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Assistant: Title: His Kidilante
        Author: Otaku6337 Otaku6337 
        Chapter: 71/127 
        Summary: Izuku is a vigilante, and frankly it's the only good thing in his life. Or at the very least, it's brought about all of the good things. He loves nothing more than patrolling under the stars with Eraserhead at his side and Tsukauchi a phone call away.So even though his civilian life might finally be amounting to something, now that he's getting into UA with a chance of becoming an actually-Licensed hero, he can't give his vigilantism up.Equally, Aizawa isn't giving up on his Kidilante. The kid's been his for three years already, there's no way that those half-completed adoption papers in his desk drawer are going to go to waste. If only he had time to breathe beyond keeping his Kidilante safe, alongside his new class who are apparently villain magnets. It's going to be a long year. 
  (Written to fulfil every part of my pathetic little soul that just had to write ''angsty! but kind! little shit! Izuku who's an insomniac Quirkless vigilante that Aizawa is 100% going to adopt if only he could figure out his real identity but he refuses to force it out of him now because it took him years to earn that trust dammit and he'll wait longer if that's what it takes'' idea, but mine.)

            
            I feel the need to let new readers (in particular at least) know that these early chapters are *old*, lol. My writing style (and ability overall) has grown and changed and developed a lot in the over-a-year (now over three years, as of the second iteration of this a/n) I've been posting this fic now. I'm fond of them regardless for how they were my beginning, and Kidzu's beginning with his Dad, you know?Either way, with that disclaimer/note over with, please enjoy!  (^///^)(11/02/21 - nope, now 04/02/23)
        Contents: Chapter 71: LXVII - Frost and Fondness Lead To Sweet Dreams
    

    

        
          
          
            This had way more fluff than I expected and I revel in it  ^^    (then writes an angsty scene and goes hhhh whoops?)
          
        

      
        
          For some reason, this chapter took me a while, and it certainly didn't help that I didn't really start until yesterday afternoon, but we're here now!  Enjoy~
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
     Izuku is beaming the next morning, waking up to find his face utterly buried in between capture weapon and warm skin, the contrasting sensations of a reassuring heartbeat and the less pleasant crust of dried drool between his face and his Dad's neck. There's a heavy arm crushing his ribs and his knees are digging into the soft flesh of a stomach, a hip bone no doubt bruising Izuku's shin in turn. It's absolute perfection. "Hn," Aizawa grunts, probably in response to the slightly gross sensation of Izuku peeling his drool-stuck face away from his Dad's throat, and Izuku finds himself kept close by strong arms. It doesn't feel like a trap though, not dangerous or restrictive. No, it's just being held close by his favourite person and the greenette has no inclination to pull away, to struggle, because he feels safe and cherished here. Kami, he really is home."Dreaded time.""Dreaded time," Izuku snorts, too sleepy to register the voices in the back of his head, his own words muffled sweetly into a pulse point. His hero simply grumbles again, dragging his stubbled jaw roughly through soft curls, digging in and rubbing, all feline affection and gruff fondness. Izuku giggles, the sound lopsided and messy but completely heartfelt. "Your boys are visiting this morning, yeh?"  Neither of them have moved any more yet, Aizawa settling his chin atop Izuku's head again."Mmhm."  The hum is warbling and content, reverberating in the scant space between them."Good. They'll be happy to see you again, you know?"  Izuku doesn't bother replying this time, not needing to, and instead finds himself content to stay curled in close to his Dad, half-wishing that their cats could be with them like usual, but it's only an idle thought rather than a fierce need, and he's happy to wallow in the soft, sleepy contentment of waking up so very safe.  They do eventually move though, Aizawa finding that his joints have been seizing up and Izuku clocks the growing tension and knows that his hero won't move unless he's sure the teen himself is alright with it, so he's the one that draws back a bit, grumbling all the while, careful of the bandages on his left hand and the IV in his right wrist, and his Dad watches on with eagle eyes, thoughtlessly reaching up to re-adjust the drip's wire for him.  Something in the easy care and intent behind that, the way that his hero's entire being seems to focus on Izuku and looking after him, has his heart squeezing almost painfully. Kami, Aizawa loves him so much, and Izuku couldn't feel luckier. Something about his expression must give some part of his emotions away because the man shifts up onto one elbow, the other hand reaching up to cup gently at Izuku's bandaged cheek and some part of the teen screams that this should hurt, should be triggering him, but it's not even close to anything negative. (No, the greenette feels like nothing can hurt him ever again, like logic and reality and trauma don't matter, because here is his hero, his Dad, and there's nothing that could possibly overcome that, nothing that could mean more to him than this person's love and comfort him more than his hero's presence.)  Regardless, once he's sure Izuku isn't flinching away from the touch, Aizawa leans forward, almost curling over his kid, protective rather than looming, and presses a lingering kiss to the teen's hairline, his own knotted hair enclosing them in a safe sort of darkness, just with enough light to make out each other's features but to feel secure and close."Love you kiddo. So much.""Love you too," Izuku murmurs, no hint of fear or hesitance for letting his words out. How could he be afraid here, now, when he's with his Dad like this?  A few hours later, when they've pulled apart, Izuku reading one of his favourite analyses books, his father attending to yet more work emails on his laptop, there comes a soft knock on the door and Shouto appears through the door first, a distinct smile on his face, eyes fierce and bright and soft in the moment he sees Izuku, and the greenette's attention is still caught on him when Hitoshi gets through and shuts the door."T-Toshi?""Hey Green bean."   The words are sticking in Izuku's throat again, cloying but not grating yet, so instead he just gestures vaguely at Hitoshi's head."We all match now!"  The insomniac sounds far too smug at that, all cat-like satisfaction, squinting eyes and all, but Izuku can only continue to stare at his boyfriends. There's a moment then, delicate as dewdrops on fern fronds, sweet and cool with the expectation of something new, and eventually it's Aizawa who speaks up,"I was going to dye my hair too, but I'll get enough greys in soon that it would be illogical." It takes a fraction of a second too long for Izuku to compute the words, still caught up in the sight of his boyfriends, and then he's laughing. The sound is vibrant and unrestrained and alluring, echoing through the room and ringing beautifully in his companions' ears, utterly perfect. It's cut off short though, because almost as soon as it starts, Izuku leaning into an arch of joy, head thrown back, he freezes up, tense and wary and terrified, curling into himself with submissive eyes and utter fear blatant in every line of his body, breathing too heavy, ragged. But he looks up enough to see the vestiges of delight on his Dad's and boyfriends' faces and it allows him to relax again almost as soon, offering them a tiny little smile. A sweet, exposed thing, soft as a kitten's underbelly. And just as vulnerable. Aizawa reaches over to ruffle his hair briefly, then shifts up and away to give Hitoshi and Shouto the room to move in and settle either side of their shorter boyfriend, that delight prompted by his laugh returning to them with the sight of his smile. Izuku, happiness solidifying into a steady grin, reaches up to brush a hand through the frosty ends of Hitoshi's hair, the white a charming contrast to the vivid, deep purple. Shouto, for his part, leans in closer to hover one hand over Izuku's hair, waiting for permission, and the teen tilts into the touch, enjoying when his boyfriend begins to twirl his fingers through the curls, examining the mix of white and green much like Izuku is doing for Hitoshi. It's simple affection, no words needed, and the three revel in it. In simply being sat together, somewhere safe and calm and without expectation. The hero is on the sofa, typing quietly on his computer, giving them time and space. Izuku, revelling in all of this, takes comfort in having so many of his precious people here at once, in feeling secure and treasured. A question is burning at him though, so he stops carding through Hitoshi's hair to instead reach under his pillow and dig out his phone from amongst the knives, notes app still open from talking to his Dad last night.[Have the class seen it yet?]"No," the insomniac replies, suspicion heavy in the dragged out syllable. Izuku only offers a small Cheshire grin and glinting eyes, already tugging Hitoshi to sit next to him properly, gesturing at Shouto to do the same from his other side. Then he passes the heterochromatic boy his phone, camera app open, with an eyebrow raised in silent question. Snickering at the fact that Hitoshi hasn't clocked what they're doing yet, Shouto takes the proffered phone, holds it up, and takes an only slightly blurry photo at the perfect moment for both Izuku's peace sign and Hitoshi's face to go from confusion to betrayal. He's still caught in betrayal when Izuku snatches his phone back and starts sending messages. And whilst Izuku has messaged the class chat a few times over the last couple of days, it was pretty overwhelming each time and he hadn't really known what to say. This time though? Well, this is easy. Knife-amonRoll: [Guess who lived, bitches?]
                          : [Also, look - we all match now!]

   Knife-amonRoll sent an image 
RaRaRaRa: [ohmigod Izuku!]TapityTape: [yo, yalls hair!]Bakubro'sBro: [thats so manly guys]PikaDont: [Izuku Izuku Izuku]KermitFiteMe: [Izuku-chan, it's very good to see you, kero] The teen can't help but smile a bit at the stream of messages that starts to come in, Hitoshi and Shouto leaning even further into him to read along too. ASSid: [damn, relationship goals!]DarknessReignDown: [A darkness upon my soul has lifted with the sight of your combined radiance.]Mom-o: [It's a relief to see you doing well Izuku. And very stylish, Shinsou.]LordExplosionMurder: [Fuckin' nerd you better be ready to fight me soon.]SometimesOctopus : [Hello Izuku. Do you know when you can have more visitors?]RaRaRaRa: [Yeh! We wanna see you in person too!]           And oh, for some reason that request surprises him a bit, because it's only been talked about when he wasn't directly involved in the situation, the others presumably not wanting to pressure him or something, so he hasn't really had to think about this yet. So, after a moment of assessing if he really wants to ask himself - if he can - Izuku taps briefly on Hitoshi's thigh, eyes wide and pleading. He needn't have looked so sweet and hopeful, because Hitoshi only grins at him, pauses to press a kiss to Izuku's temple, and then leans forward a little to be able to look at Aizawa properly,"Sensei, do you know if the rest of the class can visit Izuku?""Ah, about that - the hero ward's not good on allowing lots of visitors, but I reckon there'll be something I could get sorted if you want, kiddo?"  As he speaks, the man levers up to his feet, coming to settle by his son's feet, dark eyes already complex with thoughts and possibilities, debating what might be done to help his kid.  Izuku, in turn, grins, half at his Dad's response and half at the thought of seeing the rest of his friends in person. It might end up being too much, maybe, but he knows his Dadzawa will be there the whole time, will protect him from even his own classmates should he need it, and that's enough to convince and comfort him, nodding in response. The man waits, critical gaze taking in everything about Izuku's posture and expression. It's not a sign of distrust, the teen knows; his Dad isn't doubting him, nor unwilling to help him, his hero just needs to reassure himself that Izuku is sure about the decision. So the teen gives him time. Though he can barely resist the fierce urge to cackle when his boyfriends tense beside him, seeming to worry that his Dad is critical. Izuku knows better however, and he does give in to the snickers bubbling up in his chest, rocking in place to bump shoulders with both Hitoshi and Shouto respectively, prompting them to glance at him and register his laughter. After a second, they seem to realise why he's laughing, and the heterochromatic boy huffs to match Hitoshi's eyeroll, tacitly deciding to twist and drape themselves over the shorter teen, burying him carefully under their weight. Izuku only laughs harder, shoulders shaking from the combined force of the giggles and his partners leaning on him. He gets a glimpse of his Dad sporting a soft smile before his vision gets covered with a short curtain of red and white that smells like vanilla, the scent of eucalyptus creeping in too, and these are his boyfriends, his best friends, and he's so incredibly glad that he's with them again, that it's these two that he's surrounded by. Hitoshi and Shouto stay for lunch as well, giving both of the Aizawas bentos apparently made by Haruka-san as they eat together, talking quietly and if they both feed Izuku as much as he feeds himself, then it's only because of his bandaged hand, of course. One other thing before they can leave though, is taking them to meet the kids once again. Sure, they had been there when the children were rescued, had been with an Ectoplasm clone and Shouji to keep them calm and safe before they could be brought to the hospital, but it's far from the same as truly meeting them as Izuku's boyfriends rather than hero students there to rescue them. Which is why they're behind the two Aizawas, smiling at each other when they hear the happy cries,"Izu-pa!""Zawa-jii!""Aizawa-san, Aizawa-kun."  There's a man here apparently, and when Hitoshi and Shouto peer over Izuku's shoulder, they find him to be a burlier ginger man, probably around the same age as their teacher. What...? "Kubo-san. These are Shinsou Hitoshi and <PRESIDIO_ANONYMIZED_PERSON>, also part of the rescue effort for Setsuna and the others.""Right. Thanks for your work then. Appreciate it."  His tone isn't quite harsh nor dismissive, and the man's eyes keep shifting back to the little girl that's clearly his daughter, posture gentle, so neither of the teens hold his generally rougher wording against him. Plus, well, neither of them are social butterflies either."We only did what we could," Hitoshi returns, finding himself reaching for Shouto's hand as they turn their attention to the room at large. And find nine sets of eyes turned on them in turn."Hi there. Dunno if you remember us, but I'm Hitoshi and this is Shouto; we're Izuku's boyfriends." There's a hesitation then, because whilst they clearly all recognise the pair, they look to Izuku first. Who simply grins at them, bandage wrinkling, and steps away from his Dad to be instantly taken in by two sets of arms, his partners supporting him without thought, just like the man had been. All of the kids relax."Shou and Toshi?""That's correct," Shouto returns, a small smile settling amongst his otherwise blank features. His eyes, though, are warm, and they match Hitoshi's in that. They know, up to a point, what it's like to be hurt children, to have adults break your trust and your skin and your heart, and they most certainly know what it is to find something of a saviour in one Aizawa Izuku.  The kids, judging by how they abruptly light up, one by one then all at once, can see that kindred spirit too, can sense it in the lines of their faces and shadows of their eyes, in how carefully they cling to their shorter boyfriend, and everything suddenly seems so easy. Hitoshi and Shouto keep Izuku close as Aizawa shoves three beds together, and they listen carefully to each of the babies introducing themselves, committing the names to memory, then stay beside Izuku, taking some of his weight, as they pile onto the pushed-together beds. The greenette ends up in the middle, his Dad on his left and the two taller teens to the right, and then all of the children settle in too. At a gesture from Aizawa, Kubo-san comes to sit on the foot of the beds, his daughter in his lap, and the other kids all sprawl out in little groups, with a good five of them on top of the two Aizawas' legs, a gap-toothed Li bold enough to settle against the warm solidity where Izuku's shoulder is pressed to Shouto's, half in each of their laps.  "Why don't you kids read today instead?" Aizawa asks, which for some reason makes Izuku snicker, shooting the man a look that only has him rolling his eyes, but the blonde girl - Anna - nods with a smile and ignores their antics, asking Nabe to pass her one of the books in the pile as he's closest to it, and so the early afternoon progresses. Aizawa signs along to the story and it's clearly as much a lesson as anything else, because the kids constantly pause to request learning one of the new words, and Hitoshi and Shouto find themselves smiling properly as they help too. It's calm and pleasant, the whole room warm and relaxed, and when Setsuna's father has to leave an hour or so in, it's to a long hug from his daughter and a brief exchange of pleasantries with Aizawa, though clearly neither are overly fond of or apt at vague niceties. If he also nods to Izuku on the way out, then it's an added bonus.   It's not quite getting dark outside yet when the father and son find themselves back in Izuku's room, the teen hooked up to his IV once more, shoulders lax and smile small but thoughtless. Content. And then he prods his Dad as the man sits down beside him and deliberately flicks half of his hair in Izuku's face. That turns quickly into a prodding war, and then the greenette manages to catch that one ticklish spot just above his Dad's hip and the man jolts in place, trying to force his grin into a scowl,
  "You, kid, are a right brat."
 
  And it takes a second, but Izuku freezes, his breath stuttering and Aizawa is immediately tense. And when Izuku’s teeth bury themselves in his abused bottom lip, and his breathing hitches and stutters, the hero is quick to lean forwards, making sure not to loom, and oh-so gently tugs the bleeding lip free with a careful thumb, even as he begins to talk the kid through the encroaching panic attack.
"Hey kiddo, don't be doing that, gentle on yourself for me, yeh? I'm sorry kid, I won't call you that if you don't want me to, alright, I'm sorry love, c'mon kiddo, you're alright, we're safe, be careful with yourself, it's fine. Kid, Izuku, love, you're safe, we're together."  
  How dare Shigaraki taint one of his nicknames for his son? How fucking dare that monster ruin a part of their relationship, no matter how small?
 But Aizawa pushes his absolute fury down and instead keeps up his reassurances, left hand gently grasping Izuku's unbandaged one and pressing it against his own chest, holding it there until fingers twist into his shirt and he moves his own grip to instead curl against the side of Izuku's head, more than relieved when the teen lists into the touch, those glazed green eyes brightening even as they slip closed, the kid sagging into his Dad's affection, slumping forwards into his chest at the same time, pressing his freckled forehead beside his own palm, revelling in the heartbeat there. Aizawa, for his part, brings his other arm around his son's shoulders, holds him tucked in close, and keeps up his meaningless croons, barely even conscious that he's already replaced 'brat' with 'love' and that the latter is ridiculously sweet, because all he can think about is how his kid has changed, been forced to change and sure he's the same brilliant, bubbly teenager and the same analytical, fierce hero, but he's also even more traumatised than before. More hurt. And dammit he really needs to get them both into therapy. And the rest of the class. And the kids and probably Tsukauchi, Hizashi and Nemuri too- A whine cuts through his thoughts, prompting the hero to instantly focus all of his attention back on the teen curled into him, and Aizawa registers that the sound wasn't desperate, only pleading. So he shifts his left hand to card through white and green curls instead of simply resting amongst them, scratching lightly at Izuku's scalp and delicately working out any knots he finds."Want a knife kiddo? Would that help?"  Usually it would, he knows, but he's managed to trigger his son not even ten minutes ago (and fuck, he knows there's no chance he could've guessed but causing his kid this pain is stabbing at him, twisting and sharp and agonising, because he did this, he hurt his son, and nothing can take that away) so he doesn't want to risk adding to it. Which is probably why it's such a relief for him to get a nod rubbed over his collarbone, and he stops brushing through curls for just long enough to drag one of Izuku's knives from under his pillows. Then pauses. "Let's shift around a bit kiddo, hey? Get more comfortable."  He doesn't quite hurry to move them but soon enough he's sat up against the headboard again with Izuku curled properly in his lap, right shoulder against his ribs, head pillowed on capture weapon, and then he presses the knife into his son's hand, glad when the kid instantly latches onto it, grip tight on the leather hilt. Luckily it's not quite white-knuckled. Aizawa will take that, honestly, because it's reassuring in itself. He does want Izuku to find comfort where he can, and knives have been something that provide that for a long time, and to know that this fact hasn't changed is delightful. So he tugs out more from the bit of the pillows not squashed under himself and then they have five knives between them, a few on the blankets as they tap blades and feel out weights, flip knives between each other, tiny throws and catches that eventually culminate in Izuku grinning as the two manage to start a silly little bit of juggling between them. Their juggling peters out eventually, as the two end up drifting further into drowsiness. They're still fiddling with the knives though, the dim room brighter only thanks to the yellow-gold cat light, when Hizashi and Nemuri walk into the room later that evening."Hey, there's my favourite Listeners!" The blond's greeting is blessedly subdued, but no less sincere for it, and he's greeted with two pairs of sleepy eyes blinking up at him. Izuku's soft smile returns to a grin, wobbly with incoherency though it may be. He's exhausted, between lots of social interaction and the edges of a panic attack earlier, but there's enough enthusiasm there still to comfort his Auntie and Uncle."Hello darlings," Midnight purrs, even as she leans down to flick Aizawa's nose and kiss Izuku's forehead in the same motion, barely retracting her hand quickly enough to stop her friend from biting her fingertips, wagging her finger at him before snorting at the realisation that, yet again, she left a lipstick mark over the pretty freckles. "Really Nem, as though you haven't left enough smears of lipsticks on this poor kid?""Oh hush you old grump. Here kiddie," she grins, smile wicked-sharp, and snatches up an end of capture weapon and tries to use it to wipe away the lipstick. The fabric-alloy bucks in her grip though, and another part flicks up to slap her wrist. Literally. She pouts, retreating, and Aizawa snickers, even as he reaches for some tissues off of the bedside table to get the red mark off for his son's sake. Izuku grumbles a bit himself, half-heartedly kicking out at his Uncle Nem, but he stays happily curled up with his Dad, head pillowed on his hero's shoulder. "Lo," the teen manages, and is rewarded by bright grins, Hizashi bouncing on the balls of his feet, even as Nemuri goes back to the door to turn the room's proper lights on, calling out a jaunty warning as she flicks the switch. Izuku whines, half-playful, burying his face back in the capture weapon. Meanwhile, the new arrivals end up dragging chairs over again, the man rocking back to kick his boots off and put his vibrantly-socked feet up on the edge of Izuku's bed, and they all settle into casual conversation, carried more by Hizashi and Nemuri, but it's comfortable and light. Easy. Enough so that Izuku finds himself lulled into sleep, soft and sweet with clouds tinged the same tone as Hitoshi's eyes, holding the same warmth as Shouto's left side, and the hope of nine children, all wrapped up in the rough-soft-worn of capture weapon, with a smooth knife hilt in hand and callused fingers in his curls, the chatter of his Auntie and Uncle bubbling distantly in his ears. He has sweet dreams that night.  
  
  

    
      
        
        
          Damn, Zawa and Izu are just so vulnerable with each other? They're each other's safe space and I just- I love writing these two so much. It hit me when Izu woke up with his face buried against his Dad's throat because when you consider their instincts and the amount of times they have been strangled or punched or simply had people go for their most vulnerable places to kill them, letting someone dig their nose or knees into those spots is an incredible kind of trust. Truly incredible. The kids' parents visit where and when they can. Setsuna's Dad (Kubo-san) has fairly long lunch breaks because he starts work early in the morning, so he's promised to visit her every lunch time he can, particularly as the hospital is only a ten minute bus ride from his workplace (also I kind of think he might be something in construction - not an architect per se, maybe something more like a general project manager, but it's just the vibe I get, you know? Although it doesn't actually matter at all).Lots of love to you all as always~   Hope you're having a good week and enjoying good food, good sleep and good mental health! Hugs, Ota. Xxx'
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