To be Your Number One ||BakuDeku|| Abused deku AU||

uh oh spaghettio

This is for direct thoughts. (A/N. I WILL NOT BE PROVIDING TWS ANYMORE, AS THEY ARE STATED IN THE DESCRIPTION.)

Dekus future husbo pov

I took the nerds shirt off, with his struggles. It's not like I didn't believe dunce face. I had seen them before on his arm. I wanted to know just how much. How bad was he hurt? I swear- i- I'll kill anyone who's done this to him.

This was something nobody expected. I had to step back to process this. To even see them all. Without even looking at the others, I knew we were all thinking the same thing. What the fuck. Etchings on his skin, burns unhealed, the whips and crackles can be heard through the stories left inprinted on his tender skin. Years of torture and abuse had been shown to a group of people. People who are his friends. Not one inch left uncovered. Some still healing slowly, scabbed over. Burns still burning. And we had yet to see his back.

He had sunken to a ball on the floor against the wall sobbing and shaking. We all stood there, not knowing what to do.

"I'll go get Mr Aizawa" four eyes says before dashing off. Half n half steps towards the boy, still about ten feet from him. "Midoriya." His voice is solemn. Sincere. Why couldn't I do anything? Why wasn't I moving? I turned to look back at the crying izuku. He wasnt shaking as much anymore. His sobs had seemed to stop. icy hot stepped even closer. We all stood by unsure of what to do. Finally, he steadily and slowly reached his hand out and touched him. No reaction.

"He's not crying. I think he's unconscious. Bakugou. Help him up with me." How is this icy hot bastard so calm right now. How is he doing so much when I can only stand here shocked at the image of his scares. "Bakugou" he says again. Finally I step towards them.

"Tch." I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing to icy hot. Nothing to anyone nor about the nerd. Surely I couldn't have contributed to this, right? What the fuck am I thinking? Of course I did. I bullied him for years. Though, I know I hadn't done all of this.

I helped icy hot pick up the boy. He was light as could be. I took the boy from todoroki. I could carry him easily. His head and limbs swing back like a bobble head as I carry him in my arms. The extras looked at him in my arms. Dunce face and a few others teary eyed. Shitty hair was fucked up too. Should I cry? I don't know. Its not like I had endured this. Nerd had to. I didn't have to cry. He had to deal with this. With me. And with whatever fucker had done this. I don't need to cry. I- I don't. I don't need to- Ah fuck it. It fucking hurts seeing him like this. Knowing that I had hurt him when he was already going through this shit. It's no wonder  he was so terrified of me when I barged in. I'm so fucking stupid and useless. He- he was the real number one. Who am I to try to be a hero?

I look down at the limp boy in my arms, turned away from my classmates. A few tears sink off my face and onto his body. I can't believe I'd done that to him, and someone did way more than me. I slowly walk out of the locker room and down the halls. Down to recovery girl's.
///
After some time, she'd come out to be to say the scars wouldn't just disappear. They'd already healed over, and she could only heal his cuts. Fucking stupid. She persistently asked me questions. What happened, if I knew something, who.. yada yada yada.  If I knew, it wouldn't have happened in the first place!

Mr aizawa comes down at some point. He asks the same questions.

Recovery girl asks if we'd seen all of him, all of his scars. Aizawa had seen none and id only seen his front.

We both walk in. Immediately the atmosphere became much heavier. Tense. I looked towards me aizawa. He had his hand covering a bit of his face. Though, through his eyes you could tell it really troubled him. It fucking hurts me, too. We both stare at him, still unconscious on the bed. Aizawa is seeing what we had to. The unsightly scars and bruises. The whip marks and burns. Not to mention his ribs sticking out from malnutrition and hunger. Even he, emotionless caterpillar, had eyes glossy with tears.

"It's worst on his back. You may want to prepare yourselves." Rg days to us. She flips the boy over.

It takes us both everything we have not to blow everything up from anger. Everything was worst. Everything was there, but deeper. The whip marks were deeper and more prevalent. The cuts even. And the burns were larger. Scattered patches around his body showed us everything. But the worst part. Words. "Useless. Stupid. Mistake. Worthless." Words carved deep into his skin. Some more recent than others. The carvings were deep.

I know I was a douche to him all the time. I know that. And now I'm regretting it. How could someone do this to him, to anyone. I fucking hate myself for contributing. I fucking hate it. I hate me. I did this, all because I was scared. I'm fucking stupid.
And this was just his torso and arms. His legs were probably tormented as well. It fucking aches my mind to comprehend such a horrid act. Who did it? Who did this?

Today's was real short but it's a saturday and I'm tired. I'm continue on Monday. Have a good weekend. Hasta luego!