Author's Note: This fic is a One for All October prize for Possiblycringe. It has some Pre-Slash TodoDeku. Thank you for the adorable prompt!
Heavy rain pelted from the sky like bullets. Despite his yellow raincoat and rainboots, Izuku Midoriya was already drenched. He waded through water up to his ankles, stepping around the metal scraps littering the junkyard. Lightning cut a blazing line across the sky. Izuku considered if he should have surrendered to Tenya and Ochaco's advice and taken just one day off. But Izuku always searched the junkyard for survivors on Thursdays, because on Fridays, everything in here would be dragged into one of the blue canisters looming in the distance and crushed.
Another bolt of lightning struck the closest canister, so near it hurt Izuku's eyes. In the light, he saw a humanoid figure illuminated lying against a rusty car.
Izuku scrambled over a pile of trash and slid down the other side, cautiously sloshing through the water. The robot lay with his neck bent at an unnatural angle. He had half-crimson, half-white hair and a horrible scorch mark across the left side of his face. The flames had penetrated so deep that they'd exposed his circuit board. Both of his legs had been ripped out of their sockets to reveal wires underneath. One of his arms was gone. The other arm had partly eroded, the plastic flesh dripping off.
The robot cracked one brilliantly blue eye open and croaked, "Help." Then the light dimmed and his head lolled forward.
Izuku lifted the robot onto his back and began the slow, wet journey home.
Back at his small one-story house, Izuku placed the robot down on a padded doctor's chair. Right away, he hooked up a wire to the robot's ear to check if his pain sensors were active. Fortunately, they were not. The robot slumbered in blissful unawareness. Izuku attached another wire to the other ear and plugged his torso into the charging port. The machines would alert Izuku if the robot's prosthetic brain abruptly deteriorated. That gave Izuku time to change out of his wet clothing and make himself a cup of coffee. Then he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.
In a red studio, two announcers sat in front of the camera. In a perky voice, the female news announcer said, "The rogue robot calling himself Dabi remains at large after killing nearly fifty people. He has been confirmed to have joined the League of Robotic Domination. The entire Todoroki line of robots has been ordered scrapped for fear that they might also go berserk. If you have a Todoroki robot, report to a disposal facility immediately. Failure to comply will result in prosecution."
The male announcer said, "It's a shame, after all the hype about the Shouto Todoroki model. It would have been the first to possess both fire and ice powers. Now it won't ever be used in heroics."
On the screen behind them, an image showed of a handsome young man who appeared to be in his early twenties with half-red, half-white hair. Only the glowing in his eyes betrayed his mechanical nature.
The female announcer sighed. "Such a waste. Endeavor has refused to comment on the loss of his entire line of robots, though this will certainly be a huge setback to his agency—"
Izuku switched off the television. That explained why such an expensive-looking robot had been scrapped. This changed nothing about what he intended to do, except that he would need to be much more careful about it. Only people he absolutely trusted could be allowed to see the robot in his back room.
No one had spotted him leaving the junkyard. He'd covered the robot with a tarp while carrying him down the street. From past experience, Izuku knew that this particular junkyard did not bother with cameras and did not care who crept away with a few scraps. But this time, the police would care.
His phone buzzed. Glancing down, Izuku saw that his mother had texted twice asking if he'd made it home safely. Izuku texted back to reassure her, briefly mentioning that he'd found one robot still repairable. Of course he trusted his own mother, but there was no need to worry her with the details.
Izuku had moved out as soon as he'd turned eighteen, nearly seven years ago. He'd told his mother that he wanted to leave home to be more independent, but in reality, he wanted to make certain she couldn't be held responsible if he ever got caught by the police. He was as prepared as he could be for that likely inevitable day. His best friend Ochaco Uraraka was a lawyer, and he had her number on speed dial. The Iida line of robots were some of the most wealthy and successful robotic heroes in Japan, and they'd promised to pay for his bail and defense. Izuku was not afraid for himself. Legally, at worst he could get a ruinous fine and a few years of community service. Stealing trash and failing to turn over recalled property were not heavy crimes. But if the police found the robot currently in his workroom, then next time they would melt Shouto Todoroki down into slag.
After sipping the last of his coffee, Izuku headed to his workroom to see how bad the damage was. The torso of the robot was mostly intact. The legs could definitely be repaired. Izuku measured Shouto's left arm in order to see what dimensions he'd need to build a new right one. It was very odd that Shouto Todoroki had been tossed into the junkyard with so many valuable components. A good sort of odd, of course, but normally such a pricey android would have been completely dissembled for every last useful bit. The scar on Shouto's face spoke of violence and anger. Izuku wondered what had happened. Hopefully, Shouto would wake up soon to tell him.
With a practiced hand, Izuku found the switch on Shouto's spine to open up his chest. Laid bare, the damaged android looked even more frail and vulnerable. He was well-made—there was no sign of interior water damage. The canisters to produce fire and ice had been removed. Those would have been the most expensive bits. Why not the rest, Izuku wondered?
Izuku hooked up the circuit board to his computer and ran a diagnostics check. There was no signal between the body and the brain. That probably meant damage to the spine. Across the throbbing plasteel heart were the initials "K.B."
So this robot came from Katsuki Bakugo's laboratory. Izuku vaguely remembered hearing that his childhood friend had a contract with Endeavor. His eye twitched with anger. Of all the many things that Izuku disagreed with Katsuki about, he was especially angered by how Katsuki signed every robot that he worked on. Katsuki insisted that he had pride in his work. Izuku thought that it was like branding a slave. Carefully, Izuku scrapped off the initials until there was no trace left. Then he closed the robot's chest.
Shouto wore a tattered blue jumpsuit, burned in places and stained with mud. Izuku brought in washcloth and cleaned every last part, finishing by washing the mud out of the soft hair. Then he changed the robot into a clean pair of pajamas. Izuku kept dozens of pajamas in different sizes for his patients. The first few times he'd found it embarrassing to clean off androids, with their naked appearances so very similar to humans and anatomically correct. At this point, he'd done it hundreds of times. He went through the procedure as mechanically and professionally as a nurse tending to a comatose patient. If he left the robot dirty and wet, then rust might spread.
After a through drying, Izuku checked that his alarm system was hooked up in case Shouto woke up during the night. It didn't seem likely with spine damage, but just in case. He reattached the cable to the robot's chest to recharge him. In his bedroom, Izuku ordered the spine part on overnight shipping. He also ordered replacement canisters, but those rarer parts would take longer to arrive. Then he went to bed.
While waiting for the necessary part to arrive, Izuku reattached Shouto's legs. Next, he worked on assembling Shouto's new arm. The doorbell rang around noon. Izuku signed for the package and headed straight to his workroom, eager to wake Shouto up.
There was no easy way to expose the spine. Izuku had to use a scalpel to peel back the soft, plastic flesh. All but one of the spine bones glowed, making it easy to recognize which one needed to be replaced.
As soon as Izuku had the new spine in, Shouto jolted. Izuku quickly checked the monitor overhead to make certain the pain function was still disabled.
"Wha?" Shouto slurred, his arm partly rising and then falling again.
Izuku said, "You're being repaired at Midoriya Lab. I—"
Frenzy-eyed, Shouto grabbed the front of Izuku's lab coat. Air fired from the canisters in his chest, the fire and ice failing to activate. In a panicked slur, the robot cried, "I can still be useful, please don't scrap me—"
"It's okay. You're safe." Izuku gently placed his hands on top of Shouto's. "I found you in the junkyard. I'm repairing you."
Shouto's chest heaved. Androids did not breathe, but they'd been designed to imitate human emotional responses in order to make them less uncanny valley. He said, "I'll repay you once I'm better. I promise. I'm a very rare model…" His voice cut off mid-syllable, more perfectly than any human could stop speaking, as he remembered why it would not be a good idea to tell anyone his true identity.
Izuku said, "I already know who you are. I saw on the news. The Midoriya Lab repairs all robots for free, regardless of their legal status. I consider myself a conscientious objector to the very concept of scrapping robots. You don't need to worry about paying me. I'm well-funding by donations." Izuku knew all about the common practice among mechanics of indebting robots so heavily they'd never be free. He'd written an entire angry book on the topic (still working on getting that published.) "The police have no idea of your existence. You're safe here."
Shouto released his grip and sat back down. "Thank you," he said. The words were emotionless, but something in his posture made Izuku suspect the robot did not entirely believe him. That was understandable.
To be sure, Izuku asked, "Are you in any pain?"
"No, that's switched off," Shouto said. "I can't feel my right arm." He looked down at the missing limb, and his eyes widened with horror.
Izuku said, "I'm working on a new arm for you. How about your legs?"
"I think they can move?" Shouto flexed his legs. Though the wires still extended from his head, he tried to stand. But his legs collapsed under him.
"Whoa there!" Izuku grabbed Shouto before he could fall to the floor. "I'll have to check your joints again." He lifted the robot back onto the chair.
Shouto laughed breathlessly. "You're strong! I'm solid metal."
With a smile, Izuku said, "I lift robots all day." He flexed a bicep.
Shouto's face became serious. "Why do you do this?"
Izuku said, "Because someone has to. Because throwing people away is wrong."
Shouto looked at the ground and did not speak.
Izuku asked, "Is there anything you need?"
"I'm fine," Shouto said.
Izuku waited a moment longer.
Shouto lowered his head, his bangs covering his eyes and part of the gaping burn scar. "Can I have some music?"
"Of course." Izuku ducked out of the room and returned with his phone. "What kind do you like?"
Shouto shrugged.
Izuku set his songs on shuffle as he worked on repairing Shouto's legs.
Izuku knew full well that Shouto didn't trust him, and he didn't blame the android. The best person to talk to a robot would be another robot. So Izuku called Toshinori Yagi and asked him to come over.
Toshinori showed up wearing a yellow-and-black stripped suit. As always, his frame was gaunt and skinny compared to the other All Might models. Izuku felt a pang of guilt. Toshinori had been the very first robot Izuku had ever repaired, and looking at him with an adult eye, he knew he hadn't done a very good job.
Immediately, Toshinori swept Izuku up in a hug. "How are you doing, my boy?"
"Fine," Izuku said, muffled by the embrace. "I saw you on television a couple nights ago. It was a good interview."
Toshinori beamed. "We're making real progress on the battle over robot debt. Now, where's the newest member of our little family?"
Izuku led Toshinori to the workroom, then left him alone with Shouto. He went to his bedroom and closed the door to give them some privacy.
As a child, Izuku had admired All Might more than anything. Robots had been created during the dawn of the age of quirks to fight villains, so that humans didn't need to use their quirks. There had been a very strong mindset back then that people using quirks would be somehow corrupted or driven mad by them, one that lingered even today. Izuku was quirkless, so he'd never fully understand. But Ochaco had spoken to him long and bitterly about how painful it felt to never be allowed to float so much as a pencil in public. Scientific research had shown that preventing people from using their quirks caused psychological damage, but Japan's laws were only just starting to relax.
Both Izuku and his childhood friend Katsuki had wanted to create robots for heroics when they grew up. They'd both been big All Might fans. After a battle with a deadly villain, the current All Might had been mostly destroyed, but that had barely even made the news before a new All Might was rolled out to take his place.
Izuku had found the old All Might lying broken in the junkyard where he used to play. He'd only been in middle school, but he'd dragged the robot home and done the best he could on the repairs. Unfortunately, Izuku had wired Toshinori so strangely that it would never be possible to return him to his old powerful state without risking destroying his consciousness. If only he'd been as skilled then as he was now. Even so, Toshinori had never once blamed him. Toshinori said that Izuku had pulled off a miracle.
After waking up, the old All Might had renamed himself Toshinori Yagi and dedicated himself to fighting for robot rights. The movement had already existed, but Toshinori Yagi had been the first robot to be successfully classified as a legal person. All Might's popularity had been a huge boost. Seeing images of the hero who had saved Japan lying on a scrap heap had pricked the conscience of the nation.
These days, any robot who could pass a Turing Test in one of the testing centers could be legally declared a free person with all the rights of a citizen of Japan. A lot of unpleasantness went on behind the scenes with the hero industry trying to stop their robots from getting tested or saddling them with such heavy debt in their creation that they could never quit the industry. That was another legal battle people like Toshinori and Ochaco were fighting. Right now, Izuku's main concern was getting Shouto Todoroki to a testing center. With his level of intelligence and emotion, there was no doubt he would pass. Then he would be safe from being scrapped. But in order to pass a Turning Test, Shouto would have to make a panel of judges believe that he was human. That would only be possible if he'd been repaired—at least enough so all his metal bits were covered up.
As Toshinori left the workroom, Izuku met him in the hallway. Toshinori's eyes were sad. "That boy should have been Turing Tested a long time ago."
"I know," Izuku said. The heroics industry preferred smarter robots, better at taking down villains, but did not like them free. They tried to prevent robots from learning about their rights.
Toshinori ran a hand down his face. "I wonder how many others in the Todoroki line had achieved consciousness before they were destroyed."
Too many, Izuku thought grimly. He wished he could save them all. Thanks to Toshinori, Izuku's lab would always be well-funded. Toshinori had pried compensation money and merchandising rights from his former agency during his legal battle. But staffing had always been an issue. The mechanics who built robots didn't tend to be the same people who supported the right of their property to leave. Izuku's organization had workrooms in cities around Japan, but none ever had more than one employee.
Toshinori's eyes went down to meet Izuku's. "I'm sorry, I'm bringing down the mood. You're doing everything you can."
"So are you," Izuku said, holding out his arms. "Hug?"
"Hug." Toshinori smiled and wrapped his arms around him.
"Mmm, the one thing I did right was making your body temperature nice and warm," Izuku said.
Toshinori bopped him on the nose. "You did many things right. I keep telling you, I was so destroyed after that battle that no mechanic in Japan could have completely repaired me. Most of my torso was gone! No matter what, I'd have never worked as a hero again."
"You're still a hero to other robots," Izuku said. In his eyes, there would only ever be one All Might, no matter how many fakes the agency kept producing. Each new All Might had been carefully left at the intelligence level of an ant in order to prevent their best product from declaring independence again. Izuku carefully tracked All Might's falling statistics for his rants on the internet.
Toshinori's visit had a sharp effect on Shouto. No longer did Shouto scope out exits and try to make certain Izuku's body was never between him and the door.
Izuku had given Shouto jeans and a T-shirt to wear. Fortunately, they were similar sizes. Robots did not need to sleep, so Izuku had given Shouto a spare laptop for entertainment.
While Shouto sat in the doctor's chair, Izuku carefully applied hot plastic to his left arm. Gradually, it sealed over the burns. The flesh looked completely human after it hardened.
"Can you move the arm?" Izuku asked.
Shouto flexed. "It seems to be working." He spun his arm all around.
Izuku reached for the applicator. "I'll do the burn on your face next."
"Wait." Shouto's tongue flicked over his lips. "I want to keep that scar. It has something I need to remember."
Izuku wondered, but he did not ask. Nervousness radiated off Shouto. This was a moment to be careful. Gently, Izuku said, "Whatever you'd like. Can I cover up the metal bits? You need to look human for the Turning Test. Sorry, I know it's a stupid and unfair rule."
Shouto nodded. "That's fine. I want to have a face again—I just want to leave the burn mark."
Izuku carefully applied a layer of skin, then used a second plastic to create the appearance of a burn. He'd done this before. Shouto was not the first robot to request a scar. Some robots wanted them because it was easier to pass as a human if they had imperfections.
Afterward, Izuku held up the mirror. "How do you like it? Too big?"
Shouto looked at his own reflection. "Just big enough," he said grimly.
Next, Izuku attached Shouto's new right arm. With a whir, the joint glowed. Izuku held his breath. This was the moment of truth.
Slowly, Shouto raised his arm over his head. "I have an arm!" A small smile showed on his lips.
"Try clenching your hand. Then wiggle your fingers." Izuku demonstrated the movements with his own hand.
Shouto mimicked him. "It's working."
"Do you feel any discomfort?"
"Not at all."
"Any problems since you started walking?"
Shouto stood up, then jumped all the way up the ceiling. "Good as new."
"I've got a treadmill and an exercise bike in the guest bedroom. If you're feeling up for it, then you should test your limbs." Izuku hesitated. "You're in good enough shape now that we could turn back on the pain receptors, but that's up to you." Pain could be useful, especially for a robot in a fight who needed to know if he'd been stabbed in the back. However, most robots left their pain partly dulled.
Shouto clenched his jaw. "Can you set it at five percent?"
"Of course." Izuku's fingers flew over the keyboard. "I can install a part that will let you control your pain. I give that to all my patients." And it ought to be a crime that all robots didn't have one, but that was another rant for the internet. When done, Izuku unhooked the wire from Shouto's ear. "The parts will arrive for your fire and ice canisters tomorrow. In the meantime, what movie do you want to watch tonight?"
Movie night had become a tradition over the last week. Shouto had never watched a movie before, except tiny clips he'd seen once when toted out for a mall exhibition.
Eyes glowing (literally), Shouto said, "I want to see Robot Zombies."
"For the third time?" Izuku lightly teased. "Don't you have a perfect memory? Do I need to replace your memory chip?"
"You scream in a slightly different way every time we watch it," Shouto said. "It's very entertaining."
Izuku flushed, the tables turned on him. "Next time I will unleash the full force of Midoriya tears on your vulnerable metal chest, then you'll be sorry."
Shouto grinned. "I'm rustproof."
Then Izuku went to make hot chocolate and popcorn for himself and mix up a cup of motor oil for Shouto. They settled next to each other on the couch as the intro credits played.
Late that evening, Izuku fought with his curiosity and lost. He dialed Mina Ashido.
Mina answered on the last ring, after he'd nearly given up. "What's new, Dad?"
That was Mina's idea of a joke. She was another robot who Izuku had saved from the junkyard. She'd been an AI living inside a sound system, so he'd built her body nearly from scratch. Mina was friends with Kirishima, a mechanic who worked for Bakugo's lab. She utilized her inside connection to give Izuku tips on where to find scrapped robots.
Izuku asked, "Do you know anything about what happened to the Shouto Todoroki model?"
Mina sighed. "A bad business, that. The poor guy was close to getting scrapped even before Dabi went haywire. See, Bakugo could never quite get the ice and fire right. His designs could use one at a time, but never both together without the robot exploding."
"Really?" Izuku asked. "I thought it would be easier to balance them." He had his designs carefully planned for when the parts arrived.
Mina said, "Endeavor Agency was nearly ready to pull their funding even before the Dabi incident. Bakugo was upset about all his work being wasted, but he didn't want to have his name associated with, and I quote, 'a line of goddamn deranged murder robots.' So he let Endeavor take away his prototype Shouto. The lab didn't find out until days later that Shouto fought back when they tried to scrap him. See, the Shouto model was supposed to be well below the threshold for sapience, but it turns out he was a lot smarter than he pretended."
Izuku nodded. Some robots played dumb around humans because they were scared or because they wanted to escape. Remembering that Mina couldn't see him nod over the phone, Izuku said, "That's why everyone should be legally required to run a Turning Test before scrapping anyone. I mean, I don't think robots should be scrapped at all and there are better tests—but I know I'm preaching to the choir."
Grimly, Mina said, "Endeavor didn't care. He destroyed Shouto personally. Kirishima was very broken up about it. You know Kirishima doesn't support robot abuse, and he blamed himself. Said he'll never work with Endeavor Agency again."
Izuku muttered, "If it wasn't the lab who scrapped him, then that's why he's mostly intact." He wondered what Shouto wanted to remember by leaving his scar. A desire for vengeance? That moment when he'd decided to fight for his life?
"Oh-ho! My keen mechanical ears heard that!" Mina's voice rose with triumph. "You found him! That's why you're the best, Midoriya! Heh, I'm going to get to call the famous Shouto model as my little brother. Now that's some real street cred!"
Izuku chuckled. "Not a word until he passes the test."
"Torture couldn't drag it out of me, because I'd just turn off my pain receptors," Mina said cheerfully. "Hey, I don't know if the new kid is going to want to go into heroics, but if he does, please give me an advance warning about his debut. If you tell me far enough in advance, then I might be able to get you a video of the look on Bakugo's face when he realizes you figured out the ice and fire first."
Izuku sighed. "I'd rather get the look on Endeavor's face."
"I don't know Endeavor, sorry."
"I haven't even gotten the ice and fire to work yet."
"But I know you will," Mina said confidently. "Good night! Get your frail human body off to bed, old man!"
As always, Izuku explained each procedure before doing it. "These cannisters produce ice and fire. I'm going to open up your chest and put them into the empty spaces, if you want. This isn't a necessary procedure, it's elective."
Shouto twiddled with his thumbs. "But if I want to work in heroics, then I'll need power."
"Do you want to work in heroics?" Izuku asked. "You don't have to. I'll employ you at the lab." He knew a lot of robots stayed in heroics because it was hard for them to find other jobs.
Shouto's shoulders went up around his ears. "I don't know. A part of me wants to become a hero just long enough for them to see. I want them to know that I'm even better than they thought, but they won't get any benefit from it. After that? I don't know what I want to do with my life. My existence, I mean."
Izuku took Shouto's hands. "If I install these cannisters, you can do whatever you want with them. You could open a soba shop and use them to cook noodles. No one can give you orders any longer. Your power is your own."
Slowly, Shouto smiled. He squeezed Izuku's hands. "Will you talk me through it?"
"I'll tell you what I'm doing every step of the way."
"Good. I like listening to you talk." Shouto leaned back and let Izuku open his chest.
Afterward, Izuku took Shouto to a metal room in the basement. It might have been safest to test this outside, but he didn't dare risk anyone seeing Shouto. In his nervousness, Izuku mumbled, "Did I check the capacitors? Yes, I did. Wait, is your battery fully charged?" He whirled on Shouto. "Your battery needs to be at least above ten precent."
"I've been charging my battery every night," Shouto said. "Relax. I've been through plenty of failed tests. If my skin melts, you'll repair me."
Izuku paled at the image of Shouto's skin melting off. "Maybe you should go back to my workroom and let me run a few dozen more tests."
Instead, Shouto stepped backward and ignited his left side. The flames rose up easily. Cold air and snowflakes came off his right side.
Izuku gasped. "It worked!"
"You did it! You're a genius." Letting the elements die away, Shouto grabbed both of Izuku's hands and spun him around in a circle. "You're brilliant! You're wonderful!" His eyes glowed as they always did when he could not restrain his overflowing feelings.
Izuku swallowed, taken aback by the depth of the emotion in those heterochromatic eyes. He tried to keep it from showing on his face, but failed to entirely conceal his blush. There was something in Shouto's eyes that Izuku did not dare acknowledge. It was common for patients to develop crushes on doctors or nurses. There was even a term for it: erotic transference. But Izuku could not possibly respond to those feelings while Shouto was dependent on him. It would be taking advantage. Although that would no longer be a concern after Shouto was back on his feet and independent, a treacherous part of Izuku's brain added.
For now, Izuku could only play awkward and oblivious, which fortunately came naturally to him. He stuttered, "Oh, it wasn't very hard."
"Only geniuses can say it wasn't hard," Shouto said. "I'm going to give you all the credit when I become famous. I'm going to earn enough money to pay you back for all the repairs."
Izuku opened his mouth to say that Shouto didn't need to do that. Shouto spoke over him, "I want to help you help other robots. And I want us to be equals."
Izuku's mouth felt impossibly dry. He did not know how to respond to the implicit promise.
Shouto took a cap off the wall and stuck it over his identifying hair. "I'm ready to go outside. Now I can fight if anyone tries to scrap me."
Izuku paced the front of the testing center in a fit of mad nerves. It was obvious that Shouto would pass. He had human mannerisms down perfectly. He would blow past the intelligence test. But if there was a chance, even a one percent chance, then Izuku couldn't calm down. He kept checking his phone every couple seconds. If anything went wrong, then Izuku would spirit Shouto back home and then they would try again later. But what if someone recognized Shouto? Izuku immediately went to an airline website and started looking up international plane tickets.
Shouto left the test center with his hat off and his hair exposed. Grinning, he held up a paper. "Certificate of personhood!" He opened a small slit in his arm and stuck the paper safely inside. "I gave them my name for the paperwork, and they let the police know that I'm no longer an acceptable target. Two employees gave me business cards of hero agencies who would be interested in hiring me, both willing to offer generous advances and temporary housing. I have options, now."
"I'm so proud of you," Izuku whispered, a tear slipping down his face. Everything would be different for Shouto from now on. Such a powerful robot would be head-hunted by agencies across Japan. Finally, Izuku could convince himself that Shouto would be safe.
Shouto stepped forward and brushed off the tear. "But I stay with you. Take me home."
Izuku flung his arms around Shouto and let the happy tears fall.
OMAKE TIME!
Katsuki: Racoon eyes, why are you following me around everywhere with a camera?
Mina: No reason! Hey, also for no reason, let me turn on the television and show you something.
Katsuki: IS THAT SHITTY HALF AND HALF ON THE SCREEN? WHY IS SHITTY DEKU WINNING AN AWARD FOR MOST CREATIVE DEBUT HERO ROBOT? THAT'S MY ROBOT!
Author's Note: On a completely unrelated note, Atrium drew absolutely beautiful fanart for my fic "Birdcage." Delete the spaces to get the link:
atriumdraws.
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post/701323852328943616/its-doneee-here-we-have-some-bird-cage-fanart