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Foresight is 20/20- Part 1/4

Warnings: A person being treated like an object, referring to a person as ‘it’, fearplay, non-consensual (non-sexual) touching, mentions of vore but none takes place, mentions of dissection/torture but none happens and a general warning for Izuku having pretty dark thoughts. If I missed any please let me know!

This is my first post so I’m really nervous but here we go! There’s a surprising lack of g/t for mha and I took that as a challenge! Have some giant Sir Nighteye and tiny Midoryia.

Rubbing his eyes, Mirai sighed and leaned back in his chair. This case was impossible! Some woman with an untraceable brainwashing Quirk had robbed a bank and they couldn’t find her. There’d been no leads when they checked the Quirk Registry and all they had to go off was a few minutes of security footage.

There was no use in continuing what he was doing. It was late, he was exhausted and his laptop was looking more frustrating every second.

Standing up, he stretched out the ache in his limbs and he went down to the agency’s kitchen to have a last cup of tea before he left for the night. Luckily, Centipeder had left out the camomile tea and the corner of Mirai’s lips twitched upwards. It was obviously a jab at his workaholic tendencies, but it was a considerate gesture.

It was as he was sipping his tea that he noticed something laying on the counter and he squinted at it. A doll? Had Eri left it when she was visiting earlier?

Picking it up, Mirai turned it over in his hand, admiring the detailed craftsmanship. Pale, freckled skin, soft, fluffy green hair, even handmade clothes with near-invisible stitching. It looked exactly like a tiny human. He had to wonder if it was made using some kind of Quirk — a Quirk that let them zoom in the see the finer details, most likely.

Gently placing it in his pocket to give back to the girl the next time he saw her, Mirai forgot about the doll.

He finished his tea, packed up his things and went home. The drive was peaceful, considering it was nearly 11 pm and most sane people were asleep. He loved quiet nights and he basked in the only noise being the soft murmur of the radio.

When he got in, he hung up his blazer and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He barely remembered to brush his teeth and wash the product out of his hair before he collapsed into his bed and curled under the covers.

——

Izuku woke up to complete darkness.

It wasn’t the darkness of his home inside the walls, where he still got the soft light of the morning through a little peephole he’d made. He couldn’t see anything and he felt around blindly.

There was fabric surrounding him completely, soft to the touch and smooth. Following the fabric upwards, he stood up and, on his tiptoes, he could feel a flap of some kind.

It was like…

A pocket.

Izuku froze at the thought. He’d been shoved in a pocket and the material was really nice so it could only be one person.

Sir Nighteye. Or Mirai Sasaki. People called him both. He was the head of the hero agency Izuku lived in.

Nighteye was a cold, calculated man that terrified Izuku to his very core. His mama had always warned him about humans like that: they were the first ones to notice when things went missing. But Nighteye was also mean to people his own — well, just humans, considering Nighteye towered over other humans too — size. Izuku had no doubts he’d want to get rid of a borrower, seeing him as a pest.

Holding his breath, Izuku listened carefully but didn’t hear anything and decided to risk it.

Jumping up, he caught the lip of the pocket, half pulling himself up half using his feet to try and get some traction. He got up the side, holding himself up by the shoulders as he looked around. The blazer he was in the pocket of looked like it’d been hung up and Izuku knew the drop would at least break his leg, if not worse.

Digging his hook into the fabric of the pocket, Izuku let the thread dangle down. It didn’t reach the floor all the way but he’d survive that drop. Kicking his leg over the edge, he held onto the thread in a death grip and started slowly shimmying down the wire. The final few inches he dropped without a problem and he tugged his hook down after him.

Glancing around, he didn’t recognise anything around him and cold dread washed over him. Had he been taken to Nighteye’s house? How was he meant to get back?

Sticking closely to the baseboards, Izuku snuck around to get the layout, finding what looked like a living room connected to a kitchen. Upon seeing the kitchen, his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten and he padded quietly towards the nearest counter.

Tossing his hook up, it caught on the counter first try and when Izuku tugged on it, there wasn’t any shifting. Climbing up expertly, Izuku heaved himself onto the counter, unhooking his rope and spooling it back up.

He looked around, searching for anything that had been left out and he lit up when he saw a plate of cookies. Immediately, Izuku sprinted over and snatched one up — they were small enough he could carry a whole one — breaking it in half. One half went in his satchel while he bit into the other with a muffled sound of delight.

So good!

He didn’t usually get sweets so the taste of chocolate was amazing. When he was younger, his mother used to borrow a piece of chocolate or something else sweet for them to share on their birthdays as a treat. The thought of his mother was bittersweet, but Izuku pushed it aside.

He finished the half of the cookie he’d broken off and contemplated grabbing another when he heard it.

“—orning. Yes, I’ll be in the office today.”

His blood froze at the familiar voice, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide. The countertop was bare of any clutter. He could only whip around on his heel and tremble as Nighteye entered the kitchen, a phone held up to his ear.

“Of course I stayed late. Bubble Girl didn’t file her reports correctly and I had to fix it.”

Nighteye’s voice was sharp and Izuku flinched when equally piercing golden eyes locked onto him. In the blink of an eye, he loomed over Izuku, overwhelming in every sense of the word.

“Yes. I’m aware. I’ll be dealing with her situation later.”

A giant hand snatched Izuku up in a bruising grip like he was nothing, trapping his arms by his side and lifting him at a dizzying speed. Nighteye scanned over him with unabashed fascination, eyes flickering at every strained breath and twitch.

Izuku couldn’t even bring himself to scream or cry under that gaze.

“I remember. I’ll be baking them tonight. I have a new ingredient I’ve never used before and I’m eager to try.”

The borrower’s mind blanked, burning terror coursing through him as he processed the words spoken. Surely he didn’t mean Izuku… he- he couldn’t. Why would he… Oh no. Oh no. Nonono. Ohkamiohkami…

The hand clutching him moved and his vision blurred, barely catching Nighteye pinning his phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his other hand.

His vision focused in time to see the maw of a jar and his heart plummeted.

“Yes, I may be a little delayed. A… situation came up, but it’s been dealt with.”

Izuku was dropped into the jar, hitting the bottom with a thud that knocked the breath out of him, leaving him gasping for air. A cookie was also dropped in, more carefully than he was so it didn’t land on him. The cap was screwed on and Izuku was only thankful it had holes in so he wouldn’t suffocate. He’d rather be eaten than suffocated.

“I’ll see you in the office.”

Nighteye swept out of the room, leaving Izuku in a jar on the counter. He held his freshly regained breath but Nighteye didn’t come back and there was the distant sound of the front door closing.

The tears that had been building spilled down his cheeks. He’d been caught. Oh god, he was gonna die. He was gonna be eaten!

He let himself cry for a long while, heaving sobs that wracked his entire body.

It was only when his tears ran dry that he forced himself to focus. Rubbing his sleeves into his eyes, Izuku took a few deep breaths. He had time. Nighteye had gone for his shift so he had the opportunity to get out and hopefully find somewhere to hide from the human.

He took the cookie that was in the jar with him, shoving it in his satchel before taking it off.

Glancing between the counter and the floor, he estimated that he’d be able to survive if he was careful. The jar was glass and would shatter is he could force it over the edge…

That was the last resort, though.

For now, Izuku used the fact the jar was less wide than he was tall, bracing his hands and feet on either side and climbing up with all his strength. He got to the top and started to carefully unscrew the lid, since it hadn’t been fully screwed on. He kicked it off and it went clattering to the distant floor.

Sliding carefully back to the bottom of his prison, Izuku sucked in a few heaving breaths, shaking out his trembling limbs. Step 1 was finished, now he had to knock the jar over and run out.

Slipping his satchel back on, Izuku backed up and took a running start at the side, sending it careening over. He bolted out the top and the jar went rolling off the counter, shattering on the floor.

He flinched at the clamour, all his instincts screaming at the noise, telling him to run and even if he knew the house was empty, he didn’t stick around. Izuku walked along the side where the wall and counter met, looking for any borrower-made openings.

Honestly, he was surprised when he did find one. It was clearly old and unused but he managed to pry it open and slip inside the tunnels, closing the entrance behind him.

The tunnels inside were well-made, the walls smooth, although they were clearly built with an adult borrower in mind since he couldn’t touch the top of the tunnels if he tried. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Izuku headed deeper into the walls. He soon came across a wide, empty space that was carefully carved out, more than big enough for one borrower. Izuku sighed in relief.

That relief vanished as he spotted two symbols carved on at the back of the space.

One was the symbol meaning the home had been abandoned but they hadn’t been discovered. The other… It was the symbol for a dangerous human.

Izuku winced at the sight. He knew Nighteye was dangerous before, but borrowers only ever labelled one like this if they thought it was an incredibly cruel human. The kind that would dissect a borrower or torture one.

Looking away from the grim reminder, he set his satchel down and slumped against the wall. The empty space seemed mocking, reminding him painfully of the things he’d left behind at home. That he’d had no choice to leave.

Izuku curled up and trembled, allowing himself to properly grieve for what he’d had taken from him.

——

I absolutely love the idea of Sir Nighteye as a giant: he’s just got that terrifying coldness to him! I’m already working on a second part and I have ideas for a third although I’m unsure how long this will be.

Foresight is 20/20- Part 2/4

Warnings: Non-graphic description of broken bones, Izuku having dark thoughts, brief mention of suffocation. Let me know if I missed any!

I didn’t expect to have the second part of this done so soon but I was out today and bored so hammered out the last bit of this part, so here we are! I’ve got a rough idea of where I want this to go and it’s looking like it’ll be 3 or 4 parts!

All day, Mirai couldn’t find it in him to focus completely on his work. His thoughts drifted back to the tiny boy, now sat in a jar in his kitchen.

It was a poor decision on his part but he’d seen the panic in that tiny face and felt the terrified hammering of his heart against his fingertips. He didn’t have the time to comfort him before he was late for work and he didn’t want him running around where he could get hurt, so the jar seemed logical. With an internal wince, he knew he had to apologise to the boy when he got back.

He did have to wonder why the boy had been in his agency in the first place. Did he live there? Was he alone? He must have a family— oh kami, had he accidentally kidnapped a child?

If Mirai left earlier than usual after being distracted all day, no one mentioned it.

When he arrived home, he already had an apology on his lips until he stepped into the kitchen and his heart stopped. Shattered glass was all over the floor and with the jar gone, it wasn’t hard to put together where it came from. He immediately crouched by the mess, scanning for any sign of the green-haired boy.

There wasn’t a trace of him but there also wasn’t any blood so Mirai could at least feel relief that he wasn’t injured. No signs of a break in so he must’ve escaped on his own. If he wasn’t so worried, he’d be impressed. It would’ve taken incredible skill for him to get out the jar on his own.

Mirai figured if he was smart enough to get out of a jar alone then he also would be smart enough to hide. That at least meant he wouldn’t be out in the open, where he could be hurt.

It didn’t stop him watching the shadows in his home, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy. There wasn’t any sign of him at all and Mirai could only try his best to put it out of his mind and refocus on his case.

——

Izuku was really stupid sometimes.

Leaving his hook in the walls and having to go back for it, forgetting what he went out the walls for, passing out on the counter and getting taken away from his home.

All of those were stupid. But this… this topped them all. Helping on a case was so incredibly stupid he could almost hear the voice of his mother in his mind, begging him not to.

‘Never give a human the chance to discover you, Izu. Never.’

But… Izuku had seen Nighteye’s files laid out on the table after the man went to bed and he couldn’t help himself. He’d always been interested in the work heroes did and he would begrudgingly admit he missed being surrounded by it.

He read them over and immediately an idea for how to solve it came to mind. The woman who’d robbed the bank clearly had a telekinesis Quirk! That meant Nighteye had been looking for the wrong kind of Quirk.

Nighteye’s notes on her Quirk were wrong, assuming it was a brainwashing Quirk. That was fair to assume from the way she’d seemingly manipulated the man working to hand over the money. But Izuku saw the screenshots and he could see the fabric of his sleeves being manipulated and the way the man seemed to choke, which made him think she threatened him by cutting off his airflow.

Izuku took the pen Nighteye had left out, hefting the writing utensil and pointedly circling the bank teller’s wrists where it was obvious the fabric was being pulled. He also made a note of ‘telekinesis Quirk’ on the paper, though the writing was wonky and each letter was a different size. Thankfully, it was still readable.

The next morning, he couldn’t resist peeking out from his door to watch Nighteye. He slumped at the table and read over his notes from the previous night, clearly frustrated.

When he came across what Izuku wrote, he paused. It was clear he was confused from the slight furrow in his brow as he looked at the messy scrawl and circled evidence.

——

“Hmmm… I didn’t write this. Did one of the interns get ahold of them…?” Mirai mumbled as he looked at the papers in front of him, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “but it’s possible…”

Nighteye pulled out his phone, dialling Tsukauchi and relaying the theory to the detective.

“That’d make sense. The teller said he felt like he couldn’t breathe for a while. We thought it was another aspect of the Quirk but… I’ll look into it now.” Tsukauchi had replied and Mirai was surprised. He’d have to find which of his interns had come up with the theory and thank them. He didn’t recognise the handwriting but there were only so many people it could be.

When he went in the next day, Mirai asked Mirio to look over the handwriting and if he recognised it. The teen knew every one of the people working at the Nighteye Agency so if anyone at the agency had done it, Mirio would know who.

“Nope! I don’t recognise it at all. I think I’d recognise handwriting that messy… at least we can finally solve the case!” Mirio chirped and while his intern was easily able to brush the unknown person aside, Mirai couldn’t get it out of his mind. He’d not seen the note the night before, so it appeared overnight. It just didn’t make sense.

Mirai felt silly as he watched over his empty work desk from the kitchen, stood in the dark. But he had to know. He had to know who was solved his case because if it wasn’t his interns, who could it be?

For a while, there was nothing.

And then a familiar, tiny figure climbed onto the table and started reading the laid out documents. It was that tiny boy he’d found just over a month ago.

He wanted to reveal himself and ask the boy every question he’d been thinking about in that time, but he reigned those emotions in. The memory of the boy’s wide emerald eyes and trembling had him wincing.

Mirai didn’t want to scare the boy off.

“There’s no way… maybe a paralysis Quirk… eye contact?” the boy’s soft muttering also came as a surprise, considering he hadn’t said a word when… The idea he’d scared the boy silent twisted something in his chest and he felt sick.

Still, he listened and watched as the boy tore through the case, coming up with theories Mirai himself hadn’t even thought of. He was incredible to watch.

With the confirmation that the boy was still living in his house, Mirai purposefully got careless. A little extra food left on the side overnight, a couple of extra things that might be useful forgotten on his desk, a few more files open on the table. He stuck to his schedule but the little changes he made were to help the boy he remembered who bordered on too thin and just bones.

The notes on his files continued and occasionally, Mirai would stay up to watch him work. He nearly alerted him that he was there one night by almost laughing when he had to pick up the pen that was nearly double his height. Mirai made it a point to leave out a shorter pencil nub and the notes got much neater.

Mirai should’ve known he was tempting fate.

He wasn’t even sure what noise he’d made but the boy’s head snapped up and emerald eyes locked onto his own. His entire body froze and they were caught in a staring competition.

Taking a slow step forward snapped whatever invisible thread was keeping the boy in place and he flinched backwards. Mirai winced at the reaction but he couldn’t let him get away again.

The boy’s hands scrambled for something at his waist and Mirai lunged forward, grabbing him. Unlike the last time, he struggled and fought against him, trying to break free. Fear of dropping him made him tighten his grip on instinct.

But Mirai’s blood froze when something under his fingers snapped.

——

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He should’ve known this would happen. He shouldn’t have gone out more than he needed to. He definitely should’ve just left the human’s things alone!

Cradling his arm that was definitely some form of broken, Izuku stumbled backwards, never taking his blurred gaze off Nighteye as he went searching for something. He’d dropped Izuku on the table after he’d broken his arm and he was stuck between relief that he wasn’t being held any more and anxiety over what came next.

He couldn’t escape with his arm out of commission and a dark part of him wondered what Nighteye would do to him. Use him as some form of entertainment before dissecting him or maybe just keeping him as a pet. He might even kill him and the broken arm was some kind of threat.

Nighteye came back with a white box, setting it on the table. Izuku didn’t know what it was and immediately was wary.

When Nighteye reached for him, Izuku couldn’t help shrieking and backpedaling, tripping over his own feet. His heart pounded against his ribs and he clenched his eyes shut, prepared to feel that restrictive grasp…

When he didn’t feel the life getting squeezed out of him, he hesitantly opened his eyes.

Nighteye had pulled his hand back and he looked at Izuku with an unfamiliar expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you, I just want to treat your arm.” he said and Izuku scrutinised his face, looking for any hint of him being insincere. There wasn’t any.

Pushing himself to stand, his gaze flickered between Nighteye and his arm. It was already swollen, turning an ugly purple and even twitching his fingers hurt. Clearly it needed treating but could he really trust the human who’d done it in the first place?

If it healed wrong, though… he’d never be able to climb or do anything he needed to survive.

Making up his mind, Izuku started taking small, slow steps towards Nighteye, resolutely not looking at his hands and avoiding making eye contact. He just stared at the All Might pattern on the human’s pyjamas, focusing on the details that got clearer as he got closer.

He stopped when he thought he was close enough, glancing up to see Nighteye’s sharp gaze watching him and he flinched. There was a long moment of silence.

“Can I touch you?” Nighteye asked and Izuku was surprised that he asked. Still, he nodded and held out his arm, forcing his breathing to steady as fingers longer than he was tall started to wrap bandages around his arm.

It was over in less than a minute but it felt like it lasted an eternity.

“Thank you.” Izuku mumbled. Nighteye had already broken his arm, he didn’t want to give him any reason to break something else too.

“I’m sorry,” Nighteye said again and Izuku caught the way he avoided looking at him, pointedly looking past where he stood. “I didn’t mean to hurt you and I can’t apologise enough.” There was genuine regret in his voice and face and Izuku hesitated.

His mother always told him humans didn’t care if they hurt a borrower… but Nighteye looked like he cared a lot. He didn’t know why but he wasn’t going to question it.

An awkward silence fell as Izuku played with the hem of his shirt, unsure what he was meant to do now. The Rules focused on avoiding getting caught but what did he do now? He couldn’t use his arm to climb, no matter moving to a different place.

“I have an offer,” Nighteye said.

——

When Mirai was sure he’d caught the tiny boy’s attention, he tried to think how best to phrase his question.

“Will you let me take care of you until your arm heals?” he asked, obviously surprising him with the way wide emerald eyes blinked uncomprehendingly up at him.

“W-what?” his voice was so quiet Mirai had to strain to hear it. It really just showed how young the kid was and the guilt in his stomach felt painful.

“You’ll need to keep your arm wrapped for at least 6 weeks,” he explained softly, “I want to make sure you heal properly so I’m offering to take care of you myself to make it easier for you. It’s only an offer so you don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

The green haired boy looked conflicted and for good reason. He’d been the one to break his arm and it’d been so easy. It barely took any pressure for tiny bones to snap like toothpicks. If Mirai had held him any tighter he could’ve killed him.

“What- what if I… said no?” he asked quietly as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be heard or not.

“Then you go home and I’ll leave things out for you,” Mirai assured him. Keeping the boy in his sights was more for his own benefit but he wouldn’t withhold food or other supplies that he dearly needed. That would’ve been cruel.

There was another pause before the boy nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Suppressing the urge to sigh in relief, Mirai just settled on nodding. “Thank you for trusting me, I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.” He bowed his head, “Although can you tell me your name?” calling him the green haired boy in his mind was getting dull.

“I… I’m Izuku.”

——

So there’s part 2! I’m a sucker for misunderstandings and accidents!

Feasting On Silent Screams 1/1

Warnings: Mentions of vore/graphic description of vore, minor TMA spoilers for Jon’s abilities.

The part with the graphic description has been italicised and it can be skipped. I’ve got a longer Magnus Archives one shot that I’ve got scheduled for later this month so have a little nugget I wrote today. I’ve nearly finished the entire series and so far I’m loving it.

Sasha was the only one brave enough to go into The Archivist’s office. Or she was stupid, if you asked Tim. But Tim didn’t count, if you asked Sasha.

She hadn’t seen Jon in a few days and she wasn’t sure where he disappeared off to. Still, she was taking the opportunity to go into his office and see if she could find some more pencil lead. It wasn’t something they needed but she liked being able to draw and write.

Humming to herself, Sasha glanced around the desk. There was a messy pile of paper, a tape recorder and a microphone. The tape recorder and microphone didn’t mean anything to her since she couldn’t borrow anything useful from them but she went over to the paper.

It was a pile of statements and she tsked as she leafed through them. There weren’t any blank pages and she groaned in quiet annoyance. She’d been hoping there would be a blank paper she could take a piece off.

Standing up, she brushed herself off and wandered over to the partially opened drawer. A cursory look and her eyes locked onto a pencil that had been ran down too small for a human to use.

It would easily be enough lead for a few months at least and Sasha beamed.

Pressing her front to the desk, Sasha slid herself to the edge until she could drop into the drawer, landing in a crouch. She grabbed the pencil and slipped it into her bag, grinning to herself.

There was the sound of a door slamming and light streamed into the room. Sasha mentally cursed as fear coursed through her as she backed further into the drawer.

She made fun of Tim but his fear of Jon was something she shared.

“Where is it?” There came the sound of paper being scattered, “No, no, no— none of these!” A bang as something was slammed overhead.

Sasha clenched her teeth, forcing back a yelp. Her ears rang and she felt dizzy as the sound echoed around her on all sides.

“What is that?” The Archivist sounded like he was sniffling but Sasha realised with a sense of sinking dread that he sounded like he’d caught the scent of something. Was it her? How?

“Someone’s in here.” He mumbled and Sasha trembled, tears pricking in her eyes. “Where…”

The drawer suddenly was pulled into the open and Sasha snapped her head up, faced with The Archivist’s vibrant green eyes.

“Oh, now this is interesting.” Before Sasha could even consider running, she was grabbed and brought into the open. “You’re tiny.” A fingertip tilted her head up and she was split between squeezing her eyes shut or keeping her eyes on the threat before her.

She kept them open to see the glowing green eyes that seem to look through her very soul.

“It’s incredible! According to the square cube law, something so small shouldn’t exist.” The Archivist’s unoccupied hand came up to grasp at her face. Sasha had her face squished and manipulated until it was seared into The Archivist’s memory.

It was when a finger pulled at her lips with a mumble about eating habits that Sasha snapped and bit the digit, which was quickly pulled away. “Well, I was just going to satiate my curiosity, but I suppose you’ll make a fine snack.”

Immediately, ever horror story of borrowers being eaten came to Sasha in a blur of crimson and white. She could practically smell the metallic scent of her own blood. Hear the sound of her bones crunching and muscles squelching as she was chewed into unidentifiable paste. See the spray of blood as her limbs were torn off until she blacked out from the pain.

Her panicked mind wondered which The Archivist would prefer. To eat her whole or tear her to bloody ribbons first. Would he enjoy her screams? Relish in her fear?

There was a satisfied hum from above and Sasha whimpered in terror.

When her feet touched the ground, she froze and forced her bleary gaze to focus. Jon had set her down and left the room. She didn’t know what he was doing but she didn’t hesitate.

Shaky hands dug her hook into the desk and she slid down the rope, barely feeling the burn of her hands. Sasha thudded to the ground and desperately tugged at her rope, pulling a chunk of wood out of the desk. She spooled it as she sprinted, stumbling over the thread as she ran.

When she entered the tunnels, she didn’t stop. She kept sprinting, scrambling through the tunnels with an urgency she’d never felt before.

Sasha barely remembered to toss of her bag before she collapsed onto her bed, burying herself in the pile of fabric scraps as if it would protect her. She trembled and sobbed as she curled into herself, trying to scrub the images out of her mind.

It didn’t work.

——

This one’s a little darker but I think it’s in the same vein as TMA in general. I played with how Jon’s fear-eating works, in that he can also absorb fear more passively. I have a little extra tidbit for this that gets much grittier so I may post that at some point.

Foresight is 20/20- Part 3/4

Warnings: Mentions of past broken bones, mild fearplay. If I missed any, let me know!

Here is the 2nd to final part of this story! I’m writing the next chapter already and it’s pure fluff.

“Be careful, Izuku.”

The borrower ignored the warning and continued climbing up the expanse of white fabric. His arm was healed and he was absolutely taking advantage of having his mobility back in the most awkward way he could.

Climbing over Mirai and giving the human many near-heart attacks.

Grasping the edge of the pocket, Izuku climbed in, leaning his back against Mirai’s chest. Being in his pocket, he could hear the slow thumping of the man’s heart and it was soothing.

“I’m always careful.” he called, grinning when he felt the sigh Mirai heaved at his shenanigans.

After a long seven weeks, Izuku could confidently say he wasn’t afraid of Mirai anymore. The first time he’d picked him up after breaking his arm, Izuku panicked so hard he blacked out. Now, he was sure Mirai probably wished he had a little more fear for himself considering he made the perfect climbing frame.

“You are a strange child, Izuku.” Mirai’s hand came to settle over the pocket Izuku curled up in, like he was reassuring himself that Izuku really was as okay as he said. “Alright, are you ready to go?” Mirai asked.

“Yep!” he chirped and rested his chin on the edge of the pocket.

Mirai promised to take Izuku back to his home in the agency now his arm had healed. He was excited to get back and see Katsuki and Ochako again.

“Remember to keep your head down.” Mirai said as he walked and Izuku hummed in agreement as he ducked back into the pocket.

He clutched his bag close to him and kept his breathing quiet. Leaning his head against Mirai’s chest, he focused on the steady sound of human’s heartbeat. It was surprisingly pleasant to listen to, if jarring because of how loud it was when he was that close.

Past the fear that had been a constant in his life, he’d always been intrigued by just how similar humans and borrowers were. They were just borrowers but bigger!

After spending the past seven weeks with Mirai, he would just find himself looking between his own tiny self and the human. When he got comfortable being held, he’d just sit in the palm of Mirai’s hand, staring at the swirls of his fingerprints and compare them to his own.

“We’re here, Izuku.” Mirai murmured, pulling him from his thoughts and he peeked from the top of the pocket.

The office was only distantly familiar, since the borrowers living in the agency could never pluck up the nerve to try and take anything from the most observant human. Still, it was familiar enough he was comforted by the sight.

Mirai held up a hand to the pocket and Izuku climbed onto it. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to be set down?” he asked.

“Your desk please.” He hopped off the hand, watching Mirai as he sat and opened his laptop. Izuku would go home later, but for now he was content to watch Mirai work.

“You’ll be sticking around for now?” Mirai asked and Izuku hummed.

“Yeah, it sounds weird but I still want to spend time with you.” Izuku blushed, embarrassed at his own admitted clinginess. “And I’ll definitely still visit you!” he declared.

Mirai smiled softly at him. “I’d like that.”

——

Izuku was missing.

He’d been missing for 3 months. He’d gone borrowing one day and just hadn’t come back.

Katsuki was losing hope. It was a childish hope that made him believe Izuku would just come back one day, completely fine, grinning and rambling about the adventures he’d been on while he was gone. He just wanted his friend back so badly it hurt.

He went around like normal but the absence of his best friend’s constant chatter while he borrowed made it seem so lonely.

Ochako had been trying her best to keep his spirits up, coming with him on his usual borrowing trips. She usually would focus more on fixing clothes since Izuku was clumsy but without him there, there wasn’t as much of a need.

So she joined him.

Katsuki blamed himself for this. He should’ve kept a better look out with Ochako being so unpracticed. He should’ve seen the loud blonde human coming ages away.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t even notice the human’s presence until he was snatched up in a fist. Ochako certainly did when she heard his yelp but she was grabbed before she could run.

Katsuki struggled but the grip was unrelenting, the overbearing heat stifling as he gasped for breath past his fear. What was the human going to do with them? Throw them in some cage to ogle at?

Katsuki wanted to scream and yell at the human to put them down, but he didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to say even a word. The rule about not speaking to humans was the only thing that he could even think about.

The human ran, sending Katsuki’s stomach reeling and bile burned at the back of his throat. His vision blurred before he clenched his eyes shut.

There was the sound of a door being slammed open. Something was said that made his ears ring with it’s volume and he felt himself falling.

He snapped his eyes open as he slammed into a solid surface. Katsuki paled when he realised it was a pair of hands and he immediately grabbed Ochako, pulling her close.

Mentally, he hoped that it wasn’t who he thought it was. That it was any other human but that one. His eyes trailed up and locked onto the cold golden gaze of the one human he desperately hoped it wouldn’t be.

It was just his luck they’d be given straight to Nighteye himself.

——

“Sir! I found something!”

Mirai looked up as Mirio barrelled into his office. Izuku was hidden by his laptop screen, but he stood and walked over to his intern just to be safe.

“What is it, Mirio?” he asked and the teen thrust his hands out, something gripped in each fist. Mirai took the things dropped into his hands out of instinct before he could even register what they were.

When he did, however, his eyes widened.

It was a pair of borrowers. A brown haired girl and a blonde boy who stared up at him with terror in their faces as they clutched to each other desperately.

“Where did you find them?” he asked the blonde, keeping his tone cool.

“They were in the kitchen for some reason.” Mirio answered. It made sense, considering it was where he found Izuku. The boy had explained that borrowers took things from humans which included food and what could be classified as junk. A kitchen was the best place for both, apparently.

“Alright. I’ll deal with this,” he didn’t miss the flinches that phrase got, “Thank you, Mirio.” he dismissed the teen and turned his attention to the borrowers in his hands.

The boy stood shakily in front of the other, glaring defiantly up at Mirai.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” he said softly, walking to his desk and laying his hands down, where the pair shot off like they’d been burned. They kept their eyes on him, cautious and obviously distrusting.

“What was it-” Izuku poked his head around the laptop and his eyes met the other two borrowers.

“Izuku!”

It wasn’t surprising that all of them knew each other. He felt awful that he’d kept Izuku from his friends for so long but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. Even Izuku admitted injuries like his broken arm made borrowing near-impossible.

“Where were you!” the blonde one yelled but it was obvious he was worried as he fretted over Izuku.

“I was with Mirai,” Izuku said, gesturing up at him, much to the obvious horror of the other two. Mirai tried not to be too offended that every borrower seemed even more terrified of him than of any other human. Was he really that scary?

“Izuku, you know how dangerous that is!” The brunette was trying to be quiet but didn’t succeed.

——

Izuku pouted at Ochako. “He helped me when I broke my arm!” he protested, leaving out the fact that Mirai was responsible for said broken arm.

“You broke your arm?” Katsuki paled and Izuku knew the thoughts of everything that could’ve gone wrong, living life as a borrower with only the use of one hand. Ochako looked equally horrified.

“It’s fine, see.” he rolled up his sleeve and showed he still had full motion in his arm. They both scrutinised him for a long moment before deeming it healed.

“I’m glad you’re okay but you need to be more careful, Izuku.” Ochako scolded, flicking him softly on the forehead. He whined but didn’t object because she was right.

Katsuki pulled him into a fierce hug and Ochako joined soon after, leaving Izuku content, if a little squished. They stayed like that for a while until Katsuki pulled away and turned on his heel to face Mirai.

The human had moved to give them a moment of privacy and he was again sat at his laptop, completely ignoring the borrower trio.

Katsuki marched over and hesitated only for a split second before he walked along the strip of plastic between the keyboard and the screen, standing where he’d block anything important. Izuku trusted Mirai but he couldn’t help the spike of fear at Katsuki’s brazen actions and he had to stop Ochako from running after him.

Obviously Katsuki wanted the human’s attention and he definitely had it.

“Why did you take Izuku?” He asked, crossing his arms and glaring up at Mirai. Izuku knew he was clutching his arms to hide the shaking of his hands and Katsuki’s legs stayed tense.

“I didn’t mean to,” Mirai said, slowly moving his hands away from Katsuki and settling them in his lap, “I found him passed out and assumed he was a doll of some kind.” His voice was low and open as he explained himself and Izuku was thankful that Mirai didn’t take offence to Katsuki interrogating him.

Katsuki glared even harder, like he was trying to figure out if Mirai was lying. He huffed but stopped glaring as hard, returning to his base levels of glaring.

“Okay. I believe you,” he declared, “but I don’t trust you!”

Mirai nodded. “That’s understandable, Izuku needed time to trust me as well but could you please get off my laptop? I have a lot of work to be done.”

Blinking at the human in surprise at the casual way he talked to him, Katsuki did what Mirai asked. He got a small smile from the human that seemed to confuse him further.

——

Katsuki thought he knew everything about humans.

They were cruel, loud and big. That’s all he needed to know. Stay away from humans and never trust any of them.

But then Izuku came back, vouching for a human. He wasn’t stupid: if anything, Izuku was one of the smartest borrowers Katsuki had ever met. For Izuku to be trusting a human, there had to be a good reason.

He figured he may as well try and test the human’s patience while getting an answer to his question. So he stood directly on the human’s laptop, where he couldn’t be ignored.

But Mirai didn’t lash out or even snap at him, even purposefully stopping his work to move his hands away. It was a level of consideration he hadn’t expected out of the human responsible for Izuku disappearing for 3 months.

Maybe… there were a few exceptions to the rules.

——

Introducing other borrowers occurred to me and I just hope that inspiration doesn’t hit like a bus because I already have a good few WIPs and abandoned projects I may revisit.

In The Archives’ Walls- 1/1

Warnings- non-consensual handling, mentions of worms/killing worms. Let me know if I missed any!

Here’s the promised Magnus Archives g/t one shot. In which Jon is the smartest idiot and Martin is along for the ride.

Everyone in the archive was on edge. The worms were everywhere and it was getting on everyone’s nerves.

Martin was probably more annoyed than scared. Those stupid worms meant he had to be doubly as cautious to avoid The Archivist’s — Jonathan Sims, from how the man introduced himself when recording his tapes — notice. The man wouldn’t even spare him a second glance before squashing him like a bug.

Shaking his head, Martin forced himself to focus. If he slipped up now he really would get crushed like those spiders.

Scaling up his rope, Martin heaved himself into the cupboard with a huff. Spooling his rope up, he wandered up to the sleeve of already opened biscuits, pulling two out. He broke them into quarters and shoved them in his satchel.

Buttoning his bag closed, he dug his hook into the ledge of the cupboard and tossed the rest of his thread down. He started to climb down and touched on the counter without issue.

It was as he was fastening his hook to his belt that he saw it.

A worm.

Bracing himself, he grabbed the pin at his waist, drawing it in one swift motion. He knew the worms here had incredibly sharp teeth and he refused to end up a borrower raisin because he got bit.

It didn’t have eyes but it watched him anyway, waiting to strike. He lunged first, stabbing his pin forward, only for the worm to rear back with a shriek.

It struck out and barely missed his arm as he pinned it’s tail with his foot. He slammed his other foot on the middle of it and drove his pin into it’s head. It squirmed for a moment before it fell still.

Pulling his pin free, he put it back in the fabric that made his belt.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

Martin whipped around on his heel, immediately looking up into the eyes of the human who loomed over the counter. Damn it! How did he not notice he was stood there?

The Archivist snatched him up in a clinical grasp, pinning Martin’s arms to his sides and tilting his head up with a thumb, as if he was a rodent about to bite him. Squirming desperately, Martin struggled to force himself to breathe, terror gripping his lungs more than the surprisingly loose grip.

“What are you?” Martin’s stomach dropped as he was lifted even higher, scrutinised by The Archivist’s sharp gaze. The sound of his heart thundering in his chest nearly overpowered the sound of the human’s voice.

Martin wanted to tell The Archivist to go to hell but when he opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “I’m a borrower.” He hastily shut his mouth with an audible click, horrified at how easily he gave that answer up.

“Interesting. I’ve never heard of your existence before.” Jon started walking and Martin swallowed down the bile burning his throat at the swaying motion. “I’m sure I have a spare notebook somewhere,” the man muttered to himself.

He didn’t even want to know what a man like Jon would do to document his existence. Martin would’ve renewed his struggle if he wasn’t suddenly dropped off on a desk. He fell flat on his rear with a gasp.

Scrambling to his feet, Martin snapped his head around to look for an escape. There wasn’t anything for him to even hide behind, no matter use to run and he cursed. He could try scaling down the table but it would take too long.

The Archivist returned after less than a minute with a notebook in one hand and a small box balanced against his hip in the other. The box was set on the table first before he pulled up a chair and set down the notebook, flipping it open to the first page.

“How old are you?” The Archivist asked and Martin blinked incredulously. Was he actually just… asking questions to document his existence? It wasn’t the worst thing that he could’ve been doing, but Martin refused to answer. If the word of borrowers got out, they’d all be screwed.

“I’m 29.” Again the answer came even as he tried to grit his teeth against the compulsion to talk. What the hell was going on?

The Archivist wrote down Martin’s answer in neat cursive. “Do you have a name?”

He tried to spout off a lie. “Martin Blackwood.” came out instead. No! He had to shut up! If he kept answering these stupid questions he’d put every borrower in danger.

“A family name too…” he mumbled, spinning his pen idly between his fingers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Martin asked, making Jon pause in his writing and look at the borrower with a raised eyebrow. As if Matin was the one asking a stupid question.

“Obviously I’m recording your existence. The archives are meant to investigate abnormal occurrences and I’ve never seen or heard of anything like you,” he explained simply. The Archivist seemed to think of something, “Are there more of you here?”

“No.” And thank god that there really weren’t any more borrowers in the building. There’d only been one other borrower and they left soon after the worm infestation started getting worse.

“That’s a pity,” Jon said, sending Martin’s heart pounding again, “With only one specimen I can hardly judge a whole species.”

The fear of being experimented on made itself known and his mind blanked when The Archivist reached for him. He scrambled back but wasn’t fast enough.

“H-hey! D-don’t— put me down!”

The Archivist snatched him up, grabbing something out of the box with his other hand. Kicking at the human’s fingers, Martin struggled desperately.

It didn’t do anything but annoy The Archivist who pinned Martin to his palm, lining something up next to him. He didn’t dare turn his head to see what it was.

“Stop squirming,” The Archivist reprimanded. Those words didn’t seem to hold the same power as his questions but Martin still froze at the underlying threat to his tone. “Hmm… 7.6 centimetres.”

Martin jolted when he was set back down. He saw the thing Jon had held up to him was a ruler and he was split between being offended and relieved. Offence at being treated like some lab rat but relief that he wasn’t a dead lab rat.

This continued as The Archivist took his measurements and wrote down a physical description. It was weird but it could’ve been much worse. Still, annoyance welled up as he was manhandled. If he wanted Martin’s cooperation he could’ve just asked! He knew Martin could talk and understand him.

It was when The Archivist took a photo of him on a polaroid camera that he objected.

“You-you need to get rid of the photo.” he demanded, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. He knew he was shaking like a leaf in the breeze but he couldn’t help it.

The Archivist arched an eyebrow, clearly not at all threatened and only indulging him out of curiosity. “Why?”

He didn’t even need the weird compulsion to the question to blurt out, “It puts other borrowers at risk!”

“I already have a notebook full of information on you. What’s one photo?” Jon asked and Martin wondered if it was meant to be as mocking as he sounded. His face burned.

“It’s- you shouldn’t have either! If anyone finds out about us—” Frustrated fear boiled over and tears poured down his cheeks. Jon reached a hand out but Martin flinched away and he paused.

Jon floundered and pulled back his hand, obviously at a loss for what to do. “Ah… I can- I can tear up the photo if you’d like.” he offered and Martin frantically nodded, trying to bring his breathing back to normal.

There was the sound of tearing paper and Martin wiped away his tears to see Jon dumping a pile of shredded paper into the bin. “Th-thank you,” he stuttered.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to distress you, I was curious.” Jon sat back in the chair at the desk.

“This whole thing’s been pretty ‘distressing’.” Martin muttered bitterly, sinking to sit down and hugging his knees to his chest. The constant adrenaline in his system meant he was exhausted and he muffled a yawn.

Jon winced at his words but didn’t say anything against the sentiment.

“Can I go home?” Martin asked, hoping desperately that Jon wouldn’t try and keep him to make more notes. He wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t—

“Of course! I’m sorry for keeping you like this.” Jon said.

Martin held back a sigh and forced himself to his feet. He wouldn’t give Jon even a second to take it back. “Okay, I’ll be going.”

Jon nodded, probably catching the awkwardness to Martin’s tone. He stood up and took the notebook he’d been writing in, leaving the room.

Martin wasted no time climbing down from the desk and running to the entrance into the walls. He was so glad he’d made one into the room Jon used to record his tapes.

Slamming the entrance behind him, he collapsed against it, heaving deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

Martin was glad to get out of that one alive.

——

I’m not very far into TMA so I may’ve fudged Martin’s character but I tried. Jon gives off such neurodivergent energy so I think he’d absolutely document a borrower. Also the switching between ‘The Archivist’ and ‘Jon’ is very much done on purpose.

Foresight is 20/20- Part 4/4

Warnings: None.

Here we are! The final chapter! It’s pretty short but hopefully sweet enough to balance the angst.

Mirai should’ve known that Mirio wouldn’t forget about the borrowers. The boy had a soft heart and, in hindsight, he’d sounded rather threatening when he said he’d ‘deal with’ them.

“Sir, what did you do with the tiny people?” he asked quietly, hesitating as if he was scared of the answer.

“I came to an… agreement, I suppose.” Mirai said, “But don’t worry, they’re perfectly fine.”

Mirio beamed. “That’s good. Do you know what they are?”

He hesitated. Borrowers kept themselves secret and he wasn’t going to betray the delicate trust developing between him and the two more wary borrowers. Ochako had even recently came to him for help. Izuku had emphasised how much it meant for any of the borrowers to approach willingly and it warmed his heart.

“I can’t say.” He settled on. Mirio pouted but nodded in understanding. His disappointment made Mirai hesitate before he tacked on, “However, I could ask if they would want to talk to you, if you’d like?”

Mirio immediately lit up and nodded enthusiastically, “Thank you, Sir!”

“I can’t guarantee anything.” he cautioned but it didn’t damper Mirio’s excitement. He just nodded and shot off to go on patrol.

Mirai sighed in fondness and shook his head. He really drew all kinds of strange children to him, didn’t he?

He did bring up the idea of the borrowers talking to Mirio the next time he saw them. “Would you three be willing to interact with Mirio?”

Izuku tilted his head up at Mirai with a curious sound. “Why? Did he ask about Ochako and Katsuki?” There was a defensive tone to his voice.

“Yes. He wanted to know if they were alright.” And that really was what Mirio had asked, although in different words. “I told him yes and he asked what they were—” Izuku paled and Mirai quickly finished, “—and I told him I couldn’t say.”

The borrower sagged in visible relief. He then considered the question he’d been asked.

“I might, but I’m not sure about Ochako or Katsuki, I’d have to ask them.” Tapping at his chin, Izuku thought quietly for a moment, “I don’t have anything in particular against it so long as you’re there to supervise.”

Mirai nodded. It was a fair request and he certainly had no problems mediating the meeting. He knew Mirio meant well, but he was overwhelming at the best of times.

“Tell me what you decide and I’ll pass it along to Mirio.” Mirai concluded the conversation.

It was two days later that Izuku came up to him with Ochako by his side. “I-I want to talk to Mirio,” she gushed in one, quick breath, as if scared of losing her nerve if she wasted even a single second.

“And what about Katsuki?” he idly asked. The trio stuck together as much as possible so to be missing the 3rd was unusual.

“He doesn’t want to talk.” Izuku said simply and Mirai accepted the lack of reason. If Katsuki had hesitations, it wasn’t his place to pry.

“Alright, when would you be available to meet him?”

“Now?” Mirai was surprised but agreed easily. He called Mirio to his office and his intern clearly didn’t suspect anything from the surprise on his intern’s face when he saw Izuku perched on Mirai’s shoulder and Ochako cupped in his palm.

Izuku liked the vantage point of Mirai’s shoulder and it was one of Izuku’s favourite places to sit. Mirai suspected that Ochako had only demanded that he held her so she felt safer from Mirio, considering how she trembled as she’d climbed onto his hand. That had nothing on how she clung to his thumb when Mirio entered his office.

“Good morning, Mirio.” he greeted casually, trying to subtly hint that his intern should follow his lead. He did, picking his jaw off the metaphorical floor.

“Good morning, Sir!” Mirio chirped in his usual cheer, although it was noticeably more mild than it usually was. Mirai smiled approvingly.

“Would you two like to introduce yourselves?” he asked and he could feel Izuku jumping in place, his weight not enough to jar his own balance. From the way Mirio’s eyes flickered to his shoulder, he could assume Izuku was likely waving.

“Hi! I’m Izuku, nice to meet you.”

With Izuku’s introduction, Ochako seemed to gain a little confidence and called out in a shaky voice, “I’m Ochako… n-nice to meet you.”

Mirio smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Izuku, Ochako.” He bowed politely to them both. “Before we talk I want to apologise for being so careless in my handling of you and your friend, Ochako.” his bow dipped even deeper.

Ochako looked surprised but a small, sincere smile came to her face. “Thank you for the apology, Mirio.”

“Now that you’ve been properly introduced, feel free to ask any questions you have. No one has any obligations to answer anything. Is that clear?” Mirio and Ochako nodded and he assumed that Izuku did too, although he also hummed in affirmation.

“I call first question!” Izuku declared before continuing, “What’s your Quirk?” Mirai chuckled softly. Izuku had a fascination with Quirks and his analysis was incredible.

Mirio looked surprised but went with it. “My Quirk’s called Permeation! I can turn my body intangible and I can phase through objects,” he explained.

“Oh. That’s so useful—” Izuku started on an excited tangent, which met with Mirio’s own thrilled nature as they bounced the conversation back and forth.

It was as amusing as it was intriguing. They seemed to fuel each other, the back and forth made it seem like they’d known each other for years and not the 10 minutes they’d spent in the same room.

Even Ochako seemed to pluck up the nerve to occasionally add to the conversation. At one point, she’d shyly asked to be set down, so she ended up perched on the edge of Mirai’s desk, watching with rapt attention as Mirio started telling the story of his 2nd year sports festival.

It was a surprisingly domestic scene.

But it was nice, to see such a lighthearted conversation in a relaxed atmosphere. Mirai figured he could certainly get used to it.

——

And here’s we have the final chapter. I just wanted some fluff and it felt like leaving a lose thread to mention Mirio only to have him never actually talk to the borrowers.

The Trancy Hospitality- 1/?

Warnings: Mentions of vore but none take place, mentions of broken bones,

This was inspired by one of the prompts I saw a while back on @thelittledovewriter’s account! I have a concept for the second part but haven’t got anything written yet.

Thunder rumbled through the dark and I flinched as lightning illuminated the massive manor towering before me. Rain hammered against the windows and I huddled into my cloak as I darted along the wall.

There had to be some way into the manor. A mouse hole or something! Anything to get out of the rain.

It was sheer luck I found a crack big enough for me to enter the grand manor. My clothes were still soaking wet and the chill had long since numbed my body, but it was better than being out in the storm.

A sharp pain ripped through my stomach and I winced, hissing in a quiet breath. I needed to find something to eat soon. How long had it been since I ate something? A day or so?

I couldn’t risk it. Trying to get food when I didn’t know who would notice was a stupid idea. The manor was the grand kind that probably had some crazy noble that would try and keep me as an exotic pet.

Instead, I looked for the best place to hide until the storm passed over.

Another crash of lightning startled me as I squinted at the shadows that seemed to shift. I shivered in unease. There was a strange quality to the darkness that set me on edge. It felt like they were following me, prepared to rush forward and devour me at any moment.

Shaking my head, I refocused on my task, glancing up at the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. Without any light, I couldn’t judge how long the hallway was.

Behind me came a rhythmic clicking and my heart stopped.

No, no, no—

There was nowhere to hide!

“What a delightful morsel you’ll make unless you immediately tell me why you are here.”

I whipped around on my heel and had to crane my neck up to even catch a glimpse of the human who’d discovered me. I only caught the glimmering of amber eyes lit by a candelabra before a strike of lightning illuminated a gaunt, pale face and neatly combed black hair.

A fine eyebrow raised expectantly and I remembered that he was expecting an answer and I scrambled to get my frozen tongue to work.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude! I was just looking for a place to wait out the storm.” I hastily explained, choking on the words as I plunged into a bow. I could guess that he wasn’t a noble from the plain black of his clothes but he could easily take me to his master so I didn’t risk offending him.

Raising from my bow, I looked up, flinching as I saw that he had knelt in the brief second I looked away. The golden eyes felt like spotlights, pinning me in place as I trembled.

“How interesting.” In my distraction with the man’s eyes, I didn’t notice his hand until it wrapped around me in a surprisingly lax grip. “I suppose I should offer you the hospitality of the Trancy household for such a polite request.”

I barely bit back a shriek as I was plucked up, clenching my eyes shut so I didn’t have to face the all to real possibly of being dropped. When the grip on me shifted, I opened my eyes, relieved to just be sat in the butler’s palm instead of clutched in a fist.

Forcing myself to breathe, I tried to calm my racing mind. I hadn’t been hurt. All I needed to do was stay polite and not offend the butler literally keeping my life in his hands.

“What is your name?” The raven haired man asked, golden eyes watching me instead of where he was walking.

“My name is Elias, sir.” I answered, bowing my head where I sat.

“I am Claude Faustus, a pleasure.” His voice was monotone but it was better than him being angry.

I wondered where he was taking me but didn’t get to ask before we arrived in what looked to be the kitchen. It was too dark for me to make much out but Claude didn’t seem to have the same issue. He moved without even looking at his surroundings, still focused completely on me.

It was unnerving, to say the least.

“What would you like to eat?” Claude asked, setting his hand on the counter, where I quickly stepped off.

“I don’t have any preference, sir.” I watched as he started pulling out ingredients that I didn’t recognise. I didn’t know why he was even bothering to make me something to eat but I wasn’t about to question his kindness.

“I’ll be making crepes.” Claude explained and I nodded like I knew what he meant, “I was already going to come make them, considering I’m famished.” I resolutely didn’t comment on the way he stared directly into my eyes as he spoke. I tried not to shiver at the glimpse of his sharp teeth as he licked his lips.

It wasn’t much better, watching his hands that could so easily crush me, but it was preferable to the reminder that I was a one bite snack. Claude was efficient and it was mesmerising to watch.

As he started pouring the batter into a pan, he turned to me, “What would you like with yours?” he asked before listing off a few options. Fruit, chocolate and a few other things that I don’t recognise by the names alone.

“Chocolate, please.” I said. I didn’t get sweet things often and with the chance to have chocolate, it was too good to give up.

Claude managed to find a tiny plate and offered me a stack of appropriately sized crepes, drizzled with chocolate. My stomach growled but I stood to do a quick bow first. “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome.” he responded, plating a few for himself. I quickly looked away when he started eating, taking huge bites and tearing through the crepes ravenously.

I tried not to think how easily the same could be done to me.

Instead, I focused on my own food, savouring each bite and trying not to make a mess out of myself. I mostly succeeded but my hands were sticky and I was sure there was at least a slight smear of chocolate on my face.

“I’ll draw you a bath.” Again Claude plucked me up, holding me by the back of my shirt. I couldn’t quell my yelp and my heart thudded like it was trying to break my ribs as I stared at the floor.

The drop would shatter my entire body.

I couldn’t bring myself to protest, terror again weighing on my tongue as I was dangled from Claude’s grasp like a doll. Struggling would only risk him dropping me and I just tried to ignore it. I didn’t know him and anything could set him off.

——

Claude was rather enjoying this unexpected turn of events.

He’d never seen a borrower for himself before, considering they avoided humans like a plague. A demon was even more avoided, considering borrowers had souls and were much easier to devour than a human.

They were tiny, easily something Claude could completely encompass in his fist.

His initial plan had just been to tease them before devouring them. But then they’d actually answered his question and they were so /polite/. Even amongst humans it was a rarity to be talked to in such a well-mannered way.

It was adorable.

With their manners, he knew that they hadn’t quite figured out he was a demon and Claude found himself thrilled. This could very well serve an interesting game for the night.

The long game had never been Claude’s preference, but he figured he may as well play a game with the borrower. How long would it take for the fear bubbling inside their heart to spill over? How long before they snapped and broke?

It was subtle at first.

Picking them up only got a flinch but devouring the crepes seemed to have unnerved them and brought their attention his inhumanly sharp teeth. There was still no recognition and they kept their polite attitude.

They barely even screamed when he picked them up and dangled them in his grip. It was actually impressive, their level of control over their emotions.

Still, he took them to the guest bathroom and pulled out a small dish usually used for guests to wash their hands. He filled it with warm water and added a pinch of bathing salts, setting a small hand cloth by the basin.

“Leave your dirty clothes out, I’ll find you something clean to wear.” he said, already thinking of the most embarrassing doll outfit he could bring for them. Something they could still sleep in, considering the late hour.

For their privacy, he kept his back to them when he reentered the bathroom.

“Do you have any hobbies, Mr Faustus?” Elias asked and he was again surprised at the attempt at casual conversation.

“Yes. I tap dance.” He decided to humour them.

“I’ve never seen anyone tap dance. Is it difficult?” Elias asked and Claude found himself surprised at the genuine curiosity in their voice.

“I suppose, but I’ve had years of practice so it comes rather easily to me.” he explained and there was a hum and the sound of splashing water.

“That’s amazing!” And their awe was so sincere that he couldn’t find it in himself to snark at them. “Would you be willing to do a demonstration?” they asked.

“After you’ve finished with your bath, I would be more than happy to.” Claude found himself equally genuine in his response.

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem at all.” And it really wasn’t. They were polite and the interest in his hobbies was foreign. Alois only took an interest if he wanted Claude to entertain their guests using his tap dancing as an oddity that guests could fawn over while complementing the young Earl for having such a talented servant. It was, quite frankly, annoying, but he put up with it for the sake of the soul he was to consume when his contract finished.

There was a brief pause of silence before there was the sound of dripping water and the shuffling of cloth. “Finished,” Elias announced and Claude glanced over his shoulder, seeing they’d wrapped themself in the cloth.

Setting down the nightgown, a frilly pink thing with extravagant silver embroidery and lace, Claude watched the look of sheer awe that came to their face. They didn’t seem offended by the gaudiness, looking more enamoured with the details of the garment.

“Thank you. It’s so pretty!” Elias bowed to him before he turned his back to give them privacy while they changed.

It was only when he stared at them, dressed in fresh clothes, that Claude wondered why he’d gone through the effort. Elias was just a lowly pest to be devoured when he inevitably got bored of them.

So why did he find himself hesitating? He should end the farce of politeness and take care of the pest already!

But he didn’t.

It was strange, but he found himself regarding their presence as… charming. Pleasant, almost.

He sneered internally. How could a demon like himself feel fondness on any level, especially for a vermin? It made no sense.

There was absolutely no way that Claude Faustus was going soft.

——

Writing Claude is interesting because obviously demons think in different terms to humans and, frankly, Elias is only alive because they’re holding his attention.

G/tober Day 6- Jars

Warnings: Mild dehumanising behaviour. Let me know if I missed any

A continuation of day 3’s ‘Overgrown’ prompt, featuring sassy Virgil. The prompt comes from @aaytaro-gt’s prompt list.

When Virgil came to, he’d expected to be in his bed with afternoon light streaming through the window.

So why, when he looked around after his abrupt awakening, was he faced with a human?

It instantly set off every alarm bell in his mind and he yelped, wings fluttering in preparation to dart past the human. He didn’t get the chance when the lid of the box he was trapped in was slammed shut.

Virgil was then jostled around as the human, presumably, started moving.

After a long few minutes of being tossed from wall to wall inside his prison, he finally settled at the bottom as the box was set down upright. The lid opened and while Virgil was blinded by the sudden onslaught of light, a shadow fell over him and the human snatched him up.

The grip was like that of a scientist, firm in keeping his wings pinned as well as his arms. A thumb was wedged under his chin as if Virgil was going to bite like some animal.

He was dumped into a glass container, barely avoiding landing on his wings. Scrambling to his feet, he swayed unsteadily as the human lifted the oddly shaped bottle to his face, distorted through the glass. He briefly debated if it was worth a bent wing to try and fly out before he squashed the idea.

“What are you?” he asked and Virgil hissed in response, bearing his teeth in an obvious threat. While he could instinctually understand any human language, the warped form of English coming from the human was unusual to him. How long had he been locked away?

“There’s hardly need for that.” The human said and Virgil couldn’t feel more patronised if he tried. Being stuck in a human’s presence was more than enough reason to be angry. It was easier to be angry than scared.

“Maybe when you summon the manners to have a civil conversation without trapping the other involved, I’ll have the respect to treat you civilly in return,” Virgil spat, wings flaring in indignation. The audacity to expect civility when the human had been such a terrible host was laughable.

Surprisingly, a bashful expression came over the man’s face and he looked chastised at Virgil’s words. “Ah, apologies, I wasn’t quite sure how to go about this. I’ve never seen one of your species before: what are you?” he asked and Virgil furrowed his brow.

“The question should be what my name is, but since you seem to be skipping pleasantries, I’ll start. Who are you?” Virgil leaned back against the glass, aiming for an air of casualness while his hands fidgeted with the fabric of his tunic. So far he was fine, nothing had been done to him.

Red crept across the man’s face and again he averted his eyes, “My name’s Logan.” He mumbled, “And you are?”

“Virgil,” he introduced curtly. “Are you going to let me out or continue gaping?”

——

Yes, there is a reason Virgil speaks so formally. In this, he would’ve been a prince and begrudgingly he would’ve learned the proper manner.

Ooh boy! First tma g/t here we go!

...

Proposition

Tw for fear play and general Elias-ery, panic attack I think? Spiraling/circling thoughts

...

Jon used to love living in the institute. He could see all different kinds of humans and here what they were scared of. Not to say it was comforting, knowing the creatures that towered over him could feel small and terrified like he could...

But it was definetly comforting knowing that the creatures that towered over him could feel small and terrified like he could.

The lady, "Archivist" Gertrude read the stories out loud, and Jon, from when he was a little boy, had always been entranced. Much to his grandmother's chagrin, he would stand at the edge of the wall entrance to her office and listen.

He found himself wandering the walls to her office even more, after the spider. Too big, too spindly, hypnotizing. Jon was lucky a chair bumped onto the wall he was in, snapping him out of the terror of the spider and into the terror of the human.

A few years after that, Gertrude didn't show up to work. The day after, people were in and out of her office like ants in a line. The man with the clicky shoes- Elias bossed people around as they lifted boxes of stuff out of the room.

One of these days, Jon was on the book shelf. He enjoyed going behind the old dusty books and being pressed against, like knowledge was giving him a hug. Of course he could never read that big a book, it'd take him ten minutes to turn the page, but it was comforting.

That's where Jon was when he heard the clicking shoes. Elias. He froze in place, not breathing or moving a muscle. The office had been finished being cleaned out a week prior. Surely he wouldn't look at the dusty old books NOW.

"I Know you're there."

Jon bit his tongue. What the hell. He must be talking to someone else, there was no chance he saw Jon, and there's nothing Jon left behind that would make a human think "borrower" first, rather than "a few scraps of string I need to pick up".

No, there was no way Elias was talking to him.

Jon was thrown out of his thoughts at the book he was behind shifted, pulling away from him and letting the too bright lights filter onto the shelf where he was.

"Jon."

Shit.

Okay okay okay. Elias peered down at him. It's fine, he just needed to shimee behind the shelf to get out. But that takes a few seconds, and that might prompt Elias to try and pick him up. But he was exposed, standing there and breathing so hard that all the archives could hear.

He couldn't tall he couldn't think he couldn't BREATH-

Jon has lived in this place long enough to know what humans did to things they found unnatural. Maybe Jon would be in a box in a cabinet for the rest of his life. Or dissected. Or just killed like any other pest, an intruder. In his own home.

Jon backed up into the wall and shrunk into the shadow. Please no please god no-

"Oh cone on," Elias picked him up with ease, wrapping a hand around the full length of his torso like it was nothing. Jon yelped as his whole body was washed over mith motion. "Don't be like that. I thought you were interested in what we did here."

Jon was placed on a hard metal surface- a desk. He tried to back up again, not wanting to crane his neck up to look at that already way bigger than he thought human, but was stopped by Elias's cold hands.

Elias's eyes cut into him more than any scalpel could. Jon felt like his insides were already open to study. He was frigid cold, but his face and chest were damp with sweat. His breathing was unsteady, and the intake of cold air made him shiver.

"Do you have any other friends?"

"No." The answer spilt out of him. Jon gasped, slapping a habit over his mouth.

He felt like he was looking up at the spider.

"Hm," Elias hummed. He chuckled. "I can assure you I am no spider, Jon. And though I do wait for my prey to come to me-"

At that he bapped Jon on the head with a single finger, ruffling his dark hair.

"I do not intend to kill so quickly," Elias smiled. Jon didn't like Elias's smile, he decided. "I prefer my patience to be rewarded handsomely. What do you know of the archives and the institute?"

"I've lived here my whole life, humans come in here to tell stories of scary and abnormal things that have happened to them," Jon's mind raced to answer Elias was quickly as possible. "Sometimes there's scary objects and they're all kept in a room my grandmother wouldn't let me go into. The Archivist read some written stories out loud and she has been gone for two weeks. There used to be... actually a lot more people before she worked alone."

Elias hummed again. "Very astute. I would have thought someone of your sort would have wanted to keep themselves as far away from the host it leeches off of."

Elias cut off his back handed compliment and returned his full focus to Jon, pulling in his arms closer to force Jon to scuttle closer to him.

"I've caught you," Elias stated the obvious. Jon still felt his mouth go dry. "So you're not exactly in a position to refuse anything I offer you. So here's how this will work. You will fulfill Gertude's roll in reading statements and being the Archivist and you can continue living in the archives."

"And the catch?" Jon said automatically. He had heard Gertrude say that to plenty of people. The lady with the books. Her assistant that could pull any string. The boy with black hair.

Elias didn't like that much.

Hands encased Jon, compressing him tight to the point he could Varela breath. With how short and fast Jon was getting air, he doubted he'd last more than a minute like this.

"The catch is same as it always has been," Elias glared. "I can See you at any moment, I could do away with you whenever I want. I can send another spider on you, I'm sure my friend would just LOVE that. I can give you to any monster I want. I See and Know you, and all these years I let you live in comfort and ignorance. So just be thankful, and don't try and get anything else out of me."

The hands released their pressure, allowing Jon to breath. But they were still around him.

"Do you accept?"

It wasn't something he could say no to, Elias already made that clear. The fact he was asking was anything if a little insulting.

"No one can know I'm here," Jon balled his fists, looking back at Elias. "I'm... humans shouldn't know we exist."

Elias sighed. "I suppose that doesn't necessarily detriment your new job. And I do like the idea of a secret only I know. No one shall know of your existence."

Jon flinched back. If someone knew he was here, even if it was a human, they could have saved him.

"I'll... I'll do it." Jon nodded.

Elias smiled. God, did Jon loathe that smile already. "Excellent."

Elias swiftly opened a drawer, nearly throwing Jon inside. He hit the rougher wood with a thud.

"Ex- excise me!" Jon shouted up, doing his best to stay cordial as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. "You said- I thought I wad able to return to my home!"

"Oh Jon," Elias tsked, looking down on him. The walls were not quite double his height, but still impossible to climb without his equipment. "I said you can stay in the archives, didn't I? I'm simply restricting your access. Besides, here I can watch you and make sure no one else will see you. You'll be much safer in here than in some dusty walls, where another less... compassionate human could find you, or where another spider could get you for good this time.

Jon covered his ears as the drawer slid close, the world going completely dark. Jon tried to keep his sobs quiet, knowing it was futile to keep up a defiant facade if Elias could "See" him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Archivist," Elias's shoes clicked towards the door. "And don't worry, I'll have some friends to keep you company soon."

Jon pressed himself into a corner. Stale dusty air ripped through his lungs as he cried himself to sleep.

I completely forgot to post this here so here’s the link to a new work I made. There’s only one chapter so far but the next should be finished soon-ish

Oliver sees humans (child or not) that are in abusive or dangerous situations and usually steps in to help. He also benefits from having befriended a human police officer to call if things are really bad.

He goes from house to house, mapping out human cities and marking down human behaviors or reading human books to then copy down for his library. Oliver plans to have a borrower society with education, maps, medicine, transportation, a functioning trading system, etc all whilst remaining a secret to humans. He's not even close to finishing it, and knows that he won't finish before death comes for him, but he has come a long way and has improved the lives of many borrowers in his efforts.

Going house to house involves him recording schedules, house members, etc, then he leaves that information available for if and when a borrower moves in and updates the information every year. He is always working. But this also means he sometimes comes across houses with humans who are in need of help. Whether it is a matter of mental illness, abuse, physical illness, he offers his services to humans in need. Occasionally this has gotten him injured or temporarily trapped, but Oliver always manages to find a way out.

He's so good and I love him

I have delayed this LONG ENOUGH

It is time

For the world(outside of the TMNT g/t Server)to know.

About the Scrap Metal AU

SO

essentially this Au is just: Borrower Donnie

I’m writing a short(pun intended) fic for it (Donnie is extremely ooc mostly cuz I haven’t taken the time to analyze the characters in rise and take notes on how to portray them, BUT that’s not the point)

Anyways in the meantime take some doodles and silly little details abt the au:

(Not all of these doodles are mine btw, it’s a combination of doodles from me and an online friend on a whiteboard)

Donnie’s battle shell is made of exclusively purple legos that he melted together.

He was separated from his bros when Draxum’s lab exploded and Splinter thought he’d lost his fourth son (nOPE, he is still alive)

He wasn’t a borrower at first, the first few years of his life he grew up on the streets of the hidden city, stealing food and whatnot from street vendors to stay alive.

He found a mystic crystal one day and upon touching it BOOM tiny

Eventually after getting lost in the sewers in the human world, he finds the lair (and the other turtles/Splinter), and decides to stay there.

About 8 or so years pass by before they find out about him

He ends up ABSOLUTELY DESTROYING ALL OF LEO’S HIGH SCORES in the arcade one night and that’s how the name Don comes about (before that he just went by Purple)

April is the one who has the idea to call him Donatello (like the artist… LIKE HIS BROTHERS)

Anyways a little while after seeing how angry Leo is about this mysterious Don character beating all his Highscores, Donnie starts to get more cocky and eventually straight up gets caught.

Leo is the one who catches him

He doesn’t know what to do with the lil guy so he just kinda puts him in a jar

“Hey Bros look what I found”

“WTF LEO YOU DONT JUST PUT PEOPLE IN JARS”

He’s a borrower so SHIT BE LOUD so he made little noise canceling headphones to make shit quieter

His scarf is something he first found in the hidden city, it’s how he got the name Purple (the scarf was purple, and whenever he stole food from street vendors they would always curse him out and yell stuff at him using the name Purple)

SILLY US

:3

Mine and my friends borrower sonas being silly :3 (sona designs by me)

Borrower on the top left: @arigoofygoober

Borrower with mouse ears: Andy

Borrower in the middle: me :3(Kj)

Borrower on the right: Sam

Happy G/t July Everyone! I know I'm a bit late, but I just wanted to say that I'm going to try and participate! The main thing I'm going to be drawing for it is an Aphmau Borrower AU I've been tinkering with. If you don't know who Aphmau is, she's an amazing and hilarious YouTuber, so if you want, go check her out!

Day Nine: Rainy Day

Finally started! I chose Noi to be an outdoor borrower since he's more into animals and nature than anything, so he wouldn't really like to be cooped up in the walls of a house. The eyes are always the hardest part for me like srsly.

Day 10: Ancient

Kim the stowaway. I imagine her being both an indoor and outdoor borrower, so I decided to have her travel with a family of humans around the world, that family being Garte and Garoth. This is also how Vylad is going to be introduced later on.

Day 11: Melancholy

Baby Vylad after loosing his parents. ;-;

I love the idea of the forest creatures creating a truce just so they can all take care of the child. Must protecc.

Day 12: Video Games

This is a concept I got from a fanfiction on Wattpad, don't remember the name but it was hilarious, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Aaron dropped his phone under the bed, Aph stole it because curious, Aaron got a new phone, and they started playing together online. Aphmau has been in the Lycan household for a while now, so she's seen enough to understand technology.

His little blep of concentration omi-

Day 13: Banter

I know it's really late, I just went on a trip to the beach with my family and had no time to post.

Anyway boys quiet down Mac's getting suspicious-

Day 14: Instrument

Blaze & Dottie: Chill with tiny person in house.

Daniel: Oblivious to being caught, just likes the music.