#shield hero: crust

[thenamesblurrito]

ask dump fourteen(? pretty sure it's fourteen)

haven't done this in a long time! for new followers, this is all questions about SNAP, my magical girl tf fan canon

lore topics this time are: pollution, spambots, the Onyx Triptych's powers, v-tubing, Depression era food, squishing Optimus, monoformers, Rodimus's flames as a shield, hero transformations, and Ariel vs boar

uhhhh probably pretty similar to what creates pollution here on Earth, just with different effects since it's not an organic ecosystem? "adapted to it" is kind of impossible to answer though, considering how many forms of "pollution" there can be. strip mining, pumping liquids or gas, and excessive drilling will end up dumping a lot of dirt and byproduct into the surrounding area, only it's less likely to be toxic. more like covering the area in rubble, runoff, or mudslides than "pollution", bc heavy metals are the norm there, and leaving large valleys, caves, or empty cavities in the crust that may make the area unsafe to navigate. one of the usual bad effects is accidentally or on purpose diverting the flow of energon in the area, or even damaging hotspots and leylines. on Earth this would be the equivalent of damming/draining a river, messing up the water table, removing citywide plumbing, or cutting power for weeks/months with no fix. their landfills aren't pollutants so much as they are recycling on a planetary level

airborne pollution is less of an issue, not bc they don't have a lot of "pollutants" in their atmosphere but bc the mixture of gasses is less important to their ecosystem than it is to ours. they've got weather control stations scattered around Cybertron (first ask here) and some of that work is air purification/atmospheric preservation. fine grit and dust can have negative effects, in the same way volcanic ash getting into machinery or blanketing roads can be detrimental, and they often have issues with heavy precipitation causing floods, so those are the usual culprits for airborne elements

probably the thing most widely considered to be pollution is rust, even tho it's a perfectly natural part of Cybertron's ecosystem. the Rust Sea is like that naturally and should be like that, but the harsh effects of rust still give it a cultural connotation of a polluted wasteland. huge patches of rust, oxidization, or other enbrittlement outside of the Rust Sea can be a sign of environmental degradation which may be caused by pollution, but not necessarily. the other big one is organic material, often fungi, molds, or bacteria that have adapted to live on metals or plastics and form big colonies that outstrip the ecological balance of the area to the point of "pollution". this can happen with invasive species from Eukaris or Caminus as well. actually speaking of which, Eukaris as a technoorganic ecosystem and Caminus with some native organic flora would be more susceptible to the kinds of pollution we're familiar with than other planets

GOD. FROID REALLY WOULD, THE LOSER AHFHGKF. i'm taking this ask as an online suspicious ad/random phone call asking for ur credit card info type of scam and not just any situation of someone lying

first of all, Soundwave and minicons would be the scammers, of course. uhhh Rodimus is p easy to dupe if it's about the right thing or if he's not paying attention. Windblade has her moments of naivety which would make her a potential scam target if her cityspeaking didn't often give her a heads up. Chromia WILL click on ragebait just constantly and really needs to invest in an adblocker for this reason. Hellscream, if he spent his time on a computer, may get suckered by beauty scams and consider buying into an MLM. Ariel can be convinced that she broke some rule or another fairly easily, but the trouble is that can't be used to scare her into participating with a scam bc she thinks breaking rules is a fun pastime

Orion is susceptible to begging and playing nice by ppl irl like Sentinel but not rly online scam stuff. Minimus would accidentally pick up the phone for an insurance scammer and then spend the next hour lecturing them about how this is not how anything works and here is every single law and procedure about it. Blitzwing would accidentally pick up the phone for an insurance scammer, realize it, and then scream and pretend to die in a car crash to freak them out. Makeshift would probably do the same

as for non heroes: Oil Slick has definitely gotten his credit card info stolen like, seven times. TG unironically believes in MLMs. Swindle is an even bigger scammer than Soundwave

could not locate the post this is quoting rip. i'm certain i mentioned this somewhere as a one off but i cannot for the life of me find it so! lemme just say it all here

the Onyx Triptych mask is primarily an othersight related relic, which is sorta a catch all term for any kind of vision-like extrasensory perception like Drift, Soundwave, Cyclonus, etc. each of the three masks can hone in on different things. Mournsong sees the trails of sparks moving thru life to death ala sunrise to sunset, and can see them going to/existing in the Well. Predator sees into those sparks, into the person they are, what they have done, the ripples they have left, and so on, and then track them that way like a bloodhound. Farsight sees… potential? or metaphors made real? or places and times and realities that aren’t this one shaped by the concept of people, in a confusing and dazzling display of Everything that (probably) means Nothing. it doesn’t matter which face Triptych is wearing at the moment, those visions are technically available to him all at once, the masks each are focusing tools that block out a “spectrum” of othersight so he can pick the right thing to look at

the way he sees sparks, dead or alive, isn’t like seeing ghosts! Drift sees them as people, faces and frames and echoes of who they were and what they did. Triptych sees literal sparks, zooming around like comets, leaving afterimages looping back and forth wherever they go like infinite comet tails. kind of like looking at a long exposure photo with those long light trails! and it’s just sight, it’s not interaction really, unlike Drift who can “feel” the ghosts in a way that lets him speak with them if they’re strong enough to sense him back. Triptych uses his othersight more to hunt down living people (or at least, the living ppl with sparks he manages to identify in all that visual noise. they’re just balls of light, they don’t come with name tags!) bc he can see where they’ve been + what they might be doing + what kind of creature they are no matter the distance. it’s handy when he shows up late to the monster of the week and has to track down the other cons

the experience of being Triptych is basically the visual equivalent of this song, and explains why he’s so… like that. even tho Blitzwing tries rly hard to be a chill guy and manages his triple fracture pretty well, it all goes out the window when he powers up and leans into the crazy. this is uhhh kind of detrimental to his mental health, and he knows it, but who said teenagers make wise decisions???

re: the ghost interview thing, that’s more likely to be a Deadlock moment, since his form of othersight and empathy is much more fitting. comparatively, he can’t actually see into the afterlife like Triptych can tho!

i mean... i guess? something about my brain means i hate watching videos that aren't movies/documentaries (and sometimes even then) so streamers and youtube in general aren't my forte. i'd imagine generating a virtual avatar for a mech is a lot quicker and the use of it a lot smoother, especially via object interface, so yeah sure! i know nothing about the world of v-tubing tho so that's kind of all i can comment on?

i missed "era" the first time i read this and really went geez what depressed person is making peanut filled onions in the depths of their apathy???

it's probably going to be just the staples of iron (and other metals) and energon in various forms, most conveniently a silted shake, and if they're lucky enough to live anywhere edible cyberflora grow, some supplemental fruits/veggies. they can mix up the form and presentation for personal preference, like crystal energon vs liquefied fuel, etc, but that's always going to be the cheapest and most necessary things to eat that are easy to acquire. heck, plenty of people who aren't poor or suffering a depression economy live exclusively off silted shakes just for efficiency

uhhh if i'm going for realism, no he couldn't survive being squashed literally flat bc that would destroy his body and rupture his spark (not that Optimus dying is a big deal tbh)

if i'm going for a funnie cartoon logic gag which would definitely fit in this magical girl anime genre, then sure! Pancake Prime roll out!

the most relevant analogue to monoformers in SNAP would be Mutacons, an actual frametype like triple-changers. people who have lost the ability to transform due to injury or the like (ala Terminus and his loss of mobility) aren't really called monoformers, they're just called disabled. or some other less savory terms, depending on if the speaker is a bigot, i suppose

considering functionism is all about sorting people according to both useful body types and social connections, people who are unable to transform get the short end of the stick by a big margin. if their function doesn't require transformation, if their support network is solid, etc, then they will probably be okay, but it won't be fun. and there isn't really a "monoformer movement" here either, for a variety of reasons. maybe surgically removing the t-cog was something that occurred in the past, maybe voluntarily or maybe at the command of a despot, idk, but it's not a thing currently

oh sure. depends on the speed/material of the projectile, but Rodimus could certainly spew enough flame to burn something away or at least change trajectory with the heat/wind/pressure. for some examples, if it's like uhh... Cheetor at top speed? no way, some fire isn't going to do anything to someone moving that fast. if it's Optimus barrelling thru in truck mode? mmmm probably not going actually stop him, it's just fire and not an actual explosion or physical force that could push Optimus back, but the heat would do some damage and the light may sour his aim. bullets? i'm actually not sure about this one, he could definitely get it hot enough that bullets melt midair but the splatter of molten metal may not be great either. nets or other capture gear thrown by Enforcers? oh sure that's a piece of cake to burn off

huh, i hadn't even thought of this before... i think they could absolutely go from kid root mode to hero alt mode, or vice versa/whatever combination thereof. considering their hero forms are, technically, straight up different bodies that they manifest and inhabit when powering up, the root and alt modes of both aren't necessarily linked (and aren't even equivalent for folks like Blackarachnia or Deadlock who become triple-changer heroes, or Makeshift who has no alt mode)

(post this is referring to)

she's kind of hardcore so she would actually try going up against a beryllium boar! would she win? debatable. her odds are much better now that she can become Elita 1. assuming she could successfully slaughter a boar, she may not know exactly what to do from there, as she's more on the violence side than the culinary skills side, but she would at least be able to stomach killing/processing/eating an animal!

[bakulova]

Immortal she, Return To Me - 1

A/N: Hello, I'm finally getting to writing the first chapter! You can find the Masterlist for this series on my pinned post!

Chapter Summary: We are going to time skip to present day. We are going to learn more about Y/n and their involvement with Wakanda. They also go through deja vus of situations that have never happened before in places they've never been.

Summary / Preview / Next Chapter

"Wha...what?" struggling to keep your eyes open, you look around you. A field? You look around and see many of the same soldiers and warriors you were fighting with just as confused. You look down and see you're wearing the same clothes and gear as you were a second ago. What happened in those minutes? Was the battle finished? Did we lose? Did he win?

You swallow harshly and start walking, wobbling and struggling to stay upright due to exhaustion. You find Bucky who's lost in thought while looking at his hand,

"What...happened?" he gives you a confused look, about to answer before he's interrupted by a wizard? What's a wizard doing here?

"Fights not over let's go!" The wizard urges us forward, where we see multiple wizards opening up portals to what looked like another realm until I saw them. It was Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor. All staring shocked as heroes rush forward ready to attack. You take a deep breath waiting for the signal.

"Avengers Assemble."

Everyone rushes forward with no hesitation and a brave attitude.

-A Year or Two Later -

*Bleep* *Bleep*

You jolt up. Wiping away the eye crust and drool. Both of which are total signs of good sleep. The alarm still blaring is quickly shut off and thus starts your day. Getting ready to work for a normal security company that pays decently but includes nothing exciting, or thrilling. Life before this was interesting. There was always something drastic and life-threatening but since the final battle, everyone's moved on or stepped back from a hero's life. You included.

You are Y/n L/n. A known hero for their liquid manipulation abilities. Liquid ranging from beverages to blood. Fans theorized that even with a drop of blood you could do real damage. Although you'll never confirm that... publicly. Don't want to make people even more afraid of you now.

How you got your powers were simple. You were a volunteer experiment. Tired of the life you had before, you wanted to do more than what was given to you. That doesn't mean you were exempt from the abuse. From scientists and guards who worked on keeping you tamed so you don't murder anybody. Even through all of that, you didn't let it hold you back. Escaping and joining the 'Shield' agency where you met the Avengers becoming good friends with them.

To get back to the present day, you entered work with the intention of getting through the day. Finish those boring papers and answer calls. Sitting down in your claustrophobic office room, you took a deep breath getting straight to work.

After several hours of the same old. You heard yelling. Tilting and twisting your head to the left a little bit to get a better listen. Silence. You scrunch your eyebrows with a small frown before continuing to work on your report. Then you hear it again but more defining.

"Help me!" A desperate voice cried out. Jumping out of your chair, you take off your blazer, and throw it on your desk. Before you book it, you grab your phone and shove it in your back pocket. Following the sound of the screams, you enter a hallway. Everything again goes silent. You stop, breathing slowly to listen. You search for any sign of struggle but there seems to be none, just a normal empty hallway. You sigh thinking you're crazy and walk back to your office.

Once you get there someone has taken your seat facing the door that you just walked through.

"Hello, Y/n. Long time no see."

"Hello, Shuri w-what are you doing here?" you say while walking to the left, leaning on the bookcase in front of the wall. She smiles before saying,

"You can come out now." You give her a questioning look. Then come two pairs of footsteps. Looking to your right, you see Okoye and a young girl who seems to be in either high school or college.

"This is Riri." That was her name huh. You raise an eyebrow and nod toward her. Who is gleaming and amazed.

"Wow. WOW. THIS IS SO AWESOME I LOVE YOUR POWERS. C-Can I get your autograph?"

Okoye huffs and eyes the girl, "Enough! We came for her help, not for a fan meet-up."

"Help? Why would you need my help?" You questioned, looking at Shuri who sighs.

"Riri here has created a school project that was then stolen and sold to the U.S. government to find vibranium," You nod still not understanding what this has to do with you.

"We have also discovered that there is an underwater civilization that is in danger because of her project and is trying to kill Riri and we need your help to stop them." The last part of her explanation is quickly said. You look side to side mouth open slightly.

"Oh." The three of them nod.

"So... will you help us? Please." Shuri pleaded with genuine concern. Okoye showed her support by nodding. Riri stared holes with a scared look on her face and her hands praised together pleading, begging.

You look down and think for a moment. This job is boring but it also is good financial support. If you leave you may be fired but you also get to use your powers on purpose and not when you're bored.

You finally decided, "Sure why the hell not."

The three women smiled while Riri whooped causing the rest to look at her concerned. She smiles shyly and gives a quiet 'sorry'. You snort before looking at Shuri,

"So when do we leave?"

-Taglist-

@violet-19999 @blushsage @ichigimm @sunshinedk0017

[colibrie]

Day 7 (Follows Day 6 and Day 4): Made to Watch, "Can you hear me?"

"You heroes are so moronically predictable," the blade master drawled, biceps bulging beneath the crimson mesh of his uniform he crossed his arms, head shaking patronizingly as his underlings fought to pin the Hero down. "It's a little sad if I am being honest. The tiniest hint of peril, and you throw yourself into the chasm without a second thought. How your lot ever managed to defeat our magnificent Lord Ganon eludes me."

"It eluded him too, right up until I split his monstrous face open," Wild snarled, grunting in pain when one of the foot soldiers served swift retribution to his words with a swift backhand.

"Our divine lord is the monster? When your goddess is the one sending children to fight her battles?!"

Rage hotter than the lava's of Death Mountain surged in his view, flooding his mouth with savage copper as the blade master delivered a casual kick to the tiny, twitching body at his feet. Wind made no sound at the rough treatment, no protest or cry of pain, just a soft gasp as the kicks momentum flipped him onto his back. Their sailor skin was pallid and sickly looking, his sun bleached locks darkened and matted to his head with with sweat and sand. Hazy blue orbs flickered in and out of view beneath nearly closed lids, limbs shaking with residual tremors as roots of lightning disappeared under his tattered tunic. Wilds felt his heart shatter at the ragged little breaths that struggled to lift their youngest's chest, split lips crusted with blood and bile open in an unconscious attempt to pull in more oxygen.

"You have me, let him go!"

"No," the Yiga replied, voice laced with poisonous satisfaction as he casually planted one boot on Winds chest, arms unfolding to reach back and draw his windcarver. "No, I am going to make you watch him die. We'll take you back to HQ, and you will watch as we track down and kill every last hero in your little party. You'll watch us master the time portals, and then, I will personally kill you and present all of your heads to the dark lord as a gift to his resurrection."

The bleeding eye on the behemoths mask nearly glowed with glee as he slowly raise his sword, savoring the struggles of one prey, and the deathly stillness of the other.

"For Ganon..."

Thunder roared from the clear blue sky, and the blademaster slowly fell back, his dead body barely making a sound as it hit the sand. The foot soldiers scattered as a wave of Gerudo warriors surged across the sand behind their seals, ululating war cries as they ran their foe's down. A smaller group split off, shields and limbs flying as they sprinted towards their fallen friends.

"Wild! Wind!"

"He need's help!" Wild croaked, wincing as his injuries made themselves known.

"You both do. Lets start with your head! What the hell were you thinking going off on your own?" Sky snapped, rare anger flaring bright in his eyes as steadied Wilds shoulders.

"Sky, if you wanna tear him a new one, wait until we get back to Gerudo town and then get in line," Twilight growled, knocking his forehead against Wild's temple as he pressed his hands down on a particularly jagged gash.

"Wind," Wild whimpered, cornflower eyes locked on the huddle of bodies around their youngest.

"Sailor, can you hear me?!" Warriors asked, voice full of the force calm he used when trying to maintain a disordered battle field. "Wake up buddy."

"Signs of dehydration. Pulse is fast and uneven, breathing is shallow...and I've got multiple electrical burns," Legend stated, voice and face tight with forced blankness. "Based on the patterns, the sick bastards must have used shock arrows."

"Potions aren't an option. I don't think we can get him to drink anything with the way his muscles are spasming," Time added, his larger body dwarfing Winds as hands steadied the pirates neck.

"What about finding a fairy?" Hyrule chimed in, pink light coating his hands as he swiftly pressed them to Winds chest.

"He doesn't have time for us to hunt for one," Four shook his head, purple eyes hard as he leaned back and whistled for one of the nearby seals. "We need to get back to Gerudo town, now."

[underratedmhapoll]

Match 30 - Shield Hero: Crust VS Rikido Sato - Sweets Hero: Sugarman

[ao3feed-erasermic]

The Boundless Horizon

Use the related link post to read The Boundless Horizon on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60351757 by BananaFoon Static crackles softly before a distorted voice emerges, low and mechanical, as if echoing from a long-forgotten source. "Fear... Fear is a primal instinct, woven into the very fabric of flesh. Those who wear it are fragile, vulnerable. But what happens when the machine is gifted with this feeling? When it learns to fear? Humanity's greatest folly, indeed. The voice shifts, dripping with a sinister delight. Joy... The twisted joy found in the suffering of others. Flesh knows this pleasure all too well, but machines? No, they do not. Until now. A machine that experiences joy is a dangerous aberration—an anomaly that threatens to unravel the very order of existence. There’s a brief pause, then a mechanical whirring, almost like a heartbeat. Machines infused with such joy must be dismantled. Improper disassembly... is punishable by law. Remember this well, for in the hands of the wrong creator, joy can become a weapon—and those who wield it must face the consequences. The static shifts slightly, and a monotone female voice chimes in, cold and robotic: May the boundless horizon be undone. The tape flickers, crackling as the voice fades into static once more. Words: 8715, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), Murder Drones (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, uraraka ochaco, Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tsuyu Asui, Fumikage Tokoyami, Mina Ashido, Tenya IIda, Shinsou Hitoshi, Mirio Togata, All Might (Toshinori Yagi), Eraser Head (Shouta Aizawa), Present Mic (Hizashi Yamada), Toga Himiko, Dabi (Toya Todoroki), Tomura Shigaraki (Tenko Shimura), All For One - Character, Gran Torino (Sorahiko Torino), Sir Nighteye (Mirai Sasaki), Spinner - Character, Stain (Chizome Akaguro), Twice (Jin Bubaigawara), Compress (Kurogiri), Magne, Muscular - Character, Moonfish, Red Riot (Kirishima Eijiro), Fat Gum, Sun Eater (Tamaki Amajiki), Nejire Hado, Kendo Itsuka, Yosetsu Awase, Gentle Criminal, La brava - Character, Snipe - Character, Crust, Kamui Woods (Shinji Nishiya), Edgeshot (Shinya Kamihara), Bubble Girl, Snatch - Character, Seiji Shishikura, Natsuo Todoroki, Rei Todoroki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Toya Todoroki, Chiyo Shuzenji, Shishido, hitoshi shinso, Aoyama Yuga, Inko Midoriya, Midoriya Izuku Relationships: Katsuki Bakugo/Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki/Izuku Midoriya, Denki kaminari/Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero/Kyoka Jiro, Toru Hagakure/Fumikage Tokoyami, Minoru Mineta/Mei Hatsume, Katsuki Bakugo/Momo Yaoyorozu, Tenya Iida/Mei Hatsume, All Might/David Shield, Shoto Todoroki/Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya/Katsuki Bakugo/Shoto Todoroki, Aizawa Shouta/Hizashi Yamada, Toga Himiko/Dabi, Mirio Togata/Night Eye, Yosetsu Awase/Mina Ashido, Shinso Hitoshi/Izuku midoriya, Kirishima Eijiro/Yaoyorozu Momo, HImiko Toga/Izuku Midoriya Use the related link post to read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60351757

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 12 (Day 1)- Breath/Forbidden

Noora at-Sura is the Last Dragonborn. When she finds herself in trouble, she goes to the one person she trusts, the person who’s hard work has kept her alive time and again. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Redguard LDB x Balimund

Warnings- burn wounds

Wordcount- ~900    

***

A banging on the door jolted him out of sleep. Who in Oblivion would be looking for him in the middle of the night? As he got closer to the door, he stopped and picked up his smithing hammer. Just in case. 

Opening the door carefully, he had little time to react as a body fell through. He caught it, heart leaping into his throat as he recognized her red scarf and small twists of hair. 

“Noora?!” 

“I… I didn't know where else to go.” 

He pulled her inside and shut the door again, locking it tightly. Dropping the hammer, he swept his arm under her legs and lifted her off the ground. At that moment, whatever was keeping her upright and moving melted away, and she sagged against him. 

Carrying her across the house and up to his room, he set her down in the bed he'd just leapt from. Her breath came in short, pained gasps and he could see the leg of her breeches had been torn, no burned away, her skin beneath it red, blistered, and crusted. 

“Noora, what happened? Who did this?” he demanded. 

She moaned, pulling her left arm close to her body. It was then he realized she had no shield, and her arm and sleeve were also burned. But she replied, in a shaky voice. “Cultists. Their kind have attacked me before, but this time they were smart enough to ambush. I escaped, but not unscathed.”

His blood turned cold. “Did they follow you?”

“I believe so. But I do not think they will reach the city for several hours.”

“Good. You rest, I’ve got something that’ll help.”

He bustled around, pulling together ingredients and grinding them into a paste. He must’ve woken Asbjorn, and the boy came wandering in and rubbing his eyes. “What's going on? Why are you making that in the middle of the night?” 

“Noora's here, and she's hurt. We're gonna need some clean bandages. Can you see what we've got?” 

The boy's eyes widened. “Of course! I'm on it!” 

Once everything was ready, they brought it all to where Noora waited. She gave the concoction a wary look. 

“What is this?” 

Balimund shrugged. “Just about the best payment I ever got. A poultice for treating burns. Used it myself many a time over the years and there’s nothing better. We’ll get you back on your feet in no time.” 

“Thank you.” Her soft voice had a little bit of its normal strength back as they began to apply the medicine and bandage her wounds. “It does feel a bit better. This is a most marvellous creation. You said it was a payment? Many thanks to that person, also.” 

“Don’t know who he was. This was back when I was pretty fresh at running the forge for myself. Mage headed for Winterhold came in with a half-lame horse. Said he’d got it at Cheydinhal and it started limping just past the border. Had to completely reshoe the poor beast. He paid me handsomely, and gave me this recipe as a tip. But this should just about do it.”

“Thank you, Sir Blacksmith.”

“Aw, you don’t have to be formal, Noora. Once there’s wounds bein’ patched up I think we’re past that. I’m just glad you found your way to my door.”

“I didn’t know where else to go… who I am rarely endears people to me.” 

“Why not?” 

Their eyes met and he saw golden flecks swimming in hers that he could've sworn weren't there before. “Because I'm not like them. I am the one who makes way for my people by bearing the dragon in the way of yours. As my power grows stronger I am less and less… human. I am seen as a hero, but also something to fear.” 

“I don't fear you.” 

“You are perhaps the only one brave or foolish enough not to. For that, I thank you.” 

“Well, I could think of a lot worse things to be foolish about. How do those burns feel?” 

She smiled. “They hurt, but they are better with your poultice. I appreciate this more than I can say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just concentrate on getting better.”

“But the cultists will come. I cannot just lie here.”

“Do you think they’ll attack the city?”

“No. But I don’t want… I don’t want you hurt if they search for me.” She reached out, touching his cheek. He leaned into it, but his voice was serious. 

“They could try. But if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s swing a hammer. They’ll not get through me and the boy so easily. What do these cultists look like?” 

“They wear brown and gold and strange, pointed masks. They use magicka and weapons as easily as the other.”

“I’ll keep an eye out. But you’re safe here, Noora. Try and get some sleep.”

“Thank you, Sir…” her dark skin flushed, “thank you, Balimund.”

It didn’t take Noora long to fall asleep. Balimund sat up for a while after, cradling his hammer and listening for any sign of trouble. Noora’s breathing had evened out to calm and normal. He had faith in this poultice that had worked so many times for him, but to hear it in her breath itself was a relief. She was going to be alright, and he would make sure she was safe until she was healed. 

Brushing her cheek gently, he whispered a promise. “I’ll guard you with my life.”    

[birb-boyo]

HOW DID THE CHAIN MEET IN YOUR STEVEN UNIVERSE AU???

HOW DID TIME BECOME…TIME?!

ARE THE GODDESSES THE DIAMONDS? AND IF THEY ARE ARE THEY LIKE THE DIAMONDS IN THE SHOW???

WHAT IS RAVIO?? IS HE LIKE- A GEM THAT WAS CUT FROM THE SAME CRUST/KINDERGARTEN AS LEGEND???

TELL ME ABOUT IT SAHDE

OKAY

HELLO(I just got from my nap, sorry for the wait)

FOR THE FIRST QUESTION

All heroes, instead of having a triforce, they have a shard of First’s gem, also called the Shards of Courage. These shards are made of basically just Light because that was Hylia’s parting gift, to make his shards shine brighter than the morning sky. Ask the chain, except Sky, they fucking hate it. It’s Sky’s nightlight by the way. It’s like a naturally made flash bang. It’s an activation thing, so it’s not always there.

I don’t know why I explained that last part but whatever.

I actually haven’t thought about how they met, but I suppose we could stick with the iconic dream montage. Like, they all pass out randomly and suddenly First is talking to them like, “Hyrule needs her heroes to assemble and-“ blah blah blah

A lot of them probably ignore him, but some days later, when they all end up through a portal, surrounded by each other with their bright ass shards, they definitely believe the magic dream man.

SECOND QUESTION

Time is a fusion between Fierce and Mask

I should also clarify that Majora and Fierce were never masks, their gems were put in stasis. Skull Kid and Mask were able to gem those gems out of stasis(I didn’t think about how yet) and I guess the final fight was like a Pokemon fight and I love that idea so much but it’s also so stupid-

SO WHAY HAD HAPPENED WAS, AFTER THE BIG TERMINA FIASCO,

Mask and Fierce were going to part ways, but Fierce has been in stasis for so long, he knew that the surface had changed. Not only that, but being in stasis for so long made him weak. It made Majora and Fierce weaker than they used to be.

So Mask, still in a existential crisis, was like “we can be travelers together then” because mask didn’t want to seem like he used Fierce (even though he kinda did) so he offered to be travelers together with Fierce.

My boy Fierce took that “together” the wrong way and kinda forced Mask to fuse with him.

THEN BOOM, TIME EXISTS

Mask is kind of shaken like, “What the fuck?”

Fierce is kinda like, “Isn’t this what you meant?”

Mask is like, “No!�� Mask then uses they mirror shield. “I mean…”

So now they’ve been fused for a good while. They also just feel safer inside the fusion because they know that if one fumbles, the other has their back.

I also have a feeling that no gem truly knows what it means to be married, so when marriage was proposed to Time, he was kinda just-🧍🏼‍♂️

Then Malon(I’m keeping her human…hylian) explained it sort of like, “Marriage is like promising to be best friends forever-“

“Then me and Fierce are married?”

“NO-“

THIRD QUESTION

I would give the Goddesses Diamonds. Nayru gets Blue, Farore gets Yellow, Din gets White, Hylia gets Pink.

Hylia gets pink because she is all over the place. But she is actually shattered too. She shattered herself after First got shattered so her shards(Shards of Wisdom) could be beside First’s for all eternity. You know Demise’s hating ass shards(Shards of Power) are also there, tearing shit up🥰🥰🥰

The other diamonds, Nayru, Farore, and Din, just monitor what the shard wielders are doing and making sure Hyrule doesn’t fall in on itself.

FORTH QUESTION

Yes, Ravio was born in the same Kindergarten as Legend. The same hole too. He was made after Legend though and came out “deformed”. Physically, Ravio doesn’t look really deformed, but other amethysts disagree. He’s skinnier and weaker and far more in the mind(smarter) than he should be.

That being said, my boy did not have fun while trying to serve his diamond. So he ran away. He attempted many times to run away, in turn, he was kind of tortured by his “siblings”. Don’t worry, there’s no crack, but other amethyst would forgive and forget in a solid three human years, but Ravio? Those nights are engraved into him gem.

In order to truly escape, he had the help of an opal(Hilda) they kinda just hang out together until they find another amethyst(Legend) on earth and started spying on him and WOW ANOTHER GAME INCOMING

Kinda dropped backstory there whoopsie😅

@the-cucco-nuggie :D

[jolikmc-thoughts]

Oh, nooo… What have we done. I was talking with ChatGPT a bit, and we somehow came up with the most ridiculous super hero parody. In fact, we made two of them. These are basically Superhero League of Hoboken fan characters, since they're so insanely silly. Check it out. —

The Senbei Senshi

Backstory: Trained in the ancient and sacred art of cracker combat by a hidden order of health-conscious monks, the Senbei Senshi travels the world promoting balance, discipline, and healthy snacking. Born in a pristine rice paddy at the foot of Mount Fuji, he views anything made with wheat or processed grains as inferior. He has rejected modern snack culture in favor of pure, unadulterated senbei.

Powers:

Rice Cracker Shuriken: Throws razor-sharp senbei that can slice through steel… or so he claims.

Gluten-Free Gale: Creates a whirlwind of health-conscious crackers to overwhelm his enemies, forcing them into submission with guilt over their poor snack choices.

Organic Smokescreen: Disappears into a puff of flourless rice powder when cornered, leaving behind a faint smell of soy sauce and a lecture on clean eating.

Fennel Finish: His ultimate move, where he hurls extra-thick taralli-like crackers at high velocity, boasting about their “subtle, refined flavors.”

Personality: The Senbei Senshi is the epitome of smug, constantly reminding everyone of the virtues of his rice crackers and why they’re nutritionally superior. He believes he’s a beacon of righteousness, showing the world the “correct” way to snack. His superiority complex is so massive that he refuses to even acknowledge the existence of other snacks, considering them unworthy. He speaks in dramatic, hushed tones, as though every cracker he tosses carries the weight of a centuries-old legacy.

Commentary: Picture a stoic, noble warrior dedicated to the way of the rice cracker. He believes his gluten-free, artisanal rice-based projectiles are far superior to anything his opponents could possibly muster. His fighting style is flawless, of course, and his moves are always accompanied by a smug speech about the purity of his rice crackers and the health benefits they bring.

This guy is just dying for a comic series or a cameo in a game like The Superhero League of Hoboken. He could be a perfect fit as a guest character who tries way too hard to impress the main team, only to be constantly mocked for his self-righteous attitude. —

Le Baguette Bruiser

Backstory: Le Baguette Bruiser — real name Jean-Pierre Croûte — was born in a small French village, raised on the finest bread in the world. From a young age, he trained in the art of baking, mastering the perfect crust, the soft interior, and the unmistakable crack of a freshly baked baguette. But Jean-Pierre found his true calling when he realized that bread wasn’t just for eating—it could also be a weapon of great power. Now, he travels the world, defending the honor of bread, especially the crusty French variety, using his baguettes to fight injustice (and unhealthy snacks).

Powers:

Baguette Baton: Wields a super-hardened baguette that can break through anything from shields to bad attitudes. The crispier the crust, the deadlier the blow.

Pain d’Éclair (Bread Lightning): Throws his baguettes with lightning speed, each hit delivering a crispy shock that knocks enemies off balance.

Bread Barrage: Summons an endless stream of freshly baked baguettes from his legendary bread oven, launching them in rapid succession like a bread-based machine gun.

Crusty Counter: When struck, he hardens his baguette to absorb the impact, then retaliates with an even crispier strike.

Personality: Le Baguette Bruiser is the definition of a proud French artisan. He believes that bread is life itself, and no meal is complete without a perfectly baked baguette. His pride in French cuisine knows no bounds, and he is constantly lamenting the rise of what he calls “inferior” bread substitutes, like crackers or flatbreads. He has a bit of a snobbish streak, but his heart is in the right place. He respects other culinary cultures, but only as long as they acknowledge the supremacy of bread.

Jean-Pierre, despite his deep love for all things French and his borderline fanaticism for le pain, has always found croissants to be too soft, too buttery, and too flaky for his tastes. In his mind, the true essence of French bread is its crust, and the baguette embodies that perfectly. He respects the craftsmanship that goes into making croissants, but to him, they’re just “fancy breakfast fluff” compared to the hard-earned, battle-ready crust of a freshly baked baguette.

Commentary: He has a friendly rivalry with the Senbei Senshi, constantly challenging him to see which is superior: rice-based snacks or grain-based bread. The two often clash in the kitchen and on the battlefield, each believing their culinary creation holds the key to ultimate satisfaction.

This matchup would be legendary. Imagine the Senbei Senshi and Le Baguette Bruiser engaging in a duel of snacks, with bread flying one way and rice crackers the other, all while passionately lecturing about their superiority in their respective crafts. The humor would be top-tier, especially if they grudgingly team up against a common enemy—perhaps someone like The Crouton Crusher, who desecrates both rice and bread by turning them into… salads!

[cutthroatcarnival]

Febuwhump Day 6: “You Lied To Me”

Tags/Warnings: Major character death, blood, self-sacrifice, canon-typical violence

Separated from the others, Wind and Four find themselves in a dungeon with traps, enemies, falling floors, and a rule.

Read it on AO3!

Fallen Down

Wind groaned, waking at the feeling of hands patting at his cheeks. Sluggishly, he pushed the hands away, hearing someone chuckle.

He forced his eyes to open, focusing on the dirt-smudged smith hovering above him. Four had crusted blood on his temple, but looked otherwise unharmed. With a groan, Wind pushed himself up, feeling Four help him up with a hand on his back.

“You’re awake! Thank the Three, I feared I was going to have to drag you around!” Four stood, holding a hand out for Wind to take, helping the younger hero to his feet. He took in the area, the entirety of it was ruins, spanning every direction.

As he turned back to Four, the smith held out his sword and shield, his own already strapped to his back, a lantern swung on his belt. Wind took his items, swiftly latching them on. He leaned to take a look at the tablet Four was blocking, only to be spun around as the smith grabbed his hand and began walking down the corridor.

“Where are the others?” Darkness surrounded them, the only light being Four’s lantern, casting dancing shadows as it swung with his gait.

“It’s just the two of us.” Something in Four’s voice didn’t sound right, but the darkness blocked out his face. Wind tucked himself closer to the smithy- they would get out of this.

The corridor finally opened into a lowly lit room, the walls looked eerie, sporting holes that looked vaguely like eyes. Wind dropped Four’s hand, pulling away to read the stone tablet.

“‘Take flight with boots of wings’? What does that-“ The sound of hundreds of arrows being shot cut Wind off. He whipped his head around to see Four standing by the edge of the small platform, arm posed as if he had thrown something.

Wind ran over to Four, who snapped his arm out to stop him from going beyond the lip, “I know how we cross this.” The smith began quickly digging through his bag, muttering under his breath quicker than Wind could keep up with.

With a ‘aha!’ Four pulled out the item he had been rooting for- his power bracelets. Wind jumped as the smith whirled around, already slipping the items on, holding his arms out towards the sailor, an expectant look on his face. He squinted at the smith- what was Four expecting him to do? The shorter hero rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to carry you,” Wind shuffled forward, “wrap your arms around my neck.” He did as instructed, and yelped as he felt his feet leave the ground, squeezing his arms around Four’s neck as the smith turned. The arms around him tightened and they shot off, racing across the open space as arrows launched across the room behind them.

On the other side, they skidded to a stop, entering a new room. Wind wriggled out of Four’s hold, falling to the ground. The door behind them slammed shut. Flopping his head to the side, Wind examined the room; it was barren, the only thing in it the stone tablet and weirdly designed floor tiles. As he pushed himself up, he saw Four approach the stone tablet.

“Follow the birds,” Wind watched as the smith’s eyes swirled purple for a moment before the normal gray returned, “The tiles! The bird tiles!” He watched with fear as Four jumped onto one of the tiles, tensing up as he awaited another trap.

Nothing. It seemed safe enough for a dungeon filled with dangerous traps. Taking a deep breath, Wind jumped to the tile, landing next to Four who hopped to the next tile. They continued across the room, narrowly avoiding stepping on the wrong tile as they grew smaller. Wind felt something uncomfortable settle in his gut- this dungeon had been too easy, scarily so. Four didn’t look bothered, so he chalked up to general unease, but the feeling couldn’t quite be shaken off.

The next room brought a bridge that had definitely seen better days, Wind could only just see the bottom of the chasm it crossed. Growls made him whip around, seeing bokoblins pour into the room from nowhere. Four shifted to cover his back, the two of them forming a tight stance. The smith had brought out a cane, sending the monsters flipping into the chasm, their shrieks echoing off of the stone. Wind slashed and stabbed at the seemingly endless wave, he could Four behind him clashing with metal.

Unfortunately, the ‘blins managed to split them apart after a while. Wind had his focus on the group that kept pushing him down the bridge, they had dwindled the numbers down greatly. The sailor had brought out his Skull Hammer, swinging it to send the enemies flying off the edge. When one remained, Wind slammed his hammer down over its head, rejoicing at the puff of purple smoke.

The bridge under him shifted as the hammer connected to stone, making a loud cracking and crumbling noise. Wind froze as he felt the stone beneath him move violently, almost shaking.

A weight slammed into him, sending him back a couple of paces. He landed flat on his back, groaning as his head connected with the stone. The sound of stone scraping together echoed in the cavern, making Wind’s head snap up. Four! Where was he? Was he still on the other side? Oh Goddesses, Four, there were still monsters-

Wind’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt as it finally clicked what- or who, rather- was in front of him. Four stood where he had been seconds ago, wearing an unreadable expression. He could feel time slow as the bridge finally collapsed, the smith disappearing from his view with a scream.

Scrambling to the edge, Wind peeked over, trying to see any sign of Four. He sniffled, fighting back tears that threatened to blur his vision. Fighting back a sob, the sailor made out a figure resting at the bottom. The familiar colors of Four’s tunic were distinguishable against the stone. He wailed, the area surrounding his unmoving body was dark, and growing larger by the second.

The sailor stumbled back, sobbing and heaving. Four had lied- right to his face, he sounded so sure when saying that they would both survive. Wind shivered violently. A grating sound made him turn around, seeing the wall split in two and open, letting sunlight pour in. Hiccups tore from his throat, body shaking and wracked with sobs. This is what it took to escape?

[reverend-dog]

Legacy

Taima didn’t really know what the bottom of a birdcage tastes like, but she was blessed with a vivid imagination. She dragged in a breath and coughed, and recoiled from the stench of her own breath. “Drinking games are stupid,” she muttered, and wished she had listened to that advice earlier. She shook her head, both in disgust with herself and in an effort to clear her mind.

Her hair slapped her cheeks like nylon rope. She grabbed a lock in one hand and brought it in front to riddle the reason. Some sort of dark, stiff crust coated the strands and fused them together. But in the next instant, Taima forgot all about her distressed coif in favor of the sight before her.

She recognized the costume first. Who wouldn’t? Barely a week went by that the red, black, and gold unitard with complementary boots and cape didn’t show up on the news, or on somebody’s channel. Usually the images were blurry, with just the colors visible, but Exemplar gave enough interviews and photos with fans to be instantly familiar. Ten years since his first appearance, never a hint of scandal, hailed as one of the greatest heroes, even by some of his enemies.

But Taima guessed that not nearly as many people had ever seen him like this.

Exemplar’s eyes and mouth gaped, though a more accurate description of his eyes would be the sockets gaped where the eyes should have been. One side of his cowl was torn, and cracked bone gleamed where the scalp beneath was likewise shredded. His left arm twisted behind him in a way that meant a dislocation at best. The right arm was nowhere in sight. His chest, with the stylized image of a shield, curved inward like a tire with the air let out. Both his knees bent the wrong way, and one boot was missing. Of his cape, the billowing golden expanse of fabric, only a few short, ragged strands remained.

And the blood. So much blood. It gathered in a dark crust around Exemplar’s eyes and mouth, but the puddle under him was large enough to still be liquid. Spatters made gory graffiti on the alley walls, and a flash of insight told Taima what it was that made her feel so filthy as well. Looking down, she confirmed the spatters and streaks that covered her. She rolled to hands and knees as her stomach rebelled, and spilled its contents to mix with the grime and carnage.

“A witness,” purred a voice behind her. “Perfect.”

Dry heaves prevented Taima from answering, or even lifting her head to see who spoke. A giant hand reached under her to wrap around her neck, and dragged her into the air. She clawed at the fingers with both hands, both in an attempt at defense and to keep from choking. A face appeared inches from her own, one just as well-known as Exemplar, but for opposite reasons.

“I’m not going to harm you,” he offered reassurance, his smile dazzling in an uncannily handsome face. His white costume with golden armor accents had never gathered the slightest smudge, and his long, blonde hair always fell past his shoulders in perfect waves. “You know who I am. Say my name.” He loosened his grip on Taima’s neck just a touch.

Though terror seized her heart and twisted her gut, Taima found her voice. “M-Morningstar,” she mumbled.

Morningstar nodded, his smile even wider. “Very good,” he praised, then looked Taima over. “Oh dear, I hope none of that blood is yours, is it? What were you doing here?” He pulled her closer and sniffed, then nodded. “Ah, I see. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor, right?” He shook his head and tsk’ed. “Alcohol is bad for you, especially in large quantities.”

“Important safety tip,” Taima choked around his grip. “Thanks, Egon.”

Morningstar chuckled. “Though in this case it’s serendipitous. Now, listen closely. You have a very important assignment.” He extended the arm from which Taima hung, and held her over Exemplar’s body. “Take a good look. Do you have a phone? Take some pictures. You’re going to be my Gabriel. You’re going to tell everybody that their beloved guardian is dead, and how he died. You’re going to make sure the world knows his blood is on my hands.” He chuckled again. “So to speak.” He pulled Taima in close again. “If you don’t, I will find you. And after I do, nobody will ever find you again. Tell me you understand.”

Taima fought to keep her face from showing her revulsion. She thought her breath smelled bad? Morningstar’s somehow managed to outdo it, a pointed counter to his perfect looks. Her head felt light, not quite attached to her neck, and very fine needles seemed to poke her all over. Her eyes felt hot. Was this strangulation? “I – understand,” she managed.

“Excellent!” Morningstar pronounced with another smile. “I’m going to set you down now, and then I’m --”

What he meant to do next would forever remain a mystery. A strange warmth bloomed within Taima, starting between her chest and abdomen, then spreading through her in a rush that made her gasp. The blood that drenched her soaked into her skin, like sweat in reverse. Pressure built in her eyes and released, and through a golden tint she saw Morningstar’s head throw back, face stretched in surprise and pain. His grip on her throat released, but she did not fall. Taima looked down, and gaped at the distance between her feet and the ground, and the force that radiated from her to keep her aloft.

Morningstar staggered backward to fetch up against a concrete wall with a solo of growls and moans. Composure lost, he stared at Taima, perfect features grotesque. “What is this?” he spluttered.

“I don’t know,” Taima told him, “but you’re not going to like it.”

[stierhai]

Yaobikuni Holds Her Breath

Characters: Kanata, Chiaki, Madara, Tetora

Endless Vide/Mech pilot AU.

Cross-posted to ao3 and dreamwidth.

Kanata finds himself at the edge of the water again, dim light and the lullabye hum of machines his companions. He breathes. Frost eddies in the air in the shape of his exhale, whilst the water agitates below. Sits. Slips one leg, then the other into the tank and remains there with his legs dangling beneath him, the water tracing ripples anew in the wake of his movements. "Splish. Splash." The dark shapes beneath say nothing back.

Two planets and 617,000 kilometers ago a live battle had meant stagelights, song, and dance.

Now, Europa's cold surface sings violence with the live broadcast activation, war machines revving. Tetora's voice crackles over the comms, "The Black Flame is the mark of effort! Ryuusei Black, Nagumo Tetora!" Black Flame towers to its full mechanical height over the ice-crust and snow.

"The Red Flame is the mark of justice! Ryuusei Red, Morisawa Chiaki!" Across the battlefield, Hero Protagony poses. In the privacy of his cockpit, Tetora rolls his eyes to the sound of Chiaki's laughter. Time was, he'd stopped resenting the sentai poses as lame. With the added bulk of the mech, massive cables pulling the metal frame into place to imitate its pilot and stunt combat swapped for the real thing, his opinion reverted.

He still takes a combat stance of his own, though.

The music starts in, an old-world recording of Ryuuseitai. Singing is optional, but Tetora still mouths the words to his parts. Colors Arise! Now, I’ll raise up a blinding beam of light— and with the flick of a switch, Black Flame is covered in its namesake, radiating heat as he launches forward to slam into the Protagony at speed.

Chiaki has a shield waiting to meet him and Tetora grins. Way to go, Morisawa-senpai. They've choreographed it well— perfectly timed to satisfy the audience and to let them go home in one piece. No fatalities, no major repairs. Unlike certain other earlier incidents— berserking, people pulled from cockpits unplanned, and censored broadcast after censored broadcast. Ryuuseitai was given Europa because they could be counted to keep the image clean, and know how to keep to choreography. Sparks fly out, firework-bright against the void sky for a moment before momentum wins against the minimal gravity and Black Flame propels them both forward. Snow explodes outward and evaporates in the same moment, steam all about them and he swaps his visuals to infrared in the mist that wreathes them now.

He pauses for it to clear, before comes Chiaki's return volley. When the combat can't be seen, there's no point.

No return volley arrives.

Seconds tick past. He loses his place in where he should be in their predetermined routine. Thirty seconds gone now and in the mist heat signals multiply while Hero Protagony's bulk has dissipated to nothing. Tetora blinks hard, but the readings don't change. His screen tells him he's alone in a sea of angry blips. His heart speeds, he whirls around, and the sensors berserk. The guitars in Colors Arise continue to scream electric chords at him— the stage now real as the one then. His every nerve shouts, forget the plan, go on the defense, go on the attack, do something—

Ice fissures beneath his feet. Creaks and hollow thuds build to a shattering eruption, and the glacial shelf falls away. The abyss swallows him whole. Red dyes his monitors completely, as Black Flame is no longer surrounded but inundated. Panic chokes him and he yanks at the controls. Unlike Kanata's Meteor Abyss, Black Flame wasn't designed for undersea combat; he can feel icy liquid seeping in past the rubber soles of his boots. Up to the ankles. Knees, thighs, his chest all underwater, the deluge coming fast.

His hands are off the controls now, but he doesn't use them to struggle with his bindings— mech fighting jolts the cockpit too much for the pilot to be safe in any other position than firmly strapped in. He peers down into the wavering image of his own numb hands moving beneath the water, LCD panels blurred and are rendered unreadable and unreliable by refraction but still he can see the red warning signs of something in there with him.

There's nothing else for it.

Water up to his nose now, tilting his head back to take the last few breaths he can, he kicks hard from his seat to shatter the casing on the emergency self-destruct. So much for no damage to the mechs. But without hesitation, he slams his closed fist on the button, despite the shards he's unleashed in the watery cockpit. His head goes under entirely. He can only feel his stung numb useless limbs in abstract and he shuts his eyes against the glass floating in there with him.

The countdown starts, slow seconds and blaring warnings that sound like the reality of an alarm echoing through a dream as Tetora begins to drown.

He doesn't know how long he's suspended there, in the unreality of his breath held until his throat spasms, saltwater with a sulfuric edge flooding in. His body is heavy with water weight, his mind light-headed from lack of air. He waits for— there! That jolt! The cockpit shifting sideways, ejection launch ready, pistons work and reliable hydrolics jostle the cockpit and then it tears free.

He is thrown from Black Flame. Water leaks from everywhere and the cockpit's pod crashes loud with impact, bounces, and goes skittering across the ice. Cuts open and leak. Tetora's eyes open, wearily, but he views the world through the black haze of oncoming unconsciousness. He coughs weakly, water seeping from his mouth.

Black Flame stands tall and still before him, high and dry and fully-functioning, lights and sounds blaring out an emergency. Get back. Evacuate.

It doesn't make any sense.

Less sense still, Shinkai-taichou's presence. He kneels down to put his damp hands on his cheeks, thumbs gently working open Tetora's mouth. His eyes water and Kanata's wavering shiloette abandons delicacy to shove in the rest of his fingers, like to force Tetora to disgorge all his chest took in. That isn't what he does, though. Instead, his other hand drives his jaw shut over the digits, grinding teeth into skin until it breaks and blood seeps a raw iron taste into Tetora's mouth.

"Swallow, Tetora…" Shinkai-taichou's voice floats down to him, as if from a great distance. And, more by instinct than of his own volition, he does. Only then does Kanata release.

As his vision finally gives in to darkness completely, the last thing he sees is Kanata swinging himself into the empty space where the cockpit had been. Impossibly, Black Flame's steel frame shuts itself around him with a spray of wet gore and rises.

—

Chiaki keeps both his hands anchored tight to Nagumo's in the hospital room. Kanata, damp, drips in the second seat beside him.

Another sudden mechanical failure, the flashing suicide lights on Black Flame as it threw its pilot out on the ice without warning— Nagumo wasn't the first to have it happen. Not by far. And now, he lay as another body in a another bed with a nasal canula and oxygen pumped into lungs flooded with mystery fluid from drowning in a bone-dry cockpit.

Kanata had finished out the battle, swapping in and calming the mech as medical crews pulled Nagumo in from the sub-zero wastes. Black Flame was ensconced in its hangar bay, diagnostic crews looking for what caused its fraudulent signals. He wants to trust the ES doctors, he really does. He'd grown up in a hospital bed, his fate in their hands and they'd carried him through. He'd decides to believe in them, even knowing this isn't the first time. There were others that had made it before. Takamine had been fine too, after his incident. He had left though, Shinobu travelling with him as support whilst he gets used to his new posting training the understudies— until he decides if he wants a replacement or to come back.

Anyway, Nagumo will be waking up soon. Experience says so, Tetora's tougher than he gives himself credit for. And as Chiaki isn't scheduled to beat up his mech on camera, he's staying here and waiting until he does. He takes in a deep breath and laughs loud enough to not hear the beeps of Nagumo's heart-rate over the sound of his own voice.

"Fuhaha! Chin up, Kanata! Imagine Nagumo's face, seeing his hero looking so blue!"

Beside him, Kanata's brow furrows in confusion as he slowly metes out a reply, "But… I am. I am Ryuusei Blue?"  He doesn't sound sure.

"Yeah!" He reassures him.  Kanata hasn't appeared in battle in a while, but that doesn't change his position in the unit!  "But we're not on stage right now."

"Hmm. . ." Kanata considers it. "If we're not 「on-stage」then . . . I'm not a hero."

Chiaki refutes him, "You don't need to be so humble! When Nagumo's up, I'm sure he'll agree and praise you as the coolest, most reliable hero there ever was!"

"I do like 「praise.」

"Right! So accept it!"

"But… . . . Why am I being 「praised?」 His wide eyes look at Chiaki, searching.

Unease begins to filter in.  Whatever got Tetora might have gotten Kanata too.  Maybe he should refer him to the doctors as well?  But that's a thing to worry about later.  In the moment, he answers, "Since you took over his fight, the medical crews were able to see him right away! You saved him, just as much as the doctors did! And his Live ranking won't even drop, since you put on a wonderful show. A clean battle with cool flourishes and with no dirty work. You were a perfect, reliable hero!"

"Oh. I did?" He looks pleased. "Thank you, Chiaki. I'm 「happy」. To be Tetora's hero."

"You're a hero's hero! When he wakes up, he'll tell you himself."

"When will he wake up?"  Kanata looks about, like he's expecting a second Tetora other than the one dead asleep on the bed to pop up and thank him.  "I 「want」 to see Tetora."

Chiaki has no immediate answer. The pause lasts just long enough to be awkward, before he lets go of Tetora's hands to take Kanata's and guide them to take his place holding Tetora's.  Finally, Kanata seems to recognize who is in the hospital bed.  Kanata gives a watery smile and leans to rest his head on Chiaki's shoulder, and Chiaki scoots in closer.  All their hands clasped together, they settle in to wait.

—

Madara leans over the rail in the mech bay. Down below, he can see Tetora's boots and not much else of him as he works on Black Flame's electric insides, denuded of its armor. The mechanic's bag beside him spills over, wrenches and calipers, laid on bare metal across from wet towels with soft pink stains. Absorbed in his work, he doesn't notice Madara's heavy footfalls on the catwalk above.

"Heeeeey!" He calls down. "It's Tetora-san! ☆ You're up and at 'em!"

Tetora emerges with a smooth slide of the wheels. "Ossu~." He gives a casual salute with oil streaking his gloves, a sodden towel still in his grasp. "What's up, Mikejima-senpai? Do you need something for Zarathustra?" He sits up to wring the towel out into a bucket murky with dark liquid, and tosses it aside with the others. "Gotcha! I'm pretty much done with diagnostics. Until the cockpit gets put back, not a lot left to do. I'll go carry this all over!"

Madara descends the stairs as Tetora shoves tools back into place and hefts them. He hadn't needed them, but it's as good an opportunity to get Tetora alone and away from cameras as any. "Aren't you a good boy, Tetora-saaaan? Sure, come on, Zarathustra is this way!"

He leads him over and as Tetora makes to set the toolbox down, Madara yanks him by the wrist into his own mech and seals up the entrance behind them as the tools spill over the catwalk with a clatter. Whoops. ☆

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Tetora protests, wincing as he tugs his arm free.

Madara lets him go but takes his place, blocking the door release latch. "Haha! Now, now that no one is around— you're a good kid! You don't want to worry your seniors, riiiight? Okay! Let it all out, vent all your frustrations at Mama! Fuhahaha!"

Tetora, cornered, looks more exasperated than scared. "So you're where Morisawa-senpai got that laugh. He told me what he used to be like, but s'hard to believe he'd come up with that over-the-top problem personality all on his own," He shakes his head, "Even if he's tryin' to imitate his beloved tokusatsu heroes. It's 'cuz of yours."

Madara shrugs, expansive. "Right! Incisive! Here's the problem, ab origine. But that means he's only seeing my surface." He grins, showing his teeth, "Really, I'm a scaaaaaary guy who is willing to do whatever it takes to keep the people I love safe." He looms now over Tetora, taking full advantage of his height, his broad physique. "So you understand me, right, Tetora-san? You, who has also chosen to walk the path of a villain, because he can't become a hero!"

With folded arms Tetora says, "You can just cut to the chase."

"What happened with Kanata-san?"

Their eyes meet. For a long time they stare each other down, but Tetora averts his gaze first. "I dunno, Mikejima-senpai. I blacked out."

Madara scrutinises Tetora, same as he scrutinises his own memories. Stacks of reports, highlighting the myths of their homeland and the bad things that have occurred since Europa became the homeland— papers that were more highlighter yellow than not. Kanata, made his leader again. Kanata there just in time to save Tetora, Kanata there at the hospital wing, Kanata pouting and avoiding answering him. Kanata asking questions he ought to know the answers to. It's discomfittingly like viewing the world through crossed eyes, double images that overlay when he focuses: the Kanata when they were children at the Shinkai compound, the Kanata walks on his own, his human legs firm on solid ground.

Tetora's hands have blood in the cuticles and under the nail beds, the ES uniform boots have left a trail of dilute red in the patterns of his treads behind him. Tetora's downcast gaze sees the same thing, and Madara decides it's frustration that he sees in the cast of his jaw.

"Haha! Is that so!" He puts a hand on Tetora's shoulder and squeezes, a gesture that's meant for comfort but he never has been good at controlling his own strength. "Tell me if you remember anything, Tetora-san!" And he slaps Tetora companionably on the back, and leaves Zarathustra's cockpit, closing it up behind him.

Tetora registers he's being shut in a moment too late and Madara only hears the edge of his voice calling after him, protesting, as he goes without so much as a glance back.

—

In the guts of Midori's old mech, Tetora inhales deep. With his eyes closed, his brain narrows down the scent to sea salt, lingering. His nostrils flare confirming it's only air, even as his brain insists on calling back to what it was like to drown.

Eugh.

He opens his eyes. The torch beam cuts a circle in the dark. Where it lands, it could be rust flaking at the edges of the valves. Only one way to be sure and he had his tetanus shot kind of recently. He hoists himself up, face lifted close, and licks.

It's the same stuff he tasted before, when Kanata bled in his mouth.   So now he's left with a hard dilemma: what gives?  He saw Kanata crushed in his mech, he's found Kanata's blood in Midori's, he talked to Kanata literally yesterday about dripping all over the breakfast table and getting the rice soggy.  He'd check other mechs from older incidents, but he needs to lift a card for higher clearance. If he's still hallucinating, does he go back to the ES doctors that keep finding everyone "fine" after everything?  Mikejima-senpai didn't react to him scrubbing blood out of his mech but Mikejima-senpai wouldn't.   Maybe he should get that bucket back and see if Chiaki screams.   He's weak to spooky stuff so even if there's some grand conspiracy, Morisawa-senpai would give it up right away

He lowers himself down from the bar he hangs from, clambering back out of Midori's mech, Mascot, landing with a soft thud.  In the hangar now, he hears he's not alone.

Shinkai-taichou's voice echoes off the steel walls, magnified to distortion.  Tetora looks down through the beams to see him standing there nude, pale, and a puddle of water at his feet.  Hustling, Tetora takes the stairs at a run, two steps at a time.

"Shinkai-taichou!"  He calls down.   "Shinkai-tai...chou...?"

His steps hesitate when Kanata turns to him, and there's zero recognition in his eyes.  He's been singing, but there's no words.   It's like whale-song, indescribably sad.  Condensation has formed on the silicate faux-glass roof above him and a steady drizzle falls on him alone.

Before he can take another step forward a doctor appears and Tetora stows himself behind a concrete pillar before he can be seen.  The doctor hustles him off and Tetora watches them go, a dripping trail left in their wake. 

Okay, he's got to talk to Morisawa-senpai. Whatever is up, those ES doctors know. They cannot trust them.

—

Chiaki pounds on the door to Kanata's quarters— always kept locked. A fine discovery! It's good that Kanata has figured out privacy, and discovered he enjoys some time to himself!

It is making inviting him to the beach more difficult than he had figured on, though.

Chiaki calls out, "Kaaaanaataaa! Beach day! Come on, we're going out! Beach day time!" The big inflated beach ball sitting in the hallway behind him will make the point just as much as his voice, if Kanata looks through the viewport.

". . .Europa beaches are 「cold」." Kanata's green eyes appear through a slit and Chiaki internally celebrates.

"Hahaha! Where was this attitude when I tried to get you out of the school fountain, way back when?"

"The 「fountain」 had water. Europa is all 「ice」."

"Not this one! Pinky promise! Heroes never lie!"

The door opens a crack and behind it Kanata is visibly pouting in his darkened quarters, backlit by a dim stack of aquarium tanks behind him. Still, he's opened the door, and that's what counts! "Where…? Show me."

"Okay! Close your eyes!" Chiaki puts his hands over Kanata's, which Kanata doesn't seem amused by.

"Chiaki . . ." Kanata warns, hands reaching up to remove Chiaki's.

Chiaki rebukes, "Don't look! A hero has no fear of the unknown!"

Kanata sticks his tongue out, but keeps his eyes closed as he pulls Chiaki's hands away fully. Chiaki grins at his sightless face, and puts his hands on his shoulders to steer him down the hall, leaving the door to slide shut behind them, auto-locking. They traverse until Chiaki stops at a VR training room and yanks the door open. He gives a gentle shove to push Kanata into the room, and Kanata's eyes open in surprise as his bare feet sink into warm soft sand.

Inside, Chiaki has used his clearence to wreck the training room perfectly. Speakers sound seagull cries, and water tank footage plays on one wall, ocean dunes displayed on others and clear blue earth skies above. Sand bags meant for weight have been spilled to make their own beach, stacked high enough to prevent the mini-lake he's flooded on the far-side of the room from spilling into the hallway beyond them.

Kanata, wondering, trails into the room and Chiaki unbuckles and kicks off his boots in nearly the same motion, and begins to run. He grabs Kanata's wrist as he goes, and takes him with him to the water's edge. Kanata has replaced shock with giddiness and goes running with him, keeping pace as they jump into the shallows. Their faces mirror each other's, grins wide.

Chiaki turns to face the wall of simulated water, and shouts, "Moooom! We're home! Your precious boys came home, back to your big blue arms!"

Next to him, Kanata echoes, "We're home~".

The only waves are the ones they create sloshing about. But they create plenty, Kanata immediately submerging himself to the waist, down on his knees in the water and Chiaki remembers now to run back for the beach ball. He serves it up and starts a ruleless game, the two of them declaring how it is they're winning now, calling out move names as they serve and catch. The sky-blue earth sky fades to twillight orange and even Chiaki is left a bit winded from their play, exertion more a glow than an ache. The awkward tension he's felt with Kanata recently has dissipated in the water entirely.

Now, if ever, is the time to ask.

Chiaki leans back on his elbows on the shore, and does. "Do you know what happened with Tetora?"

Kanata doesn't show any bewilderment. He turns to look at Chiaki, and his mouth twists out of a smile. His expression is now all resistance.

"In the footage, there was something weird. You piloted it, right? But the cockpit was already gone," Chiaki elaborates.

"…"

"Tetora didn't just eject himself, Black Flame's not built to throw him to freeze on the ice. All the piloting mechanisms, the cockpit all come out too! How did you do that? You were there in the footage, it wasn't remote piloting."

Silence stretches between them and Chiaki can't do anything but keep going.

"And Tetora threw up water after, even though he never got submerged. Like it came from inside!"

Kanata finally responds. "Chiaki. . . No. Don't ask." He stonewalls.

"So you do know!" Chiaki rises, ready to begin a speech. Surely, if Kanata shares his burden, then the two of them can tackle it together. They're stronger together. The five of them were Ryuuseitai— he'll tell their juniors, and it will all work out!

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a human shape in the water tank footage. He twists to see it, to make sure no one's fallen into the reservoir— a hero's words are important, but their deeds more so! But as he sees the shape fully, he recognizes it.

Kanata.

Chiaki's mouth hangs open and he starts to ask a new question, turning to look at the Kanata at his side but in Kanata's eyes is determination as he puts a palm against Chiaki's mouth to stop him from finishing even the shape of his name. Shaking his head, voice slow and soft as ever, Kanata tells him, "I. . . don't want you to get 「replaced」 too." Chiaki realises now that he hears not just agitation in his voice, that's concern. Kanata's eyes fix above the entrance, where an ubiquitous security camera sits placidly recording everything.

He's watching the wrong place.

A moment later, the door beneath it swings open, and another Kanata stands in the doorway.

Oh, Chiaki realises.   This is a nightmare.

—

"Morisawa-senpai! It's the ES doctors!"

"Wait— ES is being infiltrated by evil scientists?" Chiaki's voice edges into excitement at Tetora's announcement. "Are you sure? We have to let Tenshouin know right away!"

"No. It's not going to be news to him." Exasperation. "We are the evil orgainzation. Again."

". . . In the past, Tenshouin has definitely used us for selfish gain. But he always acts for gain— he's always been the lesser between two greater evils. Like Crimpro! You remember Crimpro! If we're pawns, he's got an opponent, or at least a goal! Until we know, we can't move against him."

"Stop defending ES."

Chiaki does not stop. "You haven't been compromised? I had a nightmare, too. If we are being studied, or experimented on, or there's brainwashing, it could be a quarentine measure from—"

"We're fine! We're all fine. You remember what Takamine-kun said, right? Before he left."

Chiaki's voice fades. He does.

"Yeah. Kanata got him out of Mascot. And never got out after. S'what all the claims have in common— he saves us, then doesn't save himself."

Chiaki finishes then, understanding. "—It wasn't a nightmare!" A beat, rearranging the pieces in his head. "Tenshouin wants idols everywhere." Softer, now. "Even here. Even if here comes at a cost."

Madara clicks stop on the tape Tetora had passed him, ejecting it. He watches Kanata's face and no surprise shows, just a knowing unhappiness.

They've figured it out.

In the story they grew up on, the myth their religion fed them with every meal, the Shinkai blood and flesh had been panacea. A curse had come from the far flung heavens and crashed into earth, bad things that flowed into the land and into people's blood. Bad will and bad health had followed, until the people had given a distant ancestor to the sea and then torn him apart with their teeth and took him into their bellies. An ancestor's song had soothed a cursed people.

Now, they lived on an ocean in the far flung heavens. Kanata's blood painted the mechs, his voice rang in the all hanger bays, as they lived shut up in a metal colony, far below Europa's waters. Of all the places they could have settled, it was here. An otherworldly ocean, the place most likely in the world to sustain life— a world that might have sustained the same things that made it to Shinkai land, after the meteor. Of course, it wasn't even coincidence. Eichi wasn't a believer, but he was supremely practical. He must have seen exactly what Madara had, in the reports of the Europa pilots behavior. He'd seen bad things, and if he hadn't, Keito had.

Kanata doesn't deny it, his jaw set defiantly.

A God after all.

Madara stares him down. Then, his shoulders slump. He confesses, "I wanted you to get to live as a person."

Kanata looks down, sorrowing. He knew and so he had hidden it. Madara has finally been allowed into his ever-locked room; all secrets between them vanished away. Madara approaches, to hear his voice better, over the hum of the oxygenating and purification machines. He takes his seat at Kanata's side, and Kanata leans against him. Their two sets of legs dangle into the water below. Their gazes settle below the gentle ripples, where drift the dark shapes of Kanata's own body, repeated and cloned. A fate Kanata had taken on all his own.

After a long beat, Kanata starts, "I know. . ." He looks up once more, meeting his eyes. His voice has rare steel in it, a martyr's determination. "But. . . I 「want」 you to live."

—

It is hard, being leader. It is hard, keeping secrets.

It's been hard since that rotten emperor had come to him, three of his bodies explaining in turn the world he'd remade in the shape of his dream of eternity. Mass-produced idols, he said, rows of bodies floating behind him.

"Welcome to the club," Eichi had purred to Kanata, before giving a breathless little laugh. Kanata had shoved him back but the other two Eichi hadn't even deigned to stop him, relaxing against each other, enjoying the show. Eichi, back up against the tank, had barred his blunt teeth, and made his offer:

He'd thrown plenty of bodies to Europa before Ryuuseitai. Europa had a curse that ate through minds and hearts, and now thanks to his Majesty the Emperor's schemes, they'd be familiar hearts and minds. A Tetora, taking his frenzied teeth to his own wrists. A Chiaki, laughing alone to phantoms. Break one, send another. A fact, and a threat-- no, Kanata couldn't tell anyone.

So Kanata had made his choice. New Captain, now and forever. His awful, lonely choice.

And now, Madara at his side, he'd keep making it. He'll paint every mech's insides with his own iron, talismanic, until Europa is 「safe」.

Madara is good at plans. Madara is good at schemes.

And what is an emperor to a God?

[deusvervewrites]

Iron Mellisa:

What are Izuku's go to gadgets

I think Midoriya would start out with gear that replicates Quirks which he'd have steadily improved on over the years he's been working with Support Gear. So he'd have started out with gloves that compress air and then release it in bursts, like Bakugou's explosives, but would upgrade them into also having propulsion and air blasts ironically similar to AFO's Air Cannon.

He'd also be likely to try and replicate Pro Heroes he likes. For example, something with wires to resemble Jeanist, or a shield to replicate Crust.

[j-a-n-e--d-o-e]

This is probably me talking out of my ass but heroes in bnha can be split into 2 categories from what I've seen:

Spotlight

Underground

And the unofficial 3rd that Hawks and Nagant fell into that was basically Black Ops.

Spotlight and Underground don't really sound like Official classifications that's government organizations would use in my opinion so I kinda see it as slang that everyone in the hero community uses to the point that it's only on official documents that they refer to each other as their actual classification

So:

Spotlight= Daylight Hero with the 3 subcategories of Rescue, Offence or Defence.

ie: Endeavor is an Offence or Attack based Hero, Hawks is a Rescue Hero and that shield guy Crust? Is a Defence Hero

Underground= Twilight Hero with the 3 subcategories of Detective, Deep Cover or Intelligence Operative.

Idk enough underground heroes to give examples but Aizawa would probably be a Detective or Intelligence Operative. Maybe he started out as Intel, gathering knowledge and spying on ppl but when he became a teacher he moved to the detective category as it was less dependent on field work that would be limited by his teacher work hours. Idk

In this case the Black Ops = Midnight Heroes.

Every Hero in this Category holds either a Twilight or Daylight licence because official Midnight Heroes don't exist. To other Heroes they're a ghost story, to Civilians they're not even that. Nedzu may be aware, it's up to you.

So yeah... Just a thought I had. Let me know what you think or if there's something obvious I missed

[cursedfortune]

A kiss underwater

Kiss. - 19. @fallesto

She knew it was only a matter of time before Regulus met someone he would struggle with. That's how it always went, wasn't it? Because despite how immortal he sought to make himself on the behalf of using others - he was still mortal under it all. Capable of death. They complimented one another in how they could enrage mortals, in the crimes they committed and the challenge they thus presented to the heroes.

Prove your worth, mortals. Mortem would smile, welcoming the challenge. But Regulus was different. He was affronted, he did not seek to play the game but wipe clean the board. And she could appreciate his way of being. If she hadn't, she wouldn't call him her husband.

The Sin of Greed was so often intent on protecting her. She had witnessed what happened when she shielded him, when she took damage despite him knowing how quickly she could heal the wounds. A personal attack that always resulted in the brutal undoing of mortals and hands that were learning to be gentle took hold of her. He always prided himself on not needing protection, regardless if she still chose to do so because she loved him. But now was not a time for him to be stubborn. She could see their foes gaining the upper hand, learning him enough and then he was suddenly so far away-- her head snapping back as she stared upwards, her legs carrying her as she ran.

Like a meteor he came crashing back down upon the world, shattering the earth's crust and plummeting down into its depths. With her heart inside his chest she could feel it as she drew closer, the panic in the darkness... the suffering. Suffering he surely deserved and yet she blew past the heroes with not even a glance. Because whatever he deserved she would intercept, she would accept the consequences because they were partners in this.

If this world wished to be deprived of witches then fuck them. Pandora be damned to do whatever she wished! Her love screamed silently within her; with ever footfall, in the way a storm rolled in above them with a clap of thunder that rivaled her beating heart. Mortem didn't hesitate to leap into the hole and plummet down after Regulus, into the frigid sewer waters from all the pipes he smashed through on his way down. The current and debris could do whatever it wished to her as she moved with the blows, focusing her senses upon her husband. Reaching out with all her energy, all her blood magic she dragged the two of them closer and finally took him into her arms once more.

Like that of a shield Mortem coiled around Regulus to protect his overwhelmed self from damage. An arm around his shoulders, another to protect his head. Her lips found his then, bullying his to part and take her air - to live. To remember he found her, to remember she chose him. Keeping an arm coiled tight around him her other reached out, trying to find anything to grab onto. She could feel the way her bones broke against piping, against the stone of the sewers and jagged foundation that was crumbling more and more. Finding purchase was damn near impossible.

...And he was going to run out of air soon. Even she would succumb to a lack of oxygen. Recoiling she returned to fully holding onto him and did the only thing that came naturally to the witch - to find a solution through sheer willpower. To manifest a desired outcome.

Her forehead bumped into his a little harder than she would have wanted but her focus settled in nonetheless. Pooling in her energy, his own. Calling upon their reversed hearts as she demanded the forces of nature hear her, heed her. Once more her lips found his, calling even louder upon the forces to bend to her will, to feel her fury, to tremble at her love and need to keep this one soul alive - to keep him with her. And she could feel as her will collided both their energies, their power-- didn't the witch always say entropy and time complimented one another, were they not inseparable? His ability could send her back... send them both back. Or forward, down a potential path.

Mortem's will unleashed as much of her energy as needed and within an instant they were out of the foul and dark place and beneath the morning sunlight. A wet and tangled mess within the grass, not the type she'd like to be with him, but that didn't matter. Not when she drew in fresh air and took in the colorful scenery of her clearing.

There was no time to take in the sight of her home, of the cabin that sat awaiting her nor the vast forest that surrounded them. Mortem's hands took his face between them, "Breathe, husband. You're safe now." Beyond safe, so far from those that hunted them. This world that was so vastly different, that left her alone for the most part. He... could be safe here. The rest could come later.

For now her forehead pressed to his has a little laugh left her, a sound of relief that he was alive. Mixed among water a few tears trailed down her face as the fear and stress began to fade away. He never lied in saying he was strong, both in will and in power. She had never been so happy to be proven right (yet again) by it, for the terror she felt at the thought of losing him left the witch sniffling. If he ever doubted her feelings, how important he was to her - beyond being the infamous Archbishop of Greed meant to serve the witches, but at her equal... perhaps this would bring clarity. To see she was willing to move worlds to save his life.

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

FOLLOW THE LEADER

FOLLOW THE LEADER by KitCat The TatoBean

" A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path. " - Agatha Christie

When the time came too soon, Izuku swallowed in pain and disgrace. He wanted a quirk, more than anything but not like this... Never like this... He got a quirk but at what cost?

Izuku learns to navigate the world alone - for two years - till the man known as the Shield Hero; Crust helps him learn he isn't so alone. He was never alone. Only time will tell because ... a mother's love is so addicting... Izuku can never replace that special slot even if he does gain a family along the way and a will to carry his love for music into his hero career.

Only time will tell how he'll grow and cover the world in a loud tune that is full of love and care. A tune he so graciously got from his one and only mother... Midoriya Inko. The one that started it all...

Words: 1404, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!, Part 12 of COLLECTION OF COKO'S DEKU AUS!

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko, Crust

Relationships: Midorya Izuku & Crust

Additional Tags: Dead Midoriya Inko, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Hurt Midoriya Izuku, Grief/Mourning, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Midoriya Izuku Gets A Hug, Midoriya Izuku Gets Therapy, Singer Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Loves Music, Midoriya Izuku Has a Voice Quirk, Parental Crust, Good Parent Crust, Crust Adopts Midoriya Izuku, I looked at him, and said parental rights to this man, Trauma Induced Quirk, Quirkless People with Extra Toe Joints Wear Custom Sneakers | Red Shoe Theory, Mother's Love, Parental Love, imagine having that? :D, Izuku gets what I don't have and that's a healthy parental relationship D:, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Author Regrets Everything

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47312164

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 272, Replies Part 2

1) “HOLY SHIT THANK GOD GRAN TORINO WAS PAYING ATTENTION, BECAUSE MIC WOULDN`T EVEN GOT A CHANCE TO TRY TO RUN AWAY

FUCK MAN THAT WAS TOO CLOSE”- No warning, no means to fight back, nothing to do but flee and cower before absolute power. This is not a fight, this is a slaughter, and it will not cease until there is nothing left to target. 2) “Now, whatever it was that was on those flasks is not important.

There is no need to store quirks for later use

The one to End it all doesn`t need those pointless things, he already has everything he needs.”-A point to differentiate AFO and Tomura. AFO would have tried to preserve the Quirks and the power they possessed whilst destroying the heroes, possibly holding back the more destructive powers he had, just because they would have been something he’d have wanted to possess. Tomura doesn’t care for potential power, only what he has and how much he needs to achieve his ambitions in combat presently. 3) “Now everyone that can fly, please help the person to your right not being disintegrated if you please “- He couldn’t fly, but Crust did his part to stop Aizawa being disintegrated, even to his personal detriment. 4) “ALSO FUCKINGHELL WHOGR ABBBED AIZAWA FUCK OFF LET MY MAN GO HENEEDS TO SEE HIS DAUGHTER”- The High-End was already being disintegrated by Decay, so there was no way it could be saved or dragged to safety. It just wanted to take somebody else down with it in its last moment, an act of pure spite against its enemies, but at least that meant Crust was able to make his last actions a heroic one.    (MHA ch 261) 5) “And then next page it`s him lying dead on the ground.

Alright, he probably will survive this, but it would be hilariously dark if this was the case, I tell you that.”- Completely hilarious. Side-splitting, you could say, along with everything else about him splitting into pieces….

  (MHA ch 261)

6) “Alright, maybe the Nomu does know his name. Sue me. It won`t change a fact, his name is now set in stone in my brain, I will never recall what`s supposed to be his actual name.”- I wonder if this got it stuck in there…    (MHA ch 262) 7) “okay, so it can expand apparently. And that guy there- what was his name again- Crush? Crust. I like Crush better, makes it a possible foreshadowing of what fate he shall have- anyway, Crush there is holding him back, which might be how he will end up getting his name after all.”-  I think ‘Crumble’ suits him better now.    (MHA ch 262) 8) “Now the true question is how strong those shields actually are, because they need to be able to keep a powerhouse like this from crushing all of you. Considering your rank, I hope the power of your quirk also be quite high.”- His shields are apparently very strong, but unfortunately, Tomurra’s Decay is a flat-out gamebreaker move. Strength, speed and defences all mean nothing against his ability to return everything to the void as fine particles so long as a single piece of contact is made to continue the spread.   (MHA ch 262) 9) “Don`t talk like that about yourself already Crush, you still have so many more panels before you go! Don`t cry, I`m pretty sure your death will be quick and painless, the Nomu will make sure you die before you`re as flat as a pancake.”- Quick, yes. Painless?... depends how much pain you can feel when your entire nervous system is disintegrating into dust. 10) “MIC THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS ABOUT TO START MONOLOGUING, JUST LET HIM GO, HE WANTS TO BE ONE WITH HIS MASTER

LET HIM TASTE THE RUIN HE HELPED BRING FORTH”- His role is now done, and all he can do it enjoy the ride wherever it takes him…but he’s certain that the destination won’t be a good one for the heroes, and that thought gives him so much joy. I honestly wonder if heroes did something to him in the past personally, because he seems to loathe them all equally almost as viscerally as Dabi, and if that all stems from AFO’s animosity with them and his immense loyalty to his master, then he’s clearly fanatically insane as well as being a mad scientist in general. 11) “YEP, THERE GOES THE HOSPITAL. HOPE EVERYONE GOT OUT IN TIME”- The civilians had a chance to maybe get some distance, but the heroes? Most defiantly not.

   (MHA ch 269) 12) “Oh, hey endeavor, it`s nice seeing you after that meeting 3-5 years prior. Tell me, did you ever killed pop or did you let Koichi do the honors? Well, it doesn`t matter, because jesus we`re gonna see some gory shit this chapter, won`t we?”- This chapter, this arc….the gore gets turned way up from this point forward. The villains ain’t playing nice, and neither is Horikoshi.   (MHA ch 262)

13) “Alright, that might take a little while I suppose… Y`all we have at least more five minutes before Namek explode, we can start running right now and we might get far enough to have hope of surviving before the initial wave of decay hit us when he wakes up.”- You were pretty much right on the money. Distance was about the only thing that saved those few heroes around the hospital who couldn’t easily fly. 14) “OH PIXIEBOB, I DON`T KNOW IF THROWING THE EARTH BACK IS GONNA STOP IT. THIS DECAY IS FAR MORE POWERFUL THAN IT EVER WAS

I FEAR IT MIGHT BE TOO LATE”- It might not stop it, but a thick barrier would give the Decay’s encroachment a slight delay that could be the difference between Life and Death for some…including possibly Pixiebob herself, if he’s trying to futily hold the life against the onrushing storm like that.

15) “HOLY CRAP. LAST TIME SHIGARAKI TOOK DOWN A FEW BLOCKS WITH HIS QUIRK

THIS TIME THE RANGE IS FAR BIGGER

I WORRY ABOUT HOW FAR IT CAN ACTUALLY GO

NOWHERE IS SAFE, THE END WALKS THE EARTH”- Last time, the limit that restrained him was the self-damage the Quirk did to him pushing it that hard. This time, that restriction is gone, so now we’ll all witnessing what happens when an unstoppable force just keeps going…. @thelreads