#altered-karma

“Just look at it, Shouto! Just, imagine! Not a single quadric nanometer up there is without light and potential! Everything is so far away, and yet it’s all right here at our fingertips!”

‘Itineris Ex Magnum Astris’ by Altered-Karma 

Bonus read: ‘UA Fleet Intelligence Manual’

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Here’s my first piece for @tododekubigbang 2020! Much appreciation and thanks to my wonderful partner @altered-karma for creating such an inspiring and fascinating sci-fi universe for their story! It’s heartwarming, so richly detailed, and kicks off with a blast! Check out their fic in the link! 

Author: Karma

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Under a sea of lanterns and firework jellies (I see your dragonfly heart take flight, ignite)

“Have fun! Be safe! LINE me when you get home.” Izuku sighs as his friends disappear into the crowds.

Ochako had promised Tsuyu some goldfish, and Kaminari and Iida had a whole date itinerary planned out. The Kendo-Pony-Momo-and-Kyouka quartet were already off on their own double date.

Leaving Izuku as the lonely, singular wheel wobbling down the road. It’s a better existence than the unnecessary third or fifth or even ninth wheel, but being extra always stings at gatherings like this.

Izuku would go home, but there are fireworks to be had, and a surplus of sparklers to light and watch die out.

Heaving the bucket with him, Izuku walks for a long while, until he reaches the old Hachiman shrine that’s leagues away from all the festivities. The worn, faded white torii is settle atop one of the scarce hills in the middle of town, and as such it is always Izuku’s preferred firework viewing spot. He climbs up the grassy incline, clutching his yukata and sparklers close, and slips only once on the wet grass as he goes; he thanks the god of the shrine for the green color of his festival-wear. Finally, Izuku settles well above the line of most buildings, and the world with its busy routines and individual stories passes him by makes him feel small and invisible in the best of ways. His spot, being as far away as it is from the festivities, is completely unoccupied except for himself, and he relishes in, at least, the solitude that the area grants him.

If Izuku weren’t feeling so damn lonely and miserable, he might even feel giddy over the fact that he gets this view to himself.

As it stands, he’s just counting down the minutes until the light show starts.

Start it does, with a few test shots to draw Izuku out of his own head.

The light show is fantastic, as it is every year. Fireworks launch to musical numbers and themes, and two shows even do the same song, a Halloween classic if his American friends are to be believed.

The one that steals his breath, however, is the one set to delicate piano music. Fireworks pop in place, then another, and the effect almost looks like a dragon chasing something in between and around the stars. Firework shells hover and float gently across the night sky, and at one point there are so many of these shells in the air that it seems like a group of fireflies have been unleashed, or like the stars are being brought unto the earth itself. It’s magnificent, it’s mesmerizing, the way the wind blows and curls the smoke around him makes his world feel small and foreign, exotic and the flickers of colored smoke that drift down from the fireworks only add to the mystique of the show’s magic.

Eventually, however, that show ends, and Izuku is left half-listening to the introduction of sponsors and themes for the next group.

Something soft tickles his nose; it seems like one of the parachutes that held the fireworks aloft had come to say hi.

It’s kinda cute, Izuku thinks, it almost looks like a jellyfish. A few bob on the wind in front of him, and he tells them, “A firework jellyfish! That’s what you are!”

As the wind picks up, more of these so-called firework jellies drift downwards toward him, and soon it feels like he’s ended up in some sort of jellyfish field. Some of them still carrying glowing embers and ashes, and the way the small lights from the mirage echo throughout the thin paper makes Izuku feel like he’s opened his eyes to a world underwater in the middle of the day. Lights dance and flicker like candlelight or sunbeams over the thin caps of the firework jellies, and each jelly picks up the light from the next, so that light is everywhere with no definitive source.

It’s only when the sounds of the festival change that he starts trying to escape from the sudden swarm. There’s a snarling nearby that makes Izuku think of the frequent warnings that have been coming about bear sightings, and for one second he’s terrified that one of the beasts has made it into the heart of town.

But as his sight clears and the swarm of jellyfish depart, he sees that the snarling thing is no bear at all. It looks like a flying worm, with a mane of furious red and white hair down its body and teal scales sprinkled in amongst the silver.

It looks almost like one of the dragons of legend.

Izuku hadn’t been aware that a dragon kite had been part of the parade. Or that they had been made so flexible and mobile in the past year.

Something splatters on his cheek, and pieces of paper whap him in the face as the dragon passes over head.

The liquid turns out to be blood, when he drags his fingers through the wetness to examine it, and the papers? Little people cut out of rice paper that take off into the air when he peels them off of him. One of them flutters angrily at him when he pinches its tail to take a closer look. He lets it go in fright, and it immediately soars off after its fellows.

“Ah! Sorry!” He calls after it, but it is impossible to see against the shroud of night.

Izuku peers once more at the blood, and frowns. Was the dragon real? Was it hurt?

Izuku decides, in the small part of his brain not currently occupied with screaming about the existence of dragons, that yes, it must be real, and yes, it must be hurt. That small piece of brain also concludes that it might be the fault of those paper men, and so Izuku hurries to grab his sparklers and lighter.

He sets a handful of them in a fan pattern, and yells for the dragon. “Mr. Dragon! Down here!”

By some miracle or breath of wind, his words are carried up to the dragon, and it arcs into the sky before nosediving at him. Izuku ignites his sparklers and holds them in the sea of papers that trail the dragons, and soon enough, the whole flock is aflame. The dragon hovers behind him and admires his handiwork.

When the sparklers have run their course and the little monsters not but soot and ash in the breeze, Izuku drops the spent impromptu weapons into the water bucket. He stiffens when he realizes that the dragon’s snout is now right behind him, and he can feel breath both searing and freezing through the back of his thin, sweaty summer yukata. His hair stands on end, but after a moment’s stillness, during which the dragon chooses kindly not to eat him, Izuku slowly turns to look into its eyes.

“Wow, even your eyes are two-toned…” Izuku mutters in awe. Because it’s true. Where the dragon’s mane is red and white, where its scales are silver and teal, the dragon’s eyes are brown and blue and striking. All fear is forgotten, even though teeth as big as Izuku’s forearm are hovering near his heart, and instead Izuku chooses to gawk awkwardly at the magnificent creature before him. Even when it opens its maw, the fear does not return, though Izuku isn’t sure if he’s been bewitched or is simply shocked stupid.

“Human.” Comes a soothing voice.

“Uh, ah, yes?”

“You have saved me.”

Izuku scrubs his head, and his hand comes away sooty. “Not really? I just, felt kind of bad that you were being attacked?” A huff of that hot-cold breath has him opening his mouth before he can think his words through. “You’re a dragon, and you can breathe fire, right? Why didn’t you use that to defend yourself?”

The mismatched eyes blink at him. “Because that is exactly what those infernal things were designed to do. I refuse to breathe the fire I inherited from my sire.”

Izuku quickly translates that into normal human speak. “But, but, your father isn’t the one breathing fire for protection here, you are?”

The dragon snorts, and gradually raises its massive head into the night sky, graceful and slow as any swan. “I wouldn’t expect a human like you to understand.” He coils like he’s preparing to launch into the dark shroud around them.

“Wait!” Izuku calls. The teal eye peers down on him. “You’re still hurt. Can I see? I may not know how to treat dragon wounds, but I’m still first aid certified, and I wouldn’t feel right letting you leave without having at least checked out your injuries, and I may not be able to help, but at least you’d know-“

The dragon cuts him off. “Very well.”

Izuku blinks. “Really? I mean, okay. Can you come back down here so I can get a closer look?”

The dragon swoops down once more, obligingly. “You’re a funny little thing, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, I mean, uh, maybe?” Izuku busies himself with looking at the scrapes and paper burs on the dragon’s snout and behind his head. Some of the redness in his mane is from blood, and with a careful hand, Izuku scoops a small handful of water from his bucket and pours it carefully over the non-wounded but bloody parts. Eventually, the ruff of fur runs clean, and Izuku steps back. “All good, sir.”

“…Shouto.” His voice resonates deep like thunder, and comes out of nowhere.

Izuku jumps a little; they’d been silent for so long he hadn’t been expecting a response. He’d figured the dragon would just leave once he gave the all clear. “Shouto, sir.”

The dragon’s form… gurgles? It bubbles and rolls, and soon the dragon explodes into a thousand paper petals. What’s left is a man about Izuku’s age, with striking red and white hair, and eyes that are equally as mismatched. He stands primly in a kagirinu, and he stares in Izuku in way that can only be described as mystified. His voice, when Shouto speaks, is far less thunderous, but no less soothing and mellow. “How did you come to the spirit layer, Izuku?”

Izuku can’t recall having ever given the dragon his name. “I… don’t know? There were firework jellies and then…”

“Firework jellies?” Izuku sees Shouto’s lips and nose twitch.

‘Yeah? The little caplet things that float down after a firework has gone off.” Izuku feels kind of silly for naming them, now.

“No, no, I understand.” Shouto sighs, looks around, and holds out his arm to Izuku. “Would you… like to be shown around? I can give you a tour before you return to the human realm.”

Izuku looks around for the first time, and takes in the world. It is night here too, and a blood red, full moon hovers overhead, low and heavy and dripping into the shimmering black waters below it. The world is aglow in flickers of candlelight and red festival lanterns, and Izuku can feel the beat of drums and whistles of the flute inside his chest just as much as he can hear them. “Yes, please!”

Shouto holds out an arm. “Then, allow me.”

Izuku takes it delicately, and is immediately swept down into the heart of the town. The crowds milling here feel the same in energy, but appearance-wise differ so much that Izuku would have to be blind and dumb to miss it. If the dragon-human standing beside him wasn’t proof enough that he was in a different world, then the sight of these bird-headed, many armed, and multicolored peoples would certainly be proof. Several greet Shouto, and gaze curiously at Izuku, but they hardly stop to talk.

“You mustn’t stay longer than the dawn, but there’s much to be seen at this time of year.” Shouto whispers into his ear. They’re moving towards the water, Izuku can tell by the way the moon looms closer in all its red glory.

“That’s okay! I have to go back at some anyways, my friends will worry!” They settle onto some pavement with a view of the lake, or maybe it’s an ocean?

“Mm.”

More of the strange people flutter around, in the stalls and streets behind them, on the shore below, across the water. “Shouto, do you know why I’m here?”

The dragon huffs, and doesn’t look him in the eye. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Izuku leans forward to catch his gaze, to no avail.

“No.” The dragon nods to a feathered man who approaches them, who immediately backs away. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“The show is starting.” Drums start pounding in unison rhythm, and they steal the breath from Izuku’s chest before he can continue with his line of questioning. It’s difficult to talk and even think, when the world trembles so under the weight of the percussion. Screaming whistles accompany shrieking burst of wind, and light filters slowly onto the water. Izuku is so mesmerized by the way the warm firelight interacts with the red light of the moon that it’s only when Shouto places a clawed hand under his chin and guides his gaze upwards that he notices where the secondary lights are coming from.

Ships sail across the water, shallow boats with large masts, but instead of being buffeted across the water by sheet sails, lanterns fill the spaces instead. An unmanned fleet of these pour into view, and they swirl once within the waters before heading to shore. As the boats reach the shallows and the ‘sails’ loom overhead, the wood flats morph into animated stick-like men, who pass the masts to waiting people before shambling back into the water.

The men carry their new acquisitions through barely-there paths in the crowds, and as Izuku watches them bounce along the road, embers spark and fly into the night sky.

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“Come on.” Shouto tugs him to his feet, and they join the ensemble of people who follow the impromptu parade down the road. As they move, music joins the layers of drums and flutes, and soon the lantern sails start swaying in time. The crowd’s moving gains a cadence, and soon the dancing begins. Izuku is dazzled by the swirling colors, but a hand on his elbow draws his focus back to his companion.

“May I?” Shouto murmurs, chin tucked into his chest.

Izuku feels the swaying at his back, and wants nothing more than to join the dance. “Please.”

Shouto takes Izuku’s hand in his, puts the other on his waist, and twirls them into the flow of parade, and Izuku decides to rely on the dragon to guide him and his steps.

Fireworks, small and intimate, launch into the air just overhead of the crowd, and when the cinders float down they don’t burn at all. The contrast of the dark ash and the glowing flickers in Shouto’s hair, with his multitude of colors, only heightens the brightness of his appearance, and the entrancing vision has him stumbling over his feet.

Shouto, thankfully, has quick reflexes, because he pulls the two of them immediately from the crowd and into a side alley, allowing the milling dancers to move past them seamlessly. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, you’re fine. I mean, I’m pretty. Wait, no, you’re pretty fine- Gah!” Izuku’s tongue trips, and he sinks to the ground in mortification.

Thankfully, the dragon doesn’t appear to be offended, because he joins Izuku on the ground, his lips twitching.

“You’re laughing at me.” Izuku moans.

“Perhaps a bit.” The dragon’s eyes crinkle. “You think I’m pretty, huh?”

Izuku groans, and curls into himself further. “You’re a bully.”

“I’m not hearing a no.” He rises to his feet. “Come on, there’s still a bit of time before you have to head back.”

Izuku peeks out of the shelter of his arms, to see a hand stretched out to him; his face lights up even as a grin splits his face. “Ugh, fine.” He remains hidden until he can school the grin off of his face, but the redness won’t go away.

The hand tugs him to his feet when he grasps it, and then the two of them move back into the crowd. The sails have long since moved on, but their light bounces back across every surface, so that the world remains aglow in fire. The dance has shifted, to something light of foot, and now there’s a layer of people dance through the sky above the ground. It makes for quite a sight, and also for a less crowded street.

Shouto must follow his gaze, or at least see the way Izuku can’t look away from the partiers above them, because he asks, “Do you want to go up there?”

Izuku feels his breath catch. “Could we?”

Shouto nods. “Give me a moment.”

Wind tugs at Izuku’s curls, gentle at first, then fiercer and fiercer, until the two of them stand in the midst of a gale. It steals the gravity from them, and weightless Izuku is carried into the sky. Some of the revelers around them shout in outrage, but others seem to enjoy the sudden onslaught of wind. The music swirls in the air around them, just as audible as ever, and Izuku wonders if there’s magic even in the sound here.

“Once more?” Shouto says. Izuku turns back to him, and his silly, hopeful eyes. Like Izuku can answer any other way.

“Of course.”

They dance their way across the night sky, above everyone else, the music and the sparks and the lights chasing their footsteps through the stars. But all too soon, the wind is letting them down towards the earth, and Izuku realizes that they’ve returned to the spot where Izuku first met Shouto.

Looking around, he can see that the eastern sky is indeed gaining some pink light, so distinct from the festive glow of the earth below them.

They delicately alight on the hill, Shouto still supporting him from their dance. They separate, and Shouto slowly, physically turns him, so that Izuku’s back is facing him. “Turn around, face the sun. Put your back to this world.”

Izuku does as he’s bidden, but he can’t just let the night end like this. “Will I ever get to see you again?”

A heavy breath whooshes over his hair, though it’s not enough to hint at a fully sized dragon. Which means that Shouto really is just that close. “I wished that someone would come. That they’d look at this droll, boring world of mine with new eyes and see as something other than my prison. Thank you, Izuku.” Something soft presses into his hair, and Izuku can hardly dare to hope. “Stand on this hill, the night of the full moon, face the west, and we may meet again. Now, close your eyes.”

Izuku does so, thankful that this isn’t a goodbye. That there’s more to come.

The sound of rustling paper returns, and when next Izuku opens his eyes, he’s back in his own world, facing the quiet of sunrise.

The kiss in his head burns and freezes, and Izuku knows it will follow him around until he next sees Shouto.

Alright! Here’s what I’ve made for @altered-karma‘s magnificent fic which I will reblog later :p for the @tododekubigbang 2019!!!

Look out for this talented contributor and many others when the zine is released on October 27th!

Follow them now!

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AO3

Hmmm this feels like a question better suited for @systlin

It looks like it, yeah.

It really freaking sucks. Like, sure, it’s fanfiction. It’s written for fun. Clearly. But authors really do pour their heart and soul into their works. They put in a crap ton of emotional, physical and mental time and effort in their stories, and to have that stolen from them just. Absolutely sucks. It sucks in ways I can’t even fathom.

Writers spend so much time on their stories. So much time plotting and writing and planning and editing. They work for it. They work hard. And the fact that there are so many people out there who think they can just claim a work for themselves, take credit for all the time and effort that went into that piece they’re stealing, is unbelievable. It’s freaking unbelievable. 

And yet here I am. Me and so many other creators who’ve had their works stolen by people who, for some reason, think that it’s an okay thing to do.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

I have two possible endings for YUTS in my mind. I know which one I’m going with, but part of me wishes I could go with the other.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I had at least one person who was NOT happy I brought Tadashi back to life in Magnets for Trouble.