Quirk Sorcery

"----" Speech

'----' Thought

(----) Thought in the middle of a sentence.

*----* Sound noises

»»—-[☆]—-««

In May's household, there could be seen a tall man preparing a baby bottle as if he was a cool-ass youtube bartender, mixing the milk in a metal cup by shaking, flipping the cup mid-air, all the while with a stupid grin on his face.

The house was made of a shiny light wood, looking more like a cabin than a house itself. With a big living room right at the entrance with an American banner stuck in the middle of the stone fireplace and the kitchen right next to it. To the side, there were wooden stairs going to the second floor, with a lot of doors right next to each other.

After this figure looked to the cup, with a nod he put the contents in the baby bottle and headed to a room right beside his own.

Entering the room, there was a baby in a crib, visibly struggling to stand up as he used the crib's bars to support himself.

"At ease, soldier! You are barely 3 months old. Your duty is to rest and grow. Now come here little punk." The man said as he picked the baby put the bottle in its mouth.

The baby's face became visibly annoyed, making the man laugh at the scene.

The baby seeing him laugh started to pout, his eyes becoming red and watery. Oh crap.

"Little buddy, don't cry! Here, Peak-a-BO!" He tried the pick-a-boo, but the baby clearly wasn't having his shit, since he started crying for real.

The man struggled to stop his spawn from crying, and oh boy does he cry. It was way louder than a normal baby should be capable of, but their family was anything but normal. This required a new approach.

"If you stop crying, I'm going to show you something awesome. How about it?" He might look crazy trying to make a newborn understand the complexity of dialogues. But the man knew better, his son was special.

The baby stopped crying and looked right at him, eyes still red and watery as if threatening him of crying again if it was not good enough.

The man left the small room and went down the stairs with the baby in his arms. He went through the kitchen, past a backdoor, and arrived at the backyard.

It was a beautiful green garden, with a pine tree on the side of the fence surrounding the yard and with lots of plants and flowers here and there.

"Now, watch your old man show you what the May's are all about." The guy carried the toddler with one arm, and with his other one appeared a giant piece of metal, also known as a rocket launcher.

He aimed to the sky and with a loud rumbling WHOOOSH the missile left and exploded in the air with a BAM, spewing white, red, and blue colors as a firework.

The baby all the while looked stunned, looking back and forth to him, his R-Launcher, and the sky.

"So, what do you think huh?"

»»—-[☆]—-««

It's been 3 months since I been reborn in this world. And the first I can tell you voices in my head, that it sucks.

Do you known the feeling of pooping yourself, making a crap sandwich with your ass cheeks, and be helpless to stop it!?

No, you don't, nobody does. And I'm cursed with this knowledge.

At least I'm not an orphan in this life, and I can safely say I got an awesome dad! He is just like those cool dads on TV, with American and military sauce on top! Ah, and his name is Jane Doe May (saw in his dog tag), and I would be a fool if I did not recognize this name. It's the TF2 soldier's true name! Even mine is related to it. Rick May was the voice actor of the soldier!

His personality, America, military, his name, my name, hell, even his voice! Everything one way or another relates to the soldier. It's almost as someone took my desire into consideration… Nah. If the multiverse is true then it's all a matter of luck, and I must be super lucky! Hell Yeah. The only God I believe is Cristian, and no multiverse wannabe god can change that.

And as for my mother… After the hospital, I never saw her again. But it doesn't matter. She gave me a stinky eye right after I was born and I got a cool-ass father. As if I would complain after being an orphan last life.

Another thing to note. This guy must be rich. His house is big as hell. It probably could fit two families with 3 kids each. He even got a pool in the backyard, with a small waterfall on top!

I never saw other houses though; we must be pretty far from the city. The only thing that passes here are cars, and even those are rare.

However, being a baby still sucks. I almost died choking on my own spit. And all I eat or worse, drink, is milk. Every single day, the same, nauseating, sweet, milk. At the beginning it was cool. After the first month, not so much.

And now this guy is giving me this cursed milk yet again! Screw you! Stop laughing at my disgrace!

And as I struggle in his arms, he only laughs harder. If that's how you want to play, then let me give you a gift. My only weapon as a baby: Crying. A lot.

As I prepare to release my fury, he sees it and tries to pick-a-boo me. Pick-a-boo is my shit sandwiched ass.

Releasing the loudest cry I could muster, I could see him panic a little. Bringing me the sweet joy of revenge.

"If you stop crying, I'm going to show you something awesome. How about it?" Hoh, it better be awesome. I can do this all day.

He took me to the backyard, and there he hugged me with one arm, freeing his other one for god's know what. Until it appeared.

Out of thin air, a rocket launcher appeared which I knew it was a standard American bazooka.

WHAT SORCERY IS THIS!? Witch! Someone call the inquisition!

As I fret in his arm he just aimed it to the sky, and with the loudest sound in my life, it flew out of the launcher to the sky, exploding in a show of colors, American colors. That was awesome. But how.

I looked at the weapon, but there was no sci-fi tech on it, nor any magical rune or whatever. I looked at him, nothing. How?

"So, what do you think huh?"

I stared at him and pointed at the bazooka. I couldn't speak to ask him how he summoned it or how his ass could fit an entire rocket launcher, so body language it is.

"This? This is my best friend, Zuzuka. Zuzuka, meet Rick. Rick, meet Zuzuka."

Dammit, he didn't understand. I'm going to need to try harder.

I closed my fists, brought them together, and opened both my palms while making a popping sound with my mouth.

"Are you asking about the explosion?" I shook my head.

He stared intently at me, trying to figure it out. I repeat it again. C'mon, you can do it!

"Hmm… Is it about how Zuzuka appeared in my hand?" YES! I furiously nod.

"You know, you are waaayyy smarter than you should."

Oh shit, he noticed. I was too careless! Retreat! "bABa gUgU DAdA!"

"PPPFFTTT… HAHAHAAHA!! God, that was gold! I don't know how with 3 months you can understand me, but I saw a bunch of Korean kids with world records in less than 3 years old. And since your mother is eastern, it must be it!"

My God, that was a close one. Thanks mother and stereotypes for helping me here!

"Now, going back on how she appeared in my hand. This is a part of my quirk. Quirks are superpowers that pass from father to son. And as a May, you are destined to have it too. In a few years, you might have your own Zuzuka! Cool right?"

Cool? That was AWESOME!!! The things I could do with a personal rocket launcher. I dare anyone to go against me in paintball. Oh, this is gonna be gre- mmfffshsh!

NOO! Not the milk! Stop this! I require assistance!

And there he is, back to laughing at me. Wait until I get my own 'Zuzuka'…

»»—-[☆]—-««

Three years after discovering about quirks, a lot of things happened.

First, I was brought to a kindergarten. And oh boy.

Why my father did not mention that other people also had quirks!?

As I run from a superpowered mayhem also known as 'Super Tag', I recall everything that happened in these years.

First of all, my quirk manifested!

A couple of months ago as I was running laps in the backyard (singing the American anthem all the while) which my father ordered, not asked. By him, this was so I would be as big as him, and that the army did not accept pussies, and in a way a family tradition. Or it's just an excuse for me to waste all my energy and leave him alone. Whatever, not like I had anything better to do being a kid and all, and if I want to be close to the soldier, I gotta be buff.

Then the world became messed as if I ate a mushroom while drinking. Then everything felt… different. I never felt so light. The colors never felt so colorful. And the world, never so bright.

I didn't understand what was happening until my father asked me to start running again, which I did. But I was fast, way faster, too fast. My feet slipped and I almost swallowed a kilo of dirt. And my father stood there, smiling.

Before I could tell the maggot a piece of my mind, he hugged me, spinning me around and-

"YES! I knew you would have it! I'm going to teach you all about it and- blablabla."

What the hell? Is he high?

"Uh, yeah. Huh. Cool. What are you talking about?"

And from there I was introduced to my family legacy, and our quirk, which manifested in me (so that's what happened). And it was way longer than a 3 years old should, or could hear.

Basically, this world is exactly like my past world. One day quirks appeared. Shit gets real and society goes through the window.

My family had an amazing, downright frightening, history in the military. Every single generation went to the army, with records even before the united states was formed.

The president declared martial law because of the quirks and deployed the army to take care of the super maggots. And our family happen to be the first one to also get quirks, and because of that, they were always put in battalions against the most dangerous maggots with other quirk-soldiers.

From there on, my family married people in this quirk battalion (with incentive from the government) making even stronger soldiers. Each generation our quirk got stronger, and with the short lifespan of this job, that were way more generations than it should have.

Everyone from before the age of heroes had a maximum lifespan of 22 years, and the government raised many of my ancestors since their parents were dead (no wonder we are so patriotic).

This made our quirk stronger and more complex and weird than it should be possible.

First, there is the quirk factor and the quirk genes. The quirk factor is the quirk itself, the main superpower. The quirk genes are byproducts not entirely connected to the quirk factor but still derived from it.

Quirks can be Emitter (basically quirks unrelated to the body that can be turned on and off).

Transformation (body transforms temporarily and it's a conscious effort)

Mutant (Permanent body transformation)

That's why one of the kids here in the kindergarten has a bull head and a quirk that makes his spit poisonous. Someone in his family had a bull quirk, and it passed the genes but not the factor in itself, making him looking like he has 2 quirks, a mutant, and an emitter, when what he has is an emitter quirk factor with a bunch of quirk genes related to his mutant ancestor, but not his quirk in itself making this bull head weaker or rather incomplete than if he had the quirk factor of it. Got it? Me neither. Brain stuff never was my forte.

At first, my ancestors' quirks involved permanent body enhancements of various kinds, the mutant type. As each generation passed it, this mutant quirk factor got many perks of all these mutant quirks.

But then it was introduced in our family an Emitter type of quirk, a gun summoning quirk.

By logic, we should have enhanced bodies from the quirk genes, but weaker than if we had the full quirk factor to it, plus the quirk factor of the gun summoning quirk factor.

This is where our quirk gets complicated. The previous mutant quirk factor became quirk genes to open room for the new factor, becoming weaker. Wrong. We did not lose anything whatsoever. These quirk genes managed to somehow fixate themselves in different parts of our DNA with surgical accuracy, fully maintaining their structure and effect.

Not only that but even in the next generations. Every time a quirk, especially mutant, was introduced in our family, it somehow did the same, maintaining most if not all of its effects as quirk genes while the quirk factor was preserved.

And both the quirk factor and genes became stronger over time, by both the synergy of quirks and a theory called quirk singularity, where the quirks get stronger each generation.

This made our body enhanced in a way that no quirk gene could ever do, while we have a quirk factor that summons military weapons being a rocket launcher the more common. My father said the weapons were not always passed on, and new ones always emerged, but it always was for the best and stronger.

Basically, I have in practice two super quirks that make me the perfect super soldier. And the government knows that, and it gives us a lot of benefits under one condition. Each generation has to be born and raised in America, as an American and as a soldier. Which our family was happy to oblige, they would do it anyway. [1]

He also got in each individual quirk in our family, but I was already dead by that point.

And so were all of you, voices in my head.

The Super Tag? I won of course.

»»—-[☆]—-««

Writing notes:

[1] Remember that the MC was already patriotic before being reborn. The orphan members of his family were raised by the government, they were brainwashed but without all the super crap. And I'm basing the protagonist on the TF2 Soldier which is a fanatic patriot with severe dumbness.

Author Notes:

Dude, my gosh. Trying to make logic of the bullshit which quirks are was agonizing, but the end result was satisfactory. If Deku is quirkless, why the hell is his hair green? I hope my explanation answered stuff like that.

(minor spoiler skip if you want)

It was also a good way to give the MC a body that supports the powers/weapons of the soldier. In reality, rocket jumping would not make you fly, at least not with your legs still in you. TF2 is a game, and not realistic at all, so I had to compensate for things somehow, and this was my answer.