Chapter Text
“Ixen, Hrrac, Iejir.”
Izuku sees Kirishima rear his dragon head, big bellowing belly aglow as a stream of fire hits floating rock and a meteor spray of light decimates his and Ochako’s enemies in a sweeping arc. Their victory is short lived as another wave of monsters surges toward them and the process starts again.
He has to dodge the claws of another monster as it’s intercepted by Iida’s shield. He spins, tenses and flips driving his sword in its nightmarish mouth. A thousand teeth or more shatter on the strength of this blade and blood surges onto his arm.
(His own? The monster’s?)
(Who cares anymore.)
He feels the power of the great All Might surge through him as he shatters several more creatures in a row. Blade in hand, he passes Tsuyu as she rams her dagger in the throat of one trying to bite through Todoroki’s arm. Behind her, Kaminari shields Yaozoru as she weaves weapon after weapon out of her own matter magic. Each of these blades Tokoyami takes with the hands of the shadow of his pact and spear through every enemy they have.
Bakugou crashes through stretches of hoard, decimating a path of explosive violence. As he swings his blades at the edge of the Demon Lord’s ankles he’s tackled down by a wave of winged beasts. One of his own, a smaller blue dragon breathes flame against the winged ones and takes him back down to earth safely before re-joining the others.
He is one of many.
For here, on the glowing hard molten edge of the Tribe lands it’s looking to be the final battle.
Countless allies, countless enemies and countless odds, the Demon Lord towers above them from his place darkening the sky against the Grand Eclipse. Those that swarm out of the ninth hell opened at his feet pour out like spiders from an egg sack. Nightmares, buried beneath, away from sun, away from sense, angry and blood thirsty.
Izuku cuts another down.
It feels as if it has been hours of fighting.
(It may very well have been.)
Someone screams.
“Fire.”
Chieftain Mitsuki Bakugou unleashes a battle cry behind him. Her son takes after her in many ways, but the slick glycerine like smoothness she handles her blade with is a ferocity that can only belong to a tribal leader. Heads fall and roll, and ooze black upon the earth. Her mate, Masaru, silently spears those that try to attack her back.
Behind him, Izuku sees a thousand or more dragons soar above and send plumes of heat across the field. The dragon fire blasts at the giant evil, destroys minions and he feels the hotness lick his freckles.
The Demon Lord isn’t fazed.
The dragons try again.
Three of the seven tribes live on these hot lands. All seven have come today to defend the mother tribe. Dragons of every colour and shape battle alongside humans in perfect chaos. The world around his friends is iridescent scale and tooth and claw.
Izuku knows better than most that dragons would do anything to defend the
“Nest.”
It is when they look to be making some progress when the Lord of Darkness’ left arm raises slowly. The movement is so large the echoing of his bones makes the ground shake and disturb the rest of the dead fools that summoned him. The tip of his bony finger glows and a hush falls over the battle in dread.
Deku’s heart jumps in his throat when Ochako and Kirishima fly up to defend them all.
She holds steadily on his neck. Her staff aglow in the whitest light he has ever seen. The eclipse boosts her power and the world around her and the dragon begins shaking and lifting into a giant shield above them all. Grander than the great lakes of the East, wider than the fields of her home.
A dark ray of energy shoots through the battlefield and hits the shield.
A second passes.
It buckles.
Kirishima roars flame.
The fire bends.
“ISTHASY!”
Bakugou voice roars draconic and Deku can see the fear in his eyes as the Kirishima’s fire and Ochako’s staff are pushed back, struck with pure darkness and thrown through the air miles away from the battle field.
He can’t even see that far.
The world grows silent around him and all Izuku can see is the glowing white hot rage of Bakugou’s face. He sees the young man’s skin erupt in magma trails of bright markings and smoke leave the boys mouth. His eyes glow gold.
He’s seen it before.
“KATSUKI, NO!” he hears the boy’s mother cry.
A lone enraged roar echoes across the battlefield, heat beyond compare strikes and pushes all around it far, far away and all anyone knows is…
“Blood.”
-----------------
“Oi, Deku.”
“Kacchan?”
A red snout brushes green hair.
“Wake up, stupid. We’re going flying.”
------------------
When Izuku Midoriya was young, he lived with the Dragon Tribes.
Among the red veins of pure heat and boiling hot springs, his mother and he took up residence in a cooler caramel coloured stone cave that belonged to its chief, Mitsuki Bakugou. They slept on thick rugs and skins and rich silks, earthy toned tapestries decorated the exterior of the building. Woven stories in geometric thread depicting lore and epic battles.
They all featured dragons.
The heat was strong, the food spicy and he remembers moments away from his mother as she attended to tea behind closed doors with his aunt curled up among scales and flesh in the hatchling nest with the other young of the tribe. He remembers learning (pathetically) how to hear the silent rumbles that shook the earth, what they meant and to fear not fire, but its undeniable power.
He remembers his Aunt Mitsuki, though not an aunt by blood (he thinks at least, his father could breathe fire after all) who ruled over the Tribes with teeth and claw. Her belly was full of fire and though younger than chiefs before her time she demonstrated wiser practices than many of her peers before her.
Izuku remembers her being loud, arrogant, boisterous and above all brutal.
Traits she passed on to a son his age.
Izuku remembers cowering behind his mother when they first walked into the tribes. His mother, beautifully brave, but nervous at the time, held him to her side and greeted every scaled beast with a shaky smile and a request for directions. Soft hands had held him steady the deeper and deeper they got into the city. With every scaled, human and half scaled face he saw he grew to fear less and less of being eaten and more and more how different it all was compared to home.
How little he fit in.
(And where was father? Why didn’t he join them?)
About halfway to a very large and beautiful looking cavern he remembers a high voice growling at him.
“Svaust re wux?”
Something almost grabbed the back of his shirt before his mother’s quick reflexes tucked him against her soft legs.
A small, blond haired boy with barely any clothes and a small red dragon stood behind them. The boy wore a string of stones around his neck that glittered in the light. On his small hip was an even smaller dagger which he whipped out when they didn’t immediately not respond to him
“SVAUST RE WUX?!” he growled harder.
His mother put on her best smile. The kind that she had when she was healing his wounds or serving up warm food.
It made the small angry boy falter just a little.
“You must be Mitsuki’s son, Katsuki?” she’d said. The boy’s eyes had widened and he dropped the small dagger back against his side. His mother continued. “Ah. That hair is unmistakable you’re her son for sure! What a handsome young man.”
The boy scowled.
The dragon made a rumble.
The boy took several, confident steps before he and the young dragon were directly in front of him. Before he could cower properly, his mother pushed him in front of the boy, clearly not sensing the positively dangerous vibe, in an effort for him to make friends.
“H-Hello?” he stammered.
But the boy did not introduce himself, he leaned in and sniffed him. One side of his mouth was curled up in a snarl. This odd practice was also done by the small red dragon beside him and soon Izuku is overwhelmed with what he’d come to know as dragon breath.
After a few minutes the dragon bumped him with his nose and gave him a lick.
The boy leaned back and placed his hands on his hips.
“Your name is Deku now,” he declared in Common and grabbed his hand and began to pull him in the direction of a large decorated cave. Izuku felt his mother follow amused behind him. The boy jerked a thumb at the dragon, “This one’s Kirishima, he’s kind of Deku too till his wings grow.”
Izuku remembers a lot of his childhood very clearly.
He remembers his own, high pitched voice, scared and nervous saying...
“W-What does Deku mean?”
...and boy he would know later as Kacchan blinking back at him like he was stupid.
Something that would happen often til the end.
-