This is a repost of a story from AO3. It's under the same title, I don't know if this website allows links. Probably not.

Do I need to somehow prove that this is mine? I didn't see any point like that in the guidelines, but maybe.

Ao3 will get chapters faster(by a matter of minutes, but still), and has more chapters right now. I posted the first arc in full, and will probably post a chapter every single day until story here catches up with Ao3. Then uploads would proceed like normal.

Without further ado - here it is.

Izuku was dying of boredom.

Whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was-sensei was rambling about high schools and what not, not that he paid any attention to his speech – UA was the only acceptable choice in his mind.

Fuck, he should have skipped the school today, maybe get some extra training in, or practice with his quirk. Though he would need to pester Katsuki into it, and he was a nerd about skipping classes without good reasons – and not giving a fuck was not a good enough reason for him, somehow.

"Hey" – speak of the devil, Bakugou was trying to get his attention. Izuku deigned to acknowledge him.

"What?" - Midoriya says, craning his head towards Katsuki.

"School shooter is not here today". Which was true, now that Izuku rose from his slumber and laid his eyes upon the class – Fujiwara skipped today? Which was not that uncommon, so Midoriya didn't get why Katsuki pointed it out to him – it's not like he cared about the guy.

"Yeah, so what? He skips often nowadays, I don't get the importance of today" Izuku says, with an annoyed expression on his face.

"I was just making a fucking observation, okay? No need to get snappy." It was a useless fucking observation Katsuki, that's why he is snappy.

"Get to the point" – and level him with stop-fucking-meandering stare

"Wanna hit the arcade today? Beat all other losers high scores at every machine?". That was a very good proposition – they did not visit that arcade in god knows how many months, some fuckers definitely smashed their first places – which was unacceptable to Midoriya, he was the King of that arcade (Bakugou was his right hand man, not that he needed to say that out loud, he for sure knows it already.)

"Fuck yeah. They won't know what hit them" - Izuku answers, maybe a bit too loud for teachers taste.

"Midoriya, Bakugou – be quite, okay?" - Bitch-sensei tried to level them with shut-the-fuck-up stare, but it was ineffective.

"Oi, Sensei. Do you know where Fujiwara is? Is he ill or something?" - Bakugou tried to divert attention from them to Fujiwara.

"No, Bakugou, I don't know where Daisuke-kun is today. I will call his parents after class, it is getting out of hand – four days in a row is too much". So if Izuku skips three days in a row he won't budge? Cool.

Fujiwara was a Bitch with a capital letter. A newcomer, who tried to establish himself in the class hierarchy with a tried and true method – bully and belittle someone and get respect from your peers by being above his victim by comparison. The dumb fuck miscalculated in one thing – he started clowning on Midoriya. He didn't really care all that much, he was but a chihuahua barking at a dragon, deigning him with attention was beneath Izuku. But then he started the dumb bit with kanji of his name – reading them not like Izuku, but like Deku, which was very fucking stupid of him. Izuku told him to shut the fuck up before he broke every bone in his body, but the idiot somehow took that as a signal to ramp it up. The final straw in the camel back was laughing at him being raised in a single-parent family and insulting his mother. Izuku was and is not really close with Inko, but taking that in stride would be stupid of him.

So he solved the problem how all the problems in this world can be solved – with extreme violence. He fought Fujiwara and beat him, but nothing too serious. Fuck that was good, finally seeing him wallowing in defeat. But then the retard used his quirk – Armory – and pulled a gun on him. In retrospect, fucking him up to the point of broken ribs was maybe too excessive, but he deserved it. Classmates who were watching the bout dubbed Daisuke School shooter and it stuck with him to this day, After that disaster, he plummeted to the bottom of hierarchy and became everyone's bitch – if some girl wants a soft drink, Fujiwara is the man, somebody need a pack of fags – Daisuke is your boy, and so on. Then he got taste of this own medicine – some started harassing him, everyone else started avoiding him except for aforementioned errand boy talk.

But in the last month or so Fujiwara started acting weird – he was pretty weird before that, but now he is really fucked up – making Tohokai-aligned posts, getting into fights, now skipping class for days. Izuku won't admit it, but he was getting a bit nervous. He doesn't want to skip class one day and be met with the news of Daisuke shooting it up the day before.

And then he felt it. The ping on his violence-radar. The feeling that fueled his quirk, that made him from a 14-year old boy to a fire-breathing dragon. Their class was on the fourth floor, and his range was barely enough to cover the entire school, but it was enough to feel spike of conflict at the entrance – like somebody knocking somebody out – it was fast, without retaliation. And then in a span of five minutes or so more, and more, and more – three, four, six, then a lot at the same time – he lost count. Izuku would not admit it out loud, but he was a bit worried – this was not a giant fist fight, more like a rampage.

More like a person killing everyone in his path, with a bullet to the head.

"Sensei, can I go to the restroom?" Izuku asked calmly, without betraying his emotions.

Bakugou still somehow instantly caught on, and tried to catch his eyes, but Midoriya resolutely stared at the teacher.

"Class is almost over, but sure" Still-don't-give-a-fuck-about-his-name-sensei excused him.

Izuku stood up, and left the room, immediately went for his phone and started typing to Katsuki.

'i think fuji is shooting up school'

'not sure rn, but a lot of ppl are prbly dead alrdy, i sensed a lot of spikes'

'ill try to stop him, call heroes'

'fuck, okay'

He was typing fast, rushing through the corridors to the fading bursts of violence. Even not transformed, his senses were really good – and he started hearing loud bangs – gunshots. Izuku run down the stairs, skipping stairs as he went, trying to get to the bottom floor as fast as he can. Scales under his arms were almost ready to burst, to cover him in silvery shine of metal, to protect him from anything this world wishes to throw against him. His fingernails were elongating, morphing into claws, his face remade into a snout – a maw with teeth, and soon – fire. His quirk worked to rid him of exhaustion in his muscles – restoring them, reinvigorating him. He was getting faster, stronger, taller, tougher. And scarier, less of a young boy and more of a deformed beast out of legends – a dragon-human hybrid.

The gunshots were getting louder, he started hearing screams. He smelt gun smoke, blood. He was between the third floor and second, the shooter already ripping through it. A moment later, alarm started blasting – there is a school shooting happening right now, everyone stay safe, blah blah. Izuku didn't listen past the first few words, all the dead kids on the first floor would thank the slow fucks for quick reaction.

He ran into second floor, just as Daisuke left another classroom. He was a tall guy, with pitch black hair and lead-colored eyes. Fujiwara was decked out in gear – a vest, probably kevlar, tall boots, form-fitting clothes – all in metallic colors. And a bandanna, with crossed rifle bullets on it. A stray thought entered Izuku's mind, this get up seems like it was made for a hero, good palette, armor, even a first aid kit on the belt.

There was nowhere to hide from gunfire, and his scales, while already out, would probably not stop a bullet from a rifle. Izuku reacted first, instincts honed in countless bouts with Katsuki, but for all his speed, bullets were still faster. Daisuke's quirk, Armory, allowed him to manipulate a metallic mist around him into shapes of firearms. Izuku doesn't know the specifics, but it was fast – barely in a moment a battle rifle morphed into a shotgun. A slug rushed right into his midsection, and only that moment of transformation and Midoriya's faster reaction saved him from a hole in his chest.

But it did not save him from a hole in his left shoulder. And then another. And two more. Fujiwara, while using a pump-action, didn't need to waste a second to reload – he just remade the entire shotgun in an instant. Three more slugs hit Izuku's shoulder, rendering an already extremely painful wound into a hellish one. His vision swam, he fought to stay conscious, and if not for his quirk, he would fall right here and never wake up.

"You!" - only now Daisuke understood who was standing in front of him. He shot on instinct, like he trained his entire life. It was satisfying seeing the dragon mutt in pain, and he wanted to prolong the feeling a bit. "How does it feel, fucker? I hope it is painful as fuck, your mongrel!" – and he really did. Broken ribs were hell, and Midoriya was the bastard who started the bullying campaign, even if he didn't participate in it all that much.

Pain was clouding Izuku's mind. His left arm was dangling at his side, useless, a liability right now. And while he could wait for his quirk to stitch himself, he didn't have the luxury of time. So he did the only thing his brain came up with at this time – he craned his neck, opened his maw and bit through what was left of bone and sinew that was keeping his arm attached to the body. Blood gushed out of stump, in bursts of red liquid, but some seconds later it stopped. His quirk, his lifesaver, scabbed the wound over with scales, preventing him from bleeding out.

"What the fuck, man" – Fujiwara was standing there, dumbstruck by the spectacle in front of him. He knew Midoriya was a bit fucked up, what's with all the fighting and violence, but biting his own arm off? That was a bit too much even for Daisuke, who in the last five minutes or so witnessed a lot of dead bodies, still faltered for a bit, granting Izuku some time too catch a breath.

Not wasting anymore time, Midoriya rushed at Fujiwara, trying to get into close range. Weapon or not, in close quarters combat it would be almost useless – no firearm small enough to be used at such close distances would have enough stopping power to pierce through his scales, which were getting stronger by the second.

Fujiwara realized it too, but instead of trying to kill Izuku while he was running at him, he chose to jump out of the window – it was quite graceful, like a swan dive.

He has good form, Izuku noted – shoulder forward, rolling to spread the impact through the body, and then instantly on his feet, morphing his shotgun into a grenade launcher, and shooting at the window in an instant, Midoriya dodged, but he was still hit by the blast wave and fragments, stopping him in his place and forcing him to reorient himself for about ten seconds, the hit not helping his fading mind. Ironically, while his scales were not pierced, his ribs were probably bruised, if not broken, grenades are no joke he filed a thought for later.

If a minute ago Izuku was angry at the shithead who thought that shooting up a middle school is a really good idea, now he was bristling with fury. 'The fucker is dead, I'll beat him to a pulp, his own mother won't recognize him'. His blood was boiling hot, sprouts of smoke shooting out of his nostrils, flame soon to be on his beck and call. He jumped after Daisuke, not caring about landing properly – his quirk will carry him through anything. It was painful, impact of falling from the second floor hitting his already damaged body like a train wreck, but he pushed through it, only one thought in his mind – Fujiwara is not going home with just cracked ribs.

Then he heard more explosions, and shouts and more explosions – in a never ending cycle of violence and conflict. His blood pumped, his heart soaring with the feeling of power that his quirk granted him through bloodshed around him, but his mind was already mourning more dead bodies, more children that will never grow old. His determination to stop Fujiwara was getting higher and higher by the second.

Courtyard around him was covered in smoke, Daisuke trying to lose him, but his hearing was sharp enough to discern him in the cacophony of screams and explosions – a madman, laughing at pain of others, for all the pain that was inflicted on him.

He charged at his position, readying himself to end it all. His wound was know fully scabbed with skin, so he will not bleed out when the battle was over.

"THE BATTLE IS NEVER OVER" – Fujiwara raved, a beacon of raging violence to Izuku's senses. It was a familiar cry, something in the back of his mind, but this was not the time to mull over Daisuke's words.

He reached him a moment later, Fujiwara not noticing him in his haze of blood and fire. Izuku slammed into him, toppling Daisuke to the ground. Fujiwara, for his credit, reacted quickly, and reoriented himself enough so he could point his launcher at him – a flashbang sailed at Izuku, the bright light and loud bang bringing his senses to agony. He tried to claw at the black haired fucker, but blinded, he only hit the air in front of him.

Fujiwara recovered quicker, and started shooting him point blank, but his scales were strong enough to prevent the bullet piercing his flesh, though it did not stop the pain. The pain! His arm throbbed with phantom pain, his broken ribs were smashing into his insides, the constant hits from slugs all over his body were driving him insane.

He needed to end this, and fast. Or he will fall unconscious, and that is guaranteed death sentence in his current situation. His right eye was fucked up, lucky bastard managed to hit it, thank fuck his quirk protects his organs from the inside with scales, or his brain would be toast. He stuck his claws into the eye socket, digging around until he hit the bullet – and flicked it aside.

"You are so fucked up, Izuku" – Fujiwara whispered, his gun lowered in dumbfound awe. That moment of silence in continuous bullet storm was enough for Midoriya to coil his muscle, to ready his fist and to smash into Fujiwara's midsection, breaking enough ribs to feed a fucking family of five.

He was protected by the worst of impact by his vest, but it was enough damage to render him almost useless in the fight – weak, pathetic little Daisuke Fujiwara, who still believed in all the bullshit that was spewing from everywhere – that all is good on this Earth, that All Might will save everyone and everything, that being a hero is the peak of anything anyone can want.

"I will-l-l not-t-t live like a d-dog" – he was coughing blood, his face more pale then usual. The launcher, which he dropped after the hit, flew to his outstretched palm, and, like always, it morphed in an instant – to a handgun, which he pressed to his temple.

Realization hit Midoriya like All Might hits villains. "NO" – he roared, his voice distorted by his maw, but it was far too late.

"TO BE A WARRIOR IS TO LIVE FOREVER!" – final words by one Daisuke Fujiwara, 14 years old, who will go down in police records under villain name "Lead-Eye", infamous for his lone wolf attack on Aldera Junior High.

Then, a gunshot. Everything stopped around Izuku, his whole being was focused on the boy in front of him, no, not the boy – the corpse of a boy. He didn't pull the trigger, but he felt like emptied a full mag into Fujiwara. And his own heart.

He was breathing heavily, but not from exhaustion – never in his life he will have the comfort of lying to himself that his breathing wasnot from a panic attack.

"He is fucking dead. Just like that, DEAD!" - he was raving at air, his lone arm flailing around, his teeth clicking with a sickening sound, and then, finally – gout's of flames, shooting out from his maw and arm, followed by blessed silence of fading consciousness. His two meter tall body would topple back, his mind not there to notice him being caught by strong arms of All Might, too little too late to stop Lead-eye's suicide.

Bakugou was fuming. He was fuming at Izuku for running off to fight without him, even if Katsuki knew that squaring up against a firearm would be suicide for him. He was fuming at the school, for sounding the alarm only five minutes after the bastard started shooting people. He fuming at Daisuke for shooting the fucking school up, damn him. But the person he was angry the most was himself.

He knew he should have reported the fucker to heroes for that posts. "To be a warrior is to live forever, the battle is never over!" - Butcher's followers catchphrases, sick Neo-Nazi fucks. He should have went to the police, he should have reported all the weird shit Daisuke was doing in the last weeks, he should have… done something, fuck!

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" - he punched the bathroom stall he was at, hiding after calling the heroes about the shooting. It buckled a bit, thin walls shaking after his punch. He was angry, but deep down he was also scared. For all the people in the school, a bit for himself, though he would never admit it, but most of all he was scared for his best friend, for Lung, for Izuku.

"Guns are dangerous as fuck, they are not like my blasts. If they pierce something important, Lung is toast" – Bakugou whispered to himself, hyping himself up for charging out of restroom and helping his friend, no matter his own injuries.

He tried to distract himself with something, but his mind still wandered to Lung. He remembered how he started calling him that. The were barely ten, or maybe eleven – picking out hero names, Izuku was complaining that all dragon-related names were already taken by others. Katsuki, content with his kick-ass King Explosion Murder, helped him with picking out names, and came up with the idea of using Tien-Lung – name for some Chinese dragon or something, Bakugou doesn't really remember, but it was too taken. Izuku, in his usual fit of anger, threw out the first part of Tien and told him that his hero name would be Lung – for which Katsuki relentlessly ribbed him - "The dangerous part in lung cancer is cancer, not lung", but Izuku didn't relent. And then it stuck to this day.

"Fuck it, we ball" – Bakugou charged out of restroom, taking environment around him with a glance – everything was pretty normal. He stepped up to the window, glancing out of it – but it was covered in smoke, and, decision totally made in a sound state, he jumped out of the window, cushioning his fall with blasts from his palms. In an instant, he was confronted by a giant shadow. By All Might.

"Do not resist, young man! It is futile" – All Might boomed in his loud voice, looming over him.

Right at this moment, Katsuki was very fucking afraid. "Wait, I am not a goddamn villain! I want to help my friend, Lun- er, fuck, Izuku! Dragon guy, maybe you saw him, he should be giant by now!" - he shouted, afraid to be Texas Smashed by All Might.

"Then why did I hear explosions from your position? Is it your quirk?" - All Might said, apprehensively, but maybe willing to believe him.

"Yes, I jumped from the fourth floor, slowed my fall with my quirk" – Bakugou quickly answered.

"I.. am willing to believe you, you don't look ragged enough, and you described your friend thoroughly – a giant dragon guy indeed! Do you wish to see Young Izuku?" - Number One hero boomed, with his signature smile wide on his face.

"Yeah. I wish" – please don't be dead, please.

In an instant, he was transported from where he has fallen to Lung's side. And he was in a hellish state – he was missing an arm, an eye, had a wide array of bruises all over his body. Katsuki was shook, but he steeled himself. He would stand guard until paramedics arrive, and from now on, he would always stand by Izuku's side, no matter the challenge.

No matter the cost.