Chapter Text
Alastor Hartfelt was a good kid. Or that’s what he thought at least. Or rather, that what he was constantly told by his loving mother, day after day.
When she brought him to this cruel world, she promised that she would love him regardless of if he had a Quirk or not. Which is a promise she has stayed true to from the moment she lay her eyes on him. And he wouldn't have it any other way. His mother is the best thing that ever happened to him.
Even though he ended up Quirkless, he honestly didn’t care. Personally, all that Hero stuff never really intrigued him in the first place. To him, all these so-called heroes were nothing more than a bunch of clowns. Clowns performing for their audience in a Circus for attention and acknowledgement. Alastor didn’t trust them one bit. In fact, he remembered being saved by that ‘’Number #2 Hero’’ called Endevor. Of course he shrugged it off and didn’t even thank the old man, which annoyed the hell out of him, much to Alastor’s delight.
Although, there were two Heroes that he actually liked, quite a bit.
All Might. The Number #1 Hero.
He has never met the Hero, but from all the footage he has seen, All Might was by far not only the strongest, but also the most…real, you could say. When he saved people, he meant it, plus he always had giant smile on his face, bearing a philosophy very similar to the one that his mother had told him.
When it feels like all the world is wearing a frown, to put a smile on and spread it around.
Which is what inspired him to always have a smile plastered across his lips, no matter what happens. No matter what…
The second one was the infamous Stain. Yes, technically he wasn’t a Hero, but in Alastor’s eyes, he might as well be one.
What he did was go out and kill any Heroes who he deemed undeserving or fakes. So-called Heroes who only do it for the money and fame, not for actually saving lives and being a symbol of hope. And he admired him, maybe even more than All Might.
In his eyes, Stain was taking out dishonest performers. Frauds. But if he was honest…the very concept of Heroes and Villains was incredibly foolish.
Both sides were nothing more than a bunch of children paying dress up and pretending to be something they’re clearly not. The only reason he liked All Might as a “Hero” was because he was honest.
80% of their civilization were given gifts from whoever created this miserable world, and they’ve wasted them by playing hero versus villain, and fighting amongst each other like children instead of bettering their society and truly bringing out the potential in such gifts.
Heroes. Villains.
Such barbaric titles.
Coming out of his inner thoughts, we see a fifteen year old Alastor walking down the street. The boy had olive skin, curly dark brown hair, and brown eyes. He wore a white dress shirt, a red-striped waistcoat with small gold buttons, a red tie with a gold necktie clip, brownish-black pants, and white dress-shoes with black tips and heels. Additionally, he wore a pair of small, black-framed oval-shaped glasses. He was also holding a box full of cookies on his right hand, while holding an all-new microphone on his other.
Alastor took a look at his microphone with pride.
His dream of becoming a Radio Host was getting all the more closer, and him buying a microphone like that was enough for now. He couldn’t wait to go back home and show it to his mother, along with giving her the cookies he bought, specifically for her. Although he has to worry if his father is there.
Last time he brought his mother food, he didn’t take it so well…
Nevertheless, he walked on and ignored these thoughts. He didn’t give a fuck that his so-called father would be there, he would give his mother the cookies no matter what that overgrown ape had to say, and if he touched even a strand form his mother’s hair, by God he would-!
``P-please, Kacchan, d-d-don’t…``
``SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU DAMN NERD!!!``
Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, as he heard both voices. The teen follows the voices and looks on as he sees…
A green haired boy, who was wearing a black outfit was on the ground with another yellow haired boy looming over him with a shit eating grin. Both boys were around his age from what he could gather, and the green haired one was clearly being bullied.
``When will you get it through your thick skull? You will NEVER be a Hero! You’re nothing more than a piece of garbage.`` the yellow haired one screamed at the terrified boy’s face as he lifted his hand, producing a sort of…fire?
``B-but, Kacchan…``
Alastor continued to watch on with frustration. Now he understood. That boy was Quirkless, just like him, and that other kid was bullying him because of that.
Insufferable bastard…
Usually he wouldn't get himself involved in such pathetic intercourses between other kids of his age, as he felt that was beneath him. But in this case, he felt complied to do at least something! It was his father all over again…
He was about to step forward, but…he stopped.
As much as he hated it, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He didn’t have a Quirk, and if he tried to intervene that Kacchan person would burn him alive. He felt so powerless once again.
``Stupid Deku! Don’t waste my time again, in a few days the UA Exams are starting and I’m planning to get in and become a Hero. So don’t you dare annoy me again!``
With that, the so-called Hero, began to walk away, with the green-haired boy being left on the ground as he was on the verge of crying.
Alastor clenched his fists and then took a sigh, before he started approaching the kid.
The kid was snorting and buried himself in his own tears, before he saw Alastor loom over him with a wide-spread smile, not to dissimilar from his hero, All Might.
``Hello there, my dear.`` he said.
``H-hi…``
``Now, now…`` Alastor then kneeled down to the boy’s level as he used his finger to wipe away the tears from his face ``What is your name, fellow companion?``
``I-Izuku…Izuku Midoriya. W-what’s y-yours?``
Alastor then quickly got up, grabbing Izuku by the hand as he lifted him up, then shaking him immensely.
``Oh, where are my manners! Name’s Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!``
``O-o-o-okay!`` the boy frantically said.
``Now, I can assume that wretched fool was making fun of you for your lack of Quirk, yes?``
Izuku slowly nods in shame ``Y-yeah…it’s because I don’t have a Quirk, and I want to become a Hero. But he says it’s impossible.``
Alastor then begins to laugh, first rather quietly and then that quiet laugh turns into a loud and prideful one, which disturbs Izuku who flinches back a bit. He almost sounded like a villain.
``HAHAHA!!! Is that what he says?`` Alastor asks ``How painfully…dull and boring!``
Alastor then turned around, looking at the sky above him ``He only says that because he is afraid of what you have the potential to become. The potential to become a better Hero than even him.``
The boy then turns around and lightly smacks Izuku on the head with his microphone.
``He is nothing more than a scared dog, a predator ready to squash any potential competition before it even begins! A smart tactic indeed, which is why you need to up your game my little friend.``
``B-but, why would Kacchan be afraid of me? I have no Quirk-``
``That doesn’t matter my dear! In fact, I don’t have a Quirk as well.``
``R-really…?``
``Yes. And even though I do not desire to be a Hero myself, I intend to change the world in my own way, by becoming a host for my very own Radio Broadcast!``
``Radio…?`` Izuku was rather confused. Sure, Radio Broadcasts haven’t decline in popularity or anything, but changing the world by becoming a Radio Broadcaster did seem a bit weird…as weird as being a Hero without a Quirk, so he didn’t judge.
``Why yes, radio! After all, the world is a stage, and a stage is a world of entertainment.``
``Entertainment…? But, t-that kinda sounds like a villa-``
``A VILLAIN?! OH HA HA HA HA!!!`` Alastor says as he lets out a thunderous laugh.
``Oh, no, you have mistaken me. I am not a villain. Why would I want to go around killing people, ripping them apart and drinking their blood like some sort of…monster?`` he said with an unsettling laugh.
Izuku gulped.
Alastor said that with a little too enthusiasm.
``No, no. like I said, I don’t want to be either Hero or Villain. I’ll change the world my way. And so do you, and keep up a smile.``
``A…smile?``
Alastor then steps closer and grabs Izuku’s chin ``Why, yes! A smile is a valuable tool my dear.`` he then brings his fingers to Izuku’s lips and uses them to turn his frown to a smile before he lets the boy.
``It inspires your friends. Keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you are the one in control.``
``S-so, you’re telling me to keep smiling even if, I don’t feel like it?``
``Precisely, my dear. It’ll even show that Kacchan dog that his little outbursts do not affect you. Then he’ll be even more mad! HAHAHA!!``
Izuku flinched before thinking about it again. what Alastor was telling him, it did make sense…
Why was he always smiling?
``Now, what will you do, little Midoriya? Will you give up and let that dog win? Hm?``
Izuku clenched his fist and looked up at Alastor with a determined expression.
``N-no! I won’t…or at least, I will try. Kacchan had been my best friend for all my life. But since he got his Quirk, he started bullying me.``
Alastor grits his teeth.
``Ah, now I understand. Once he got a taste of true power, he decided he longer needed his old companions. How predictable.``
Alastor then came closer and pooped Izuku’s nose ``Just remember what I said and you’ll be fine.``
Izuku nodded at the stranger ``T-thank you, Alastor.``
The teen smirked and theatrically turned around with a spin, tapping his caine on the ground.
``Very well then. I shall be gone. Good luck, my dear chum.``
With that, Alastor began walking away, humming an old 1920’s tune, leaving behind a confused, but hopeful Izuku Midoriya.
Back with Alastor, the child was walking his way across the streets, thinking about what happened between him and that other boy.
Why did he do that?
He had no reason to inspire and comfort him, much less even pay attention to that scared brat. He had his own problems already. His family’s poverty and having to rely on that failure of a father. And yet…
He cared.
Eh, whatever. His subconscious probably just felt pity for the brat, it wasn’t anything to write home about. Or maybe he related to him, Quirkless and all.
``My, my. I can be so foolish sometimes.`` he whispered to himself.
After a few minutes of walking around, Alastor finally made it home. It was in a rather shitty looking neighbourhood. How much he hated it here.
He stood outside the door for seconds on end. He took a deep breath, finally taking the courage to open it.
``Hello, dear mother! How was your-``
Thud!
Alastor’s heart sank as his microphone and fresh cookies fell to the ground.
His eyes painfully snapped down, to the cold floor below him.
There she was.
His mother…
Dead.
Alastor watched her lifeless eyes, no pupils, just…emptiness.
From her head, blood was escaping from every corner of her skull. And the cause of it was a-
Glass. More specifically Alcohol. Alastor would recognized that scent from anywhere.
He turns his head around, only to see his father, that miserable collection of bones and flesh, on the ground, limpering on the table like a fool.
Alastor’s gaze then shifted to the wall. To his father’s axe that was hanged in the wall, in the middle of a bunch of head of deer. These were trophies that bastard had collected.
Alastor smiled.
But this smile was…different. It went all the way to his ears, the kid slowly losing his mind, but no.
He wouldn't let that happen yet. There were matters to take care of, first.
Alastor took the axe and slowly went to his father.
The old man was still drinking from his bottle of Alcohol.
He heard footsteps.
He tried to turn around, but it was too late.
Slash!
The corpse of the father of Alastor Hartfelt dropped to the ground.
The axe was shoved right in his skull.
Alastor looked on for a few seconds.
He looked at his hands. Covered in blood.
``Hehe…``
He cupped his face with his bloody palms.
``Heheheh…HAHAHAHA!!!!``
He tilts his head back and fills the house in psychotic laughter.
``GAUHAHAHA!!! YOU WERE RIGHT, YOU WERE SO RIGHT!!!``
Alastor painfully took the axe out of his father’s corpse ``All this time, I was holding myself back, the real solution was KILLING YOU ALL ALONG!!``
He then starting hitting his father with the axe.
Over, and over, again.
Blood was all over his face.
This continued for the next hour.
After making his father’s corpse unrecognizable, Alastor finally regained his sense. Somewhat.
He knew he needed to act. If someone found out what he did, they would take him in for sure.
First thing he did was take care of his mother. It was…painful, but necessary. He said his last goodbyes before he burned her body in the back of the house. It pained him, but it was the right thing to do. There was no way he could bury her conventionally.
What would he do now?
He sat on his father’s chair, covered in blood and contemplating.
When he was a child he used to read a lot of books about and Voodoo and methods of summoning the ones beyond the grave.
The teen smirked.
That’s exactly what he would.
A few days later, Alastor’s house is covered in blood. Ancient symbols and artefacts that Alastor bought with all the money he had.
On the ice cold floor, he drew upon a Pentagram symbol from the blood of his father’s corpse. And in front, there were sticks hung from the ceiling and tied together in voodoo symbols, then a radio with a skull-like pattern on a rose, stick, and bone adorned table.
``Tu es prêt à manger~`` he said, as he licked the blood off his hand.
``I call upon you, voices of the Afterlife…`` he then gets up ``I wish to make a DEAL WITH YOU!!``
Suddenly, the radio starts glowing, as two yellow hands of energy come out of it. The hands of an ancient Demon from Hell iself.
``Why have you called me here, human child? To give, to curse?``
The glowing hand went to touch Alastor, but the teen pushed it away gently.
``Allow me to cut to the chase.`` he got up and went over, kicking the cut off head of his deceased father.
``Through recent events, I have realized that this world is rotten and needs someone powerful, intelligent and willing to sacrifice anything to fix it.``
The Demon hummed with interest.
``I want to have MY FUN, AND CLEANSE THIS WORLD OF EVIL! In my way, of course…``
Hell’s ancient laughed intensely.
``Wow. That's a new one. I must say, a soul like yours is unlike any I've seen.``
Her yellow hand trims around the child, as his shadow morphs and gains conscious of its own.
``I can grant you power. Power beyond what your mortal mind can imagine. The strongest amongst those of your age who posses these Quirks, and even powerful enough to stand toe to toe with the likes of these so-called Pro-Heroes. But…``
Her yellow hand then grabbed Alastor’s newly alive shadow ``You must do something for me. And until you complete this task, your soul will be mine. And you will be able to communicate with me through your mind and perform anything I ask you of until you can complete such task that I ask of you.``
Alastor however smiled widely, ignoring any potential consequences this might have in the future.
``It’s a deal!``
Alastor then shakes hands with the Demon, as green electricity and voodoo symbols erupted from the hand shake.
Alastor’s microphone is lifted up to the air by the Demons, as she imbues it with Dark magic, as it turns to a red staff with an eyeball in the middle of it.
The teen also feels this magic. He feels his body becoming connected to the newly amplified staff.
Raw, dark power.
The staff falls to his hands.
He stares at it and looks back at the Demon.
``My name is Rosie.``
Alastor smirks and bows.
``Alastor. Alastor Hartfelt. I have the feeling this will be the beginning of a wonderful partnership.``