Chapter Text
Saturdays would have to be one of Izuku’s favorite days of the week.
They give him time to run errands and take care of the things that he normally wouldn’t be able to do, his job as an elementary school teacher greatly limiting him during the weekdays. He’s had to force himself to become a morning person despite his old history of staying awake until ungodly hours in the morning to finish papers and study for exams. He may no longer have to worry about those things, but sometimes lesson planning will get away from him and he’ll find evenings stretching into long nights with little to no sleep.
Not exactly conducive to waking up at the ass crack of dawn to wrangle a bunch of screaming children into a classroom.
But nonetheless, he likes his job.
Although some kids can be irredeemable brats, the majority of his students never fail to bring a smile to his face. There is nothing quite like a child claiming you as their favorite teacher, or a group of kids yelling “It’s Mr. Midoriya!” before tackling you in a big group hug. He keeps every drawing, every note he has ever received from a student, and files them away to be looked at later in case he needs a pick me up.
Today though, is a Saturday, and Saturdays mean time to himself or time with friends. And that’s exactly what he’s doing today.
After what feels like forever, he’s finally meeting up with some friends at a small coffee shop he has grown to love. He’s sitting at a table next to a large window, sipping his cappuccino and looking out at the bustling city. It’s late March, and although it’s nice outside for the most part, today is on the chillier side, so Izuku decides it’s best to forgo the outdoor seating.
The inside is warm and earthy. There’s plenty of natural lighting, the walls on one end of the building almost entirely made up of windows. A large mural of a tree ripe with coffee cherries sprawls out along a wall in the second section of the building. Floating shelves are lined with twinkling fairy lights and an assortment of succulents.
Izuku can’t really tell if they’re real or fake, but he concludes that it’d be a lot of work either way to keep up with them whether they have to be watered or dusted.
Two baristas bustle behind the counter, dancing around each other to finish making people's orders. Tables are spaced out with a good deal of room in between, and there are only two or three chairs per table.
Izuku had purposefully chosen one that already had three chairs at it, though the cute little cacti in the center may have also swayed his decision. His thinking is cut short when he hears a familiar voice.
“Izu! It’s so good to see you, it’s been forever!”
Izuku smiles up at Ochako, seeing her rosy cheeks pulled up in a grin. She’s wearing an oversized blue knit sweater that nearly swallows her hands, if not for the steaming mug cupped between them. She slides into the chair directly across from Izuku and sets her beverage down on the table.
He can smell the cinnamon wafting into the air.
“It’s good to see you too Uraraka! Where’s Ashido?” Izuku inquires, glancing quickly to the counter before turning his attention back to his friend.
“Oh, Mina will be here soon, she always sleeps in on Saturdays,” Ochako explains. “It’s funny, you guys work together and yet she’s nothing like you on her time off!” She giggles into her hand and Izuku laughs with her.
It’s no surprise that she’s running late. If her texts were anything to go by, she was out at the club last night until the early hours of the morning. Mina has always been a wild card, loving the night life and partying at any chance she gets.
There’s a reason Izuku has his Do Not Disturb set to automatically turn on by bedtime. He loves her for her spunk and boundless energy, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be reminded of it through drunk phone calls at 2am.
Though it’s probably thanks to all that crazy energy she has that she’s able to keep up with the kids she teaches in the first place.
Izuku smiles and props his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his knuckles.
“How have things been for you at work? Are things going smoothly at the publishing company?”
“Well, yes and no.” Ochako shrugs her shoulders. “I got put in charge as the head editor for this one author who should be releasing book three of her fantasy series soon,” she mutters into her mug.
Izuku hums in excitement. “That’s amazing! You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while, right?"
“She’s impossible, Izu,” Ochako groans, throwing her head back. “She keeps trying to throw all these crazy plot twists in that don’t adhere to the timeline of her story at all! It’s driving me insane! I keep having to tell her to revise her storyline because no, she can’t say that dragons have been extinct for nearly three books and then decide to include them in the end to kill off the villain. That’s so lazy and random! And if I have to email her one more time about not letting the main character get stabbed by a 'plant-sword' I’m gonna- WAH"
Ochako is interrupted from her venting when arms rush her from behind, pulling her into a hug despite the back of the chair acting as a barrier. Izuku relaxes once he sees Mina’s wavy pink hair peeking out from over Ochako’s head. The bubblegum pink pleated skirt she’s wearing wrinkles against the furniture, and her black turtleneck sweater looks itchy as it rubs into the brunette.
“Mina, you just about gave me a heart attack!” She whines, cheeks puffing out.
Mina completely ignores the complaint directed towards her.
“Izu babe, I missed you so much!” Mina drops Ochako unceremoniously back into her chair before flying into Izuku, who has barely enough time to stand before she grapples him into an equally warm hug. The sweater is softer than he thought it would be.
“Ashido, I just saw you yesterday,” Izuku chuckles, wrapping his arms around her in return.
“Aw, but you know it’s not the same when we’re at work! Your lunch break ends right when mine starts so we’re barely able to talk to each other.” She pouts, rubbing her messy hair into Izuku’s chest. A blush rides high in his cheeks as he notices others in the store staring at them.
Before he’s able to tell her this, she lets go on her own and slides into the chair next to Ochako. “So, what juicy gossip did I miss? Did you tell Ocha the story about the toilet?”
Izuku nearly chokes on his coffee, not expecting her to immediately air out his dirty laundry from earlier this week. He coughs to clear his airway and fans his face before answering.
“No Ashido, we haven’t been here for that long before you arrived.”
“Wait, what happened with a toilet?” Ochako asks, brows scrunching together.
“Oh my god, girl, it was hilarious.”
“Do you have to tell her? That was mortifying!” Izuku huffs, slumping in his chair and squishing his cheeks with his palms.
“Shh Izu I wanna hear this.” Ochako waves him off, scooching forward in her seat towards Mina. He notes the mischievous sparkle in both sets of eyes and groans.
“Okay, so, unfortunately I wasn’t there when it happened, cause you know, men’s bathroom and all,” Mina starts, voice far too mirthful for Izuku’s liking. “But apparently the bathrooms closest to Izu’s classroom had recently been renovated cause they were old and nasty, and they were only reopened this past Tuesday. Well, some of the other teachers who had used those bathrooms were complaining that the plumbing was still all messed up, that the toilets wouldn’t flush and stuff like that, so most teachers just stayed away from them. And then on Thursday, Izuku had eaten a cookie that a student baked with laxatives as a prank- “
“Oh no-”
“Oh yeah, and so anyways he was teaching, business as usual, when the laxatives hit him hard and he went sprinting to the closest bathroom, which of course was the one that was all janky, and proceeded to shit his entire- “
“O-KAY we do NOT need to go into detail here!” Izuku squeaks, shooting a hand out to cover Mina’s mouth, but she dodges him easily and continues onwards to Izuku’s eternal dismay.
“And then somehow, this man, our beautiful little angel boy here, gripped the toilet handle so tight that he yanked it clean off.”
“What?!”
“And- and then water started spewing out of the broken handle like a fire hydrant, flooding the floor and soaking him to the bone.” Mina is starting to have trouble finishing the story through her laughter, cheeks pink and tears brimming in her eyes. “H-He had to call me, to go get help, but this poor man was still shitting his brains out from the laxatives!”
“That was the single most mortifying experience of my life. Never before did I think my boss would ever catch me with my pants down, crying in a pool of… of toilet water…” Izuku is still holding his face in his hands, glowing bright red as the two girls in front of him proceed to cry in hysterics.
“Izu, I’m so sorry that happened to you, but wow that really would only happen to you!” Ochako wipes a tear from her eye as her laughter devolves into giggles. “What happened to the student who made the cookie?”
“Oh, he’s been suspended from school for a week, and who knows what punishment his parents planned for him. I’ve never seen parents look so simultaneously enraged and embarrassed by something their kid had done.” Mina looks up as she recalls the expressions on their faces, laughter finally dying down between the both of them.
“Yeah, yeah. Can we not talk about that anymore and get back to Ochako’s frustrating author problems as head editor?” Izuku says in an attempt to shift the conversation away from himself. He’s successful, because Mina slams her hands onto the table and turns towards the other girl.
“What?! Girly pop, that’s so stinking exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Mina all but squeals. Ochako bashfully rubs the back of her head.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she says, attempting to downplay the achievement, but the grin pulling at her lips tells them how proud she is of herself, and rightly so.
Their conversation after that is considerably tamer. It mostly consists of Ochako’s life at the publishing company, some silly parent-teacher conferences, and Mina’s newest red-headed lover that she met at the club last night.
“Y’all, he was my damn hero. He saw some prick try to roofie my drink when he thought I wasn’t looking- newsflash asshole, I was looking- and before I could do anything about it, he knocked the guy clean out and started ranting about how ‘unmanly he was’ for doing something so gross.” Mina sighs with stars in her eyes. Izuku and Ochako just look on with fond expressions.
“After the creep was uh, escorted out, of course I asked manly man to a dance and oh my god, guys, he could not dance to save a drowning puppy’s life, but I think that just makes him even better. Took him home and oh man, he sure knows how to eat, if you know what I mean.” She nudges Ochako, who just makes a face as Izuku feels his cheeks burn.
“On that note, have either of you two had any luck in the sack? I’m mostly looking at you Izu babe.” Mina winks, sipping her latte. Izuku only sighs at this.
“No, I’m still as single as ever.”
“Haven’t even had a good lay yet?” Mina presses, amusement laced in her words.
“I’d really rather be dating someone before having sex, Ashido.” Izuku blushes, holding his cup to his lips and frowning.
“Yeah Mina, can you even imagine our innocent Izu having a one-night stand?” Ochako grins and waggles her eyebrows pointedly. “That’s definitely not happening.”
“Oh come on, you never have time to find a date cause you’re too busy with work and writing books you’ll never publish, and you don’t get laid cause you can’t get a date.” Mina rolls her eyes. “This is why you’re still a virgin, babe.”
Izuku scoffs, feeling a blush crawl up his neck, disliking the direction the conversation has begun to take. “And so what if I’m a virgin! I just want to wait until I’m with someone I can feel loved and safe with.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that!” Ochako interjects softly, placing a hand over Mina’s when she tries to speak again. “But Izu… you’re turning 26 soon. You’re in the prime of your youth! If you don’t get out there, then you’ll never know what you’re missing.”
“I have a pretty good idea.” His stomach sinks, indignation bitter on his tongue, unlike the coffee he just finished drinking. As if he hasn’t already heard this same thing a million ways by dozens of people.
Mina clicks her teeth, giving Izuku a pitying look.
“Mm, no, not really. If you haven’t experienced something, then you can’t really say you know. Even in your books, the spiciest thing you’ve ever written stopped at kissing! You’re still just our sweet, naïve innocent little boy.” Mina coos while reaching across the table and strokes his hair. Izuku feels the familiar burn of shame hot in his cheeks and bats her hand away.
“I’m not naïve and I’m not innocent. I know perfectly well what happens during s-sex!” He defends, cursing inwardly at his ill-timed stutter. Ochako and Mina both study him, clearly unconvinced. “I do!”
“Are you sure?” Mina smiles sweetly.
“Yes!”
“Cause we can give you the talk.”
“I do not need the talk.”
“You see baby, when two people wanna get frisky, they take of all their clothes and- “
Izuku slaps his hands down onto the table and stands, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”
“Aw baby, don’t be embarrassed!” Mina titters as Ochako rests her hand against her shoulder, trying to hold back a laugh of her own.
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m done having you patronize me! I know exactly what goes on during sex and I can prove it,” Izuku declares before he can think about what he’s saying.
“What? Prove it how?” Ochako gets out of her chair to pursue Izuku, with Mina following behind.
“Oh, don’t you worry, you’ll see. Just give me some time,” Izuku mutters under his breath and leaves them to stare at each other, confusion drawn on their faces. Instead of pursuing him, they shrug and return to the shop to finish their coffees, completely unaware of the motion of events they have unwittingly just set off.
Okay, so he talked big back there, but in reality, Izuku is at a loss for what to do.
He of course isn’t about to go hunt some random guy down for a one-night stand, not when his first time is so important to him. He knows there’s nothing wrong with casual sex, especially since he’s a fully-fledged adult, thank you very much. Plenty of his friends have very healthy, abundant sex lives, and some of them have even met their person along the way!
Mina meeting her manly man in shining, er, manliness is just the latest person to prove that works just fine.
But imagining himself sleeping with someone who is no better than a stranger, only for them to both pretend it never happened afterwards, leaves him feeling so… empty.
Call him mushy and sentimental, but whatever. It’s just not happening.
So, what options does that leave? He could explicitly tell them all the things he’s read about or watched in porn for, ah, research purposes, but that would be beyond awkward and uncomfortable for all of them. Well, except for maybe Mina. She’d probably get a hoot from it. But no, they do not need to know what Izuku jacks it to.
He could always… write about it?
Mina had mentioned his attempts at writing a book earlier, sad as they may be. He never felt that those stories were good enough to leave his laptop or the printed manuscripts shoved into his bookshelf, but it isn’t a bad idea since those two would be the only ones to see it. They’ve always seemed to enjoy the things he’d written before, though he’s sure they just said that to be supportive of his hobbies.
He can’t just write a sex scene by itself though! He would have to add background, build characters; that’s where all the fun comes from writing after all.
Oh, but if he tries to write a romance then he’ll get so caught up in the nuances and details that it will take forever just to get to the first sex scene! And even then, he feels like it will be too vanilla, prompting the girls to just tease him for an entirely different reason.
He continues to walk down the streets of the town, enamored with his thoughts and brainstorming different plots. He’s a sucker for the fantasy genre, so it will definitely have to be something magical.
Magical, and full of sex.
He stops in his tracks, a smirk tugging at his lips. He knows of just the thing.
An incubus, a creature of the night who feeds on the sexual energy of humans and helps them indulge in carnal pleasure. That would be the perfect character for this story! He could write all about an incubus and his willing victim.
The only problem with that is that he really doesn’t know much about them other than that.
Izuku frowns, but a grin slowly takes its place as he feels the excitement of a story being born. He can feel the motivation thrumming beneath his skin, completely unaware of how strange he must look standing in the middle of the sidewalk, smiling to himself and muttering low and incomprehensible. No one has the heart to approach him.
A mother clutches her child closer to her hip.
He suddenly takes off then, feet guiding him to one of his favorite bookshops. He has always preferred doing research the old-fashioned way, rather than looking for things on the internet. Something about spending time in a store or library, holding old and new books alike to scour for information is just so much more rewarding to him.
Also, when it comes to more occult-type subject matter, internet results can somehow be both over-abundant and underwhelming. It’s hard to find anything concrete past blogs ran by snobby know-it-alls and angsty teenagers looking for a new hobby.
He isn’t walking for long before he rounds a familiar corner past the post office, but as he approaches the embossed glass doors, he sees something that makes his heart drop.
The store is closed.
Of course it’s closed. Izuku curses himself for forgetting that they don’t open on the weekends. He bemoans the idea of having to wait on getting started on his research when he’s nearly vibrating with inspiration, but he resigns himself to his fate and begins to walk back home, dragging his feet.
He keeps his eyes glued to the sidewalk, dodging the crowd with practiced ease. He’s a few minutes from his apartment when a particularly strong gust of wind blows his hair back, causing him to look up at his surroundings and notice something peculiar.
He spots a building that he doesn’t recognize, which is odd considering he’s lived in his apartment for the past four years and is intimately familiar with every business that lines this particular route.
Upon further inspection, he notes that the building is actually a bookstore, and his confusion only grows. Izuku prides himself on having been to every bookstore and library this city has to offer. And yet, not ten feet in front of him stands one that he has never laid his eyes on before.
Maybe it’s new? Izuku ponders, curiosity stitching his eyebrows together.
But that doesn’t make sense. The building is obviously old and worn, vines climbing the structure and dipping into the cracks of the dirty, yellowed plaster along the walls. A cobblestone path with weeds peeking through the gaps lead to a heavy-looking wooden door, and above the door hangs a chipped sign that bears the name of the store.
Medela Bookshop and Oddities.
There is no indication as to whether the shop is open or closed, and since it seems to be one that Izuku has yet to explore, he decides to look for his research materials here. As long as it’s open, of course.
He’s pleasantly surprised when he manages to push the door ajar, and the soft chime of a bell rings in his ears.
He pokes his head in and peers around the door before venturing inside, his eyes widening upon taking in the view of the room.
The entrance leads into one big room that has multiple towering bookshelves, tall enough to touch the ceiling, which is at least twelve feet high. Each unit is stocked to the brim with books, almost overflowing. Whatever can’t fit horizontally across the shelf is stuffed on top, spines facing outward. Additional stacks rest at the feet of the shelves, looking ready to teeter over.
And books aren’t the only thing that’s plentiful. Dozens of hanging plants decorate the room, leaves wider than Izuku’s palm and twice as long. They spill down the sides of the bookshelves almost as if they’re growing out of them.
He’s so lost in his observations that he doesn’t even notice that he’s not alone.
“And who might you be, young man?” A voice cuts through the silence.
Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to face whoever is speaking to him, and glances around in confusion, seeing as no one is there. He then feels a tug at his sleeve and points his gaze downwards.
He leaps back when he sees a tiny old woman. She barely comes up passed his waist, and she’s wearing a white lab coat that’s so big on her it pools around her feet, which are hidden inside large pink rain boots. Her wiry grey hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she’s got big rectangular glasses covering half of her face, lenses as thick as jam jars.
She cocks her head to the side, seemingly unaware of the fierce scare she just gave him, and Izuku belatedly realizes that she had asked him a question.
“O-oh I’m Izuku Midoriya. I- well I noticed your shop while I was walking home and wanted to take a look around if that’s alright with you.” He flounders out, bowing slightly. The old woman just stares at him for a few moments before smiling, eyes crinkling into crescents. A look equal parts knowing and amused shines inside them.
“Ah, I see. My shop. Well, my name is Shuzenji, but please just call me Granny. Take your time looking around, I’ll just be tending to my plants in the back.” She points off to the left and Izuku notices the room she’s talking about for the first time, somehow having missed it when he first took in his surroundings.
He thanks her as she walks away, her coat dragging heavily on the floor behind her, and he idly wonders how it’s still so white if it’s constantly touching the ground like that. Her floors must be impeccably clean, he concludes.
Izuku turns around and begins to browse through the shelves.
The books are disorganized without any rhyme or reason. There doesn’t seem to be a system of any sort, which, Izuku realizes with a grimace, will make things very difficult for him. He peruses through the books lining the shelf in front of him for what feels like forever, unable to find anything that might resemble what he’s searching for.
In fact, it’s hard to understand most of the books that he picks up; half of them are filled with gibberish and the other half are in languages he can’t even recognize. He closes the book in his hands with a sigh and places it back where he found it.
He decides the best course of action would be to start in the rear of the store, but as he makes his way to the back, his foot catches the corner of one of the stacks of books on the floor.
He tries to retract his foot in an attempt to avoid kicking over the pile and instead loses his balance, doubling over and throwing his hands forward to catch himself, squawking on the way down. He falls hard with a loud oof, ground shaking, and the pile tips over anyways, collapsing on top of Izuku. Hard corners smack into him, promising a bloom of bruises on his tender skin.
With a grunt, he slowly raises himself to his elbows, books sliding off his head and shoulders. Tears prick the corners of his eyes, whether from embarrassment or pain, he doesn’t know. He glances to the room that the shopkeeper disappeared into in hopes that she didn’t just witness his colossal failure.
It doesn’t matter, he couldn’t have been any louder, so she must have heard it at the very least.
He’s about to give up on finding anything and scurry out with what little dignity he has left intact when something catches his eye.
At the bottom right corner of the shelf, almost seemingly tucked away, is an old, tattered book. Izuku feels oddly compelled to reach forward and grab it, curiosity washing over him. The book is grey black from age, words on the spine nearly completely worn away, evidence that it had once been well loved and read time and time again.
He runs his hand over the front of the book, barely able to make out the title.
Malum Noctis.
Evil of the Night.
Well, it certainly sounds promising.
He opens the book, rifling through the pages and noticing that its contents are written entirely in Latin. Relief floods him, suddenly very grateful that he had chosen to take that elective in college. Others told him it was impractical, but now it would come in handy, though of course only if he remembered enough of it.
He gingerly flips through page after page, scanning the words and pleased to find that he recognizes a good amount until he spots exactly what he’s looking for.
Incubi.
Perfect.
Satisfied with his discovery, he takes it to the counter with the intention of purchasing it and calls out to the shopkeeper. He waits for a few seconds, drumming his fingers along the surface in front of him. He peers over his shoulder at the room she went into earlier and calls again, louder this time, then looks back down at the counter.
Silence.
Maybe she’s hard of hearing? Izuku tilts his head and purses his lips, about to turn around and walk closer to her so he can try to get her attention, but instead notices a little silver bell on the countertop with a note under it that reads: “Ring for service.”
He picks it up, twisting to face the backroom and shakes the bell gently, clear trill ringing in the air, expecting that maybe now she’ll come walking out. What he’s not expecting is the voice right next to him.
“Yes, dearie, I take it you’re all set then?” The shopkeeper asks from behind the counter, causing Izuku to jump with a start and spin to face her.
When did she get back there?
“I, uh, yes ma’am.” Izuku flusters. He blinks and shakes his head, placing the book and the bell down on the countertop. “I’m ready.”
The woman tuts as she picks it up.
“I told you dear, you can call me Granny. In fact, I’d rather you do,” she chides softly before looking at the book in her hands. She squints, knocks her head to the side, then frowns. “I don’t remember ever seeing this one before. Are you sure this is one of my books, dearie?”
Izuku isn’t too surprised to hear that. The store isn’t the most organized after all. “I’m positive ma’am- er, Granny. I found it on one of the shelves over there.”
She flips the book back and forth, looking over it, humming low and drawn out. A thought flashes in her eyes, and she shakes her pointer finger in the air.
“One moment, let me see if I can find it in the registry.” The shopkeeper bends down to grab an impossibly thick catalog and flops it onto the surface in front of her, dust shooting out and into Izuku’s nose, making him sneeze. She goes quiet as she scans the catalog, finger tracing over the tiniest writing Izuku has ever seen.
Minutes tick by, and Izuku can’t help but tap his foot to fill the silence before realizing it may come across as rude and impatient, rather than anxious. He opts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet instead. Her frown deepens after a few minutes of searching.
“I can’t find it here anywhere. I’ve never registered this book before.”
“Are you sure? Maybe someone else registered it.” Izuku feels his stomach start to sink, wondering if he’ll have to give up and look for a different source to reference his research off of.
He's feeling oddly attached to the book already, feeling like fate is what drew Izuku towards it by placing it in his path. It definitely wasn't just his clumsiness and sheer, dumb luck.
The old woman gives him a contemplative look and purses her lips.
“Well given the fact that I am the only one who has ever worked here, I find that highly unlikely,” she explains, and Izuku deflates before she continues. “But honestly dearie, since I can’t find it in this registry anywhere, I technically don’t own it. Someone must have brought it in with them and left it by accident. If you want it, you can take it home with you.” She places the book back onto the counter, indifferent. Izuku brightens at this.
“Really? Are you sure?” He beams, fingers already curling back around the book. She nods. “Oh, thank you so much!” His smile is practically blinding, and the old woman finds herself squinting at him.
“Don’t you worry about it, but I must warn you to keep your wits about you. Knowledge is power my dear, and not all of it is good. Read carefully, and act accordingly. Now,” She leaps off from the stool she was sitting on. “If you don’t mind, I would like to close up so I can eat my lunch.”
“O-oh of course, I’m sorry! Thank you again Granny, have a great day!” He leaves the store hugging the book tight to his chest. He feels the familiar thrum of excitement of a new project ahead of him.
Honestly, he’s unsure of what he enjoys more, the writing itself, or the hunt for information that goes into it.
Hah, take that Ochako and Mina. I’ll write a story so full of passionate sex that you’ll be left reeling. Don’t underestimate virgins!
He definitely doesn’t cringe at his thoughts as soon as they filter through him.
After sitting at his desk for what feels like hours, Izuku feels the usual crick in his neck, so he interlaces his fingers and reaches his arms over his head, neck and shoulders cracking in satisfying clicks. Deciding that he’s spent enough time sitting in place and should probably hydrate, he finally gets up to stretch his legs. His knees pop pathetically.
He’s so young, yet somehow so old.
He feels like he made pretty good headway at translating the book, despite having to rely on old translation dictionaries and his own foggy memory. College was only a few years ago and yet he had already forgotten so much.
He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and notices that it’s a few minutes shy of midnight. . For a moment he forgets that it’s a Saturday and panics, then remembers and relief floods him. He can already feel exhaustion pulling at him, courtesy of his self-imposed early bedtime, but he shakes it off. There’s too much to left to do, and the more he’s able to translate tonight, the more he’ll be able to brainstorm for his story.
Forgetting the water he was going to get, he instead opts to put on the kettle and make some tea to help him stay focused. While waiting for the water to heat up, he leaves the kitchen to do a little more work.
He returns to his office and takes in the sorry state of his desk. Papers are strewn everywhere, filled with scratchy handwriting and poorly duplicated drawings. Dozens of crumpled sheets litter the floor where he missed his wastepaper bin, proof that hand-eye coordination has never been his strong suit.
There’s a reason he didn’t try for basketball in high school. Well, that and the bullies.
He shakes his head, choosing not to go down that train of thought, and turns his attention to what he came back into the room for in the first place.
The book is sitting in the center of the desk, opened to a page with diagrams and illustrations that Izuku had earlier realized was supposed to portray a summoning ritual. He traces a finger along the curve of the circle, idly musing about what the person who made this book must have been thinking when they drew it up.
What would compel a person to try to summon a demon? And for sex no less.
Sure, Izuku had his own moments of debilitating loneliness; where fierce want would course through his veins and hold him in a grip of iron and ice into the young hours of the morning.
But he wouldn’t summon a demon over it. He’d just, you know, languish and yearn from the comforts of his intimate isolation, like a healthy adult.
Okay, maybe he can kind of, sort of understand where this person was coming from. But only a little bit. He sighs and pauses his finger at the bottom of the illustration, choosing to focus on that instead.
The circle of magic resides in the center of the page, outlined by intricate designs and punctuated by sigils he can’t recognize. Upon further observation, he notices small handwriting underneath the circle that he hadn’t seen earlier, right where his finger is now hovering.
His brows knit together, and he sits back down, grabbing the notebook he had been recording his translations into before turning his eyes back onto the writing. He struggles to read the words, whether because of exhaustion or the cramped, scraggly penmanship, he’s unsure. It’s definitely not because he needs reading glasses. Certainly not that.
He squints, and under his breath, he mumbles the words aloud.
“Virgo, Mater, daemones, audire ad virgo corpus meum, et filium tuum lenire sola cordis mei. Offero quid possim , et satiatus concupiscentiae semel ego eum tibi restituam.”
He flips through the pages of his notes to see if he can find earlier translations to help decipher the writing but is stopped by a sharp pain in his index finger. He hisses and flings his hand out, noticing a deep papercut that has already begun to bleed. He clutches his hand at the wrist, cursing as he looks down and notices drops of red staining the page of the old book.
“Great, that book is probably hundreds of years old, and you just had to go and bleed all over it Izuku. How wonderful, you’re a true scholar.”
He grumbles and starts to reach for the box of tissues that sits at the edge of his desk when he notices a slight draft of air brush through his bangs. He furrows his brow, looking for the source of the draft when suddenly the pages of the old book start fluttering to life, a greater gust of wind erupting forth.
A force pulses and pushes Izuku back out of his chair, and he doesn’t even register the yelp that’s pulled from him when his skull cracks against the carpeted floor.
He whips his head up, dizzy from the whiplash, trying to blink away the stars crowding his vision. He must not do a very good job, because when he looks up at his desk, he’s left bewildered at the sight of the book hovering in the air by itself.
The circle of magic appears to lift away from the pages and glows a menacing red, then orange as it bursts into a ring of fire and expands twice, then thrice in size. A bright flash of light forces Izuku to squeeze his eyes shut and turn away, holding an arm in front of his face in an attempt to block out the light and protect himself from the heat rapidly growing into an inferno.
Pressure yawns overhead, threatening to swallow Izuku whole. It creaks like a chasm, and suddenly all the air in the room is rushing back towards the ring.
A deafening boom resounds in the room.
After a few seconds the bright light seems to dim and the heat fades, and Izuku finally decides to risk a glance at his desk. What he sees causes his world to tilt on its axis.
What on earth?
Not three feet in front of him, in place of where he expects to see the old book, he instead sees a tall, broad, and very naked man. He’s crouched like a tiger waiting to pounce, chin tucked into his chest.
With the part of Izuku’s brain that isn’t freaking the fuck out, he notices that this guy is absolutely cut, body resembling the marble statues of Greek gods you would find in a museum. Tattoos in the shape of bands wrap around bulging biceps and the mids of powerful thighs. His ash-blond hair is spiky and textured, making it look like he was the victim of an explosion.
Izuku’s thoughts, lethargic and stunned as they may be, reach the conclusion that maybe it has to do with the actual explosion that just went off in his study.
Most notable on the stranger, however, are the long, bat-like wings that protrude from his shoulder blades and the lithe, leathery tail flicking back and forth behind him. As the man lifts his head, slowly, purposefully, Izuku’s heartrate ratchets to a dangerous speed.
His eyes, same color as the blood dripping from Izuku’s papercut, lock onto his trembling form.
What the actual fuck is going on?!