#i apologize for the rapid fire random ideas this past week

[tiredspacedragon]

I am plagued by thoughts of Toa Kaita and how their names and titles are determined.

Is every single one unique? That leaves the most room for creativity, and means the result of each fusion is dependent on the personalities of the individual Toa components, which seems like the most narratively satisfying option. But also, if every possible Kaita is unique, how do they avoid overlapping domains? Eventually Valour or Wisdom are going to be really fitting for some other combination of three Toa, or they'll just run out of fancy mental concepts to name themselves after.

Alternatively, do the names, or maybe just the titles, of any given Toa Kaita, depend on the elemental combination used to form them? Does every instance of Ta-Toa+Po-Toa+Onu-Toa result in Akamai? Does every instance of Ga-Toa+Ko-Toa+Le-Toa result in a Toa of Wisdom? I went and learned some math specifically to determine that there are 560 different possible 3-element combinations that can be formed from the 16 Toa elements, assuming all three have to be different, because that makes the most sense to me. 546 if Light and Shadow could not coexist within a single Kaita for some reason, and 455 if you don't count Shadow at all. Those are still really big numbers! But it seems a lot more feasible to come up with 500-ish attributes for each combination to represent than for each of the infinite combinations of individuals to result in something completely unique. But then again, it seems awfully limiting to simply assign a default attribute based on elemental alignment without taking into account the personalities of the constituent Toa at all. Would Vakama, Onewa, and Whenua really result in a Valour combination rather than something more tailored to them? Could Tuyet and Nidhiki really be part of a Wisdom combination?

Then perhaps there is a set number of possible Kaita and which of the limited (but likely still beyond extensive) list of possibilities the fusion forms is dependent on the three Toa's personalities? That feels like it's getting dangerously close to personality-based categorization though, and I've seen enough bad YA to know that's never a good idea.

Is any of this important at all? Oh no, not at all, we only ever see two Toa Kaita in the entire story and even they barely matter, this absolutely isn't the sort of thing that needs to be thought about deeply at all. But here I am, distracted by it anyway.

[hitsuackerman]

Soul Chicken (Hawks x Reader)

Prompt: Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something....unique.

(so this was generated by an OTP one shot generator and it caught my attention :D it was... challenging to say the least but still fun!)

contains: 4 year age gap (not that ya’ll would mind), fluff

Soulmates.

This was the one thing Hawks always managed to save for later. With just how fast he likes to move, he regularly shoved the idea aside. It was as if his mouth acquired a bitter taste each time it entered his train of thought.

How did this enter his mind once more? Oh right. The two people he had saved turned out to be soulmates. Such luck for them, he supposed.

Not that he didn't care, though. This bird child-man always dreamed of seeing who the universe had paired him up with. But to his luck, the letters etched on his skin were almost cursed. Cursed to the point where he merely gave up his search.

The first words his soulmate would tell him. The first words that would open new doors for his feathers to explore. Despite keeping his smirk pasted on his face, his heart would ache when he hears people saying it.

'Hey'

Those were the words inked on his inner wrist. A 3 letter word that was as overused as the word 'you'. How in heaven's name was he supposed to find his other half with every other person greeting him 'hey' with different variations.

Munching on his piece of chicken, he cleared his desk and began to look over the files his agency prepared for him. Laid on his desk were the profiles of possible interns he could gather intel from.

"Todoroki Shoto." He read and scanned the bio data. Endeavor would not be happy if he took him in. As tempting as it would be, he placed it on the discard pile.

"Bakugo Katsuki." His pupils shrunk at the memory of this kid being chained to the post. All while trying to bite off All Might's hand. "Little too wild for my taste."

"Tokoyami Fumikage." He immediately stamped the approval sign on it. A fellow bird in his agency? Hella fun!

"(L/N) (Y/N)." The 4th placer in the UA sports festival. His eyes drifted to your age. "Huh, interesting. Eldest of the class due to late enrollment and personal issues. 18 while the rest 16."

Nodding his head, your quirk wasn't too flashy but made up for its efficiency. Similar to his Fierce Wings. With his index finger tapping on his desk, he turned to his desktop and began digging up information about you.

Orphaned at the age of 6 due to villain attack. Jumped from foster house to foster house, a trouble maker? Top 2 in the class, makes up for intelligence? Pleasing to the eyes. Not bad, if he were to put it more into thought.

Biting the last chunk of meat, he approved of your possible application in his agency.

-----

"Yami…" You nervously whispered as you gripped onto his sleeve. "I'm nervous. I don't understand why he'd include me as a possible intern "

"Nonsense. You proved yourself worthy during the Sports Festival." Tokoyami tried to reassure you. Behind you, the window gave him a grand view of the city moving fast.

The two of you were now seated snugly inside the shinkansen. Because it was in the afternoon, the train wasn't as crowded despite buying reserved seats in advance.

Tokoyami's words seemed to work. Letting go of his now crumpled sleeve, you apologized but he simply told you it was no big deal. Looking at your hero suit cases, your eyes landed on your wrist.

It always made you wonder, what situation would your soulmate say those words. It was all too… random yet specific. Rubbing your thumb on the rather long phrase, your thoughts were cut.

"Is that… what your soulmate is supposed to say?" Tokoyami asked as he read the sentences. "Rather unique to say that on your first meeting."

"Ugh. I know." You sighed and tugged your sleeve a little lower. "I honestly gave up thinking of scenarios on how I'd meet this person."

"You are of legal age. I think it would be much easier to access places. But seeing those words, maybe you just have to look for people eating?"

"That's true but I think a part of me just wants to be surprised as to how we'd meet and how we'd exchange phrases. I did think this person would be at a fast food chain or some sorts, but I'd like to think he's responsible enough."

Tokoyami simply nodded. Looking down on his wrist, he too, began to wonder what circumstances would bring him and his soulmate together.

Feeling the train come to a halt, the two of you began to exit and board off the train. It felt like a blur, to be saying farewell to faces you see everyday. Though it would only be for a week, you would miss Ochako and Tsuyu.

When the high rise buildings were now in sight, Tokoyami nudged your elbow and pointed to a hero holding up a sign with your school's name on it. As the two of you walked towards the hero, you saw how the sign truly matched Hawk's Agency.

Ah yes. Hawks.

Your anxiety began to creep back up. Why would a pro-hero like him want an orphan who went to school late intern for his agency? Was this some sort of pity party? Or was your quirk enough to catch his attention?

"Calm down, (L/N)." Your friend whispered as he opened the car door for you. You sat in the back as he sat on the passenger's seat.

"Are you all excited to meet the #2 Pro-Hero?" The hero asked as he set the car to drive. His cheeks gave off he was smiling from your angle. "He's a pretty chill guy, you know. So if ya'll are anxious, he'll only catch that and make fun of you."

"How long till we reach the office?" Tokoyami asked.

"2 blocks from now. It's that building over there."

The two of you followed where his index was pointing at. It wasn't easy to miss. The building was huge and it was evident that his office was on the top floor. From your eyes, it would be the perfect height to take off for his wings.

The hero dropped the two of you by the entrance. Thanking him for the ride, 2 sets of eyes watched as the car turned to the corner. Probably to park in the underground carpark.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

The two of you proceeded to the receptionist. Judging by your uniforms, the two of you were given key cards to enter his office on the 35th floor.

"He's still out, though. Make yourselves comfortable. He won't be taking too long!" The receptionist said with a smile as she pointed towards the glass elevator. That got you thinking fire drills must be a pain in the ass with this amount of floors.

The view going up felt as if you two were flying. The way the horizon slowly showed itself was something you could look forward to for the whole week. Your bird friend agreed as well.

When the elevator doors opened, you two were met with a frosted glass wall with 2 capital 'H' on it. Similar to what his belt had. It was nice tho. Branding on point.

Before you could enter, you heard the buzzing of a phone. Feeling it wasn't yours, you looked at Tokoyami and told him it was alright for him to take it. Telling you he'd follow suit once the call was over. Pushing the door for you, you walked into his office. 

The office was definitely expensive. Glass windows framed 3 out 4 corners, his desk was simple but you could tell that the material was durable and expensive, 2 large paintings hung on the wall as well. Most probably commissioned since it fits Hawks image.

Walking towards one painting, you were about to touch the edges when your vision began to blur. Your body felt as if it were being tugged into the air rather forcefully. Harshly spinning you around, you were face to face with the Pro-Hero himself.

Your heart raced when it sunk in that it really was him. He was more handsome in person. His piercing yellow eyes seemed to observe you. Watching your every move.

His hands began to roam your sides. Patting motions till he seemed to find what he was looking for. Taking it out from your pocket, his gloved hand now held on to your ID.

"Hey!"

His eye twitched. You were officially the 15th person who had said 'hey' to him in a span of 4 hours.

"I swear that phrase would be the death of me." Hawks reacted in an emotionless face. Trying his best to compose himself to a student who merely wanted to feel the painting. "Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck."

Though it wasn't his intent to scare you, he just thought it would make a good long running joke for the duration you would stay. He just… snapped when he heard those words coming from you.

Looking back at you, he placed you back on your feet and took off his yellow visor. A big teasing smile appearing on his features. Complete opposite to what yours had.

"Hey, take a chill pill, my little intern. I was just messin' with ya." Hawks assured you as he gave you the finger guns.

"Y-You… S-S-Sentence…" Your mind failed to function upon hearing his first to you. The same words you had memorized and knew by heart. Your eyes were desperately trying to hold on to something but all you could focus on was Hawks and his crimson red wings in front of you.

The look on your face was a mix of shock, fear, and a slight dash of awe. What did he say that made you react that way? All he commented about was…

His mind clicked and his jaw slightly dropped. His pupils enlarged when he finally bought 2 and 2 together.

"Holy pidgeon smokes…" Hawks thought out loud while nodding his head. "Looks like things are bout to get interesting, my little soul chicken~"

You couldn't help it. A soft giggle escaped your lips when he called you his 'little soul chicken'. By now, you were positive your cheeks were all sorts of red. When he took a step closer, you bit your lower lip in an attempt to calm your rapid beating heart.

"Don't bite your lip now, birdy. We just met." He said as he used his index and thumb to make you face him. Damn. You're prettier up close.

His feathers seemed to shake a bit and he let go of his touch. A second after, Tokoyami entered the door and bowed at his new mentor. After telling him there was no need to act all business like, he pointed towards the couch and told you both to sit down.

"So today," Hawks began. "I won't let you both do much. Just get settled in and take the feel of this agency."

His eyes would linger at you when he said the words 'settled in' and 'take the feel'. When he saw you understood his implied meanings, he gave you a wink and proceeded with the necessary instructions.

"Tsukuyomi. Your room would be on the 27th floor." He said and tossed the keycard. Tokoyami caught it with ease. "And you, my precious love nugget, will stay on the 30th floor."

By now your face was numb from all the heat that had traveled upwards. Expecting him to toss it, the key card was given to you by one of his feathers. Taking it from the floating feather, your breath hitched when the feather found its way to your lips. Brushing it ever so softly before returning back to his wings.

Tokoyami wasn't quite sure what was happening. He had heard that Hawks had a carefree attitude, he just didn't expect him to hit on you right then and there. (Though he did have a feeling that at one point you were bound to get bombarded with his flirtatious attempts.)

"So… Any questions?"

"What time do we start tomorrow, Sir Hawks?"

"We start at 7am. That good?"

The two of you nodded. With that, he dismissed you both and gave you free will with what you wanted to do on the first unofficial day of internship.

"Not you though, chickadee!" The way the light bounced from his golden eyes made them glow. "We still gotta talk."

Tokoyami squinted his eyes at you. His peripheral vision on Hawks. Brushing the thought aside, he excused himself and went towards the elevator.

When you heard the ding, your heart stopped when Hawks stretched his wings. Showcasing their impressive span. They began to shake a bit with each step he took. He would spread his wings and pull them back half way before extending them once more.

By the time he was in front of you, you were all smiles as he began to fold his wings alternatively. It was all too amazing, how this person had wings as a quirk. In the blink of an eye, all you could see around you were his feathers and the gorgeousness of his face.

"What was that for, Hawks?" You covered your mouth. Trying to hold in a giggle.

"Hey. Don't. I like seeing your smile." He said as he gently held your wrist, pulling it down to reveal what his eyes wanted to see. "And that little exhibition I did was a small mating call, soul chicken."

You began to fold your arm and imitate how chickens flap their wings.

"Not as impressive as yours, but I hope that did the trick!" You were now grinning from ear to ear. Seeing him chuckle at your lame attempt at flirting caused his stomach to swarm with little lovebirds.

"Oh. It definitely sealed the deal~"

His hand began to trace your arm till he stopped on your hand bringing it closer in order to see his first words meant for you.

'I swear that phrase would be the death of me. Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck.'

"I can see why your eye twitched when I said 'hey'. That's literally the most overused word." You commented when you saw his mark.

"That's what I tell myself everyday." An amused grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, his pupils shrunk and his feathers began to ruffle. "You afraid of heights, birdy?"

"Not really. No. Why?"

His arms wrapped you tightly. Bringing you chest to chest with him. His wings now spread out with the occasional flap.

"Hawks…"

"Better hug me tight, nugget. You're in for a wild ride~"

Giving your cheek a quick kiss, he flapped his wings once more. This time with a bit more force in them. You could feel your feet leaving the ground. On instinct, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

Next thing you knew, you were screaming with joy at the feeling of being swooped away from your feet. Literally.

Little did you know that Tokoyami had been watching the whole fiasco.

"Things really are going to get interesting." He said with a small smile on his face. Happy that his close friend found her soulmate.

With that he finally exited the office and made his way to his room.

[hisgirlwonder]

One Shot - Greedy

Length: 2.7k words Warning: Smut, humiliation, Sub Michael, mommy kink, pegging, etc. Synopsis: Michael has spent the last two weekends at Hawthorne alone... Or so you think. It turns out he’s been misbehaving and you need to make him pay. Notes: This has taken me days to write because I haven’t particularly been in the best headspace to do anything remotely sweet so hopefully it’s okay and you guys like it.

You’re waiting outside his door and are trying to keep your cool but it’s been two weeks which has led to you missing him like crazy. You finally had the weekends to yourself again so you decided to pay him a visit as a surprise. You had no idea Michael had a surprise for you as well and you’d soon learn it was one that you weren’t really expecting.

One after the other in rapid succession your hands knock against the wood of his bedroom door; recklessly like a drumroll, your excitement apparent with your lack of care at the noise.

The door unlocks and stood before you there he is, Michael Langdon – the love of your life and fire of your loins. All near six foot of the prettiest thing you ever did see.

He’s holding the door open by the handle with a face that said it all - a slack jaw, presumably at how good you look, like he’d almost forgotten how luscious you were.

Michael missed you in that skirt. His favourite skirt. The one that clung to you in all the right places. The one that felt so good underneath his fingertips but even better when it was on the floor and your body was exposed, ripe and ready to be devoured.

You and your long legs sashay in through the entrance and pass him, the Bordello’s on your feet hit the wooden floor with each step. With his fetish for you in heels, the noise was music to his ears. Those blue eyes in his skull nearly burning through the fabric of the clothing covering your ass as you pass by and those hands aching to touch you all over.

His arms wrap around you like a blanket and your face sinks into his neck - your nose hits the curve of where his throat meets the clavicle (a popular resting home for your teeth) and you inhale the scent; his love and adoration makes him smell sweet until it hits the back of your throat and your mouth waters over the change; you can smell and even taste the lust cycling throughout his body and seeping through his pores.

Your mouths meet like old friends who greet each other in the only way they know how to – each pair of lips parting only for your tongues to crash against and around each other, and surges of electricity flowing through your veins instead of blood.

It was almost like an excited child had taken him over as the two of you part from the kiss and he proclaims, “I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I’ve had you in my arms!”

Every single time he looked at you it was like the first time all over again - his eyes would shine as if they were made from the sky and every bone in his body would turn soft. Michael was tough until it came to you; you held the key which opened his lock and could access his weaknesses.

A hand of yours goes for his face to caress it while you baby him, “I know baby and I’m so sorry. I bet my little boy missed his Mommy, didn’t he?”

Michael leans into your touch and is overcome with a different sort of childlike manner; this time younger, more innocent sounding, “Yes, he did. He missed her sooo much.” That word, his favourite word, turned him into putty.

Your hand moves around to the back of his head and you pull him in to kiss his cheek, saying that you’ll make it up to him and gesturing for him to sit on the bed. Michael obeys, he always does, and perches himself comfortably on the edge, feet slightly swinging. You bring yourself down to his level, hands on your thighs, with your eyes perfectly aligned in height and ask, “Was my little Mikey a good boy while I was away?”

Michael shies away, looking in an opposite direction, so you try and get his attention and ask him again.  He still won’t look at you and this time his head drops, akin to a naughty child knowing he was about to be sent to confessional, “Not exactly, me and one of the boys…” his sentence trails off out of embarrassment.

The thought of Michael being fucked and sucked by his classmates had been your guilty pleasure since you found out he was going to be living here but you had to keep a straight face. You didn’t dare let the subject of your “self-love” sway the situation at hand – yes, this was a turn on, but Michael first and foremost was yours. “I need to teach these boys who owns you.”

As you flick your heels off carelessly to the side, Michael decides to chime in with an apology; he doesn’t get very far before you cut him off with your hand and interject, “Mikey, hush.”

You hike your skirt up and sit on his lap, his semi-erection pressing against the exposed flesh between your legs; more often than not you wouldn’t wear underwear when you came for a visit – this drove him crazy, especially when the two of you had to behave in public.

His golden curls get trapped in your grip and you gently tug as a reminder of who is the boss. Your hot, lustful, breath travelling down his neck and you’re teasing the earlobe with your tongue, “Tell mommy what happened.”

Michael gulps back and admits, “He showed me how to go do down on him.”

His hair still in your fingers and you pull tighter, his teeth locked together but you can hear him sucking back air in pleasure through the cracks. You let go, swooping your hand across his jaw and rubbing fingers over his lips, “I’m guessing your little fantasy of this pretty mouth being wrapped around John Henry’s cock wasn’t fulfilled?”

You feel Michael get harder between your legs at your words. “Oh you like that, do you? Have you let any of the boys relieve you?”

“N-no, I leave that for you.”

You manoeuvre off his lap to position yourself in front of him and readjust your skirt as you explain, “Good. We do need to teach you a lesson about misbehaving though. I want you to take off your clothes so you’re only wearing underwear. Make sure mommy can see you.”

He does as he’s told like an obedient puppy – standing before you in his underwear, stained with a patch of pre-cum; he knew what was to come and he couldn’t contain his excitement.

Your hands pull him into you by his hips then one falls to stroke at his wet patch; you got such a kick out of him making a mess in his underwear because it meant you could mock him.  Michael knew from the look in your eyes what you wanted so proceeds to take them off.

After they’re off, your hand finds its way around his length. Eyes peer down at the uncircumcised cock in your hand, noticing more of a mess than you originally thought there was; without a word, you bend down and lick it off. You leave your tongue coated in the salty, viscous liquid that had built up from his arousal and your mouths connect again – the two of you engage in a lewd kiss; his passion partly fuelled by the mild humiliation you were inflicting upon him. “Be an angel and bend over the bed. Throw me a pillow, though.”

*

You’re on your knees and his ass in front of you like a gift that’s begging to be unwrapped. Your tongue lightly brushes against the hole, Michael whines for more like a greedy child. You then rub the rim with a finger and spoke sternly, asserting your dominance, “You’ll get more when I let you have it. What I really want to know is when this boy had his cock in your mouth, did you make him cum?”

He’s still whining like a baby, unable to articulate himself past the word “Yes,” and trying to push back onto your hand for some kind of stimulation. You wet a finger and slide the tip into his ass, wiggling it around as a tease. He says nothing so you push your finger in further, “Did it make you want more?”

All Michael can do or say at this point is let out a bunch of incoherent sounds; he’s starved of your touch and desperate. You made him feel things not even he could make himself feel which meant the last two weeks were torture. You fuck him with your finger, demanding an answer, “Did you enjoy being a little slut? I bet you wish this was a cock in your ass, don’t you?”

He smacks his hands down on the bed, dragging his nails across the surface of the blanket.

“You want more?” You taunt him, knowing exactly what his answer will be. He’s nodding his head while weakly begging you by now. You decide to take pity on him, pulling out your finger and covering an extra one in spit then sliding the two back inside and massaging at his prostate.

Michael, having lost all composure, starts fussing about how he needs it. It is his code word for when he’s in this frame of mind, for you to peg him. You fuck his ass faster with your slender digits, the digs rolling off your tongue, “How bad, Mikey? How bad do you want mommy’s cock in your ass? Make sure you use your manners.”

He’s moaning, “Please mommy please, I neeeeed.”

You withdraw from his ass and make your way over to the closet, “Michael Langdon, you really are so needy. I don’t even know if I should fuck boys who don’t like to tell their mommies when they’ve been swallowing mouthfuls of cum.”

You open the closet and search around for the black box Michael has. It’s hiding in the corner, away from prying eyes. You throw off the lid and burrow your hand into the random articles of clothing to grab out a strap-on the two of you bought together as well as the bottle of lube.  You travel back to where he is, still bent over and open to you, rubbing the dildo against his ass and pressing him, “Mmmm, I bet baby wants this.”

You remove your skirt and throw it to the side then slip on the harness holding the fake dick in place. Popping open the lid of the bottle, you squeeze out some pseudo slick and coat the toy to prepare it for Michaels tight hole. He loved women but couldn’t go past the feeling of something hitting his g-spot; you couldn’t blame him because you felt the same way.

There’s lube still covering your fingers so you rub the rest of the wetness around his hole then slide in the tip of the false head in. Michael doesn’t care and pushes back. You plead with him, “Don’t be in such a rush, baby boy.”

Starting off slow, you pull him halfway back and then ease off – pushing the toy in gently, ensuring you didn’t cause him any pain, but he gets greedy and takes charge, fucking himself at his own free will. He’s moaning, drunk on pleasure, and comes down the shaft once more before you hold him in place. “Michael, no. Little boys don’t make the rules.”

He then speaks to you in the most childlike voice you’d never heard and the tone sounds as if he’s pouting, “Mommy mad at me?”

“No, Mommy doesn’t want you to rush things but you’re such a god damn brat sometimes.”

You reach around to take his very hard erection in your hand, leaving him unable to move; one arm is around his torso and the other arm has its hand around Michael’s cock. His ass is full of you, just the way he likes it. He rocks his hips back and forwards to feel something even though you’re the one in control. Your grip tightens and becomes vice-like at his behaviour.

“Are you going to behave?”

Michael mumbles something but you can’t hear him properly. Your grip is still tight around his cock. “What did you say, Michael?”

He speaks up but stutters, “Y-y-yes mommy.”

Your clasp drops and your focus switches to his ass as you thrust your hips – how perfect it is, how tight it was around the strap on, how much you owned it. “I’m sure you wish this was your favourite teacher, don’t you? I bet he’d love to fill your sweet little ass like I am.”

He lets out a mewl of enjoyment; you know it’s true and you don’t even have to say anything more.

“It’s okay, go on, touch yourself for mommy.”

You slow down again to almost a complete stop, watching as his hand traverses along the length of his hardness. “I bet you wanted those boys to touch you like you’re touching yourself right now.”

Now that Michael is warmed up, you get faster and harder and he’s still pumping at himself. The sounds of his ass hitting into your thighs and his moans are almost angelic, sending shivers down your spine. He’s trying to muffle them so you tell him off, “Don’t you even think about it. You were naughty, remember? Everyone has to hear.”

You speed up your movements again, fucking his sweet spot to hear those moans which he can no longer hide; the volume growing louder before he cries out that he was going to cum – this makes you stop completely, he’s practically sitting his ass on your mound full of you.

“You don’t get to cum until I say so, remember?”

This is where you decide to inflict the pain on him that he enjoys oh so much. You take the cock from him, knowing that he’s about to climax and run up and down his member lightly, moving your hips a little. The other hand of yours slap at his balls, sending tiny shockwaves of mixed pleasure and pain across his body.

“None of these boys here can fuck you like I can.”

You slap his balls again, and again, and again. Each time he gasps out in pleasure and pain. Each time there’s a new expletive. You smack his balls once more, harder that time, and stroke his cock. You cup your hand around the head in preparation and not a moment later he spills his hot load everywhere, grunting and moaning in almost agony from how good of a release it is.

There’s a knock at the door and you have to hold back the urge to giggle when you learn it’s John Henry asking Michael if he’s okay. Michael’s voice cracks and breaks like he’s a pubescent teenager again and assures him he is. John Henry replies, “Alright then, just checking,” and continues to walk down the hall.

With your clean hand, you tousle his hair while subtly baiting him, “Poor little Mikey, letting everyone hear how good he just got fucked.”

Your other hand is covered in the evidence of what just happened so you hold it in front of his face and call attention to the earlier comment he made­, “You told me you wanted more so now is your chance. Clean mommy up.”

His tongue laps at the spilt seed, licking up the mess until it’s clean. Your face is rubbing against the back of his head and you place tiny kisses sparsely in approval; both at his obedience but also you being able to relieve him. “Did that taste good, baby?”

Michael answers the question in an almost purring manner after being pacified by you, “Almost as good as you.”

Taglist: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sensitivethot @sammythankyou @sevenwondr @langdonsdemon @itsaliceinthegalaxy

[jetzelda]

Death Activated Quirk: Nara Shikamaru Edition

Izuku activated his quirk once again during the battle simulation. It was an accident. Nara Shikamaru doesn’t really care.

Izuku passed U.A.’s entrance by sheer dumb luck. Kaachan had more issues with Izuku than Izuku did with life in general. Also, All Might wasn’t a great teacher if it came to more than one student.

These were seemingly random thoughts that flew through Izuku’s head as he fled the raging, spitting ball of explosions and screams that was Kaachan.

Their first class with All Might was a battle simulation. It was Heroes versus Villains. The class was decked out in their full hero outfits designed by each student and created by the support department. It was supposed to be exciting but typical.

Luckily for Izuku he was paired with that wonderful Uraraka Ochako that was nice to him in class and at the entrance exam.

Unluckily for Izuku they were against the glasses wearing, slightly too formal and stiff, Iida Tenya and Kaachan.

I’m starting to think I’m getting your Sawada bad luck.

No one replied to him. He hadn’t expected it. He developed a new habit of talking at no one, or himself he supposed, in his head.

Tsuna had only checked in twice in the past two weeks. Once before the entrance exam. Again when Izuku passed. Apparently, bad things were going down in Tsuna’s own dimension. The mafia boss didn’t have time to visit Izuku’s head like he did before.

Izuku told himself he didn’t mind. Reassured himself that he was growing stronger, more independent. He could manage without Tsuna.

And yet, hiding from Kaachan in this small hall with the Vongola Intuition screaming in his head made him feel very, stupidly wrong.

Not that he was giving up. He had come too far for that. He was rapidly constructing and dismissing plans in his head. With Kaachan focused on him, Uraraka could find the weapon. They had a chance.

Izuku held on to that thought when Uraraka contacted him. Clung to it when Kaachan found him. Swore upon it when he declared he wasn’t afraid.

The thought slipped away like water through sand when Kaachan aimed his gauntlet and explained its function, at Izuku. All Might’s voice was white static in his ear. He heard Kaachan’s voice clearly.

“IF IT DOESN’T HIT HIM HE WON’T DIE!!!”

 Nara Shikamaru had been unpleasantly woken from naps before. It was given with his line of business, having Ino for a teammate, his choice in friends, and the girl he fell force.

But going from falling  asleep under a nice, secluded, and perfectly shaded tree to waking up in a pile of dust and rubble in the middle of odd stone buildings, one of which with a gaping hole, was new and unpleasant on an entirely different level. And added to that, his whole body burn burned like he decided laying out in the deserts of Wind Country was a grand place to sleep.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU DEKU!”

Some kind of intercom came on and scolded the pubescent voice and issued an ultimatum, garnering more cursing.

Is this hell? Shikamaru mentally questioned himself. Did he burn to death somehow? Because that was what it felt like. Although, the burning feeling was fading.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Shikamaru winced. Screaming in his head was new.

I’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRY

Okay, now he was at least 80% certain that wasn’t him he was hearing.

Izuku? Are you alright? What’s going on? I felt your panic.

Two voices in his head now. He was pretty sure he was dead. Or crazy. Or possibly even both.

Oh. I see now. Shit.

I’M SORRY!!! YOU’RE NOT DEAD! I SWEAR!!

There was some movement at the gaping hole in the building. That would be a lot more comforting if I knew who you were or what the hell is going on.

Well, the shortest version I can manage is that I am Sawada Tsunayoshi, and you are currently in Midoriya Izuku’s body. In this world of people with a special ability, or quirk as they call it, he has an ability that snatches another ‘soul’, if you will, to inhabit his body every time he dies. Welcome.

Shikamaru could have banged his head against something. The different world and inhabiting another body tidbits were new brands of headaches. But he was more focused on : YOU JUST DIED? He shoved off the rubble. He needed to get this body to safety. He faltered when rapid images and thoughts filled his brain. He was quick to recognize them as not his own.

Wait! Please, not yet! At least the kid wasn’t screaming anymore. I’m sorry you got dragged into this! No one was supposed to die! It was just a battle simulation!

Shikamaru saw the blond boy in his mind’s eye, aiming his weapon and firing with a crazed look. You have to be fucking kidding me. He was fast to filter the pertinent information he needed out of these thoughts, ducking in cover behind the rubble so that brat wouldn’t spot him. His fists, or Midoriya’s fists really, clenched tight in response to his growing agitation, the burns on them rapidly healing. That wasn’t a fucking accident.

Agreed. Sawada chimed in, voice icy cold. Bakugou crossed a line, Midoriya. You need to end this simulation and speak with All Might.

His mind revealed the giant man of muscle shrinking to a skeleton with hair and skin in his brain. A teacher for Midoriya.

But I can’t let Uraraka down! The kid protested. She’s depending on me! And-And even if I’m knocked down- A hero never gives up!

Oh fuck, not one of these types.

Annnd, he felt Midoriya’s flash of hurt and guilt. He wanted to groan. He did groan with Midoriya’s mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that, kid. I meant your life is more fucking important than some school exercise.” Seriously, the academy didn’t do shit like this. But then again, the academy didn’t have kids that spontaneously combusted. Usually.

Midoriya didn’t reply.

He could practically feel Sawada sigh. Very well, if it is so important, Nara-san, is it? Shikamaru didn’t even need to think his confirmation. Would you be averse to completing this simulation for Izuku? Then we can talk to All Might. Is that acceptable for everyone?

Well, how could Shikamaru say no with the kid feeling like that?

Thank you. The kid’s voice was small. I’m sorry you were pulled into this.

You don’t need to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault, kid. Shikamaru dismissed. He peered over the rubble and spotted the blond teenager searching for a sign of them from that hole in the building. Him, on the other hand-

Shikamaru would deny being petty or vindictive to a teenager until his dying day.

All Might knew there was something very wrong. Young Bakugou blowing a hole in the building just to attack Young Midoriya was a huge tip off (that boy was a whole bag of issues he had no idea how to address). But when minutes passed without a visual of Young Midoriya, All Might began to fear the worse.

Young Midoriya did finally appear, to the visible and audible relief of his young classmates watching. But All Might felt no relief. In fact, he was more worried than before.

Young Midoriya did not act like himself, or like Sawada-san. Young Midoriya, for all his hopes and gains these past ten months, had not yet accomplished a confident stride a hero needed. He still walked with a slight hunch and a tension like he would jump out of his skin the moment you touched him. Sawada-san carried himself more like a hero should, a calm confidence like he was untouchable, and yet just enough tension so that he could spring into action at a moment’s notice.

When Young Midoriya appeared, he carried himself in neither of those two ways. Instead, he was slightly slouched, one thumb hooked into his utility belt, his other hand resting at his side. His hero outfit was in tatters, and he was covered in dirt, but miraculously no burns. He looked incredibly put-out as he faced the angry Young Bakugou.

Words were exchanged between the two boys that the audience couldn’t discern. Young Midoriya’s face twisted in smug satisfaction-and perhaps vindication?-as Young Bakugou’s was struck with shock, which quickly transformed into a blind fury as he threw himself screaming at Young Midoriya.

All Might didn’t even have a chance to warn him to not use his gauntlet once more.

It was over in mere moments.

Young Midoriya leaned his body just enough out of the way of the incoming attack. He twisted slightly to come up behind Young Bakugou, jabbed his index fingers into several places of his attacker. Every movement was precise, and only just what was needed. No energy was overexerted. It was…a precise, yet lazy sort of grace. And then it was over. Young Bakugou dropped like a stone.

He didn’t appear to be unconscious. His head twitched and jerked and his mouth moved as he screamed inaudibly to the viewers. Young Midoriya just appeared to scratch the back of his head and sigh. He wrapped Young Bakugou’s in the capture tape, and then left him.

The simulation ended shortly after that. When Young Midoriya joined Young Uraraka the Hero team captured the last villain and won.

When All Might went to collect the four students, he approached Young Midoriya first. He couldn’t hold onto his objectivity towards his students right now when so many pieces of evidence were pointing towards something terrible.

Young Midoriya seemed to be expecting him, once again in the slightly slouched postured and appearing put-out, and perhaps even bored. He cleared his throat. “Young Midoriya…?”

The teenager looked met his eyes with an older gaze than he should have. “Wrong.”

That cinched it

“I’m terribly sorry, class, but it is of the utmost importance that today’s simulation be ended. I must take Young Midoriya to Recovery Girl and Principal Nedzu right away.”

There were various exclamations of shock, protest, disappointment, and worry that All Might utterly ignored. The teacher and student’s worse case scenario had happened, and he intended to follow through with contingency plan they created before even the entrance exam.

“Wait.” Young Midoriya interrupted before they left, startling several.

The green haired teenager set his eyes on another student and singled him out with a point of his finger. “He’s coming too.” He announced to Young Bakugou’s shocked face.

 Midoriya Izuku was a sweet small ball of sunshine that needed to be protected at all costs.

That was the conclusion Shikamaru came to as Izuku mentally informed him on literally every hero they passed. The teenager was a tactical and reconnaissance genius that was unrecognized and underappreciated, and yet wanted to put himself out in the big bad world of ridiculous abilities to save people.

He felt Izuku’s delight and embarrassment.

Right, he wasn’t quite used to sharing a mindscape with people, meaning they felt everything he did and received every thought, whether it was an active or passive one.

I still haven’t gotten used to it. Tsuna offered. It’s easier to just go with it and move on.

A throat being cleared pulled Shikamaru from their combined thoughts. He refocused on the present.

They sat on a bed in the infirmary. Recovery Girl, who was a small old lady, was looking him over. A tall dark haired man, their homeroom teacher Eraserhead, leaned against a wall by the exit. All Might stood next to a summon animal in a suit, that was apparently the principal for this school full of teenagers. Bakugous sat angrily, but thankfully silently, sulking on another bed, refusing to look at anyone.

Shikamaru wasn’t sure who cleared their throat. “Yes?” He asked blankly.

Nezu was smiling politely and pleasantly. Shikamaru wasn’t fooled. “I was just saying how All Might gathered us all here about how the school records were inaccurate about your quirk, is this correct?”

Shikamaru crossed their arms. “Yes.” He confirmed. “U.A.’s records have Midoriya Izuku listed as possessing a strength augmentation quirk.” He recited from Izuku’s memory. “While it is true he does possess this quirk, it is merely secondary to a quirk he was unaware he possessed until he activated it approximately eleven month ago.”

All eyes in the room were on him now, even Bakugou’s, and only Bakugou looked shocked. All the teachers had a more concerned and curious look (except All Might, of course).

“You speak as if you are not Midoriya Izuku.” The animal principal pointed out.

“That’s because I’m not.” The genius responded boredly. “I am Nara Shikamaru. I am sharing Midoriya’s body as a result of his quirk.” Shock filtered through his mind when the kid realized what he was about to say. “Midoriya has a quirk that activates upon his death. Evidently, every time he dies, a random soul is sucked into his body. He’d rather I not tell you. He wanted it to be labeled a ‘Near-Death Activated Quirk’ But-“ He met Bakugou Katsukis horrified red eyes. “Some people need to learn there are consequences.”

Pain ripped through him like someone ripping him off something like he was tape. “That’s not fair!!” Shikamare wasn’t speaking. “It’s my quirk!! It’s my decision to tell!”

Midoriya panted with exertion, head hanging low as he hunched in on himself. Shikamaru and Sawada were surprised. Midoriya ripped back control, for the second time even though they hadn’t figured out willful switching.

Shikamaru felt no remorse though. Problems don’t get solved if no one knows they exist. Though, it might be more accurate to say no one was acknowledging this problem.

A small, fuzzy paw laid over Midoriya’s clenched, shaking fist. “Midoriya.” His voice was soft, nothing like that false pleasantry from before. “Did you die today during the battle simulation?” His voice held no judgement, only calm and compassionate understanding.

Midoriya choked on a sob and shoved his fist against his mouth.

The teachers seemed to take that as his confirmation. The animal sighed. Eraserhead muttered dark curses. Recovery girl threw a heavy blanket over Midoriya’s shoulders.

Shikamaru couldn’t see Bakugou. Midoriya refused to look at him.

“I take it you were aware of this, All Might? He is your successor.”

There was a cough, a wet sound, and then the skeleton with skin’s voice. “Yes. I discovered it the day I met Young Midoriya. It was the day he first activated his quirk.”

“I see. Has he activated any other time?” The animal asked.

“Not that I am aware of. And I trust Young Midoriya implicitly. I do not believe he activated it another time and did not tell me.”

“Hmmm. And what were the circumstances surrounding the first activation of his quirk?”

Midoriya sobbed again. Fat tears ran down his cheeks. Shikamaru still felt no remorse. But he did express sorrow at outing Midoriya’s quirk without warning and bringing back this darkness he had been moving away from.

“…Perhaps we should carry on this conversation another time.” All Might suggested.

They stopped with the questions for now. The teachers left to give Midoriya privacy, and to call Midoriya and Bakugou’s parents. When Midoriya finally calmed down, Recovery Girl gave him a whole cupful of gummy candies. She pulled the curtain around his bed and left Midoriya to rest.

They heard the door open and close, leaving him alone in his small curtain.

Midoriya laid on his side and stared tiredly at the white cloth blocking the rest of the room.

I’m not sorry. Shikamaru insisted.

….Yeah. I get it. Midoriya bodily heaved a heavy sigh. It…I guess it had to happen eventually. I just wasn’t planning on ripping it off like a band-aid.

Prolonging it wouldn’t have done any good. Sawada chimed in. And really, technically this is an important medical condition they need to be aware of, lest they assume you are under, say, the influence of a villain’s quirk.

I guess… A shadow fell across the curtain. It was tugged aside with surprising gentleness, just enough to permit Bakugou Katsuki entrance.

Joy. Shikamaru thought blandly.

Midoriya blinked slowly. “K-Kaaachan..?”

Bakugou wouldn’t look at them. His fists were clenched tight and he was shaking. Was he gonna explode again?

“Deku…” His voice was unsure, and still somehow angry. “You…Why didn’t you fucking tell me…?”

Green eyes blinked again. “….Tell you what?”

“That you had a fucking qurik!” Bakugou snapped. “That-That-Fuck! That you fucking died-! That you could only use your quirk when you fucking died! Fuck-! When the fuck did you even die?!” Bakugou raged and yelled, refusing to lift his head to meet Midoriya’s eyes.

Where once Midoriya was terrified of Bakugou’s yelling, now he couldn’t even muster up the energy. “What do you want me to say, Kaachan?” His voice had no inflection. “You barely gave me the time of day unless I was in your way. And Nara-san was right. I didn’t want anyone to know.” Shikamaru denied the guilt he felt when Midoriya clenched his fists tightly. “I didn’t want you or anyone in class to know. I didn’t want anyone to carry that weight if an accident happened, like today. Accidents are accidents. It’s just me anyways. It’s no big deal-“”BULLFUCKINGSHIT!” Bakugou roared, startling Midoriya out of the downward verbal spiral he didn’t realize he was in.

Bakugou’s head wrenched up. Shikamaru mirrored the shock Midoriya felt at the sight of tears in those red eyes. “I FUCKING KILLED YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING DEKU!! DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME IT’S NO BIG DEAL!!!” Bakugous fists shook with retrained rage. “Fuck!” The blond turned and lashed out at the wall, kicking it as hard of he could. “FUCK! OW!” He hopped a bit, holding his foot.

Midoriya pushed himself into a seated position. “Kaachan…” He said softly. Stilling the blond’s movements. “I…I didn’t really think you cared..”

Bakugou didn’t respond a moment. Then he turned and plopped himself on the bed beside Midoriya without so much as a may-I-please. He looked grumpy, upset, and unsure. “I…Fuck..I didn’t think I did either.” He grumbled. He was slumped. He looked as tired as Shikamaru, Midoriya, and Sawada felt. “But…”

Midoriya inhaled sharply when a warm hand closed over his own. “Even…Fuck, no matter how shitty and deku you  are….And even though you’re stupid and I don’t like you,” He seemed determined to add every insult he could. Shikamaru wanted to hit him. “I…I didn’t want you dead. I don’t want you dead…” I didn’t want to skill you went unsaid.

Ugh. Teenage emotions and hormones and stubbornness. Shikamaru thought he was free of this.

But he couldn’t deny that the warmth blossoming inside Midoriya didn’t make him happy.

Midoriya leaned against Bakugou, making him stiffen. “It’s okay.” He winced at the emotions Sawada and Shikamaru rapidly sent at him. “Er…well, no, it’s not okay.” He admitted. Bakugou looked at him, hurt and surprised. “It…You…You hurt me a lot, Kaachan.” He look a deep breath. Shikamaru and Sawada continuously offered strength and support. “I’m…I’m not really…I’m not well.” He admitted. Bakugou’s hand pulled away. Midoriya snatched it back. “But…But I’m seeing a therapist. I’m-I’m getting better. I’m healing.” He empathized. “So…It’s not okay now. But..But It’s getting better. I’m getting better.” He offered Bakugou a smile. “And…And even though I didn’t want it to be this way, hearing you say that really helps me. So thank you.”

Bakugou looked so young and painfully unsure in that one moment. Shikamaru still did NOT regret what he did. But, maybe Bakugou wasn’t completely an annoyingly stubborn raging teenage asshole.

“Nara-san says he’s sorry he was a jerk to you.” Midoriya offered with a pleasant smile.

Sawada snorted (how did someone mentally snort?!). That little- I did not!

Bakugou actually cracked a small smile that wasn’t crazy or smug. It looked out of place on his face. “Is he still in your head? Is he there permanently?”

Midoriya suddenly filled with excitement. Sawada felt fond exasperation. Shikamaru felt dread creep up. “Yes and no. Tsuna comes and goes, he was the first one, you haven’t met him, I don’t know if you ever will. I’m sure Nara-san will be able to too. He isn’t dead or anything. He has his own body and everything. It’s like- he went to sleep and suddenly he’s in my head. And these people, Tsuna at least, isns’t even from this dimension we don’t think!” Midoriya launched into a long-winded tangent filled explanation of all he had learned about his quirk.

Bakugou laughed, a wet and fond sound. “Breathe, nerd.”

Shikamaru had just wanted a nap, dammit.

Sooo her’e the next chapter. I have at least one more solid one coming. Vague ideas after that, but nothing solid.