In Your Turn to Shine the gang is shown to be capable of building an entire mansion out of sticks and stuff, so the twelve of them should either organize a family contracting business, or make a tacky reality show about island existence. Imagine the stupid antics they could get up to and the cut-in asides of them scheming or ranting about each other. They stop making an attempt to escape and turn the survival sim into Keeping Up with the Candidates.
What do you mean disabled people can’t be superheroes/secret agents/super spies? Mate as soon as I’m in that wheelchair in public I’m bloody invisible I could get away with whatever the heck I want people actively avoid looking at me why is no one using this in their stories
This is a piece of an au of mine related to this drawing where Ardyn becomes a Knight of Etro rather than Besithia’s lab assistant and eventual chancellor (and therefore avoids a lot of problems for himself and everyone else)
Ardyn: Etroverse au
Nobody saw him coming.
Between the confusion and the chaos, that was somewhat logical, but Regis still couldn’t help the instinctive thought that the stranger had warped into the road.
Had he come to help? To save them? Or was he an enemy?
Regis dragged himself forward. Noctis was up there, alone with the marilith. Alone. He’d heard the nursemaid scream. He knew death when he heard it. He already had his Armiger ready, preparing to warp, when the stranger beat him to it.
“Odin!” shouted the raggedy, flamboyant figure, “Give me a boost, won’t you?”
Odin?! Regis felt his mouth drop open as the ancient messenger of the Astrals was suddenly just there. Not that he materialized, or stepped out of some fold in space; he was simply there where he had not been before.
The horned warrior lifted the raggedy man, and Regis glimpsed armor beneath the long coat. Odin launched the man at the marilith, and the man plunged a gleaming red blade into the daemon.
“Best get your little princeling to a doctor, young man,” the warrior called nonchalantly, even as he ducked so that Odin could jab at the daemon with a monstrous spear. “I don’t like the look of those wounds. I’d heal him myself but- Oopsie-daisies!”
He dodged so quickly that his hat was left behind, then just as rapidly reached back to snatch it back to his head.
“As you can see, I’ve just the teensiest bit of a full schedule at the moment.”
Regis gathered his son into his arms. He’s too still- he’s much too still! Please, please, I can’t lose him too! He gritted his teeth.
“Hold on, son,” he whispered, “Just hold on.”
Seconds before warping away, he looked up at their rescuer.
“Who are you?”
Not that he truly expected an answer when the man was in the midst of a life and death struggle.
“Oh,” the man made a slightly bitter laugh. “Just a man of no consequence.”
This is a snippet of my King and Coven fairytale which, hopefully, I’ll actually have time to work on this year lol.The context is that there have been a rash of strange illnesses and deaths in the settlement of Trader’s Gate, and the king has gone to investigate. The investigation is about to be interrupted.
“Rumpus! Come back!”
Chasing after the dog was a small boy, only barely dressed for the winter. He slipped on a patch of ice and went crashing to the ground. The puppy skidded to a halt and cocked its head. It dashed back to the boy with an excited yip and bounced around him before prancing back to the Shieldguards. Lucien bent down to scratch the puppy’s ears.
“Well some guard dog you are,” he scolded, “Leaving your master in the snow like that!”
The little boy picked himself up and brushed as much of the muddy slush off of his tunic as he could. “Yeah…she’s not very good at listening yet.”
Dantes hopped down from the loading dock and crouched in front of the boy. “Ah well. She’s a puppy, she’ll learn. That was quite a tumble! You all right there, son?”
“Yep!” the boy smiled up at the king. “I didn’t hit my head or anything. And I didn’t even cry!”
“Oh? You’re a tough customer, huh?” Dantes teased kindly. “Well I’m glad you’re not hurt. You shouldn’t run when it’s icy. Especially not in cloth shoes.”
“Iknow,” pouted the child, “But Matron Dora didn’t get enough donations for everybody to have boots this year.”
There was only one Almoner’s House in Trader’s Gate. As the settlement was not, officially, a city, it did not have the same funding as Ainselv. The Almoner’s House relied heavily upon donations to take care of those without homes.
“Oh?” Dantes blinked. “I’m sorry to hear that!”
The king turned back to his party and waved Birgit over. “Birgit, while I go over the report, would you visit the Almoner’s House for me? See what they need. I’m authorizing you to requisition supplies from Crown outposts if need be.”
Birgit bit her lip and glanced back at the lake. What she really wanted was to stay and hear the reports of the glowing waters. But Dantes was not one to put off welfare matters until later.
“Of course, your majesty.” Birgit wrapped her cloak more securely around her shoulders and didn’t let her disappointment show until she was out of sight. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, of course, but Birgit rather wished he could have timed his interruption just a little later.
The boy tiptoed to look over Dantes’s shoulder at the Royal Investigation Militia and Civilian Protection Dept. They were all clustered around a table covered in the latest catch of strange fish.
“Are you here ‘cause of the monsters in the water?” he asked.
“They aren’t monsters, kid,” chided Sheriff Tan.
“Well they sure aren’t fish!” the little boy retorted. “I 'member, this is just like lasttime when everybody got sick!”
Sheriff Tan sighed. “Kid, this is an official investigation. You need to run along home now.”
“But I just had to catch Rumpus,” argued the child, “What if she falls in the lake and gets eaten?”
Lucien and Dantes exchanged glances. They hadn’t had an opportunity yet to interview the people living in Trader’s Gate or Ainselv about the alleged creature contaminating the water. While they knew that children were prone to exaggeration, it couldn’t hurt to get the boy’s perspective.
“Here,” Dantes said, “How about this: let’s get you a collar and a leash for little Rumpus, eh? That way you won’t have to worry so much about her.”
“But I don’t got any money!”
Lucien laughed. “Oh trust me, kid, that won’t be an issue.” Privately, the captain – and even some of Dantes’s advisory council – felt that the king’s bleeding heart was going to get him into trouble someday. Sooner or later, it was likely that someone would try to take advantage of his generosity. But the king was a grown man, and he could make his own decisions, so Lucien let it be.
“Now,” the king said brightly, “We’ve been introduced to Miss Rumpus, but what about you? What’s your name, son?”
“I’m Zekiel,” said the boy. A moment later he shyly added, “Your…m- majesty?”
“Pleased to meet you, young master Zekiel!” Dantes rose and brushed slush from his knees. “You can call me Mr. Dantes if it’s easier.”
“Dan! That’s not proper respectful!” Lucien hissed to him.
“Well neither am I, according to the Queen of Tangle!” Dantes whispered back jokingly. He held out a hand for Zekiel. “Shall we?”
Without a second thought, Zekiel slipped his hand into Dante’s. It would not have occurred to him to be wary of strangers. Trader’s Gate was so small that most everyone knew at least each other’s names. And the Royal Investigation Militia was known for being a trustworthy partner to the Civilian Protection Department. What was a king but a RIM officer with a fancier hat, anyway?
Dantes let the little boy lead him to Trader’s Gate’s main street. The king had been there several times over the years, but he let his small guide show him around as if he were visiting for the first time. Zekiel was particularly excited to show him the bakery. The baker had recently made enough money to purchase and install a large, plate-glass window. Apparently it was the talk of the town.
Or at least, it had been, before the water started glowing and people started getting sick.
Every Autobot since the end of the War had heard stories of Megatron. Tyrant, warlord, city-killer, some even called him the emissary of Unicron himself – but that only when they were certain no member of the Council or Elite Guard could hear, for to speak of Unicron was to imply the existence of Primus, and to believe in Primus was to imply that there was a higher power than the Magnus. The Council tended to frown on that.
Optimus tried to squirm out of the grip of the giant who’d pulled him out of the Ark, but Lugnut merely laughed off his attempts. The Decepticons, with the exception of two insectoids lingering near the back, were all well over twice the age of any of Optimus’s crew. In fact, it seemed likely that some were as old as Ratchet, and had probably fought in the War.
Speaking of the War…
Lugnut hauled Optimus to what he guessed was the bridge of the nightmare ship, where the harsh light of some kind of stellar phenomenon made it hard to make out the figure framed against the viewports. Nevertheless, the young Prime guessed who it was when Lugnut knelt, dragging Optimus down with him. Peripherally, Optimus could see the Decepticons who had captured Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Ratchet doing the same. Allspark only knew where Prowl was.
“My lord Megatron,” Lugnut announced in a drawing room bellow, “We bring you the spies, caught trespassing in your territory!”
“Spies?!” For a moment, Optimus let indignation outweigh a very healthy fear. “Now hold on just a nanoklik, we’re not spies! We didn’t even know anyone was out here!”
Dimly it occurred to him that a barely ranking Prime that the Council was doing its best to forget – thank you, Sentinel, for that – had no business addressing a supposedly extinct villain of legend, but it was too late now.
“Spies?” The word was repeated slowly in a low, rasping hiss that brought to mind steel sliding from a scabbard. Megatron turned and burning optics searched Optimus’s for a moment. The red lights narrowed in evident disgust. “These are talking infants, Lugnut. No more than a few vorns behind them at best. Have the Autobots grown desperate, or have they grown lazy?”
“Probably both?” The triple-changer remarked, then wisely clammed up when Megatron fixed him with a withering look.
The half-mythical Decepticon lord moved away from the viewport and stood over Lugnut and Optimus, who had to crane his neck to look into the mech’s optics. Despite the fact that he was more frightened now than he’d been in a long time, Optimus somehow felt that he could not afford to look away. He could barely make out Megatron’s facial features now, and blinked as they rapidly cycled from disgusted boredom to surprise to rage.
Megatron seized Optimus by the neck and tore him from Lugnut’s grasp.
“Who formatted you?” he demanded, “What is your designation?”
For a moment, the smaller mech’s vocoder failed him, and he stuttered in panic before managing to gasp out, “My name is Optimus Prime, and nobody formatted me! The protoform molded to my spark like this!” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend his appearance to a Decepticon who was probably going to kill him, but the flare of irritation was a welcome distraction from terror.
Megatron whirled around and stalked back to the viewport, with the Autobot still dangling helplessly from his grip. “Helm, take us two degrees starboard and raise shields,” he growled. “Take us into the storm.”
(You can find the full version of the ficlet here)
There’s a reason I’m reblogging this for my Transformers Tuesday: a similarly themed snippet will be showing up later today. It felt thematically appropriate to start with my original “Decepticons think Optimus and his gang are a bunch of feral kindergarteners” au
“Lighthouse, be advised: if my hair goes prematurely gray, it’s gonna be because of this darn fool teenager.”
Sig hoisted himself up over a crate and ground his teeth together. “And when we get home, for the record, I recommend installing safety rails or baby gates on anything you don’t want the kids climbing up or hoverboarding off of. Because if Jakdoes it – and he will – Mar is gonna copy him.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Damas responded with goodnatured dismay, “But what has Jak done thistime?”
“Whathasn’the done?” Sig fumed. He ducked a spinning drill the size of his arm and dodged a saw blade that swung up out of the mining platform. “He hears about a metalhead nest at the strip mine and what’s his solution? Go monkey around on the shipping crates until he can loosen one enough to drop onto the egg cluster!”
“While he’s still standing on it?!” Damas sputtered.
“That’s it. That’s his plan. If I had any doubts about whose son he was before,” Sig said with a huff, “I don’t now.”
“Wellthat was a little uncalled-for,” the king grumbled, but noticeably he didn’t correct Sig.
He knew well and good that he had been a reckless teenager once.
It didn’t take long for reports like this to become a regular thing for Sig and Damas. Often, multiple reports came in on the same day, making Damas wonder if Jak ever slept.
“Lighthouse, do you have any qualms about sharing custody with a Lurker tribe? Because the boys just went and got themselves inducted in as honorary members.”
“Lighthouse, I am this close to slapping a Sage. The Baron’s got some kind of doomsday plot in mind, and instead of mobilizing the troops, the old fart just told Jak to handle it "no matter how”. I’ll be backup, of course, but would it kill these people to stop delegating all their missions to the kid?“
"Lighthouse, do not let this child near Kleiver and the garage until he’s done a driving test. I just watched him hijack a Hellcat and immediately drive it straight into a wall. He thought it was gonna handle like a zoomer. A zoomer!”
“Lighthouse, I can’t wait until you get to go on the range with Jak. You two are gonna have a blast fightin’ over that high score. He mightjust beat one of your top five records!”
The longer reports were usually full of descriptive retellings of events, or humorous complaints about Jak’s penchant for mayhem. Damas liked getting to know the boy in this round-about sort of way; it gave him something to talk about with him on his few visits thus far. The longer the report, the more questions he could think of for later.
By contrast, the one that utterly chilled Damas’s blood was short, and to the point.
“Lighthouse…have you ever heard of the Dark Warrior Project?”
The folders Sig smuggled to him during his next “vacation” were the work of a depraved mind. Damas had spent several sleepless nights learning the true depths of the suffering Praxis had inflicted on his son – his elderson, at least. Although Damas had no doubt that Mar would have met the exact same fate if Praxis had gotten his hands on him. And he suspected that Jak had known that too, even when he’d first met the child. The way Jak hovered over Mar whenever he was back in Spargus, the way he fought in both the ring and in Haven-
Jak wasn’t fighting solely for revenge anymore. He was fighting to ensure that the little boy who so looked up to him would neverendure the hell he had survived. And in Jak’s mind, as long as Praxis and Errol lived, Mar was in at least some danger. So Jak had redoubled his efforts to wipe the usurper and his pet torturer out once and for all.
If he was able to pull it off, if he didend them with his own hands, Damas wondered if his council would approve it as grounds for receiving his next battle amulet.
Damas set the folder and receiver down and drew a hand over his face. Spargus didn’t have the numbers to risk open war with Praxis – especially not with the Metalheads posing such a threat. The most help he could offer Jak would be scouts and infiltrators, working to destabilize those in power. Sig was doing a good job of balancing both helping the Underground and quietly sabotaging Krewe, much as Kleiver had done years ago, before Mar was born. But he was only one man, and Haven was a large city. If more citizens would actually take up arms, it would be easier-!
A faint scuff of skin against stone caught his attention, and Damas slid his hand down an inch to peer out over his fingers. Mar stood centimeters away, mimicking him. When Damas shifted his arm to lean his cheek on his fist, Mar did the same. The king smiled despite himself, and Mar swiftly mirrored his expression.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Damas asked. He reached out to brush a hand through the child’s unruly curls. They were almost long enough to braid now.
Mar took advantage of his outstretched arm to use as leverage and climbed up onto his father’s knee. He let out a big, gusty sigh and pouted.
“When is Jak coming back?” he asked.
Damas slid the folder on the Dark Warrior Project out of Mar’s reach and frowned. “It’s hard to know, son. Jak is…” he tilted his head back in thought. “Your brother is trying to help a lot of people right now. But he’s just one person. He can’t do everything at once.”
Mar’s frown deepened. “How come Jak and Daxter get all the scary chores from the scribbly man-” he had meant Torn, but having never learned to sign the word “tattoo”, the little boy instead indicated coloring on his face. “He yells and drinks the stinky bottle whenever Jak does chores.”
Damas blinked. “The stinky bottle-? Oh. Oh.Er…”
He wasn’t sure how to explain it to Mar, but after two weeks of Sig’s reports on Jak’s movements, he could sort of guess why the Underground leader was drinking.
Havenites didn’t have much of a reckoning for what would be a surprisingly normal Spargan adolescent. And that was withoutthat pesky little addition of the House of Mar’s tendency to channel eco in bizarre ways.
“Well,” Damas finally said, “Sig is there to help Jak with his…chores, and so is his orange rat friend. They’re very busy, but I’m sure they’ll visit when they need a rest.”
Mar snuggled against his chest with a faint hum of disapproval. “Daxter’s not a rat, Daddy. Daxter’s human,” he signed with a long-suffering look.
Damas eyed his son skeptically. “Mar, he’s covered in orange fur, and he’s two feet tall.”
“He used to be human! Jak said he fell in the angry eco and he grew a lot of a lot of a lot of hair and got tiny!” Mar nodded his head furiously in agreement with his own words. “I’m never gonna play with angry eco! I wanna get tall like you!”
“Angry…eco…?” Damas echoed in confusion. What was-?
“Dark eco? Are you talking about dark eco?”
Mar nodded again. “Yeah, the angry eco. It makes Big Brother go all white and grumpy. He doesn’t get little and fluffy. How come Jak doesn’t get little and fluffy?”
Damas shot a glance at the horrible file on the table. “Er…Jak didn’t…didn’t encounter the dark eco the same way his friend did.”
To his relief, Mar accepted this with a shrug and went on happily giving a decidedly garbled retelling of what was presumably the explanation behind Daxter’s ottsel status.
“Alright.” Damas stood up and shifted Mar to the floor. “Time you were in bed.”
Mar pouted again, but let himself be led back to his cot in Damas’s chambers. The crocodog pup raised his head from the foot of the bed, made a sleepy sound, and settled back down. It didn’t fully relax until Mar was tucked back in under the blanket, but such was the nature of crocodogs. They were fiercely protective of any human lucky enough to be considered part of their pack.
Mar wriggled around until he’d made a little nest of blankets beside his puppy. “Can Jak come home tomorrow?” he asked.
With a sigh, Damas knelt beside the cot. “I don’t think so. Haven is at war, Mar. That makes it tricky to go visiting other places.”
“But I want Jak to come back now!”Mar protested.
“I…” for an instant, the words stuck in his throat. Damas looked away. “I do too, little one.”
The more he knew about the Dark Warrior Project, the more uneasy he grew about Jak being so far from the comparative safety of Spargus. They hadn’t even had a chance to properly discuss his identity yet – Damas had no idea if Jak would even be receptive to building a connection with some alternate version of his probably-dead father. Nevertheless, he found that he could not be fully at peace until he had both Mar andJak under his watchful eye.
based on an older Star Wars post of mine I saw the other day, involving humorous parentage theories
At first, Luke barely noticed when Rey and Finn brought armloads of datapads into the cabin, murmuring to each other. He’d long since learned to tune out that kind of distraction while meditating. When the Tico sisters showed up not long after, helping carry in what looked like a crate of something, it didget a little harder to concentrate, but Luke did not open his eyes. When Connix and the Dameron boy – good grief, he wasn’t a boy anymore, was he? That meant Luke had gotten old when he wasn’t looking! Oh no no, that wouldn’t do at all– came thumping in with his noisy little BB-8 unit at his heels, Luke gave up.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t tune them out, it was just that now he was too curious to.
Demolition Trio au, set right after the confrontation with Errol (and subsequently Keira) at the racing garage. Featuring a little worldbuilding for Spargus.
Something must have set him off.
Sig knew that Jak didn’t just Go Dark because somebody bumped into him during rush hour. He clung to whatever control he could manage with the desperation of a drowning man. There had to have been actual danger in order for Jak to morph now.
Right?
Sig hoisted himself up onto the roof of the saloon and scanned the edges until he caught sight of Jak’s hunched over figure. The kid didn’t have Daxter with him, which was worrying. His claws dug into the concrete, leaving shallow scratches, and he was breathing altogether too quickly.
“Jak?” Sig crouched about a yard away from him. “What’s up, kid? Is it metalheads? KG? Do I need to charge up the Peacemaker?”
Shark-black eyes snapped to the side to watch him warily. Jak bared long fangs in a silent warning: don’t come any closer.
“Okay.” Sig sat down and put his gun to the side. “Alright. I’m just gonna sit right here and watch your back, okay? Is that cool?”
He studied the boy, concerned.
“What happened, kid? Can you tell me?”
Jak opened and closed his mouth a few times, but couldn’t control his breathing or the dark eco enough to speak aloud. He tugged his claws out of the rooftop and clumsily fingerspelled a name.
Errol.
Sig knew that name to be more than just a champion racer now. He knewwhat that name meant to Jak. Revulsion flooded him like the bile in his throat, roughening his voice to a growl as he asked, “What did he do, Jak? Did that little creep touch you? Are you alright?”
“Taunted me.” was all Jak signed.
“In front of everybody, like he didn’t do anything wrong?!” A sense of outrage rose in his chest at the image.
“Well doesn’t he think he’s special, taking liberties like that.” Sig snapped. He took a deep breath. Being agitated wasn’t going to help Jak calm down. “Kid, if I could get into that part of town unnoticed, I’d wipe him off the map so fast the Baron’s head would spin.”
A bitter scoff wrenched itself out of Jak’s teeth. His hands were brusque and choppy as he answered, “But Keira likes him. Thinks he’s better than me.”
Keira? Wasn’t that the girl Daxter said they’d grown up with? Sig winced. He knew as well as any Wastelander that some of the worst abusers groomed their character witnesses as carefully as their victims. But that didn’t make the damage any less severe.
“I was supposed to race today. I can’t. I left Dax to race- I can’t look at them. I’ll snap, I’ll-” Jak put his hands down and gulped in air desperately.
“Jak?” Sig called softly, “can I come a little closer?”
After a tense moment, Jak nodded. Sig took it slowly, moving forward an inch at a time. With every forward motion he paused to give Jak time to adjust. The kid wasn’t the first shell-shocked warrior Sig had seen working through a flashback, and odds were high that he wouldn’t be the last, either. But it was always harder when it was somebody you knew and cared about.
“You cool if I just run my mouth for a minute?” Sig asked once he’d gotten within an arm’s length of the boy. “That used to help your- that used to help Damas focus right after Mar got kidnapped. Just something to drown out all the noise in your head, that’s what he called it. You don’t even have to pay attention.”
Jak was still tense and hypervigilant, but his ears perked up, rising from where they’d been pinned flat against his skull. It was the first sign of interest Sig had seen thus far, and he was taking it as a yes.
The big man settled into a more comfortable position and ran over a few ideas in his head.
“Did you know the first Spargans raised crocodogs as battle companions?” he began, “You’ve never seen a full-grown croc. Mar’s pup, Chopper? He’s only three years old. He won’t start getting bigger for another two years give or take. And man, he’s gonna grow fast.They’re big enough to take down a fully grown metalhead at about eight. By twelve, they’re big enough for a man to ride into battle.”
Jak shifted slightly to throw a curious glance at Sig. There were two points of light just barely visible in the center of his eyes – that was more than Sig had been able to see a few minutes ago. He was starting to break out of it – either that, or he was beginning to run low on dark eco. Sig kept talking.
“Once Spargans started using vehicles, they didn’t ride crocs into battle anymore. We went further inland, away from their natural habitat. Felt cruel to take them that far into the desert, y'know? It just seemed like it was time to let that tradition go. We stopped raising them, and the wild ones keep to the islands off the coast for the most part. But a few younger ones still wander into the city from time to time. Matter of fact, not long after he first staggered half dead into the city, Damas found an orphaned crocodog in a kangarat trap.”
He had barely been able to trade for enough food and water to last him a day, yet the newly exiled man had shared what he had with the wounded pup. That was where Sig’s mother had found him, huddled in an alley beside the dog. She had taken them both into her home and informed her son in a no-nonsense way that the refugee and the pup would both be staying.
“I think she knew he risked starvation to keep her alive,” Sig mused, “Because once she got big enough to do some real damage, she turned into a real demon around everyone who wasn’t Damas. If you so much as looked sideways at him, Ghost was liable to take a chunk out of you.”
Jak actually managed to force a smile at that. Sig wondered if he was thinking of Chopper, who already showed the same loyalty to both Jak and Mar.
“Does he still have Ghost?” Jak asked shakily.
His claws were beginning to recede now. Good, he was getting distracted enough for the dark eco to lose traction.
“He sure does.” Sig snorted. “That demon dog lives in a sea cave under the city. If he’d put her anywhere else, she’d have eaten anybody who came near her pups.”
He leaned forward, just a fraction. “Chopper is one of Ghost’s pups. Bet you didn’t know that. He was the runt. His sisters were all big and independent enough to hunt and survive without help after their first year. Chopper needed a little extra help. So Ghost brought Chopper to Damas.”
“How did Mar get him?”
Sig actually laughed a little at that memory.
“Same way he finds anything: by poking around somewhere he’s not supposed to be. Like somebody else I could mention.”
He winked at Jak.
“Little Man thought he was big enough to follow his dad through town, down to the sea cave that day. Which is terrifying, because he was two, and there’s a lot of steep ledges on the way down there. Of course, Ghost smelled him immediately and went all puppy-crazy. She got him by the back of the shirt and dropped him in her little nest, and once he saw Chopper, that was that.”
The toddler had squealed with joy, thrown his arms around the runt’s neck, and settled right down. While Damas had been busy having a miniature heart attack over how sneaky his son was, Mar had gotten cozy in the nest and ended up falling asleep. Ghost had been delighted, of course, that Her Human had finally brought his pup to introduce into their little pack. Enough that she wouldn’t even let them leave until Damas had taken the hint and picked up the runt. Ghost needed some pup-free time to rest and hunt. It was high time Her Human did his share of the work around here!
At this part of the story, Jak let out a startled hoot of laughter. Mirth softened those sharklike eyes and crinkled them at the corners. Personally, Sig found the look very endearing.
Jak sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. He rested his arms across them and took in a long, slow, breath.
“I’m…glad,” he rasped, “Chopper was…with Mar.”
Tentatively, Sig reached out and patted the kid’s back. “Me too.”
“Glad…he still…has a family.”
That made Sig wince. It wasn’t his story to tell, he knew that. But there was a wistfulness under that low growl that was tugging at his heart. He had to say something.It didn’t feel right to let Jak go on thinking he was unwanted.
“You do too, if you want it,” he said quietly.
“What?”
Sig swallowed hard and prayed for the right words. “Kid…I send a report back to Damas every day – everyday – because he wants to know where you are, what you’re doing, if you’re okay. It’s not just because you brought Mar home. He wants to know you,kid. He knows you’re his kid’s big brother. Now he wants to get to know you as Jak.”
There was an air of naked disbelief around Jak, even as his skin slowly darkened from corpse-white to the warm brown that Sig was accustomed to. He didn’t say anything, but as his sclera cleared, there was a look in his eyes that clearly said Don’t tease me like that. Don’t get my hopes up.
Not for the first time, Sig wished he could get ten minutes unsupervised in a room with the people who had filled Jak with such self-loathing.
“Hey.” Sig edged a little closer and nudged Jak with his shoulder. “You’ve already got your foot in the door. Once you’ve run a couple work missions with the folks in Spargus, they accept you as one of their own pretty quick. City’s only as strong as its weakest link, so once you’re connected you look out for your fellow links. You know what I mean?”
Jak looked away and somewhat conspicuously swiped an arm across his face.
“Guess so.”
Sig patted his arm. “C'mon. Race will be starting soon. You wanna go downstairs and watch Daxter kick tail on the racetrack?”
This is an au of an au. It’s based on my “pirate Megatron and company surprise adopting the very unwilling Team Prime”, but in this version the Cybertronians are a cyborg species rather than giant transforming vehicle robots. Just because.
It was always amusing whenever his men managed to capture one of the so-called “Autobots” for a little…discussion. The troublesome urchins fought with twice the ferocity of the government that had disavowed and exiled them, with less than a fraction of their training. For the most part, they coexisted with Megatron’s government in an uneasy kind of unspoken, hostile symbiotic arrangement. Megatron graciously allowed the young cyborgs their freedom, and they kept the streets clear of the rank and file humans who styled themselves “supervillains”. Eventually, of course, the Decepticons would have to take the little exiles in hand once and for all. But the birth rate of cyborgs was so low even without the war on their homeworld. There hadn’t been any Decepticon younglings – nor even Neutral younglings – for many years. They couldn’t afford to kill the Autobot team. Not unless every attempt at integrating them into the Decepticon forces had failed.
Lugnut shoved the door open with one steel-plated arm and marched in. His synthetic skin, where it showed, was bruised – even torn in some places – and his armor was scuffed. The reason for his state of disarray was trapped, kicking and swearing, under one of the massive cyborg’s arms. Megatron raised one eyebrow. It was no easy feat to isolate and capture Optimus Prime. Lugnut would be getting hazard pay for this.
“Thank you, Lugnut,” Megatron said calmly, turning back toward the window, “You can place him where you’d like. This won’t take long.”
Until the day the Autobots pushed him too far, he would continue to maintain an informal “catch-and-release” policy.
“What do you want, Megatron?” Optimus demanded.
Megatron didn’t turn around. “A little more respect from you, to start with, but I suspect that’s as infeasible a request as asking the Autobot Council to revoke your outlaw status.”
He could almost hear the boy wince behind him. Megatron knew how to twist the knife.
After a span of two seconds, Optimus ground out, “You want my "respect”, Megatron? Earn it.“
Megatron shrugged smoothly. "If you cannot respect a Cybertronian controlling an entire city with minimal human death, then I don’t know how to help you. But in the absence of respect, compliance will suffice.”
He glanced up at the reflection of his office – formerly the office of Professor Isaac Sumdac – in the window. The boy had actually been bold enough to take a step forward, only to be pulled back by Lugnut, who had no intention of letting the Autobot ringleader get close to his liege.
“Compliance? Are you kidding me?! I’m an Autobot!”
“Youwere an Autobot.” Megatron turned on his heel and stepped closer to the young man. “The Magnus wanted nothing to do with you the moment you lost the Allspark. If you returned to the homeworld today, the very cyborgs that raised you would have you in chains before you left the shuttle. You know that, don’t you?”
Optimus set his jaw stubbornly, but Megatron knew his words had found their target. The marauder leaned down, putting him closer to eye level with Optimus.
“Mark me, boy: I have permitted you and your companions to continue your misguided crusade in my city this long only because it so vexes the High Council. Had you been Decepticon offspring by birth, I would not have been nearly as lenient.”
Optimus shut his mouth with a click. He stared at Megatron as though he’d grown a second head: part confusion, part fear. That was better. Perhaps in future…meetings…the outlaws would be a little more appreciative of the freedom they had been granted. Provided Megatron’s own soldiers didn’t antagonize the younger ones unnecessarily again. Children were rather hot-tempered, after all.
“What do you want, Megatron?” Optimus asked again. His tone was wary now, and some of the fight had gone out of it.
Megatron smiled coldly. It was as he often told Lugnut: one did not have to engage in violence to make a point. It was much easier to let the enemy realize on their own that you held all the cards.
“Mr. Powell has been encroaching on company territory with Biotech Unbound,” Megatron said calmly. “I have received word that he intends to unleash nanobots to deal with refuse within the city. However, given his…portfolio, I suspect this nanotechnology will prove to be more of a virus.”
At least the boy seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. Malignant nanobots would endanger any cyborg, regardless of the brand they wore. Optimus’s jaw tightened until his teeth audibly ground together. Then he sighed and dropped his head.
“Fine,” he said wearily, “I’ll handle it.”
Megatron smiled thinly. “That’s my boy.”
He flicked his fingers in dismissal. “Run along, Parvus Prime. You’re free to go.”
The Decepticon paused. “Actually. Since you’ve caught me in a relatively good mood, if you manage to obtain the nanobot blueprints, I’ll allow Sumdac out to visit the little one. If you obtain the blueprints.”
Optimus clenched his fists. “Fine. I’ll get the blueprints. But Sumdac gets a full 48 hours with Sari. No five minute visit through a fence.”
“That sounds reasonable enough.” Megatron folded his hands behind his back. “And do take care not to let the wee one short out the computer systems. He’s gotten a little too fond of those electric "stingers”.“
Optimus actually rolled his eyes. ”You try telling Bee what to do,“ he scoffed. "You learn to pick your battles.”
He sidestepped as Lugnut reached for him and narrowed his eyes in warning.
“Hands off,” he hissed.
Megatron turned his eyes to the ceiling in mock exasperation.
For all his talk, clearly the boy’s original guardians never bothered to teach him to pick his battles. He would have to learn sooner or later if he wished to survive this new Detroit. As Lugnut escorted the angry outlaw out of the tower, Megatron shook his head and smirked.
“Entirely too much like you, this descendant of yours, Brother. The Allspark must have a sense of humor to inflict you twice upon me.”
been a while since I did anything from bnha! This is part of an au I made up strictly for my own amusement a few years back in which Izuku and All Might met at the hospital around the time of the big AFO fight, and All Might inadvertently got Attached. My sister and I just call this au “The Tagalong” for that reason. Whether the tagalong is Izuku or All Might depends solely on whether you’re asking Inko or Gran Torino.
(Also features Toshinori and Sorahiko having a better relationship than in canon, because I said so)
There was a faint smell of smoke clinging to young Midoriya’s school uniform when he arrived at the agency that afternoon. He didn’t look like he was hurt, but Toshinori knew better than most that appearances were deceiving. So after the boy had collected his visitor’s pass from Reception and picked up his worksheets from Tobio, Toshinori took him to one side.
“How was school, bud?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“I got an A on my math test!” Izuku chirped proudly. Abruptly, he winced and his smile fell. “Kacchan didn’t like that.”
Yeah, that was what he’d been afraid of.
Despite warnings and complaints, Aldera Elementary apparently refused to intervene in the Bakugo boy’s behavior. They’d only moved Izuku’s desk away from his when Toshinori had sent a member of his legal team to inform them of the lawsuit for negligence.
He was mainly going to sue them for negligence, but harassment was starting to look like a good secondary charge. It was really just a matter of what day he was going to do it.
Katsuki Bakugo didn’t burn Izuku anymore, but he definitely wasn’t abiding by his parents’ “no quirk use at school” rules. It didn’t matter that he was six years past the age of legal public quirk use; Aldera’s faculty were all so dead certain that he was going to become some amazing superstar hero that they allowed him to “blow off steam” in the classroom. They babied him, clucking their tongues and frowning disapprovingly at Masaru whenever he came to pick him up. It was cruel, they said, to forcefully suppress a child’s talents. Why, it was as if Masaru wanted his son to be like poor, quirkless Midoriya!
The sooner Inko found a better school for Izuku, the better.
“Did he hurt you?” All Might asked Izuku. “Physical, emotional, both?”
After keeping a brave face for a few seconds, Izuku crumpled.
“They’re never going to stop him, are they?”
He sounded more bitter and weary than any eleven year old ever should. “I’m so tired of being scared, All Might! I’m a…a person! Why do I have to be their punching bag? Why is Kacchan worth protecting, but not me?!”
All Might knelt to place his hands on Izuku’s thin shoulders. He breathed deeply and looked him in the eyes.
“It’s ending. I swear, Izuku, it’s ending. It’s just taking Ms. Masuda a little time to get a court date. But when it’s done, you’ll be at a new school, and the Bakugo kid’s behavior will be evaluated for a few years.”
It wasn’t permanent – and that was a concession made for Izuku, quite honestly – but having a TRO against him go before a judge, even if it didn’t end up being granted, would still be a permanent note on his record since it was quirk-related. Any hero schools he applied to would be able to see whether or not he had persisted in his aggression. If he passed the first evaluation period with no further attempts to approach or harm Izuku, perfect! The order would expire and there would be no further marks on his record. If the order of protection had to be renewed more than once, however, that would likely end up being a hindrance to Katsuki becoming a hero.
Toshinori truly hoped that being removed from the influence of Aldera’s teachers would help to heal Katsuki’s delusions of grandeur. But at the same time, he needed to prioritize protecting the child who was in immediate danger. Until Inko found the right school, having restraining orders against the two second year teachers would be the best they could do. They would not be allowed to even stand within 2000 feet of Izuku, and word would spread quickly that a student at Aldera had to get a restraining order against teachers.
All Might tried to put it from his mind for the moment. He placed an anchoring hand on the crown of Izuku’s head and smiled at him.
“Hey, Izuku. How about we take the afternoon off, huh? We can play hooky and escape the Tower for a little bit.”
Izuku knew All Might was trying to distract him. He didn’t always do that – usually they talked through his feelings, or talked about what Izuku wanted to say to his counselor the next time they met – but sometimes it helped. Izuku bit his lip and tried to say that he wasn’t quite ready to be around people yet, but the words wouldn’t come out. So he turned his face upward, hoping All Might would be able to read him that way.
All Might sighed and pressed his palm deeper into Izuku’s curls. “I know, buddy. I know. I just thought you might like to go somewhere a little quieter.”
With a shuddering little breath, the boy wiped away the beginnings of a tear and nodded. “Um. Can we go visit Gran Torino?” he asked quietly.
That was an idea. It had been almost a month since Toshinori had gotten a chance to visit the retired hero – something Torino had been complaining about in their frequent phone calls. Gran Torino was a good influence on Izuku…most of the time.
Therewas that one time when Inko had found out that Sorahiko let Izuku say swear words when it was just the two of them at the apartment.
“Gimme a second,” All Might said, and pulled his cellphone out.
“Hello? Hey, sorry to interrupt you at work!”
He listened for a moment. “No, no, it’s okay. Nobody’s injured. Izuku just had kind of a bad day at school. Is it alright if I take him over to Gran Torino’s?”
All Might stood up with a chuckle as Inko lodged a protest. “Only if you take the train,” he argued, “Inko, c'mon. You’ve seen me go from Sapporo to Roppongi in an hour. Nanbu is just a hop away!”
“Of course I’ll be careful! Ok. Ok, you too. Bye.”
He hung up and called over to the mission tracking desk, “I’m running a patrol in Yamanashi Prefecture! See you all in a bit!”
Izuku took that to mean that his mother had given her permission. He signed out of the visitors desk and started to head for the elevator. Usually, he would wait at the back of the building so people didn’t see All Might carrying him around. But this time, All Might stopped him.
“Up we go!” he said brightly as he lifted Izuku into his arms.
That was something that Izuku not-so-secretly loved. The way All Might would settle him in the crook of his arm so he could see. Getting to hear the hero’s heart beating through his costume. Or even just the sensation of being held. Before he’d met All Might, nobody but his mother had ever hugged Izuku. Not even Hisashi, and that was before his grandparents had taken him away.
Mom’s hugs felt like comfort to Izuku. Like a warm blanket, or ice on a burn. When All Might hugged him, sometimes it felt like armor. When he sat up here, on All Might’s forearm, Izuku felt like nothing could hurt him.
“Mr. Tobio, please open the roof hatch!” All Might called.
Then Izuku understood why he wasn’t meeting All Might in the parking lot. They were going to fly.
All Might felt Izuku’s fingers digging into the fabric of his costume, and he chuckled. The boy was practically vibrating with excitement! It had been some time since his last “flight”. Even knowing he couldn’t guarantee it, All Might promised himself that he would take Izuku jumping more often. Maybe one day Izuku would be jumping right alongside him.
“Ready?” All Might asked.
“Ready!” Izuku nodded. “3…2…1…”
“Liftoff!” they shouted together, and the ground fell away.
Wind roared in their ears as they continued to ascend, and Izuku could barely see out of his watering eyes. There was a pause, less than a second, but it felt like longer, when they seemed to hang motionless in the air, at the top of the jump. And then came Izuku’s favorite part: the free fall. Just as his stomach seemed to catch up to the rest of his body, they plummeted, leaving his stomach behind once again. Izuku whooped even as he clung all the more tightly to All Might’s neck.
All Might had honed his quirk for decades. He had so much experience jumping across Japan that the landings didn’t even jolt Izuku. All Might simply redistributed the shocks throughout his body. He said that wasn’t part of his quirk, but rather how he imagined applying it. Izuku had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he’d written it down anyway. It had been two years, almost, and All Might still talked about passing on his power like it was a done deal. So as long as he didn’t change his mind, Izuku was going to need to know how imagination was supposed to relate to using One for All.
Under their feet, the city blurred, melting away into patches of grey and silver peppered with neon lights and bits of grass. The closer to Nanbu they got, the more green stretched out to meet them. Izuku grinned down at the twist of the river as they neared a half abandoned neighborhood. They were almost there.
Gran Torino wasn’t exactly the kind of person most would expect a kid to like. He was gruff, and as a teacher he was no-nonsense bordering on drill-sergeant. But he listened. He never told Izuku that life was hard and he had to get used to it. He didn’t pity him, either. Gran Torino was one of the few adults who had ever looked him in the eye and said, “You don’t have to pretend you’re not angry. You got every right to be.”
When they landed in the worn-out old neighborhood, All Might shifted Izuku from his arms to sit on his shoulders. Almost nobody lived on this particular street anymore. That was alright with Gran Torino. The fewer faces to see him, the less likely it was that All for One’s little friends would find out where he was living. It also meant that there was nobody to make a fuss about seeing All Might out and about.
“I’m sorry I don’t do this with you more often,” All Might said abruptly. “I know being a hero cuts into the time I’m able to spend with you and your mom, but I hope you know how important to me you are.”
He sounded like he was worrying again, or feeling guilty. The older Izuku got, the more he realized how much like him All Might really was. So he leaned over to wrap his arms around the man’s head, both reassuringly and as an impish blindfold.
“You have the coolest job in the universe!” Izuku said. “I get to see you on tv every day, and in person almost every day. You don’t have to go out of your way for us, we know you’re busy.”
“It’s not out of my way,” All Might pouted just a little bit, “You guys mean the world to me.”
Izuku didn’t really know how to process that. Why did All Might care about them so much? He wasn’t Izuku’s father, and Izuku couldn’t do anything for him. He didn’t have a quirk, or friends, or money. But somehow All Might had looked at a kid everyone else rejected and saw a successor.
(Sometimes, when he was too anxious to focus on other things, Izuku would pretend that All Might’s easy affection meant the hero was treating him like family, more than his usual outgoing kindness. It would be nice to have somebody who actually wanted to be his dad.)
Toshinori had walked the street Torino lived on often enough to find the apartment blindfolded. After all, he’d spent the latter half of his teenage years there. So despite the skinny arm over his eyes and the giggling child on his shoulders, he had little difficulty in strolling up the sidewalk to Number 14. He stopped at the front steps and bent over.
“Alright, last stop: everybody off!” he joked as Izuku carefully slid off his shoulders.
Already the boy seemed to be in a better mood. For now, at least. Toshinori still planned to speed up the lawsuit a bit before things got any worse. And hopefully the next appointment with the therapist would help untangle some of Izuku’s feelings.
Toshinori knocked once, then fished his key ring out of his belt and unlocked the door. Izuku leaned around his legs and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Helloooo!” he called into the building, “Anybody home?”
Sorahiko had known who was coming the moment he heard the key turn in the lock. But, as was his nature, he pretended not to notice and lay on the couch, feigning sleep. If Toshinori had wanted him to be alert when they got there, he should’ve called ahead and mentioned that he planned to finally visit!
It took most of his willpower to keep his eyes shut when the sound of small feet scampering across the tiles told him just who his other visitor was. He heard the boy stop at the edge of the couch and stand still for a moment, just breathing. Then came an almost offended little voice.
“Hey! You’re not even sleepin’!”
Sorahiko responded by further exaggerating his snores.
“Nobodyactually says "z” when they snore,“ Izuku grumbled. "We know you’re awake.”
“No I’m not.”
Izuku hopped once. “Yes you are!”
Sorahiko grinned smugly, but didn’t open his eyes. “No I’m not, I’m sleeping.”
With a slightly frustrated sound, Izuku hopped closer. “Then how come you’re having a conversation with me?”
“I’m talking in my sleep.”
Toshinori shut and locked the front door and shook his head. “That is not the man who raised me,” he snorted.
But in some ways, he was. Sorahiko Torino had always been gruff, and had difficulty verbalizing affection. But he’d also always had a mischievous streak, and a bizarre sense of humor. Toshinori had legitimately thought the man hated him the first year Nana trained him until he learned to understand Torino’s jokes. Much of that humorous side had disappeared after Nana was killed. He was more stoic, stricter. Sometimes he’d been overly critical – something that had left a few wounds between them that he regretted to this day.
But now, with young Midoriya, the Sorahiko that Toshinori had first been introduced to was reasserting himself. He was a little bit softer with Izuku than he had been with Toshinori, though. It could’ve been because of Izuku’s age, or it could’ve been because of Torino’sage.
Toshinori knew better than to voice that particular theory.
Either way, it was clear that Sorahiko was providing something in Izuku’s life that the boy clearly needed. He was so…well, the only way Toshinori knew to describe it was to say that Izuku was bolder here than anywhere else. He trusted both of them implicitly. Not so much as a flinch if one stood up too quickly or raised his voice for a moment. In just over a year, Izuku had grown comfortable enough in the Torino apartment to ask them for things – usually asking to “play” with Torino so he could take notes on his quirk.
Sometimes Toshinori wondered whether his foster-father saw the boy as a surrogate grandchild, the way Toshinori had come to think of him as his own.
Izuku, tiring of Sorahiko’s game, grabbed the old man’s hands boldly and braced his feet against the floor to tug him into an upright position. Naturally, Sorahiko made it as difficult as possible.
“Come onnnn!” Izuku huffed. “All Might, um, All Might has to patrol but I don’t have any homework today!”
Sorahiko finally opened his eyes and cackled. “I think you’ve just been dismissed!” he teased Toshinori.
Izuku cringed. “Nonono! That’s not- I didn’t mean- you don’t have to leave, All Might!”
Toshinori pulled his boots off and dropped them next to Izuku’s shoes. He padded across the tiles, ruffling Izuku’s hair as he passed.
“He’s just teasing you, buddy. We know what you meant."
He dropped down onto the couch with a sigh. "Hey, Pa. How’s life?”
Sorahiko grimaced. “Pah. Boring.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing new with me. Now what’s the deal with Junior? I smell explosives. Is the little turd with the homicidal streak still acting out?”
Izuku glared down at his feet. “It’s kind of hard for Kacchan to actually learn anything when the teachers and the principal keep telling him he’s the victim.”
Sorahiko’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Did he burn you?”
“No sir. But he set my math test on fire.”
The old man nodded. “Then you are allowed to cuss, but only once.”
All Might looked scandalized. “Pa! Stop teaching him to swear!”
Izuku leaned over the arm of the couch. “But All Might, you swear! All the time!”
And that was when All Might remembered that while Izuku had a little trouble speakingEnglish, that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand it. Sorahiko exploded into hoots of laughter. He slapped his knee and pointed at All Might.
“Yeah! How about it, Mr. Potty Mouth? I’m just doing damage control!”
Izuku giggled and hoisted himself up over the arm of the couch. With a soft oof! he toppled over the edge and ended up sprawled across All Might’s legs. The man raised an eyebrow at him.
“Hi, can I help you?” he teased.
Izuku climbed over him and dropped to sit between the men. “Gran Torino, can you show me how to do the back handspring again? Mom said, um, Mom thinks I should start doing gymnastics for fun, because it’ll also help my training, and she thinks I should have more hobbies than just hero watching but I do have hobbies, I like drawing and movies and All Might and All Might trivia and-”
All Might watched Sorahiko nodding indulgently as Izuku rambled on in an impassioned defense of his hobbies before circling back to his original point: trying to convince the retired hero to teach him gymnastics. Sorahiko was patient with Izuku in ways he hadn’t been since before Nana’s death. He just let Izuku talk, and only tended to cut him off if it was important.
Sorahiko understood that the boy’s heart was still fragile. His spirit was still healing, and it would take more than just a year and a half to repair all the damage so casually inflicted by his peers and teachers.
“Junior, you can’t even do a forward roll yet,” Sorahiko said bluntly when Izuku had finished. “You oughta know by now that you have to start with the basics.”
“Yeahhh, I guess,” Izuku sighed. He was pouting just the slightest bit. “But if I see you do it, I’ll know what I’m s'posed to remember!”
A flat, beeping tone cut off whatever Sorahiko had been about to say. All Might jumped and pulled his work phone from his belt. Quickly, he scanned the information scrolling across his screen.
“What is it? Is it a villain?” Izuku asked. He sat up on his knees and tried to see over All Might’s arm.
“Mm-hm. Report says there’s some guy running around downtown mind-controlling people to rob a store by…biting them?” All Might squinted and held the phone closer. “Biting them? Seriously?”
He glanced down. “Okay, Izuku. What makes this guy a villain rather than a regularcriminal?”
Izuku tugged at his lips as he thought. “Larceny and unlawful use of a quirk in public don’t get you registered as a villain, necessarily. His quirk involves biting people though. So…assault, use of a quirk to commit bodily harm, and use of a quirk to violate free will?”
All Might put his phone away and smiled proudly. “Very good! You’re exactly right. And it’s that last one that’s going to have the stiffest penalty. Even if he was a hero or emergency services worker with a mind-control quirk, he would have to be able to prove it was necessary to prevent death or other injuries.”
“Like how you have to do the paperwork to show you didn’t use excessive force?” Izuku asked.
“You got it.” All Might flashed a lopsided grin. “Which is not the same as property damage, make sure you never confuse the two. I cause a fair bit of property damage sometimes, because I prioritize not using excessive force on humans. Better the pavement breaks than the perpetrator.”
“Unlikesome heroes, ” Sorahiko growled.
“That’s why the Todorokis spend so much money on lawyers, right?” Izuku said innocently, “Or else Endeavor would have his head andfive meters of litigation up his butt. Right?”
All Might spluttered in dismay. “Where did you hear that?” He gaped at the boy.
Izuku shrugged. “I heard Mom say it on the phone to her friend Ms. Rei.”
Chagrined, All Might rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…it’s true, but you shouldn’t sayit.”
“I’m gonna say it any chance I get,” Sorahiko chipped in bluntly.
With a snort, All Might stood up and rolled his shoulders. “Well. I’m gonna run out and deal with this "Loup Garou” guy. I’ll be right back. Be good, okay?“
Sorahiko barked a rough laugh. "You talkin’ to the kid, or me?”
All Might squinted at him. “Yes.”
Then he disappeared out the door.
Izuku jumped slightly when Sorahiko smacked his arm to get his attention.
“Huh?”
The old man heaved himself off the couch. “Get your shoes on, squirt. If Toshinori is going to drop you off while he works, you’re gonna help me run errands.”
“Oh, okay!” Izuku ran back to the door and balanced on one foot to pull his sneakers on. “But actuallyI asked All Might to bring me. Cause we were both kinda missing you, and today was a bad day, so I wanted to go visit.”
He didn’t see Sorahiko’s face soften behind him. Toshinori had picked a good kid. Even if the kid didn’t always believe it himself.
“Yeah?” He slipped his own shoes on and shuffled up to open the door. “What’s so good about visiting a crotchety old man, huh?”
Izuku thought about his answer as he hopped down the steps. As he reached the bottom, he turned and said, “You let me be angry. I don’t have to pretend grown-ups are always right when I’m with you. And you’re super fast and that’s cool, too.”
Sorahiko grunted. He didn’t verbally acknowledge the statement, but he didn’t have to. Izuku had come to understand his little noises over the last year, and he knew what approval sounded like.
“If we don’t take too long on the errands, we can stop at the canal on the way back. Briefly.” Sorahiko said. “So don’t dawdle, or you won’t get to feed the ducklings.”
Izuku perked up immediately. “There’s ducklings now?!”
Sorahiko grinned as he led the way down the sidewalk. So it wasn’t training for One for All. So what. A man was allowed to go on outings with his grandson from time to time, wasn’t he?
And if the “errands” consisted solely of buying fresh taiyaki from a vendor in the park, well, Toshinori didn’t need to know that.
“You left everything behind and for what ? You had such a good life, you had everything everyone would dream of !”
The tension rose in the air and person B looked back with an expression of distrust, distress, and pure anger. With gritted teeth they take a jagged breath before clenching their fists.
“Well maybe it wasn’t as perfect as you thought it was ! Maybe it was hell on earth for MEandI had to escape !”
The sudden change in tone throws person A off guard as they find themselves flinching to the new, and very much aggressive tone. Their face temporarily softening before hiding away behind a thin curtain of false courage, ready to die on the hill they didn’t even stand for.
“And even through it all, all the hardships, all the pain - you’re right back where you started”
“What ? — what the hell are you talking about ?!”
“Look around [name] ! No one is here, everyone is gone - they’re safe..but you’re not, just as it was before”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about”
“But I do, the sad little train wreck, love must not be affordable for you - you spend it all for others but no one gives you a cent. And now they just - poof - gone”
“You know, there’s a difference between you and I. I don’t look back and regret my mistakes, I don’t think about what could’ve been - if I could change it I’d do worse !”
“Why do you make yourself out to be so bad ? I can help you ! Let me help you !”
“No one fucking helped me when I needed it the most ! To all you be damned and I reign supreme for I make my own fucking legacy known to this god forsaken earth !”
“We..we actually made it, I never thought I’d get this far”
Person A spoke, panting as Person B stood behind them, both of them out of breath. Barely escaping with their lives.
“Yeah, I can’t believe it either. I guess I can bring back the bucket list -“
Person A perked up to Person B’s statement. Turning around to see Person B blushing, assuming it was from being so overworked, overwhelmed and the adrenaline still pumping through both of their veins. Got closer to Person B.
“What’s this ‘bucket list’ ?”
Person A teased jokingly, watching as Person B stiffened from the question. Tense and a look of uncertainty taking over their expression, which concerned Person A. Person A let out a nervous chuckle in order to try and ease Person B’s tension.
“We’ve known each other for years [Person B], you can trust me with whatever it is,”
“That’s the thing [Person A], we’ve known each other for so long. And if I tell you I fear I might lose you, or - or that awkward tension when —“
Person B began to anxiously ramble, hugging themselves as paranoia filled their head. Person A watched on for a moment, trying to listen to everything but soon it became incoherent.
“[Person B], please, you don’t have to tell me, really -“
“No no, you’re right,, I should trust you with it - better now than never right ?”
There was a short silence and soon Person B cleared their throat, finally getting their thoughts in order.
“What I’m saying is,, I love you”
“Awe I love you too !”
Person A obviously replied, making Person B anxiously frustrated for a split second.
“No ! Not like that, far from that ! I mean like, the I wanna hold your hand, hold you in ways that those couples we make fun of together do-“
Person A’s heart raced once again, their face turning the same shade of red as Person B. Person A smiled, lunging themselves at Person B and hugging them.
“I was hoping you felt that way about me too, [Person B’s nickname]”
TW/CW : torture, abuse, whump, kidnapping, threats of violence, death threats, manipulation, graphic to implied torture/harm, implied self harm
1. “And what ? You’ll hurt me ? Go ahead, you’re already weak - I’ll just have to hurt you back”
2. “Is that a promise ? Oh wait, you realize I have the power here to do whatever I want to you”
3. “I’d choose your words carefully, one slip up and I could just snap that little neck of yours, would be a shame for you to go so soon”
4. “You’ll soon understand that messing with me has consequences”
5. “What is it that you want ? It seems a death wish, otherwise you’d watch your tongue”
6. “What makes you think you’re somehow different than other victims before you ? You’re nothing”
7. “You are just another target, and boy I’m having some fun with you”
8. “You may not enjoy this, but I am”
9. “Keep screaming - keep squirming, keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll only tire yourself out”
10. “You’re not allowed to have the blissful taint of death, I won’t let you - we only just started”
11. “You gonna back up your words with actions or are you just another coward with a big moth and no filter ?”
12. “Funny how you think you have a fighting chance, you’ll lose your hands before you’re able to even touch me”
13. “we could make some,, arrangements if you obey me - for now however, you must learn”
14. “How hot will it be seeing you in your own blood ? We’ll just have to find out”
- “N-no..no please —“
- “Bold of you to assume you had a say”
15. “Trying to stay alive is a lot harder with me, isn’t it ? More fun for me seeing you struggle and collapsing”
16. “You say anything else and I’m carving my initial on your tongue”
17. “Learn to keep your mouth shut and your jaw won’t be ripped clean off”
18. “I’d hate to hurt such a pretty face”
- “Then why do it ?”
- “Never said I’d feel bad”
19. “Aren’t you clever ? But not clever enough, move anywhere and I’ll brand your thigh”
20. “Burning you is so satisfying, your screams with the sound of sizzling is so, amazing - now you’ll learn not to question me, won’t you ?”
21. “Watch where you stare, you may get it, or you may get it taken off your body”
22. “If only I liked you enough to make you mine”
23. “You’re a bold little [guy/girl/person], [y/n], but not bold enough it seems”
24. “You don’t faze me, but this knife will certainly go into something if you keep that shit up”
25. “What are you thinking ? Escaping ? Don’t make me cut off your/break your legs”
26. “If I have to tie you up and put you somewhere far away, I fucking will - don’t test me”
27. “What is it like — knowing you could die at any moment ?”
28. “Are you sure to be so cocky ? No one is coming to save you, only you, me and my little toys, the scalpel will be first if you move again”
29. “Who has control here ? Me, and whose blindfolded and tied up ? The one whose gonna become my little punching bag”
30. “And who do you think you are ? You think you have any ounce of power, respect or even rights down here ? You’re with me, [y/n], you should know better”
31. “I could break your neck so easy, your body is so fragile”
32. “You look so different with bruises and cuts along your soft skin…I could get used to this”
33. “You’re begging for mercy ? You don’t realize how quick I’ll be to burning you alive”
34. “Go ahead, underestimate me, but remember who keeps you, who owns you, at the end of the day”
35. “What ? Bargaining ? You can’t trade me anything in the world to let you go, you look so good when you cry in pain”
36. “Keep still and maybe I won’t slit a vein, maybe”
37. “You’re begging for death ? I said I wouldn’t let you go, and I intend on keeping my word”
38. “If only you had someone who pitied you, someone who cared about you - maybe you’d be free by now if someone did”
39. “Well, it seems that you’ve been rejecting food as of late - I don’t intend on letting you starve yourself to death, I’ll force feed you if I fucking have to”
40. “What makes you think you even deserve life ?”
41. “What makes you think you deserve freedom ?”
42. “Everyone hates you”
43. “Everyone thinks you’re dead, no one is looking for you”
44. “No point in trying to beg, I never listened before - what makes you think I’ll care for your safety now ?”
45. “Such lovely scars, all made by me, on a canvas like you”
Hello, beautiful people, I just hit 700 followers!
To celebrate, because I’m back on my DeanCas bull shit and #cantstopwontstop, send me asks with your headcanons or mini prompts, and I’ll write you a drabble!
Yandere Undead! Tomura Shigaraki x Y/N “I need You”
Fictober Prompt 1: “I need you”.
Currently taking requests for this month! Check out the prompt list I reblogged if you need any ideas.
Warnings: Not meant to represent an ideal relationship, if your partner is manipulative, pushy, and also a zombie, that is… not good.
“Open the door, I need you to open the door.” His voice is raspy and hardly above a whisper. Just a flimsy push lock is between you and the intruder. Your back is pressed against the wood, hoping that if he somehow manages to get the handle to turn, your body weight will stop him from forcing his way inside of your cramped bathroom. “They’re coming this way Y/N, they’re overrunning the town. They won’t be gentle like I will.”
The sound of his finger nails dragging against the door sent a shiver up your spine. You whimpered and covered your ears. He spoke louder, almost yelling now. “They’ll rip the flesh off of your bones, they’ll swallow your body like greedy pigs!”
Another crash outside of your apartment building window followed by a scream. You crawled on all fours, inch by inch to just peak outside again. Why haven’t you woken up from this nightmare? “I would never do that Y/N, I’m not like them I can still feel the way I felt before. I can feel you- I can feel you replacing the blood in my veins.” His fist slammed against the door, just once rattling the flimsy plywood on it’s hinges. “I need you!” He practically howled. “I need you! I need you- just you!” He slammed his fist into the wood over and over again between each scream. You choke out a sob, pulling yourself up with what little force you can muster by gripping onto the window sill. The city is in ruins, buildings on fire, car windows shattered and people screaming with all of the air left in their lungs. It’s utter chaos, the apocalypse was just like a comic book. Undead creatures crawled out of the sewers, biting pedestrians and breaking into homes. Alarms are blaring in broad daylight, life suddenly halted all at once. You sink back down the wall in defeat, eyeing the now quiet doorway. You squint, is the door knob moving? The intense sound of destruction outside is overwhelming, even with you being a few stories above the ground.
A tiny click, just a small metal pop and the door is pushed open. A pin is shoved into the hole of the handle, the monster was picking the lock the entire time. You shrieked and shrunk down into a ball, gripping your knees and covering your face. “Go away!” You begged with all of your chest. “Aw Y/N, you’re acting like you don’t want to see me.” He sounded breathy. “It’s hurting my feelings.”
You peeked through your hands. His skin is pale and void of any color, cracked and peeling skin along his lips and around his neck in a ring. His hair is stringy and covering most of his face as he crawls closer to you on all fours. “Don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Tomura. Your favorite customer at work.”
You thought for a moment, the hoodie guy? “You get a black coffee and a Snickers bar everyday…” You almost couldn’t squeak out the words, he started coming in recently. He sat alone and played on his phone for most of the morning. He’s quiet, you never really talk to him except to take his order or ask how his day is going. “See, you know me.” His long fingers reached for your ankle. You gasp and pull your leg tighter to you. “I said go away!” More tears spilled over your cheeks as you yelled at the monster. “Shh, shh you don’t need to be so scared.” He hushed you, his beady red eyes pleading and desperate. “I won’t bite…” He lunged forward and managed to grab onto your leg, yanking you towards him. “That hard!” Tomura burst into a sick laugh, his grabbing hands overwhelming you as he pins your squirming body underneath him. He dragged his tongue from your collar bone up your neck, flicking against your cheek. “You taste so good-” He plunged down again, letting his teeth rest against your jaw “-I’ve wondered what you taste like for long now.” He sucked and nipped at your neck, ears and face. “P-please don’t kill me.” You held back a confusing whine, his sloppy and strong kisses feel good. His hands are ice cold, they worked your arms above your head, keeping your wrists pinned to the floor. “Quiet little rabbit.” He spoke directly into your ear. Tomura planted a soft kiss on your temple. “You and I need to be together forever.”
He turned your head and aimed for your neck. “With just one bite.”
Send me requests either using the prompts from this list or send me the plot for something you want me to write. These prompts are not mine and have been taken from multiple sources.
Angst:
1. “stay alive, please.” 2. “seeing you with someone else really makes me sick to my stomach.” 3. “I love you, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.” 4. “holding everything in doesn’t help, you know?” 5. “Wake up, please wake up.” 6. “you’re bleeding.” 7. “I can’t breathe” 8. “don’t let go.” 9. “I’m right here, I’m not leaving, okay.” 10. “it hurts.” 11. “Just, hold on.” 12. “i’m going to take care of you, okay?” 13. “you can’t die. Please don’t die.” 14. “I’m not good enough for you.” 15. “don’t move, they hit your head really hard.” 16. “it’s just a nightmare. I’ve got you.”
Fluff:
17. “I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?” 18. “are you that desperate?” “for you, yes.” 19. “these days spent apart will only make us stronger, love.” 20. “please just kiss me already” 21. “I think I’m in love with you” 22. “it’s freezing, come here.” 23. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” 24. “I want to marry you.” 25. “apparently everyone has a bet going that we get together.” 26. “I can’t sleep. Can I stay here?” 27. “how much did you drink?” 28. “there’s only one bed.” 29. “is that my shirt?” 30. “steal the blankets again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” 31. “you’re in love with her.” 32. “how much of that did you hear?” 33. “kiss me.” “what?” “just kiss me” 34. “you’re cuddly” 35. “you want to tell me about it?” 36. “hey, don’t listen to them.” 37. “can you brush my hair?” 38. “I love you. So, so, sososo much.” 39. “come, let’s dance, please?” 40. “you talk to much.” 41. “your lips look cold.” 42. “my tie is too tight.” 43. “i’m not jealous.” 44. “just pretend to be my date.” 45. “let’s just cuddle forever.” 46. “i’m in desperate need of a hug.” 47. “I need to feel you close to me.” 48. “I took your hoodie, and you’re not getting it back.” 49. “if I could, I would kiss away all your scars.” 50. “when was the last time you ate something?” 51. “ah-ah-ah. You’re sick. You need to stay in bed.” 52. “i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” 53. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor. Here, get in bed with me.” 54. “why did you choose me?” 55. “i’ve missed this.” 56. “i’ve loved you for years.” 57. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” 58. “I could kiss you right now.” 59. “I love you, but stop talking.” 60. “i’d hurt anyone who ever left a scar on you.” 61. “you’re cute when your half asleep.” 62. “you look amazing tonight.” 63. “it’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep.” 64. “who cares about what they think.” 65. “ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” 66. “here, let’s share the blanket.” 67. “wait, don’t pull away… not yet.”
Smut/suggestive:
68. “fuck buddies are fine right?” “yeah totally” 69. “do you want coffee? Tea? Or me?” 70. “I know what I want, when I want it. So get over here.” 71. “i’m yours, in every way you’ll have me.” 72. “you might not like me, but you definitely want me.” 73. “you’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.” 74. “c’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” 75. “you know you always look so much better when I mark you up.” 76. “you’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.” 77. “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” 78. “are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” 79. “you better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll.” 80. “no, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” 81. “your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.” 82. “it’s been a long day, why don’t we help each other unwind.” 83. “get on your knees. Now.” 84. “make me.”
Random:
85. “children shouldn’t play with guns.” “who said I was playing?” 86. “i find peace in the rain.” 87. “I dare you.” 88. “truth or dare?”
Prompts:
89.Dancing in the rain. 90. Early morning cuddles. 91.Needing to hide from bad guys. 92.There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow your close. 93.Kissing in the rain and getting soaked. 94.I need a date for this wedding. 95.Spin the bottle. 96.Having a bad day and the other noticing. 97.Taking care of the other when sick/injured.
AUs - send me a plot you want for these:
98.Soulmate AU 99.College AU 100.Bodyguard AU 101.CEO/Boss AU 102.Coffee shop AU 103.Doctor AU 104.Teacher AU
hello! please feel free to send me some requests from this prompt list <33
