

But dude, you get the chance to visit Destin, Florida, DO IT.

On with the shit show!

(_•_)

The boxy television flickered with static and the audio was warped. It was the only light in the dark room, and the only noise in the silence.

A man with dark curly hair was the focus of the TV, as live news streamed. He was strapped down to a chair so he could barely move, yet seemed perfectly relaxed with a casual smile on his face.

An official, perhaps an officer or executioner or whoever they were, approached the man sitting in the chair with a large scowl.

"Midoriya Hisashi," they spoke, voice booming around the room and hushing the chatter. The TV warped the audio so it crackled about. The executioner pulled out a paper and began reading from it, "you have been found guilty on all accounts of illegal quirk usage, villainy, robbery, torture, arson, abuse, smuggling, and murder of the first degree."

Hisashi Midoriya grinned, nodding as it all sounded just about right. "Hm, yes, I did do that, didn't I?" The people around him yelled in anger, and the TV cut into a screen of static before turning back to the scene.

The executioner glared. "Any last words?"

Hisashi stared right into the camera, as if he were staring into the bare soul of whoever was watching. A freckled boy knew exactly who he was staring at.

"Welcome to the black parade." He said, his yellow cracked teeth still stained with spots of blood.

The electrical chair lit up, and Hisashi laughed maniacally before slumping forward, dead.

The TV fell into an eternal screen of static.

A freckled boy stood from the floor, walking down the hall. Stray soda cans and bags of food and trash crunched underfoot, the rotting floor creaking quietly. He passed down broken and cracked walls, a bathroom door hanging limply from its hinges.

Down into a basement, darkness pooling like a puddle of icy blood. The floor was damp, and water dropped steadily from the ceiling.

Drip.

Midoriya Izuku approached a table, running his hands over the various weapons that sat dormant, unused for years but a forever looming threat.

Drip.

'You're the son of a villain' his father had always said. 'Act like it.' Years of abuse and pain until he was molded into the perfect successor. Someone to kill and inflict pain upon in his absence.

Drip.

There would always be an absence.

Drip.

Izuku turned over a large knife thoughtfully, running it down the length of his finger. Beads of blood sprouted, and slowly dribbled down his finger to his wrists, plopping down to the damp floor.