Dyal



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    It storms often now.

    Aizawa Shouta is a depressed pro hero only a few years out of high school, struggling to rekindle his love for humanity and the cruel world that lost him his best friend. Perhaps what he finds in the box in the alley after a patrol is the culmination of his bitterness for the people he's sworn to protect... or maybe it's the start of something tiny and bright and hopeful.

    Who would have thought that the stormiest night would bring a little sunshine into his life?

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    24 Sep 2025

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    Sir Nighteye was as straight laced as they come. Despite his appreciation for humor, he was a strict, to the letter sort of hero that never, absolutely never, deviated from his usual moral code.

    So, as the detective took a giant gulp of his cold coffee, he can easily justify his reaction to the Pro’s words and the truth that pinged in his head as the man spoke them. “I am currently plotting a homicide.”

    The detective spat the disgusting coffee all across his desk.

    It was just supposed to be a normal goddamn Tuesday.

    -Or-

    The fic in which little seven year old Izuku Midoriya finds himself adopted both legally and spiritually by a horde of Pro Heroes that he unknowingly has wrapped around his finger.

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    16/?
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    24 Sep 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "Soap!" Gaz snaps. "Get the fuck out of there and to the ship! I can't override the take-off, you know that!"

    "Ah'm stuck," Soap admits, swallowing harshly. "Coilhead in front of me, bracken behind. Can't move."

    "Damn it," Gaz rasps, his voice thick with grief. As their junker pack Alpha, he takes their personnel losses hard, and Soap has been running with Price and Gaz for months now. Enough for them to bond, for them to get used to one another, to feel that close connection all packs share back on the last planets that still support human life the way it used to be. "Soap, I can't… I…"

    "Get to the Company, turn in the quota," Soap demands, his voice steadier than he feels. "I'll try to find some power to keep my walkie on. Then…if ye can…"

    "We're coming back for you," Gaz says sternly. "We're coming back. Don't die on me, Tav."

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    23 Sep 2025

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    Just as he’s weighing his very limited options he hears a soft scraping sound and a broken mewl, so he curiously turns his gaze back towards the cat-

    Only to feel his eye go wide when he sees it slowly dragging itself backwards towards Shouta, mouth clamped tightly around the corner of what appears to be his phone.

    He can’t help but stare in disbelief, only snapping out of his stupor when the cat stumbles and lets out a pained huff. It curls in on itself and goes concerningly still, and after a few seconds Shouta realizes it’s letting out the faint rumble of a distressed purr.

    Aizawa can't recall how he ended up injured in a dingy, dark alleyway, but at least he has the company of the weirdest cat he's ever seen.

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    16 Sep 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 93

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    Morning coffee with Price. Evening food runs with Gaz. Ghost at night. Like clockwork. Like… they’d planned it.

    “You’re takin’ shifts,” Soap said, staring.

    Price didn’t look up. “Aye.”

    “You—what?”

    “Making sure you’re following orders.” He flicked the paper to a new page, as if this was the most mundane admission in the world. “And that you’ve got what you need.”

    ——————
    Post-mission downtime turns into a slow unravelling of boundaries, as Soap recovers from a busted knee, and fails to keep his mouth shut. Or: the Poly141 fic I've been promising (re: threatening)

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    English
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    11/11
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    09 Sep 2025