#i want to know what the high five heroes did before they were angry

[psychopomping]

the tragedy of the rat grinders wanting to be heroes before this all started and the bad kids being forced yet again to save the world because no one else can or will. the tragedy of lack of choice.

[short-black-diamond]

Could you maybe do one where Izuku x reader where he forgets his kids birthday and then give maybe a happy or sad ending. Like if sad then maybe like reader and his kid go to his office and see him drinking and talking with his friends and then the kid, 5 years old or smth, runs out and the reader is like so dissapointed in him and then Izuku realises what he's done.

i really like your writing style so i would like to see how you play out this scenario.

Thanks <3

AWW, no the poor kid...

Also thanks for complimenting my writng style! I didn't know I had one but good to know! And you guys have a daughter cuz you didn't tell me the gender and bla bla bla. Also I changed it a little with the office part and it gets suggestive in the end but not too much, I hope that's okay with you...

Happy reading!

I forgot, I'm sorry!

---

Summary: In which your daughter gets sad by her father's absence on her birthday.

You were happy in your relationship with Izuku. Everything was not alright, considering your husband's constant absence, but you guys managed. What you didn't like however, is how he always used the excuse of having to fight a villain or something which would ruin important dates the two of you had. the first date you two had when meeting up for a blind date, five minutes late. First anniversary, ten minutes late, okay. First meeting with the doctor for possible pregnancy, fifteen minutes. Birthing the child? Had to fight a villain, sorry! You kind of hoped that Izuku would at least try to not be late for your daughter's birthday, as it arrived in a month, and you even told him multiple times so that he wouldn't forget. But, it seemed like all your efforts of warning him and discussing things with him went out the roof when he didn't pick up the phone to play hero with your daughter and her friends on her special day. your offspring was looking at you with a sad frown and you swore you'd kill Izuku for not being there for your daughter. After the party was over; speak, her falling asleep in her little room and you waiting for Izuku to arrive, you cleaned everything up. And then, only then when you put away the last piece of popped balloon did the front door open. A drunken Izuku stumbled into the corridor, laughing giddily and you'd have beaten the living shit out of him if he only were sober. When he caught sight of your pretty face, he cooed at you. "Awwww, my sweet wife is thereeee! How are youuuuuuuu?", he sang, trying to get out of his shoes. Meanwhile, you were only frowning at him. When he didn't get an answer form you, he lifted his head from his shoelaces and saw your angry face. "Wha's wron'?", he slurred and you felt your face growing hotter by the minute. "What's wrong? You went out to fucking drink on your daughter's birthday, Izuku!", you whisper-yelled, not wanting her to find out about the argument you two would have. You stopped drinking the moment you received the news of your daughter in your belly and didn't consume a droplet ever since. You hoped Izuku would stop too. Right now, Izuku was frowning at you. "Her...her birthday...was...t-today?", and he seemed to wake up from the drowsiness, suddenly completely sober -if that's even possible- and wanted to go to her room but stopped when he saw her tiny figure by the doorframe.

"...you forgot about my birthday?", she asked, her eyes filling with big tears and she frowned angryly. "I-I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to!"

She just cried and you took her in your arms before frowning at your husband. "Go take a shower and then we'll talk-" "I don' wanna talk do daddy! Daddy's stupid! He forgot mah birthday!", your child yelled at him and buried her head in the crook of your neck and nearly suffocating you with her arms around your neck. You understood your daughter's pain, having lived through that as well with your own father who always mixed up your age and your birthday, heck, he even thought you were still in middle school when you were in high-school. You couldn't believe that Izuku would have actually forgotten about it though, I mean, she's his daughter, no?

Izuku felt like crying too and went into the bathroom. After a few minutes, Izuku stepped out and held something behind him, calling your daughter's name to grab her attention. She reluctangly pouted at him, still holding onto you who was stroking her back while she sniffed. He showed her a dynamite action plushie and she sqealed in delight upon getting such a gift, it was limited edition after all. She hopped off your lap and you chuckled, your own anger melting away by the lovely father-daughter interaction and recording Izuku's cries for pleading for feorgiveness from your child who was giggling in delight. You wished there were more moments like these.

While your child was playing with the toy which resembled one of your close friends and Izuku's childhood rival, Izuku himself felt like his soul was flying out of his mouth. "I'm glad she's not mad...but why Kacchan?" You huffed in amusement before nudging him. "At least you didn't forget about buying her a gift beforehand. Also...why don't you take some time off? You're barely spending time with us these past days."

What you said was true, and even though you were still mad at him for not being there on her birthday, you couldn't help but feel bad for being mad at him. Izuku had so much on his shoulders and you wanted to take that weight from him.

Izuku groaned while nodding, feeling sleepy all of a sudden. That's when your daughter chimed her sauce into the conversation as well. "I wanna be an older sister, daddy! I want a younger sibling for my next birthday!"

Safe to say that Izuku fulfilled that wish the moment your daughter fell sound asleep and you got your world rocked yet again.

---

Bruh... I kinda cringed towards the end because I wanted it to be like, y'know, wholesome but because I'm also a huge perv so I wrote a sentence ending like that aaaannnnnd yea, I hope that was good or even half of what you were expecting.

Also, please tell me if it was good or not because this is like my third request or so, so I'm not really that used to receiving stuff like that. But it was fun! I am always happy to get requests from you guys!

Read you in the next post!

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Whumptober day 20!

Time and the shadow have a little talk…

1001 words

Warnings- mentions of death, being doomed by the narrative. Let me know if there should be more!

~~~~

This is going to work. We’ve got this, Wars had said with a smile. Twi grins excitedly back, high fiving the sailor.

“We’re gonna win.” Wild nodded, a grin stretching across his face.

They’re hopeful. Excited. Have a plan.

Hopeful. They were so hopeful.

The town burns, and he’s reminded of his time in Castle Town after waking up after his seven year sleep.

The pale red sky from flames, ash and smoke making the air hard to breathe and painful in his lungs.

Dark Link walks closer to him, face stony. “Hero of Time. How’s your failure feel?”

“About as good as that wound in your side feels.” He spits, scowling at the shadow.

A small chuckle.

“And how does it feel knowing your friends are dead? Gone? As a result of your failure?”

His lips twist into a snarl, refusing to believe it.

As if reading his mind, the shadow speaks again. “Don’t believe me? Twilight and Wind were trying to evacuate villagers. It took several of my beasts to take them down. Fought ferociously, those two. Protective to the very end. Wars was leading offense with Legend and Sky. Wild and Four were archers backing them up. Hyrule was with the town medic, trying to help the injured. Always so selfless, that one. He was so exhausted from magical usage that it was easy to take him down.”

He growls, lunging at the shadow but freezing before he reaches it. Dark Link laughs. “Ah ah ah, Hero of Time. There’s none of that, now. I won fair and square.”

“You’ll regret touching them.” He snarls, baring his teeth. “You’ll pay for their pain.”

“Oh, Time. You should know better than anyone- that’s a price that can’t be repaid.”

“You’ll suffer three times what they did. You won’t win. We’re destined for success- I know my future.”

Dark Link snarls, now, expression twisting. “You’re destined for failure after failure after failure! All you heroes are so foolish! Why do you think you’ve all faced Ganon?! You fail! And you fail again! And again! It’s not a pattern- it’s a curse! The cycle can’t be broken! You’re destined to fail again and again! Your descendants suffer endlessly, doomed to face the same battles you did!”

His blood chills. “No.”

The shadow shakes its head. “You fool.” But it’s almost pitying, no longer angry. “You haven’t made that connection? Your boy Twilight faced Ganon. Wind faced Ganon- he actually killed him rather than sealed him away. His timeline is safe- for now. Ganon returns. Ganon always returns- and he wants his vengeance. The pitiful thing you call your success only leads to your descendants suffering. Sealing Ganon isn’t permanent. You caused your descendants pain with your failure.”

“That’s why you side with him.”

A small smile. “Ganon wants to break the curse. That’s all he wants. Will it come at a cost? Yes. But think about what’s going to come of it. One more person will suffer rather than a whole bloodline. It can be ended, Hero of Time. You’re wiser than the others- you understand, don’t you? We can stop the cycle.”

His mind races, but he shakes his head. “No.”

A frown. “No?”

“It can’t be broken. Not by us, not by Zelda, not by Ganon. You said it’s a curse- Ganon succeeding won’t stop the curse, either. A hero will rise and take Ganon down. And the cycle will just continue. Legend’s from a timeline where the hero died- another hero came along and defeated Ganon. The cycle won’t be broken.”

That surprises the shadow. “Legend- wh… you lie!”

“I don’t.”

The shadow is agitated now, pacing around. “No… I see. I understand. It’s a lie. It’s all a lie.”

“I-”

“Ganon lied… I see. No… he doesn’t know.”

Dark Link looks at him, expression… odd.

“I will return you back. Before this happened. New information has been understood, and I believe we both need time to think it over.”

“Wait-”

“Until next time, Hero of Time.” The shadow says, and the world grows fuzzy and spins until he can’t look anymore and closes his eyes.

Then he hears the sounds of his teammates moving around, their soft conversation and laughter.

He can hear Wars and Wind arguing as they both laugh, Legend’s voice hiding laughter as he takes sides, Twi’s laughter and Wild’s as food is being cooked. The sounds of a sword being taken care of, cleaned and polished, Four’s quiet voice explaining what he’s doing and Hyrule asking questions.

When he drags his eye open, Sky’s nestled next to him, fast asleep on his shoulder.

A blanket covers them, Sky’s arm wrapped around it sleepily.

“Hey, Old Man!” Wind says happily upon seeing him. “You’re up, great, can you tell Wars that the ocean is aqua, not turquoise?”

He looks blearily at the captain, repeating Wind’s words as the sailor laughs and Wars looks incredibly offended.

“You’re not even going to hear my argument? Ok, Old Man, I knew the sailor was your favorite.”

He can’t help but to smile, draping an arm over Sky. “There’s no argument to be made. The ocean is aqua, that’s where the name comes from.”

“But if you compare aqua to the ocean, they don’t match!” Wars argues, and he laughs as Wind argues back.

“I still think the sky is aqua.” Legend mutters, and both the captain and the sailor turn on the veteran.

Four gives a sigh from the other side of camp, smiling gently and meeting his eyes. “They’ve been at it for an hour.”

Hyrule snickers as he smiles again, shaking his head.

He has no idea if he just had the weirdest dream of his life, or… or if he had some sort of vision… or… if it was real and he just accidentally made a temporary alliance with their enemy.

But he looks around, and his newfound family is happy, safe, and very much alive and well, so he’ll worry about it later.

~~~~

[omniblades-and-stars]

Tipping Point

Got Your Six: Part 4

“I want to activate the Project.”

"Warning: Activating the Project will result in an estimated three hundred and five thousand casualties. Do you wish to continue?"

Fuck, this can't be the only way, can it? I can't do this. 

Even as she was thinking that she couldn't, she pressed the big, red button. It was a decision she could not undo, and the cost had been so high as to be nigh unfathomable. How can you measure the costs when the whole universe is at stake? What kind of person does something like this? 

War criminal.

Terrorist.

… Hero?

Commander Shepard didn't know anymore. Who was she to make the call to destroy a mass relay? She wasn't actually even a commander in the Alliance military anymore, everyone just kept on calling her that. It felt like a cruel joke. Everything had been taken from her, even her core identity. Helen was a shadow of who she used to be. She felt like a walking parody. 

Only, parodies didn't kill masses of innocents, did they?

You're not supposed to come back from dying. I should have just stayed dead.

Her thoughts had been growing darker and darker the closer her team drew to going through the Omega-4 Relay. Guilt gnawed at her bones with teeth like wolves. It was a constant itch, just in the spot between her shoulder blades that she couldn't reach to scratch.

I deserve whatever is coming to me.

This isn't who I am!

It wasn't, right?

"Liara, now!" Shepard shouted, and her biotic friend sent a dining table crashing into Tela Vasir, and freeing the woman she was holding hostage. The Commander was relieved that her bluff had not needed to be tested. Would she have shot a hostage to stop the Spectre agent?

The fact that she was not certain that she wouldn't was deeply alarming, and she didn't want to find out the answer. So much had already changed for her, since her resurrection. Helen did not want even more confirmation that she could never go back to how she was before her death.

And definitely not the kind of woman who would harm a hostage to reach her goals.

Confident.

Principled.

Just.

Merciful. 

Not the kind of woman who would destroy an entire star system …

What is happening to me? Who am I? I wasn't like this before.

Thoughts were already tearing her up in a storm.

The Spectre didn't give her enough time to contemplate the matter. There was no room for ruminating on the nature of death, the consequences of being brought back from the hereafter, or if that was even why Shepard felt the cracks forming around her personality. Tela Vasir began to glow a vibrant, neon blue and Commander Shepard did the same, disappearing in a second and reappearing down clear on the other end of the hotel patio.

"I'm going to end you, Vasir!" Commander Shepard shouted as she sent forth a ground-shaking shockwave that went barreling into the asari agent, knocking her backwards. She was so fucking angry at the woman, for setting off a bomb and harming innocents, for threatening Liara's life … for mirroring Shepard's own very recent behavior.

The fight was tough. Actually, tough was an understatement. Tela was an insanely powerful biotic soldier, and she had back up from the Shadow Broker's agents. She gave as good as she got, but she didn't have what Shepard did: Liara T'Soni, now brimming with power, confidence and a hard edge that Helen felt was all too familiar, and Tali'Zorah, who could hack just about anything and bring an enemy down using only her omni-tool and a paperclip. The battle turned quickly, and Commander Shepard's squad pressed their advantage until they had the boastful Spectre agent cornered and dying.

Even as she bled out, Tela Vasir managed to argue with Shepard about her methods. The asari Spectre had blown up an entire building to get information! She was working with the Shadow Broker, who was working for the Collectors, who were working for the Reapers and were harvesting humans with the goal to take all of Earth. 

Tela Vasir was bad, and Commander Shepard was good, right?

Fuck! I don't know.

“Besides, you’re with Cerberus. You have any idea what your terrorist friends have done?” Vasir’s question sent a spike straight through the Commander’s core. It tore away the thin veil she so carefully crafted to hide away all of her doubts, her fear … her anger.

“I know who they are and what they’ve done. It doesn’t matter.” The words sounded hollow, meaningless even as Helen said them. She was lying; it did matter. Shepard cared so much about what Cerberus had done, and was almost certainly still doing, that it kept her awake at night. Gave her ulcers. Kept her from eating. She agonized about it constantly. The Illusive Man's constant refrain about old operations and rogue agents was about as true and comforting as her own lie. Not at all.

“I think it does. You want to judge me? Look in the mirror. Kidnapping kids for biotic death camps! Hell, your own unit on Akuze! And you’re with them. Don't you dare judge me! Don't … you … dare." Vasir's dying accusations whipped around inside her mind, ricocheting like dangerous little bullets. They pulled at the fraying threads of doubt with spidering fingers. The ride back to the docking bay was one spent in stony silence as Shepard replayed those words over and over again.

The guilt and self-hatred sank its gnarled claws into her lungs. "You're no better than her," it whispered in her ear. "No, you're much worse," the voice told her, words slithering through the grooves in her mind, spreading and taking root like an invasive weed. It sounded like her own voice, but darker, seductive. It laid a shadow of gloom over her thoughts, and simultaneously ignited the fury that she was barely keeping at bay. “It would have been better for the galaxy if you’d stayed dead.”

Maybe the voice was right.

I shouldn't be alive.

He barely noticed the EDI node activate behind him as he recalibrated the forward gun battery's firing algorithm. Helen recently installed the Thanix Cannon upgrade, and now it needed to be readjusted.

And readjusted again.

And again.

He definitely was not checking and rechecking the calibrations to deal with his mounting anxiety about the suicide mission, and his plans with Helen before they head through the Omega-4 Relay into the dark unknown beyond it. They were going to get the Reaper IFF after they helped T’Soni, and who wouldn’t worry about getting on a derelict Reaper?

No, it was simply very important that the gun battery was working well beyond standard operating parameters.

"Garrus, Commander Shepard has returned to the Normandy," the AI chimed suddenly, breaking Garrus' concentration with a start. 

"Thanks, EDI," Garrus intoned without looking up from his console. He would give Helen some time to get herself together, or drop by his little hidey-hole on her own. He just liked to know when she made it back aboard. He wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if he didn't worry about her, even if she was by far the most capable person he had ever met, human or otherwise. And he was including himself in that calculation.

But still, he did worry. A lot.

"Garrus, there is a problem, you are needed in the cargo bay," EDI continued, its synthetic feminine voice sounding worried.

Shit.

"What happened? Get Dr. Chakwas, I'm on my way!" He turned rapidly and made for the door.

The strange globe of light that served as EDI's interface pulsated, "I apologize, I have not made myself clear. The problem is Commander Shepard. Tali'Zorah asked me to send you to the cargo bay. She said you would know what to do."

"Shit! I'll be right down."

"Yeah, you better walk fast lover boy, before she puts a hole in my baby," Joker added over the intercom. The door to the gun battery was already closing behind Garrus before the pilot finished his sentence. He ran through the mess hall to the elevator, nearly knocking Thane to his ass in his mad rush.

"Sorry, Krios, no time to explain!" He apologized vaguely as the elevator door slid shut. It always seemed like the elevator took forever, but now it felt like an eternity. Imagining what in the galaxy Helen was doing in the cargo bay that required his intervention only made the ride stretch on into infinity. What happened on Illium? The last update he received was that he needed to be ready to drop in several hours.

It's happening again. I need to get there faster. Should have crawled through the maintenance shaft.

The last week or two had been very stressful for Helen, he knew. First, there was that whole mess with Zaeed. Garrus had seen Shepard angry before, but her response to the man's absolute disregard for the lives of innocent blue collar workers had been incandescent. It was the first time she'd ever cold-clocked a squadmate in anger (he was not counting the time on the SR-1 where she swung at him, she never actually punched him). He had been certain that she was going to put a bullet in the man's other eye at the end of it. Her pistol was right there, so close, the barrel was almost touching the mercenary’s skin. But instead, she offered Zaeed a hand and pulled him from the wreckage, effectively zipping up her anger into a neat little pocket, somewhere nice and deep where it would fester.

Then there was the business in the Bahak system. Or what was left of it anyhow. How a personal favor for Admiral Hackett turned into something the batarians were calling a war crime (and maybe rightly so) was far beyond him. Hundreds of thousands of people died because of her decisions there, and she had made them alone, with no input from her friends or any back up whatsoever. And now she was going to have to stand trial in front of the Alliance for it. 

She's already given too much of herself. And now they want to take what's left.

How kind of them to let her finish her extremely deadly mission to save humanity before they hauled her away.

Helen was not sleeping again, he found her more and more often sitting on the observation deck drinking too much coffee and staring into the endless expanse of stars during the night cycle. She was falling apart, and they were so close to being ready to go through the relay and destroy the Collectors. If Commander Shepard couldn't handle the strain of it, there was literally no one else in the galaxy who could. 

Before the elevator even came to a complete stop, Garrus could hear the sound of something enormous crashing into the bulkhead. The door slid open to reveal a massacre of storage crates, cargo straps, loose pieces of Cerberus armor, and a few standard issue Avenger assault rifles scattered across the deck. Commander Shepard would never let her ship look like this.

Except that Commander Shepard was the one who wreaked this particular havoc, was still wreaking actually. She was standing dead center of the cargo deck, bathed in violet energy so intense it had pulled her hair free, it floated up around her as if she were underwater. She was wreathed by a glowing halo of her own power. It was terrible and it was beautiful all the same.

Oh, shit.

He was just about to call her name when she lifted another crate into the air, the same purple blue glow around her glowed around the large box. "Who am I?" she screamed as she hefted the crate into the wall she was facing. It crashed with incredible violence, the sturdy metal of the crate crumpled against the hull with a terrible scraping sound. 

"Helen," Garrus started quietly, taking a tentative step toward her. This was far beyond the last time she tipped over the edge. "You're Helen." His heart rate increased, she was going to hurt herself, was already hurting herself. He was afraid for her. 

She turned to face him, bright electric light flashed and played over her skin, almost like she was covered in a strange azure fire. Helen's nose was bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Commander Helen Shepard died! How can I be her?" She shouted and sent a shockwave rocking across the deck, away from Garrus. Detritus went scattering and crashing out as the intense and loud waves of energy pulsed down the cargo bay. Fresh blood dribbled down to her lips.

"I don't know how it works, Commander. But you are Helen," he moved in closer, he was only a few feet away now, but he knew she wouldn't hurt him. 

Please hear me, Helen.

Shepard lifted one of the assault rifles with her biotics and crumpled it into a ball, "Would the real Commander Shepard join Cerberus? Knowing what they did to Admiral Kahoku, what they did to her unit? To Toombs?" The sad little gun ball fell to the ground at her feet, and she threw a blast into the side of the Kodiak. It fizzled out against the side of the shuttle transport without damaging it. Which was good, because they needed that thing in just a few hours. She was getting tired. "Would Helen have doomed an entire fucking colony to die because of fucking visions? She was a hero! I can't be her, I'm a goddamned terrorist! A fucking lunatic!"

I have to do something. She's going to have a hemorrhage!

In his panic to subdue her, Garrus did something that was probably very inadvisable, and wrapped his arms around her. He could feel the power roiling just over his hide, prickling and hot. It fucking hurt. "You're Helen," he began again, pulling her in close, "and I know that you wouldn't have done any of those things unless you knew there was no other way. The scale of this is too big. There were always going to be casualties. Sometimes, all of the choices are the wrong one."

Something seemed to break through, finally. Helen blinked, the biotic power around her fluctuated. "The dead aren't supposed to come back," she cried out and pressed her forehead against his armored chest. The light around her went out very suddenly, the painful needles playing on Garrus' skin faded away. Her voice cracked, and her hands hung limply at her sides, "Why did it have to be me?" Commander Helen Shepard began to weep. Her chest heaved, and the sobs came out of her so hard, it felt like they were crashing against her chest before clawing their way up her throat.

Garrus tightened his grip around her, and threaded his fingers into her hair to press her cheek against his armor. Her own armor scraped against his with an uncomfortable grating noise, but he ignored it. "The galaxy needs you, Shepard," he started to say, and he felt her tense. She was balling her fists up, preparing to have another go at the innocent supplies already turned into flotsam and jetsam. "I need you, Helen." 

Helen went limp against him, depending entirely on him to keep her standing. She wrapped her arms around him. "It's too much, Garrus. It's too much for one person to bear. I shouldn't even be here," she whispered, suddenly sounding very weak. 

No, Helen, please.

"It's not fair what you're expected to do. But you're not alone. You don't need to shoulder it all, I'm here with you," Garrus assured her and rested his chin on her head. It wasn't enough, but what else could he say? There was almost nothing available to prepare him for supporting someone who was trying to save the galaxy. There was absolutely nothing to prepare him for supporting someone who had been brought back to life. He felt adrift, grasping at useless words to try to soothe the storm raging inside of her.

Once he could feel her breathing return to something close to normal, he turned her and slid one of her arms over his shoulder, preparing to lead her to the elevator. "Let's get you up to your room."

"I need to clean this mess up, Garrus." She tried to resist, but she was so exhausted, he led her away from the disaster. Even with her top of the line, experimental cybernetics and bio-amps, extended use of biotic power on this threshold was sapping. It was some wonder that she was still conscious. 

Garrus laughed softly, feeling much more sure of himself in this thread of conversation. Reminding the Commander to take physical care of herself was something he excelled at now, "Commander, you have a full crew on this ship. Let them clean it. You're going to sleep until we reach Hagalaz, and that is an order."

"Cocky, insubordinate asshole," Shepard grumbled as she stumbled along with him to the elevator. She leaned heavily against Garrus, but he didn't move to pick her up. If there was one thing he was absolutely certain of, it was that one did not pick up Commander Shepard unless she was unconscious. She hated it.

“EDI, make sure this elevator doesn’t stop for anyone else until the Commander is in her cabin,” Garrus requested to the open air.

“Of course, Garrus,” the AI confirmed the command, and it was silent in the elevator again. Helen’s sobs had now turned to occasional hiccups, and she stared at her feet. 

Helen hissed through her teeth as they walked into her cabin. The intense blue light coming from the aquarium wall sent strands of painful colors scattering through her vision. She closed her eyes as hard as she could stand, and fought the wave of nausea that washed over her from the photophobic sensation. “Garrus, please, turn off that light. Too bright.”

“On it, Helen,” Garrus said, barely above a whisper. He walked with her still hanging on to his side over to the aquarium controls. He turned off the lights … and fed her fish. Spirits only knew that they were only alive because of his steadfast reminders, or just coming up and doing it himself. She didn’t have this problem feeding the hamster. 

Garrus didn’t mind taking care of the fish for her. It was a silent way to help her, one small task that she didn’t even need to remember that she was forgetting to do. Quite frankly, he didn’t know why Cerberus had even put a fish tank on the ship. Certainly, this wasn’t a military vessel, but it was absolutely not a cruise ship. The gun that he spent most of his free time tinkering with was top of the line combat hardware, the ship’s engines were some of the most advanced engines one could find in a ship, military or not. Every single member of the crew carried a gun. There was a krogan down on the engineering deck who would eat anything you gave to him. This was no place for pet fish.

He led the poor woman to her bed and helped her sit down. She sunk down into the mattress, leaning over her knees, and still staring at her feet. Helen was still wearing her armor, and her hair was all tangled up in her tactical visor. An enormous and defeated sigh rolled out of her, and impossibly, she slumped even more. “Garrus, can you help me get out of this shit? My arms weigh a million pounds right now.” She was trying to mask her embarrassment with hyperbole and humor. Helen hated asking for help.

Garrus silently set about undoing all of the clasps and seals holding her armor pieces together over the combat suit beneath. He placed each piece gently on the floor, careful to be respectful of her very well maintained (and very expensive) armor. As he looked up to help her free the visor from the depths of her hopelessly mussed hair, he saw that she was crying again. His brow plates furrowed, and his mandibles fluttered before clamping down against his mouth. “Helen?” he asked as he wiped a tear away with his curled talon, careful to be as gentle as possible.

It took Helen several seconds and a deep and trembling inhale before she was able to expel anything close to coherent words. “They’re going to take me away from you,” she finally managed to gasp over a truly ugly sounding sob.

He pressed his forehead to hers, and took a deep breath of his own. His chest ached, it was a truth they both knew, but they had not yet crossed the bridge of discussing it. “I know. I know, Helen … but we can worry about that later. If we survive the Collectors, we can worry about it then,” he tried to reassure her, to reassure them both. He took her hand and held it tight. “One big worry at a time, right?”

Helen leaned forward pressing her forehead into his as deeply as she could manage, as though any space between them was intolerable. She basked in the tenderness. It was one of her favorite turian gestures, it suited her perfectly. “If it were that easy to just stop worrying, I wouldn’t have torn apart the cargo bay.”

“Sounded good when I said it though, right?”

She weakly pushed his shoulder back with her free hand, a small smile turned the corner of her mouth, “You’re lucky I need you around. Cocky-”

“Insubordinate asshole,” he finished for her with a smile. “Now, come on, I wasn’t joking when I ordered you to sleep. You can’t stop the Collectors if you eat a bullet in the Shadow Broker’s base because you fell asleep behind cover.”

“It’ll take more than one bullet to do me in, Vakarian,” Helen pouted but allowed herself to be tucked in, still wearing her combat suit. Garrus even pulled the cover up to her chin, and pressed his mouth plates to her forehead. He turned to leave. “Garrus, where are you going?”

“I was in the middle of some calibrations when EDI called me down to the cargo bay,” he offered dumbly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Please, don’t leave me alone. I need you here,” Shepard said sleepily. “The gun can wait. There’s no way you can get it working even better than it already is.”

Garrus laughed, happy for the distraction from his sudden awkwardness. “Well, now it’s a challenge. I will get it firing better.”

“Garrus, please? I can’t sleep by myself anymore. I need you here. I know that armor comes off somehow, you weren’t born in it.”

Garrus shifted uncomfortably, before turning back to approach her bed. He hesitated for a moment. This was a boundary they had not crossed yet, even innocent as it was.

Fuck it.

She was asking, and she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t mean it. That’s not the kind of woman Helen was. Still, he answered with a quip, to sooth the brewing anxiety, “I thought you knew, all turians just look like this. I’ve been nude the entire time you’ve known me.”

“Is that why you haven’t replaced that blown up piece of shit yet? And here I thought it was just because you must have lost all of your money in an arm wrestling competition against Grunt,” Helen joked from somewhere within her pillow. Her eyes were closed, it was hard to keep them open with the pain running rampant through her brain. She heard the giant hunk of metal that covered his chest hit the ground, and the mattress tilt back away from her.

“Not all of us like to buy every piece of armor that someone tries to sell us, like you do,” he said, suddenly right up against her ear. His breath was warm, the dual tones of his alien voice were reassuring, and deeply pleasing. Perhaps if she hadn't worn herself out so thoroughly, it might have invoked altogether different feelings. No less pleasant ones, but far less relaxing.

It took a few very awkward moments for them to figure out exactly how their bodies would fit around each other. They were very briefly a tangle of limbs, elbows, and knees. Helen even giggled while they tried to figure it out. 

Helen tucked herself in with her cheek pressed against his chest. She could hear his heart beat, it was strong and fast. She smiled because she knew he was nervous. It was deeply amusing, in her lighter moods, that she made a seven foot tall alien with literal bone and metal plates covering his body so anxious. His awkward stumbling when they were alone together was something to look forward to. A bright spot in the ever darkening and hopeless tapestry of the galaxy around her. "Thank you, for being a reason for me to be thankful that I got a second chance," she whispered. 

With his arms wrapped around her, and her body tucked against him, her brain finally started to cycle down. She yawned and rubbed her cheek against his chest. The sound of his gentle breathing carried her off into blessedly dreamless sleep, something she had not had since the beacon on Eden Prime.

If only they could have stayed there like that forever. But they only had a few precious hours. The universe waited for no one.

And apparently, neither did Dr. Liara T'Soni on a revenge fueled rescue mission.

[believingispowerfulmagic]

The Dark Legacy

Summary: Sequel to "The Prince of Darkness." Things in Storybrooke have been relatively quiet since the dark entity that turned people in the Dark One was destroyed and Robin Hood was its last host. Now a family of six, the Locksley-Mills are happy and content, with only the clash between Regina and Robin and Zelena over little Haven their main worry.

When their daughters turn five, though, they start to worry about the magic inherited from Robin's dark heritage and the power their two little girls have. A strange presence takes an interest in the girls, forcing Robin and Regina to team up with Zelena to protect the children from a cruel fate. Their quest will bring them to a strange and challenging new land--the Underworld.

Stakes are high as our heroes are forced to face their own pasts and what it means for their children's futures as well as their own.

Chapter 1: FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Chapter 7: Self-Care

FFN (non-smut) | AO3 | Wattpad

Excerpt:

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Regina asked Archie, nervously rubbing her arm as they stood in his office.

He nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I may have gotten my degree from a curse but I think I can still mediate this."

She winced, recognizing her own words. "I'm sorry about that. I was angry and lashing out."

"I know," he assured her with a kind smile. "Though it was true."

"It doesn't mean it was right. Or that you're not actually a good therapist," she replied. "You've definitely helped almost everyone in this town."

His cheeks turned pink and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you, Regina. That means a lot coming from you."

"I've learned to respect people a lot more," she told him. "My sister on the other hand…"

"Do you think she's going to show up?" Robin asked, standing in the doorway as he watched the stairs.

Regina shrugged. "I hope so. She keeps saying she loves Haven and wants to be part of her life. Now is the time to prove it."

"She still has five minutes," Archie pointed out.

"Why don't you come sit down? It's going to feel like an eternity if you're staring at the stairs," Regina said, urging her husband to walk away from the door.

Robin sighed but walked toward her. He gently gripped her hips as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I just want to get this over with."

"I know," she said softly. "I'm nervous about how this will go too and will feel better when it's over."

They heard the door downstairs open and close. Her heart sped up as Robin pulled away from her, looking at the door. "I think she's here."

A few moments later, Zelena appeared in the doorway. She scowled as she took in Robin and Regina. "What? Thought I wasn't going to show? Or rather did you hope I wasn't?"

"No, we were waiting for you," Regina replied.

Zelena snorted. "It looks like you were making out. I hope you don't subject my daughter to such displays."

Robin started to move forward but Regina held him back, though she scowled at her sister. "We're appropriate in our displays of affection around our children but we don't hide them. It's important for them to see it's okay to be affectionate."

"Whatever," Zelena replied, rolling her eyes. "Just don't traumatize my daughter, okay?"

"I can assure you, Zelena, that Regina and I always have Haven's best interest at heart," Robin said. Regina could hear how he was trying to keep his tone even.

Archie jumped in at that point, motioning to the chairs set up. "Why don't we all have seats so we can begin?"

Regina tugged on Robin's hand and switched places with him so she was sitting between him and Zelena. She felt better serving as a buffer between the two. Either she would be able to calm Robin down or flambe her sister, whatever the situation called for.

Taking his chair, Archie looked over the three of them before starting the session. "Thank you for coming. I think it's safe to say that we all have Haven's best interests at heart…"

"No, I don't think it's safe to that say that," Zelena snapped. "I certainly do. My sister and her forest hobo, on the other hand, only care about hurting me. Haven is nothing more than pawn to them."

Regina glared at her sister, clenching her fists so she didn't do something stupid. "That's a lot of projection there."

"And what do you mean by that?" Zelena asked, fire in her eyes. Regina started to regret choosing to sit next to her and wondered if they could rearrange things quickly so Archie served as the buffer instead.

He stepped in, holding up his hands. "Let's take a few deep breaths. We're not going to get anywhere if we're already at each other's throats."

"She started it," Zelena said, pointing to Regina. She sounded like a petulant child.

"We are not here to play the blame game," Archie told her.

She scoffed. "Of course not. Because no one in this town ever goes against my sister. You're all too scared of her. But wicked is much worse than evil, I assure you all of that."

"That's not what's happening at all," Regina told her. "This isn't some giant conspiracy, Zelena."

"That's what you want me to believe," Zelena told her.

Robin huffed. "It's the truth, Zelena."

Archie frowned, shifting in his chair. "You need to have an open mind for this to work, Zelena."

"For what to work? The brainwashing? I won't join the rest of this town in kissing my sister's ass, thank you very much," she replied, crossing her arms.

Regina sighed. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"No," Robin assured her, rubbing her knee. "You're trying to give Zelena a chance and that's admirable."

"Oh, please," Zelena said, rolling her eyes. "Regina can't get everything she wants and should get used to that."

Anger surged through Regina. "Despite what you've convinced yourself, I already am used to not getting what I want."

"Really? Because it's clear you just keep getting what you want! You have power and control as mayor, you have a husband who absolutely adores you and will do anything for you, and you have three children who love you. All I want is my fair share and that starts with Haven!" Zelena yelled, some green starting to appear on her neck.

Noticing, Regina frowned as a chill swept through her body. She held out her hand. "Show me your arm."

Zelena recoiled from her, scowling yet again. "What? Why?"

"You know why," Regina told her. "Show me. Now."

With an exaggerated sigh, Zelena pushed up her sleeve and shoved her arm into Regina's face. "It's there. Don't worry. I haven't taken it off."

Regina frowned. "Then why is your skin still turning green?"

"Very funny," Zelena hissed, pulling her arm back. She tilted her head and her scowl dropped, no doubt recognizing that Regina was genuinely confused. Zelena jumped up and hurried to a mirror Archie had in the office, gasping as she ran her hand over the green spot on her neck. "How is this happening?"

"I may not know much about magic, but it seems the strength of your envy of Regina is even greater than the bracelet you wear," Archie mused.

Zelena glared at him. "You have no idea how magic works, cricket, so shut up."

"Don't snap at him," Regina told her. "He's just trying to help."

"You. He's trying to help you, not me," her sister retorted, turning back to Regina. She pointed to the green patch. "Remove it."

Regina, though, could only shake her head as she was just as confused as her sister. "I don't know if I can."

"What do you mean? You like to brag that you're such a powerful witch. Prove it!" Zelena screeched at her.

"If the band that's supposed to stop your magic isn't stopping it, how can I then? It may not even be magic!" Regina protested, her blood starting to boil as she wished Zelena would stick with one belief about her. Either she was a second-rate witch who couldn't hold a candle to Zelena or she was the most powerful one, even more so than Zelena.

Zelena let out a frustrated groan, holding up her hands and looking as if she was going to choke Regina. "You're useless!"

Robin jumped in front of her, holding up a hand as he glared at Zelena. "I don't want to hurt you but…"

She let out a burst of cold laughter. "What a joke! Of course you want to hurt me. There's still darkness in you, tempting you to hurt me, to kill me. Then you and my sister can be free of your guilt."

"And you're trying to provoke me," he replied, his fingers twitching as he no doubt fought the urge to ball them into fists. "I've been in enough fights to recognize that."

"What a winner you've picked, sis," Zelena sneered.

Dr. Hopper jumped between the two of them. "I think we all need to take some steps back and a few calming breaths."

"Like I'm going to take advice from a cricket," she spat at him.

"Opposite corners," Archie said, using a firmer tone than usual. He stared down Zelena as he pointed to the corner behind her. "Go there."

She held his gaze for a few more moments before storming off, muttering something under her breath the entire time. Archie then turned to Robin and Regina, pointing to the opposing corners behind them. "You two, those corners over there."

Regina nodded, pulling Robin with her as she retreated to where he indicated. She pushed Robin toward one corner before taking the other one. Archie Hopper meant business and for now, she was going to listen to him.

[kokohamstar]

High Five (A JonTim Fic)

Jon loves high fives. He doesn't know why. Maybe it was just the lack of interaction with other children growing up? Maybe the media portrayal of high fives showing such camaraderie that he hadn't experienced but...it was a weakness. And the kind that he had to jump for, like in super hero movies...he was far too ashamed to ever admit it aloud, but they were his favorite.

He tried to keep this guilty pleasure to himself, Georgie knew. Somehow Elias had found out and literally held it over his head every once in a while...but the first one in the archives to find out, of course, had to be Tim.

Tim was giving himself a pat on the back when he offered his boss a high five, and, far too eagerly, Jon reciprocated the gesture. Tim was taken aback for a moment, but he smiled. So his boss did have some kind of childishness in him, after all.

From then on, any time Tim had any luck with research, anything worth congratulating, he celebrated it with a high five with Jon. Gradually he went to the "up high" and watched as the shorter man jumped up to meet him. He tried to hold back the slight chuckle, but Jon laughed first, and so he allowed himself to join in. He was always at least polite enough to keep their secret fun behind closed doors. It was Tim's own pleasure. He didn't want to share this side of Jon with anyone. He didn't know why.

Then Jane Prentiss attacked, and Jon shut down. Worse than that, Jon stopped trusting him. Jon started... stalking him. The high fives stopped.

Jon knew there would be a price for his distrust. He didn't realize exactly what it was he was missing at first. When Tim knocked on his door, bringing him the latest bit of research, he noticed that the door stayed open. Tim didn't come in. He told Tim that he'd done a good job, and Tim just nodded, but his hand stayed still. Tim thanked him for the compliment, and turned away. Jon's hand, strangely, felt numb.

Things didn't get better.

Tim became angry. The trust was broken. The high fives were gone. The only time the door was closed was so that they could yell at each other without drawing a crowd.

The investigation distracted him. Jon was getting closer to something and he had to figure it out. Then Tim gave his statement. Jon's heart felt heavy as he listened to the tape. There was no way that Tim wasn't going to be part of this. And he was right.

As they entered the wax museum, his hand itched. He just wanted a "let's do this" high five, but he wouldn't ask.

Then the world twisted around them. He was face to face with Nikola before Tim appeared. He looked at Tim's hand and pulled an answer from him. "What's in your hand?" And Tim smiled. He knew with that smile, that, even though their friendship could have been mended after this fight, Tim would never give him another high five.

Tim's smile turned to Nikola. "I know."

Jon didn't know who he was talking about, but that was the last thing he heard before everything ended.

It would be a long time before he heard the words that Tim was gone. But he already knew that he'd never feel the man's hand against his again. He'd already said goodbye to that feeling the moment he saw him smile with the detonator in his grasp.

[iron-niffler]

Have you heard that Tony Stark will be getting married to Emma Frost in the comics in the fall?

https://www.marvel.com/articles/comics/tony-stark-emma-frost-wedding-x-men-invincible-iron-man-crossover

And now as a groom, Tony decided to show some cleavage because he doesn’t care wedding traditions. (Man, this confirms Tony Stark does a wedding his way! Just like female his counterpart deep in the multiverse! LOL! Natasha Stark: Gets married suited up! Tony Stark: Shows cleavage on his wedding day! And this also proves Tony was always destined to marry a blonde because Natasha legit married Steve Rogers, a blonde and Emma Frost is a blonde too)

I talked about it here!

https://www.tumblr.com/peonycreme/721318495851266048/its-finally-happening-tony-stark-and-emma

But given Emma Frost is a single mother to five daughters, that means Tony Stark will officially be a father! (Before, he was Iron Dad, he was a father to the fatherless, now HE WILL BE A DAD)

He’ll no longer be a surrogate father but a father father!

Give this man a World’s Best Dad STAT!!!

And while Tony gets a wife and 5 daughters, I can hear Cyclops crying, crying because he lost his favorite victim but Cyclops actually deserves this because of how disgusting he is. (Sorry, Cyclops is one of my least favorite Marvel heroes because whenever I look at him, I see Glenn Quagmire from Family Guy, yep, Cyclops is a married man who is very unloyal to his wife, Jean Grey, he just knocks up lots of women and was a very neglectful father to his children (Cable and his siblings) when they were growing up because of this, his family never forgave him and Cable just practically lives in space now because of his father (imagine being so angry with your family you don’t want to be on the same planet as them? That’s how Cable feels). And when he tried to make amends, when his children were grown up, he was not taken seriously because the damage has already been done. But all this never phased him because he just keeps doing what he does. So, to me, Tony Stark marrying Emma Frost is not only a good thing for Tony, Emma, and her daughters but a good thing for Cyclops because he deserves to have Emma be taken away from him, he has already done enough damage)

Either way, while I am happy to see this, at the same time, I have to get used to this couple because I just can’t imagine Emma and Tony being together (if anything, I can see marrying Tarantula (Maria Vasquez, the underrated Marvel hero who used to be part of the Defenders because just like him, she’s highly intelligent and has a science background) but you know, it’s just Marvel surprising us again and I hope they stay married because poor Tony wanted to get married but his first attempt didn’t work (Hellcat) so he’s getting married and he should just be happy with his new wife and daughters!

heard a bit about this, not entirely sure how i feel about it but irondad is a plus! haven't really been following the modern comics but i did hear that his relationship with hellcat was an absolute trainwreck so here's hoping this relationship is a bit better (although that isn't exactly a high bar they could literally sit on a couch and watch star wars and it would be 50x better than cantwells run) i don't really know a lot about x men or modern comics so don't have a lot of opinions on the matter (i prefer the roller skates and melodramatics of 60s-90s tony stark) but will be keeping an eye on this. all in all i don't have strong opinions about this but they seem like they like each other and are having a good time (and she's not berating tony every five seconds so that's a major plus!) so i guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens! also i agree tonys outfit is fantastic he looks so snazzy and i love it.

thanks for the ask!

[citalsmamcgovern]

The School Shooting Generation

This Is a longish essay/thought piece so brace yourself

TW: School Shootings

The School Shooting Generation

I saw a post on instagram today where a mom spoke about putting bulletproof shields into the backpacks of her children.  She was angry, and frustrated; she felt like she was doing anything she could and it wasn’t enough to keep her kids safe.  

I felt the expected wave of anger and frustration and perhaps less expected, guilt.  These were not the emotions of a parent stuck in an unimaginable situation of trying to protect their child.  I am not a parent.  I graduated high school in 2019.

I am on the upper end of Gen Z.  By many things people have tried to define our generation: by smartphones and social media, by covid, and by political tensions.  Those things do shape our generation, but some of the oldest of us don’t feel we grew up with the same relation to those factors as those only five years younger.  But what defines all of us in the US, all of our psychology as a generation, is the fear of gunfire in the halls. Columbine happened shortly before we were born.  We knew through our entire lives this was a possibility.  We heard teachers whispering in the halls around the country, having no idea what, if anything, they were supposed to say to their own students after classrooms of second graders died in Sandy Hook.  We practiced the switch from Code Red drills where we hid like sitting ducks under desks to ALICE training, where we were taught to build barricades, to run, and to fight for survival.  We knew this training was more effective under the premise that it saved more children, sacrificing whichever few were fighting up front, or running in the rear.  It wasn’t about saving everyone.  

When the Parkland shooting happened, we were in high school.  It could have been any school, it could have been our school.  It was not my school.  Despite a few scares, and a plethora of threats made entirely out the ass of whatever dumb kid wanted classes canceled, it was never my school.  It could have been my school.  

We felt so powerless.  We all wondered: When will it be here? Will I know the shooter? Will I know the victims? Will I live or die? Will I be a hero? Do you finish out the football season if someone on the team dies? What will we lose because it will be considered unsafe? Will anyone really care?

Then, the students from Parkland, they started screaming.  They led a movement.  They spoke up and faced down a world that said they weren’t old enough to vote but they were old enough to be sacrifices to a culture where guns were more protected than kids.  We followed them into the streets.  We felt like maybe, finally, we had a voice.  Maybe, finally, we were screaming loudly enough to be heard over the gunfire.  Maybe things would change.  We would not let it be our school next.  We would not let it be any school next.  We would not let it reach our younger siblings, our nieces, our nephews, the kids we coached and babysat.  They would not see the carnage.  

And nothing changed.  

We continued to have more school shootings every year.

Children continued dying.

We had been screaming in vain.

We fought like hell.

We lost.

I lived to graduate.

I went to college, adopted a cat, eventually stopped jumping every time there was noise in the hallways.  Universities aren’t spared, but they are so vast it’s not the same.  We aren’t fish in a barrel.

And I heard the news.  Again.  Again.  Again.  

And I felt guilty.  Maybe it is survivor’s guilt.  It never was my school though.  I never knew the victims.  But I did live to graduate.  Maybe it is guilt we did not fix the world.  That we failed.  This is an absurd reason to feel guilt.  We were children fighting like hell to be able to go to school safely.  We weren’t the ones responsible.  We should never have had to be fighting.  We didn’t break this world.  But we couldn’t fix it.  And now parents send their children to school with bulletproof backpacks, and those children are taught to fight for their lives.  Maybe it is guilt because if we are no longer the children, then we are part of the society that excuses their deaths as an acceptable price to pay to defend people’s ‘right’ to carry assault weapons without proper background checks.  It’s a shameful society to be a part of.  We are still voting for gun reform.  We are still fighting.  I don’t know if we’re screaming anymore.  Sometimes, we breathe a sigh of relief before the grief and the anger kick in, because we made it out.  

Thank you for your participation in the American Education System.  We hope you have learned your lesson in futility.  Here is your diploma of (dis)honorable discharge.  

[that-guy-smeaton]

MY TOP 10 K-DRAMAS OF 2022!

honestly, there weren’t so much k-dramas that i’ watched this year. and yep, as a k-drama junkie, i do not take pride. (i blame engineering for this *angry emoji*) 

anyway, you should know that it might not be the same as yours since we probably did not watch the same k-dramas, ofc! :\\

// in no particular order //

10. Tomorrow - there are so much life lessons that we could get from this. i think, now more than ever, it’s important to raise awareness that depression exists and that it should be taken seriously. it is definitely a great reminder to always be kind because everyone is fighting a hard battle that you may or may not know about.   

9. Little Women - i liked that it gets better every episode. it wasn’t boring at all because there were so much twists after twists which made the storyline more exciting and captivating. it’s also a reminder that money is powerful but it should never be the cause to lose your integrity. needless to say, i think this is one of the best k-dramas of 2022—cmon it’s kim go eun, everyone! 

8.  Business Proposal - it’s not a typical romantic comedy drama about the rich and poor relationship because the storyline is way more fresh. thus, it was definitely a good watch as it also deeply instilled life and love lessons in me. kim se jeong and ahn hyo seop?? AHUHU i hope they could cast again in another drama—their chemistry is undeniable!    

7. Money Heist Korea - although the plot was very predictable for me, as someone who had watched the original, i still think that it did not disappoint. overall, the storyline was perfect! the twists were Intriguing! the acting was phenomenal! the casts were remarkable! it still delivered the same message from the og that it was more than just a heist but a political revolution. 

6. Twenty Five Twenty One - ahuhuhu! though i am one of those who wished for a happy ending for hee-do and yi-jin, i also believe that it was really what the drama wanted to deliver. it was more than just a romantic drama, but a slice of life that will teach us to know our worth, to follow our passion, to cherish every moment, and to realize that love doesn’t always last forever. :(( 

5. Extraordinary Attorney Woo - not only did it tackle timely and relevant issues of the society that made it interesting, it was also undeniably an eye-opening and heartwarming drama that will teach us to be kind and to let go of prejudice. this is also a reminder to invest in good education, to get out of our comfort zone, to be happy with other people’s success, and to know that every one deserves to be treated with love and respect.  

4. Weak Hero Class 1 - i said it before and i will say it again: park ji hoon’s and choi hyun wook’s acting were out of the world! to be honest, i am not really a fan of action, but there was something in the plot that got me hooked. the analytical skill of si-eun was extraordinary which made it unique from other high school drama. and of course, it wasn’t just about actions, we would also learn from here the importance of being surrounded with good people, being in a right circle of friends, being able to take a break from academic stresses, and knowing our true selves. 

3. Under the Queen’s Umbrella -  i'm happy that there were no cliff-hangers! the ending was heartwarming and tear-jerking at the same time (for some reason). It did not only give us brilliant actors and amazing storyline, but it has also courageously reminded us that such problems exist: prejudice, nepotism, jockeying, among others. the queen did not only protect her sons  but she also brings out the best in them. i'm definitely going to miss your smile, your run, and your umbrella, eomma mama! FACT: KIM HYE SOO'S ACTING IS UNMATCHED!

2. My Liberation Notes - perhaps some would not agree that it is one of the gems of 2022...?? this was a slice of life k-drama that depicts the daily lives of the three siblings. every scene was relatable and realistic that it would make you feel like you’re a part of it just by watching it. does that make sense? their story made me realize the importance of being honest to ourselves, that it’s okay to ask for help, and that having five minutes of peace a day can make life bearable.  

1. Alchemy of Souls -  to say that i am grateful for this k-drama is an understatement. i promise...the casts? the storyline? the cinematography? the acting? perfect! that is why everyone is engrossed in it! i wouldn’t even bother to continue the part two if i didn’t like the part one! i promise, this is worthy of a chef’s kiss. :))

to more k-dramas this 2023!! happy new year, everyone!

[abbatoirablaze]

The Understudies, Season 1, Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  angst, mentions of death, secret child, mentions of violence, aggression, cursing

Briana’s POV

“M-mom….mom…wake up…” my almost twelve year old prodded.  I wrapped my arms around my son, pulling him onto the bed, which normally would have had him breaking out in a fit of laughter.  When I didn’t hear his melodic tone, I became confused, and my eyes opened.  He was biting his bottom lip and he looked like he was going to cry.  My heart raced as I went on high alert, “baby, what’s wrong?  What happened?”

“I-I didn’t want to wake you up…but Aunt Dot is here…sh-she said that something happened to grandpa.”

I shot up, my eyes instantly going to the door of my bedroom, where one of my sisters stood, a firm frown on her face. 

“D-dot…what are you doing here?”

“Dad’s dead…”

My breath caught in my chest, “wh-what?”

She took a few steps into my bedroom, and pulled the remote from my nightstand, pushing the dirtied scrubs to the floor.  The TV clicked on, and I was met with a breaking news bulletin.

“Eccentric billionaire, and head of the Umbrella Academy, Reginald Hargreeves was found dead in his estate this evening, by one of his staff members…” the report began; a picture of dad flashing across the screen before going to various montages of the Academy, “he’s most known as the father of fifteen adopted children, most of which have super-hero abilities.  The appearance of the Umbrella Academy was first noted in 2000, when the children were just eleven years old and had stopped a hostile takeover in France.” 

“Mom?”

I looked to Dot, “wh-when did you find out?”

“Just a few hours ago,” she admitted, “I came to find you first…have you seen Dani yet?”

“Obviously not,” I growled, “the last time I saw her was…”

We both stopped talking as I looked at my son.  He’d had a frown on his face.  He knew that I had stopped talking to Dani when she emancipated herself and kissed Diego…just like he knew that his father was another of my adopted siblings, Ben. 

He’d even managed to inherit his powers, something I’d kept a secret from my father, in order to protect him.  He knew that I had a son, but not of his powers. 

“We have to go to the house…”

I bit my lip, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dot…”

“It’s not an idea, Bri…”

“But-“

“Mom…I-I think we should go…” Benji said sadly, “I-I want to say goodbye to grandpa.”

“Benji…everyone will be there…”

“Good,” he said firmly, standing in a proud pose, “I want them to know that I exist…I-I don’t want them thinking that my dad’s legacy died with him.  Mom…y-you’ve always told me stories about the Umbrella Academy when I was younger…how much dad believed in the group…how much he-“

“Benjamin Michael Hargreeves…”

Benji cut himself off and just stared at me.  I felt my heart breaking as I looked at him.  He was a carbon-copy of Ben at that age.  I watched the tears stream down his cheeks as he tried to hold it back. 

“Benji…please don’t c-“

“We need to go, mom…”

I sighed, knowing that he was right. 

The siblings sat around, all trying to find something to say.  Luthor hadn’t been back from the moon for even eight hours and already he’d managed to inspect nearly every inch of the house.  There was something amiss, and he didn’t like it.  It felt too off. 

Diego was glaring at his brother, angry over how he tried to take the lead.  Luthor had always tried to take the lead, sure, but this was especially irksome.  While he’d been off in space, playing astronaut, Diego was burdened with playing vigilante, while none of his other siblings seemed to care.  Allison got to go to Hollywood.  Klaus was in and out of rehab.  Five was gone.  Six was dead.  Seven wrote a tell-all book, which made the siblings seem like they were against her…which had really hurt his feelings, because he’d always tried to be nice to her.  And the rest had either disappeared or stayed with the team long enough to die on a mission, because they hadn’t been trained nearly as well as the original six.

Vanya and Allison were just staring at the two.  One and two had always been competitive, but even in the turn of their father’s passing, it somehow felt like a competition.  They were too unsure of making a move, afraid that it would set the two hotheads off, and nothing would be accomplished. 

But it was Klaus that broke the silence, “so…now that dear old dad is gone…what’s the game plan?”

Luthor frowned at the lack of decorum from his brother, while number four busied himself with pouring a drink and lighting up a cigar. 

“I guess I should just get this started then…since none of the other siblings are going to show up…”

“Did you really expect them to, Luthor?” Diego spat, “you and dad got most of them killed…and whoever was left scattered like cockroaches to avoid being next on the chopping block.”

“The triplets left because you couldn’t keep it in your pants,” Vanya grumbled, glaring at number two, “eight, fourteen, and fifteen are still out there and they’re powerful.  But ten and eleven disappeared off the map entirely, for fear that dad would come for them next.  Last I’d heard, which was a few years ago, they were back in Brazil where they were born, but they moved every time dad found out where they were, so they could be anywhere by now.  And thirteen is nearly useless…last I heard she was still trying to ride Allison’s coat tails.”

Allison frowned, “Don’t say she’s riding my coattails.  She’s doing porn, Vanya…I’m an actress.  She’s not.”

“Soooo, I figured that we’d have sort of a memorial service in the courtyard at sundown,” Luthor said quickly, breaking the awkward tension between his siblings, “you know…uh, say a few words, just at dad’s favorite spot…”

Allison’s attention went towards Luthor, “he had a favorite spot?”

“Yeah,” Luthor said in a confused tone as he looked at his siblings, “it was at the oak tree.  We used to sit out there all the time and read.  None of you ever did that?”

“It was probably with you and Bri,” Diego growled as he rolled his eyes, “you two were always his favorites.”

Luthor frowned, “she was your girlfriend…why are you so angry at-“

“Probably because he cheated on her, so she had sex with Klaus then started seeing Ben.”

“Wait, what?” Luthor’s brows furrowed at the admission from Vanya.  He looked between Klaus and Diego, “What happened?”

Klaus chuckled, “you really don’t keep up on the times, do you, Luthor?  It happened ages ago.  Diego was seeing Bri-“

“I thought Danielle was seeing Ben after she left.”

“They were…but Dani got Bri kicked out of their little band that they’d sneak off and do shows for and then made out with big bro here on stage…”

Allison gasped, “you did what?”

“That’s why she was quick to break up with him, and then word got back to a little birdy that Invisi-girl is way more powerful than she let any of us know.”

“What are you talking about?” Luthor asked.

“Well, when we hooked up, Diego walked in on us,” Klaus admitted, “she slowed down time.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” Luthor asked with wild eyes as he looked at Diego, “if she was more powerful she could have been helping the team out wh-“

“Is that all you ever think about?” Diego growled, glaring at Luthor, “helping out the team?  Because you sure were quick to leave so you could play astronaut in outer space.”

“Dad said that there was a mission there!”

“Just a quick interruption and then we can get back to our regularly scheduled programming of arguing which of you loves fighting crime more,” Klaus grinned, interrupting his brothers as he took a drag of the cigar and began walking to the area that they were seated at, “dad’s ‘memorial’ will there be refreshments?  Tea?  Scones?  Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner with me!”

“What?” Luthor asked, his brows furrowing again as he turned towards Klaus, who had successfully changed the topic, “NO!  And put that out.  You know dad didn’t allow smoking in here!”

“Is that my skirt?”

“What?” Klaus asked.  He smiled, doing a little half-twirl as Allison’s question processed, “Oh yeah.  I found it in your room.  It’s a bit dated, I know, but it’s very breathy on the bits…”

“I see things are breaking down the way they always did,” A voice said smugly from the doors.  The siblings instantly went on the defensive until they saw number eight standing in the entryway with her arms crossed, “I see the others didn’t show…”

“What are you doing here?” Allison asked angrily.

“Just making sure the old prick is dead,” she smirked.  Then she looked at number two and gave a snarky wave, “hey Diego…it’s been a while.”

“Danielle.”

“Hey!” Luthor snapped, looking around the room, “listen up everyone.  There are still a lot of important things that we need to discuss.”

“Like what, Luthor?”

“Like the way that dad died.”

Diego rolled his eyes, “and here we go.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Vanya replied, looking around the room, “I thought that he died of a heart attack.”

“According to the coroner,” Dani smirked, pushing away from the door, “but we all know how skeptical number one is.”

“Well wouldn’t the coroner know?”

“Theoretically,” he argued, shooting a glare to Dani, “why are you even here?  No one invited you.”

“He was my father too, you ape.”

“I’m just saying that at the very least something happened,” Luthor said quickly, breaking away from looking at Dani, “the last time that I talked to dad he seemed strange.”

“Quelle?” Klaus said sarcastically, taking another drink, “c’est surprised!”

“Cut it out, Klaus…you’re not that elegant…and you don’t know any other French beyond being sarcastic,” Dani spat, glaring at number four, “what do you mean, strange, Luthor?”

Luthor huffed, half upset that the only one that seemed to be taking it seriously was Dani, the only sibling he truly disliked more than Diego.

“He sounded on edge,” Luthor admitted with a sigh, “He told me that I should be careful with who I trust.”

“Luthor he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles,” Diego answered, rolling his eyes.  Then he looked at Dani, “you playing into this, isn’t helping, Dani.  You’re just showing up to stir the pot and then leave...”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he growled, crossing his own arms over his chest, “it’s what you’re good at.  Breaking up relationships.”

“No…stop this!” Luthor responded, shooting more daggers between Dani and Diego, “look.  He must have known that something was going to happen.  Klaus…”

“Oh no…”

“Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad!”

Klaus scoffed, “I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and ask him to take a collect call, Luthor.”

“Klaus.”

“I can’t just stop him from playing tennis with Hitler and ask if he has a second for that kind of call, Luthor.”

“Since when?” Luthor scoffed in response, “that’s your thing!”

Klaus sighed this time, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not…I’m not in the right frame of mind.”

Allison rolled her eyes, “you’re high, aren’t you?”

“Yeah!” Klaus agreed, “YEAH!  How are you not, just listening to this nonsense?” 

“Well sober up,” Luthor growled, glaring at Klaus once more, “this is important.”

“Yeah…okay.”

“And then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?” Diego spat.

“Exactly,” Luthor proclaimed, “It’s worthless!  Soo whoever took it, this was personal.  Someone who knew him.  Someone with a grudge.”

“Not everything has to be an investigation, Luthor!” Dani said, rolling her eyes.

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asked.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious Klaus?” Diego asked, staring at his sibling as though he were waiting for him to get it.  When he didn’t, he sighed, “he thinks one of us killed dad.”

Klaus looked at Luthor, and when he didn’t say anything to defend himself, he gasped, “oh god.  You do.  You think one of us killed the old man.”

“How could you think that?”

“Great job, Luthor,” Diego chuckled sarcastically as he got up to leave the room.  He pushed past his siblings, “way to lead.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Diego!”

“You’re crazy man,” Klaus agreed, shaking his head as he began to follow Diego out of the room, “crazy!”

“Hey…I’m not finished.”

“Sorry,” Klaus shrugged, “I’m just going to go murder mom.  Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

“That’s not what I was saying!” Luthor began, trying to defend himself as Allison and Vanya also left the room.  He frowned, being left with Dani.

“Well, that went well.”

Luthor glared at number eight, “I didn’t ask for your input.”

“Look at that, big bad Luthor left all alone…accusing his siblings of wrongdoing…” Dani smirked, “didn’t the last time you did something like this cause your current predicament.”

“Walk…Away…”

“See you at sundown, big bro,” she grinned, leaving the room, “can’t wait for dad’s memorial service…”

“W-what is that going to do?” Allison asked, glaring at Klaus as the siblings looked at the anomaly in their courtyard. 

Klaus shrugged, staring at the whitish glow where the fire extinguisher he’d tossed had disappeared into, “I don’t know.  Do you have a better idea?”

“What are you guys doing?” Luthor asked, pulling Allison behind him, “get behind me.”

“Yeah!” Diego agreed, pulling Klaus behind him, while Vanya hid in the second row with Allison and Klaus while Dani, Diego, and Luthor held the front line, “get behind us.”

“I vote for running!” Klaus said quickly, hoping that his siblings would take him up on the offer, “c’mon.  Let’s get the hell out of here.”

But before another argument could occur, the anomaly spat out someone that was all too familiar to the siblings, before disappearing. 

“Holy shit!” Klaus gasped, stepping from the cover of three of his siblings, “does anyone else see little number five, or is it just me?”

The young teenager brushed himself off before staring at his siblings, instantly knowing that he didn’t go back far enough, “shit…”

“M-maybe we should take this inside!” Luthor offered.  The siblings nodded, for once, not disagreeing with each other. 

Five was first to push past, eager to get something to eat.  He went down to the kitchen, using his powers to push himself there.  By the time the siblings had gathered at the other end of the table, he’d pulled out a cutting board, knife, bread, peanut butter, and marshmallow fluff.  Vanya felt herself unable to contain the small smile, as there would finally be her brother’s favorite sandwich being made and eaten in the house once again. 

“So, what’s the date?” he asked, unable to stand the silence as he made his food, “the exact date?”

“The 24th…”

“Of what?”

“March!” Vanya said simply. 

Five nodded, “good.”

“So…are we going to talk about what just happened?” Luthor asked, “it’s been seventeen years!”

“It’s been a lot longer than that.”

He teleported behind his sibling to grab something from the top of the fridge and Luthor frowned to himself, “I haven’t missed that.”

“Where did you go anyways?” Diego asked.

“The future,” Five answered, rolling his eyes, “it’s shit by the way.”

Klaus smiled, “Called it.”

“I should have listened to the old man,” Five mused, “jumping through space is one thing, but jumping through time is a toss of the dice…nice dress, Klaus.”

“Oh…danke.”

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended bit of quantum space that exists across every possible instance of me.”

Diego’s face screwed up, “that makes no sense.”

“Well, it would if you were smarter.”

He went to lurch at the younger looking version of his sibling, but Luthor stopped him, “How long were you there?”

“Forty-five years, give or take.”

“So, what you’re saying, is that you’re 58?”

Five huffed, knowing there was only one person who would truly understand, “no…my consciousness is 58.  Apparently, my body is now 13 again.”

“Wait?” Vanya asked, “how does that even work?”

“Delores kept saying that the equations were off,” he chuckled, “eh…Bet she’s laughing now…where is she anyways?  Where is everyone else?”

“Delores?” Vanya asked. 

“Yeah.  Dot?  Last I saw she and Bri were combining their powers…she-“

Allison frowned, and Five stopped speaking, sensing something happened.

“What happened to Dot?”

“She lived that day,” Allison answered, knowing that’s where five’s mind went, “she’s been in and out of rehabs…and I told Bri not to help her try to find you anymore.”

Five’s jaw clenched, “you’re the reason I never saw her again?

“Wait, you knew five was alive?” Luthor asked, glaring at Allison.

“It was Dot,” Allison sighed, “she and Bri were visiting me, and she started OD’ing in my bathroom.  I thought she was about to die and just seeing things…”

“She found me, Allison…she was there for a moment when her astral projection was fading.”

“She was dying, Five,” Allison growled, “It took four shots of Narcan to get her to come out of it.”

His jaw ticked and he picked up the paper, “she’s not here now though?”

“I am…actually.”

Five turned towards the exit behind his siblings, his heart in his stomach as he recognized the voice. 

“Dot…” he whispered, seeing her standing there.  His siblings turned as well, all of them surprised to see the second of the triplets. 

And Vanya felt the slightest bit of jealousy as they ran to one another and embraced each other.

Diego moved out of the way, just as Luthor went to superman punch him.  But instead, he met the hard metal of Ben’s statue.  It knocked off of its platform, falling to the ground.  Its head snapped off. 

Bri’s eyes went wide as no one seemed to notice her, and she shielded her son’s face from the fighting going on.

“There goes Ben’s stat-“ but she cut herself off when she saw Bri standing in the entrance of the courtyard, holding a boy that looked identical to Ben against herself, “oh shit.”

But the fight waged on with the rest of the siblings.  Diego pulled out his knives, eager to fight.  Vanya’s eyes widened, “DIEGO, NO!”

He threw them, and one grazed Luthor, showing the world his primate form.  Embarrassed, he rushed to leave, but stopped next to Allison when he noticed Bri.

“You never know when to stop, do you?” Vanya spat, glaring at Diego.

“You got enough material for your sequel yet?”

“He was my father too!”

The two turned to leave as well, but just like their other siblings, they stopped when they spotted the final triplet.  Klaus looked up from his cigarette, and it nearly fell out of his mouth.

“I did not see that coming.”

The apparition beside him faded, and Klaus knew it was an instantaneous reaction, something that he would deal with later.

“I told you it wasn’t okay…” Dot said quickly, looking at her sister.  Dani glared at Bri and the little boy.

“I-is that what I think it is?”

“I’m not a what!” the boy said firmly, pushing away from his mother’s side.  He held her hand, but he looked at his aunts and uncles before his attention turned towards Luthor.  The leader of the team’s breath caught in his throat as he felt like he was in some sort of déjà vu.

“Y-you look just like…”

“You destroyed my dad’s statue…” the boy replied softly, glaring at him. 

“I-I didn’t mean to…I-“

“Mom…you were right,” the little boy muttered, leaning into her side once more, “we shouldn’t have come.”

Diego gave a heavy sigh, staring at the monocle that he’d taken from the house.  His heart ached as he looked at it, and all he could think about was earlier. 

Briana had a secret child with Ben. 

He felt sick to his stomach. 

It all made sense. 

How she disappeared, but Reginald was insistent that she was okay and just ‘in college’.  How he was sure that the Umbrella Academy would ‘live on’ even when the team was failing.  He’d always shielded her and made it so that he could never find her.  Years of research left him empty-handed. 

But there she had been. 

Raising Ben’s child, the whole time.

He looked back at the car, seeing Klaus talking to himself. 

“DIEGO, COME ON!” Klaus called after a moment. 

Diego dropped the monocle into the water, feeling angry that Reginald had not only kept her secret, but in a way, he’d also felt that he was responsible for his failed relationship.  Part of him wondered if he hadn’t have fucked up, if the child would be his.  If they would have had a family together.

With a heavy heart, he went back to the car.  Klaus was talking about breakfast foods, but all he could think about was her. 

The little boy. 

“She called him Benji,” Ben spoke, looking at Klaus after a second, “H-he looked just like I did when I was little.”

“Well obviously,” Klaus chuckled, “clearly it’s your kid.”

“What are you talking about, Klaus?” Diego asked, adjusting the rearview mirror so his eyes met with his brother.

“What Me?” Klaus asked.  Diego narrowed his eyes and shook his head, “nothing…nothing.  Breakfast.  I was thinking about breakfast.”

But he was looking across the seat to the sibling who was dressed in all black.  The spirit of his deceased brother.  Ben looked at him.

“We have to protect her, Klaus…we have to make sure Diego and Dani don’t get near her…I-I can’t let anyone hurt her.  We can’t let anyone hurt them.”

“Waffles first,” Klaus said, hoping that would end the conversation, “waffles and then planning.”

Chapter 2

[taiblogcomics]

Just Follow Your Knows

Hey there, high-impact dentistry. Narrowing down our pony backlog! We'll be back into much worse comics before April is out, don't you worry. Or maybe do worry! I might worry~

Here's the cover:

Now this is a properly gradiose cover for the kinds of things you might expect from this sort of story. Like, I would probably pick this one for the trade collection. Properly dramatic. Like, it's just really good, I dunno what else to say about it. But Sunny, of course you will always be in Twilight Sparkle's shadow. That's just kind of inevitable by nature of a franchise, especially following a beloved entry like Friendship is Magic.

So we open with Sunny screaming about how it's been going on too long and she can't take it anymore. Ah, I see she's been reading Avengers Arena in her off-time too. Actually, though, she's been monitoring a huge security station of TV screens. There's that technology leap that I don't care for again. At least she's not doing it alone, the whole of the Mane 5 are there observing. Despite complaints, it's actually Pipp who spots the odd one out first. Makes sense, she's the one who spends the most time in front of screens anyway.

Essentially somepony's done the "hold up a photograph to the camera" bit, except it's a crude drawing. How did it take them five minutes to notice between them five of them? Either way, it's the same cave they saw reflected in the Mirror of Mayhem's remains. Izzy also identifies the artstyle as Reginald the possum's, so the cave is definitely being occupied at the moment. I dunno why they were watching any other location, honestly. Without a moment to lose, our five heroes go taking off back to the ruins of Canterlot.

The lot of them do a sneaky, and they witness the aforementioned Reginald packing a suitcase for Discord. They manage to avoid being spotted, and follow the poss out of the castle. Pipp opts to livestream the stealth mission, and Izzy questions the sense of this. Pipp replies that it's fine, Reginald doesn't follow her on social media. Izzy is just concerned about filming somepony without their permission. Yes, this is all a real conversation in this comic. Long story short, their conversation alerts Reginald to their presence, and he runs off. Great job, everypony.

And before you think they can just watch Pipp's livestream back to see where Reginald went, Pipp was actually filming Izzy. You always follow where the drama goes strongest! But they do notice that they can't actually hear Izzy's dialogue, it's being drowned out by the river nearby. Stream pre-empted by stream, who could've seen that coming? But if the stream's been drowning out the dialogue the whole two hours they've been following Reginald, then he must be following the river. It's a lead, at least, but Pipp's gonna be mad this river gets followers she doesn't~

Izzy hangs back a moment, and Sunny notes that she seems a little bothered by a comment Discord made about being left behind. But of course Sunny didn't mean to, if Izzy had wings, she'd naturally invite her along! This doesn't seem to alleviate Izzy's worries. But before that can go any deeper, they finish following the river to its destination: Fluttershy's old house, now overgrown with foliage. They recognise this must be the animal sanctuary Discord mentioned--and they're not alone. There's also a guardian on the premises: a very angry squirrel.

Fortunately, this is well within Hitch's wheelhouse. He asks what's got the squirrel so hot and bothered, and it confesses that all its friends hid all his acorns, and he's been looking for them for hours. Izzy says this doesn't sound like very good friends, and decides to help out. Her unicorn magic is still fritzing a bit, but she manages to use it to shake the nearby trees and rain the acorns down. But Izzy's not stupid, and before she'll permit the squirrel any of them, she wants some information about Discord. Good for her!

The squirrel leads them inside the house, pointing out a secret basement underneath it. Discord sure loves his underground lairs, huh? Deep in this basement, there's a magical stone. And it contains a magical recording of Fluttershy. Izzy's magic unlocked it, and she remembers a legend her mother once told her of magic crystals in Bridlewood that could record messages. This particular message isn't directed at who you might think. It's not a message she's left for future generations. She's directing it at Discord. And thus, a flashback starts up.

The flashback is even sepia-toned, so you know it takes place in the past. This is shortly after that other flashback, wherein Fluttershy lost all the fillies who were learning from her due to racism. Discord's preventing her from going to talk to one of the fillies, Water Lily, unable to accept that anypony might listen to reason. If they were willing to do that, they would have to begin with. Fluttershy says that folks are just frightened right now, and it's important to remember that if magic is separating them-- Discord retorts that it can also destroy them, disappearing. Fluttershy instead sadly finishes that she meant it can also bring them together.

The flashback finishes with her locating this magic stone and recording her actual message: Magic does make everypony different, and those differences should be celebrated. If Discord listens to his heart, she's sure it'll show him right. They still don't have any leads, though. And while Sunny declares nothing will slip by them, the squirrel sneaks in behind them and pulls a particular book off the shelf: Daring Do and the Curse of the Basaltic Caves. And it carries it all the way to wherever Discord's hiding, who's delighted. This book is a vital piece of his plan to destroy all magic...

Well, if you were disappointed by the filler stuff that should’ve been the characters focusing on the mystery, here’s one focused entirely on that. Honestly, you could probably jump from issue 2 to this one without missing much. I do appreciate the spacing out of the plot arc, but not when you hinge it on being under a time crunch. Aside from that, though, I will consider this a pretty good issue. And you can at least excuse the previous issues of Discord not immediately kicking off his plans because he didn’t have this particular MacGuffin book.

Next issue: more filler and Discord not kicking off his plans~

[tteokdoroki]

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

[fairyaali]

hello love! Can I please request a somewhat spicy sub!chat noir x reader? Maybe where the reader is kinda feeling him up and leaving him hickeys and he’s a purring and moaning mess? Maybe he’s begging her to keep going and who is she to say no to such a sweet baby kitty? If that’s not too much of course😌 tysm

Hello bb ! I hope that this satisfied your sub! Chat needs hehe (i know it satisfied mine so) I really love how this came out and maybe i’m willing on continuing another part from here) Thank you so much for this request ! <3

Pairing: Chat Noir X Reader

Warnings: NSFW, characters are aged up in college here :), swearing.

Tags: Sub!chat, Dry humping, begging.

This is how it all went down. He saved you from an akumatized villain. He flirted. You flirted back. Then you guys started hooking up.

You didn’t understand why Chat Noir would do this with a civilian but like every other person on this planet, he has his needs. He would knock in a pattern on your window so you knew it was him and you would let him in, you’d talk for a bit, ask each other about your day until one of you breaks and pushes the other on the bed or against the wall. He was good in bed. Very good. You knew you’d never grow tired of this affair. To top it all off after you both finished you’d sit in bed and talk about all sorts of things. Aliens, Conspiracy theories about the media, gossip about people and sometimes he’d even play Mario Kart with you.

There were no strings attached. You both made it clear from day one. There couldn’t be. You both didn’t have the time for a relationship, you both didn’t have the energy for one so you simply stuck to the title ‘fuck buddies’ until one of you decides to back out. This night was different though. A smile didn’t appear on your face when you hear the familiar knock on your window because you were stuck cussing at your computer screen and rubbing your head in frustration. You had an essay to explain Shakespeare and his works but for some reason you kept deleting all that you’ve typed because you couldn’t put your thoughts into words.

He knocked again, quickly this time. “I know you’re there, beautiful.” His voice was muffled through the glass.

You huffed and put your laptop on the bed before stomping to the window. You opened it and were met by the hero grinning at you. You, on the other hand, didn’t have a pleased look on your face.

“I’m not in the mood Chat.” You state and were about to close the window again but he held it to stop you from closing it.

“Ma Belle, did I do something wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face.

You shake your head. “No, I just have this stupid essay that I’ve been trying to type out for the past four hours.” You sigh and make your way back to your bed, rubbing your temples.

He follows you inside and closes the window behind him.

“Maybe I can ease your stress for a little bit.” He says, a smirk on his face.

You simply shoot him a glare and he chuckles nervously, putting his hands up in defense.

“Okay. No sex. Got it.” He sits beside you and looks at what you’re typing.

“You know you can leave right? If you’re horny you can go to your other side bitches.” You say as you type away, your eyes glued onto your screen.

Chat purses his lips, like he held himself back from saying something and shook his head.

“Maybe I came here for some company.” He says.

You snort and chuckle. “Yeah right.” You say sarcastically and look at him, but he wasn’t smiling. You gulp and your smile fades away. Did he seriously come over because he feels lonely?

His face was leaning closer to your and you were leaning closer too. No. You had to finish this stupid essay.

“Stop distracting me kitty.” You whisper and kiss his nose quickly before looking back at the screen.

He groans and falls back on the bed, playing with the pillow.

“I can help you if you’re writing about Shakespear, I wro-“ He stops himself from talking and you turn around, quirking your eyebrow at him.

“You wrote an essay like this?” you questioned.

He visibly gulps and shakes his head.

“Do you go to college?” You question further.

He chuckles nervously. “You know I can’t tell you that mon ange.”

You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your screen. You decided not to pry further, he seemed uncomfortable talking about his personal life and you decided to respect his wishes.

Your phone started to ring and you see that it’s your friend from college Marinette. You pick it up.

“Hey Mari.” You say as you type.

“The deadline has been changed to next week!” She exclaims happily.

You were filled with rage.

“what?” You deadpanned.

“Yeah apparently some students asked to change it because they were having difficulties so he changed it to next week instead of tomorrow morning.”

“I literally asked him to extend the deadline three days ago and he refused. I swear to god I want to kill this son of a bitch” You groan and clutch your fist in anger.

She sighs, “I know girl, but hey at least you’ve got more time on your hands!”

Marinette always tried to be positive when she could and you appreciated that but honestly you needed to vent. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know Mari.”

“No problem! Bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit.” You sigh out before you end the call.

You groan out in frustration and shut your laptop.

“What happened?” Chat asks.

You get out of your bed and start to pace around.

“I have been working on this essay for the past four days, knowing very well how stupid it was that the deadline was only five days for a two thousand word essay on fucking Shakespeare and when I ask to extend the deadline, the son of a bitch replies with an angry email saying theres enough time and that im just lazy.” You finally breathe and chat was about to say something but you cut him off.

“But when his privileged French pupil ask him to extend the deadline of course he agrees and you know what, I think it was Adrien fucking Agreste who asked him because hes the fucking pretty model boy who has everybody on their knees for him just because of his high status.” You sit down and without realising you start talking about a different subject.

“Yeah, I get it, everybody wants to fuck the pretty blond guy with money, I would too but at least I don’t look like a thirsty bitch every time he talks to me, some girls in my damn college have literally no chill and I swear to god one day I want to make him my bitch, make him weak for me to show those bitches what i’m capable of.” You were breathing heavily at this point and your face was flushed red.

You always thought Adrien was attractive, everyone did but whenever he talked to you, you responded normally to him unlike other people who constantly laughed at everything he said to try and get in his pants. He was a good guy but he was too well known for his own good and it made you uninterested in him. You thought he was out of your league, that’s what those french bitches told you at least. They belittled you just because you’re foreign - you knew they were just jealous that Adrien was always the one to come up to talk to you unlike them.

That was enough ranting for now. You look at Chat who was staring at you wide eyed, his cheeks glowing red.

“You don’t need to say anything, it’s just-“ You look down at his body and notice something. “Chat..why are you hard?”

He crosses his legs over the other awkwardly to try and hide it. “W-What are you talking about?”

You stand up and walk over to him and he walks back until he’s pressed against the wall.

“What? You get hard thinking about me making someone weak?” You whisper to him and he looks away from you. “You want me to do the same to you kitty?” You kiss his ear and he shudders, nodding slowly. Your hand moves down from his chest to his belly and your lips move from his ear to his jaw. Chat tilts his head back and a frenzy of purrs emerge from his parted lips. He was aroused, in a state of euphoria even with your small, light touches. Your hand moved lower until it reached down to the tent he had in his suit. It was painfully tight for him. Your fingertips lightly brushed over the bulge and he cussed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered while you continued to touch his clothed erection and lick up his neck. He kept purring and moaning at the same time. You loved seeing him worked up like this. Your lips latched on to a certain spot on his neck and you sucked on it harshly, nibbling at it when you got the chance and putting more pressure with your hand against him.

He was a mess, grinding against your hand and breathing heavily.

“Ma Belle – merde,” he couldn’t even speak without stuttering. “I want more, please.” He begs and you look up at him, noticing the red mark on his neck and feeling very pleased with yourself.

“More what, kitty?” You whisper and remove your hand from where it was.

He groans in frustration.

“More – I-I want you to touch me more.” He pleads. “Please.”

You smirk at him and pull him to your bed, pushing him back on the bed and getting on his lap. Before he could react you put your lips on his and start to grind on top of him.

He moans against your lips and throws his head back, holding onto your hips for support. You could tell that he wanted to take his clothes off but you wanted him to come right then and there.

Your hips move against his, the friction pleasing you the same, causing you to moan but grin at the worked up blond beneath you.

“Shit, shit I’m close.” He whimpers and closes his eyes, moving his own hips with yours to get more pleasure.

It felt so good but you knew you couldn’t finish with him, maybe you could continue after but your hopes disappeared when you heard the beeping coming from his ring.

“Mon Ange I-“

“Shut up and come for me kitty.” You groan out and quicken your movements causing him to part his lips and hold onto you.

His body shakes and he spews out cuss words in French while he comes undone, thrusting his hips up and whimpering.

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other both dazed and tired. You were about to lean in for another kiss but his ring starts beeping furiously.

You hop off of his lap and watch as he groans while he gets up, uncomfortably moving because of the mess he made between his legs.

“I’m sorry I cant finish you off.” He says, pouting at you.

“It’s okay Chat, I think you’ve done enough today.” You wink at him and he chuckles bashfully.

“Until next time Mon ange!” He says and opens the window.

“Bye Kitty.” You blow him a kiss and with that he’s off.

Maybe you could actually finish yourself off to the thought of him being a mess for you but before you could even do anything, your phone beeps and you see a notification from Adrien Agreste.

 “Did you hear that they moved the deadline for the Shakespeare essay? Pissed me off tbh.”

It was like he knew you accused him of something and to top it all off this was the first time he’s ever really texted you. It was weird but maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Right?

[aithorin]

A Lesson in Possession - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: When you make the mistake of revealing that you find one of the top ten heroes attractive, Smite wastes no time in reminding you that you belong to him.

Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive behavior, Dominance, Vaginal fingering, Possessive sex, Unhealthy relationships, Degradation

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30772664

Very much NSFW!

All Might was ignoring you. Intentionally ignoring you. And you didn’t like it. Not one bit. For the last 20 minutes, you’d tried in vain to get him to finally sit down on the couch with you yet to no avail. He just continued to rustle around in the kitchen, seeming to clang together every goddamn pan in existence while looking for who knows what. At any rate, it was clear your attempts weren’t working at all.

Letting out a huff, you turned away from the kitchen to face the television. Raising the volume to drown out all the fucking noise he was making, the newsreporter babbled on about a battle that had happened earlier in the day. The fight in question was between none other than All Might and a horde of the top heroes. But what else was new?

‘Boooooorrrrring’ You droned out in your head. Picking up the remote, you flicked to the next channel only to be met with the same regurgitated garbage from the last. Sitting up straight, a spark of irritation fired through you as you began cycling through all the channels, going through them faster with each disappointment.

“All Might-” Next

“Earlier today, Symbol of Discord, All Might-” Next

“Top hero Endeavor and All Might faced off-” Next

God, was there nothing else to fucking watch? Huffing in frustration, you hit mute before tossing the remote onto the cushion beside you. Crossing your arms, you settled further into the sofa as a small pout crept onto your face. Glaring at the TV, you gave it a scowl that rivaled All Might’s. However, as you kept your eyes trained on the now silent news report, your glower slowly faded into a wicked grin as an inkling of an idea began to take form. You knew exactly what to do. All Might wouldn’t be ignoring you for much longer.

Sitting up, you swung your legs up onto the couch and schooled your features into the epitome of relaxed and unbothered. Slinging one arm over the back, you kept your gaze glued to the TV and called out, “Your fight from today is all over the news.”

A particularly loud clang was all you got in response. That was okay. It was to be expected. On to phase two.

“They’re saying you destroyed half of Kamino Ward. And with five of the top heroes there too! That’s pretty impressive you managed to make it here without a scratch. I guess even the best have nothing on you.”

This time you got a clang followed by a grunt. Okay, so flattery was a no go. Time to change tactics. But no matter, you had saved the best for last.

“Although…” you began, dragging the word out, “While they may not be a match for you when it comes to power, I do have to say that some of them rival you quite well in the looks department. Personally, I think Hawks comes pretty damn close.”

Bringing a finger up, you tapped it against your lips. Amending your previous statement, you said, “Hmmm, wait. On second thought, I think he might actually be hotter than you. He is pretty attractive, you know.”

At your words, all clanging came to an abrupt halt. This time all that greeted you was deathly silence. Reveling in it, your smirk grew tenfold. Checkmate.  

Slow footsteps rumbled across the ground, sending tremors through the floors of your apartment. But you wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated. Keeping your eyes trailed on the screen, you refused to look at him, knowing it would anger him more. With the sole intention of pretending not to notice you had just pissed off the number one villain, you nonchalantly picked at invisible dirt in your nails.

Standing in the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, you could feel his glare burning holes into the back of your head, but you held steady to the charade.

“What,” All Might growled, “Did you just say?”

Giving a noncommittal hum and schooling your features, you threw a cursory glance at him over your shoulder before turning back to the TV, feigning disinterest. Once you were out of his line of sight though, you couldn’t help letting the devilish grin return. It was all going according to plan. He was absolutely pissed. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so angry before. Just a couple of words and his aura had darkened so much it cast a shadow over the whole room. With his eyes blazing and his lips curled back in a snarl, his fists were clenched at his sides, trembling ever so slightly in an attempt to keep his anger in check. At any rate, it was clear your comment had gotten his blood boiling.

“Hmmm, what was that?” you finally replied. Looking at the TV, you continued, “Oh, I was just saying that I think Hawks is way hotter than you. No offense.”

Letting out a snarl, he began to stalk towards you. “You’re playing a dangerous game doll. Are you trying to make me mad?”

“No,” you said, giving a small pout, “I’m trying to get your attention. You’ve been ignoring me the whole time you’ve been here!”

“Insolent girl!” All Might growled, “And you thought insulting me was the way to do it?”

“Well nothing else was working!” you said haughtily, crossing your arms, “Besides, from my view, it worked perfectly. You’re certainly not ignoring me now, which is all I wanted in the first place.” Letting the irritation slide off your back, you gave him a cheeky grin and waggled your eyebrows.

Yet your words seemed to have the opposite effect on All Might as his expression grew impossibly darker. Giving you a derisive smile, he sneered. “Fine,” He said, voice sinister yet full of promise, “Have it your way then.”

The change in the air was palpable. Grin fading from your face, you realized that with nothing more than a few words from him, you’d lost all control over the situation. The knowledge sent a wave of nervousness down your spine. There was no denying it. The tables had turned, and while you may have won the battle, you were most certainly about to lose the war. God, you should have just kept your mouth shut. Why did your impatience always land you in such deep shit? Would it really have been so bad to wait another 15 minutes?

You’d played with fire and now you were about to be burned. From the look of All Might’s heated gaze, it seemed you were in for a world of painful pleasure. He’d give you what you want alright, but the bastard would be sure to reduce you to a writhing, sobbing mess beforehand. Yet despite the fact that your head was screaming at you to get away, your body seemed to have other thoughts. To your horror, you realized that the idea of being so completely at his mercy was actually turning you on. Just thinking about it had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as a dull throb of need began to build in your abdomen.

In a flash, his looming form hovered over you, encasing you with his shadow, and the glow of his blazing blue eyes burned with a smug self-satisfaction at the sound of your breath hitching. Somehow, he’d gotten ahold of your arms, and they lay trapped in one of his hands held high above your head. His actions had caused your shirt to ride up ever so slightly, a fact which had not escaped All Might’s attention. Taking a moment to rake his eyes over your form, you could feel your body heat under his appreciative gaze, tendrils of want slithering through you.

Leaning over you, All Might trapped you with his body, your chests touching. His nearness created a warmth, and with it your heart began to beat ever so slightly faster. Tongue darting out to nervously lick your lips, you waited to see what he would do. With his free hand, All Might came up to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip, getting rid of the moisture you’d just laid there, before tilting your chin up and somehow getting impossibly closer. It was more than enough to unnerve you, and it was obvious he was doing it on purpose. The damn bastard knew you were helpless to resist when he was that close.

Bending down, he pressed his face toward your ear. “You want attention?” He snarled, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear and sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine, “I’ll give you attention.”

Pulling back, he made sure his eyes met yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget that bird brained freak even exists. But first, I’m gonna teach you a lesson, doll. Mark my words, you’re gonna regret opening that pretty little mouth of yours.”

And that was all the warning you got. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, demanding entrance. But the brat in you couldn’t help resisting. You met him full force, refusing to give him what he wanted, goading him. In response, he growled against your lips before biting down on your bottom one, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to surprise you. Releasing a tiny yelp at the shock, he seized the moment to push his way through. In an instant, he had his tongue tangled around yours. And there was nothing loving about the embrace. Rough and bruising, it was pure punishment and you were helpless to do anything about it.

As your need for air began to become overwhelming, All Might started to pull away, leaving a trail of saliva connected to your lips, thinning ever so slowly before finally splitting in half to land against your chin. Chest heaving and yearning to feel his lips against yours again, you sought his touch the only way you knew how.

By baiting him.

Sitting up ever so slightly by wiggling one arm out of his embrace, you propped yourself up on it and gave him a roguish grin. “Is that all you got, big guy?” You asked.

At the jab, he let out a growl. “I’m not anywhere close to done with you, girl.”

Leaning down, he grabbed hold of your T-shirt and tore it straight in half in one fell swoop before doing the exact same with your bra. Letting out a gasp, your exposed nipples began to harden in wake of the cold air, and All Might smirked as you rushed to cover yourself.

“Uh Uh Uh” He tutted, waggling his finger at you, “You know better than that.”

Slowly you began to lower your hand, and All Might let out an appreciative hum. “Good girl.” He purred.

Leaning down, he latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it between his teeth and giving it an experimental tug. Your body, desperate for the slightest touch now, responded immediately. Letting out a breathy moan, you arched into his touch, silently begging for more as the sensation sent jolts of pleasure dancing across your chest that headed straight to your core. Smirking in satisfaction, All Might chose to ignore your plea. Grabbing onto your hips, he began trailing his lips down to the waistline of your pants, leaving warm wet kisses with his tongue across your belly while his thumbs stroked the sides of your waist. Arriving at the top of your pants, he reached one hand over to flick them open before sliding them over the curve of your ass, taking your panties with them and leaving your glistening pussy fully exposed.

“Look at you. You’re positively drenched, and I’ve barely even touched you. What an eager little slut you are.” He said, dragging one long finger along your slit.

Gasping at his touch, you watched, entranced, as he pulled his finger away, your juices dripping off of it. Bending down, he held it up to your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded. Looking down at it, you hesitated just a moment too long, and his face twisted into a snarl.

“I’m not gonna ask you twice, girl. When I tell you to suck, you suck. ” He growled, squeezing your jaw open with one large hand wrapped around your cheeks and pushing his index finger into your mouth.

Tentatively you took the length of his finger into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the base of it. As the back of your tongue touched the pad of his fingertip, the warm, slightly salty taste of yourself met it. Swirling your tongue around the digit, you slowly began to bob up and down on it, thoroughly lubricating it with your saliva.

Letting out a satisfied smirk, All Might purred, “Good girl.” Shoving his finger back in as far back into your throat as he could, you gagged trying to catch your breath as he finally removed the digit, bringing your bottom lip down with it.

“That was for earlier.” He sneered, “Don’t disobey me again.”

And then, beginning from your mouth, he traced a path down your chin with his wet finger, going between the valley of your breasts and the soft curve of your belly. As the wet trail he made quickly dried, you shivered as the dampness met the cold air. Arriving at your pussy, he began to prod at your entrance, easily slipping the digit in.

You couldn’t stop from letting out an immediate moan at the stretch. From one finger, he had already managed to make you feel deliciously full. The mind numbing emptiness your body had been begging for him to satiate was finally being remedied.

Beginning to pump, All Might turned his attention toward your clit. As his fingers thrust inside you, his thumb began to rub slow circles over your clit, pulling all sorts of gasps out of you. Working you open, his pace began to quicken and before you knew it he was slipping a second finger in.

Dissolving into putty at his hands, you could feel your climax fast approaching.

Yes!” you moaned, “Just like that.” You were so close. With one more thrust, you’d be gone. You could feel his fingers pulling out, preparing to send you over the edge, when suddenly they were completely gone, leaving you painfully empty.

Choking from the force of being denied so suddenly, your eyes flashed open just in time to see him climbing off of you. Face sweaty and cheeks flushed, you were an absolute mess. Lost in a haze of need, you could barely even comprehend what was happening. All you could see was that damn smirk on his face.

Unbuckling his pants painfully slow, he seemed to revel in your agony. As he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants, a distinct clink floated through the air as his loose belt buckle hit the metal of his pant button. And then in one swift motion, he took his pants off, his cock springing free. Painfully hard and red, it seemed to almost pulsate. Following the line of one thick vein, you saw that the tip was already oozing pre-cum.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you waited for All Might to approach you once more, but he remained standing. In fact, he moved farther away from you, making you want to cry.

Stroking himself, he seemed to completely ignore you as he lifted his other hand to rest on his chin, a thoughtful expression came over his face. “You know, I’ve already been quite lenient with you. Maybe it’d be better to just take care of myself.”

At that you wanted to sob. Nothing in the world mattered more to you than having his cock balls deep inside you at the moment. “Please please don’t do that!” you said, wanting nothing more than to pull him close, but he was just out of reach, and by then, you were too out of it to do anything else but stretch a weak hand toward him.

“Ple-please touch me.” You whined, legs rubbing together, desperately trying to regain even the slightest amount of friction.

Letting out a snort, he taunted, “And give me one good reason why I should. You haven’t exactly been on your best behavior today. Need I remind you that this is supposed to be your punishment?”

“I-I know you want to though.” You said, breathless. Raising your head to look at him through hooded eyes, you purred, “It-It’ll be so good.”

Taking a few steps toward you, he looked down into your eyes. Face becoming almost pleasant, he questioned, “You want this? You want my cock?” As you watched him stroke himself, you eagerly nodded. You wanted nothing more.

In an instant, his face turned dark once more as he growled, “Then beg for it.”

At that, a look of confusion spread over your face. “Wh-What?” You questioned.

“You heard me. If you want my cock beg. for. it.” He said.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed in his face, but, well, being incredibly horny does make a difference. Swallowing your pride, you whispered, “Please. I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

And yet, true to the utter asshole that he was, All Might pretended not to hear you. “Hmmm. What was that?” He said, lifting a hand up to cup his ear, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I want your cock!” You shouted, looking up to glare at him, “I want you to fuck me.”

“No need to be so mean kitten,” He said, a mock pout coming over his face, “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Before you could even register that he’d moved, All Might was back over you again, one last self-satisfied smirk being the only warning you got before he buried his cock in you. Moaning from the sensation, tears sprung at your eyes from how far he was stretching you. God, he was so big, yet you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care because it felt so good.

Fully inside, he gave you the small mercy of allowing but a single moment for you to adjust. Before you knew it, he was pulling out only to thrust back into you again, setting an absolutely brutal pace. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from the force, you briefly registered him attaching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave teeth indentations.

Grabbing hold of his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access as breathy groans escaped your lips. Already you could feel the coil inside beginning to wind again.

“You filthy slut. You like this, don’t you? Me using you for the whore you are.” He said, wrapping a hand around your throat and grunting as he bucked into you.

“I’m the only one who’s ever gonna be able to fuck you this good. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. You got that. You’re mine.” He growled, reaching hand down to flick at your clit, never once slowing down.

Lost in pleasure, you barely even processed his words. That is until he leaned down to snarl in your ear, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours, All Might. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good.” you groaned.

Coming in close, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, before thrusting in once more, going so deep you were sent flying off the edge. Gasping, you saw stars in your eyes as white hot pleasure wracked its way down your spine sending tremors throughout your body. As you came, your pussy clenched around him, causing All Might to climax as well. Hot seed coated the insides of your walls as you both fought to recover. As your heavy pants gradually became more controlled, he slowly slid out of you.

With sweat coating his brow and his breathing ragged, All Might looked down at you, blue eyes blazing,  “Nobody makes you feel the way that I do. Nobody. And you’d do well to remember that, doll.”

Climbing off of you, he began to make his way down the hall, throwing your pitiful form still sprawled out on the couch one last glance.  “The next time you want to try something like what you just pulled, I’d suggest you remember our little lesson today.”

[shoutogepi]

Entertainment

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.3k

[ ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+!) ] angst, smut

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : Much to your chagrin, you realize you have feelings for your explosive coworker with benefits... (continuation of FYIJM/Orange Lambo)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : ahaha whaaa i bet you had thought this series was abandoned! well, surprise update. i realized the other day that i hadn’t updated this series in a year oops so... have this haha. for those of you who foresaw the angst... great job hehe. also please beware this is unedited... and for that i apologize~

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : once again, reader is meant to be a fellow pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou! so Y/H/N is meant to be read as “your hero name”.

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   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄳ark shadows stretch along the tiled floor of the office, cast by the bright moon hanging high and proud in the sky. The fumes from the bustling city are strong challengers to the magnificent orb of light, but they only succeed in swallowing the stars twinkling across the planes of the sky— for the moon beams through them and illuminates the tears glittering down your cheeks.

Bakugou’s hand is firm around your throat as he presses your form against the glass of the floor-length window, your nipples dragging along the chilled surface. You sob in pleasure as his hips dig into your ass, his cock plunging into you. As soon as your mouth opens, his palm slides to cup around your cheek, shoving two thick fingers between your teeth and pressing down against the back of your tongue as far as they can reach. His movements are rough and ravenous, and flush with desire.

Just how you like it.

And he knows it.

Your teeth clamp around the digits and Bakugou releases an angry moan, hooking the fingers around your teeth and throwing your head to the side. “Fuckin brat,” he snarls, his other arm tightening around your stomach to press your back snug against his sturdy chest. “You’re gonna pay for bein’ bad, slut.”

His hips begin to slap mercilessly into you, his hard cock smashing deep into your core, again and again. Your disobedience withers as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, body melting from his touch to curl into the curves of his instruction. Spine arching and feet sliding apart to welcome him even deeper inside, Bakugou grins at how easily you're broken, his hand leaving your waist to clap against your ass.

A moan decorates the glass with frosted white as you shuffle forward from the spank. Somehow his name tumbles from your lips in a winded cry, and his teeth sink into your neck as his growl vibrates across your heated skin. Your pussy clenches down on his thick length, and he moans even louder into your neck. His palm plants tiny explosions onto your ass as he slaps you another time, only prospering further as you clamp onto him again. “Fuck, you’re tight for a slut, y’know that?” He groans, tongue flicking along the fresh indents of his teeth on your throat.

“If anyone’s the slut here—“ you gasp as his fingers finally move out of your mouth to snag around your neck again. He squeezes the sides of your throat, daring you to finish your sentence. But you’ve already started your counter, and you aren’t backing down now. “— it’s you.”

Even if you had managed to snag a final breath as you finish talking, it’s stolen from you when a feral Bakugou roars behind you, ripping you from the glass and pivoting to shove you across the surface of his tidy desk. You whimper as his cock drags along your slick walls, his balls beginning to slap into your clit mercilessly and sending tingles through your skeleton. You swear and he laughs harshly, both hands gripping onto your hips as he hammers you into the desk. “I’m the slut?” He parrots, giving your non-reddened ass cheek a hard blow with his explosive palm. “When you’re the one who’s begging for me to fuck this sloppy little cunt? Look how wet you are,” he comments, a thumb trailing over your ass to touch the excess slick at the base of his cock. “Shit,” he grumbles as he moves the digit over your ass, dipping into your puckered hole easily with plethoric lubrication.

You whine at the stimulation, his thumb diving into you and rubbing inside. “Katsuki, a-ahh,” you gasp as his hips begin to pick up the pace again, an expletive falling from your lips after a moan.

“Y’like that, hah? See, you can’t even prove your case, Princess,” he chuckles, rolling his hips to grind against your sensitive walls. The action makes a purr of pleasure rumble from your throat, back bowing to offer your ass to him even further, meeting his circling hips. Your submission only spurs him on, his hands pushing your hips back into his in perfect synchronization. “Whose pussy is this?”

The question falls from his lips without thought, and his vermillion eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. Yet what horrifies him is that you don’t pause— you don’t even stray from your perfect speed to match his hips, not even a second out of line— you moan, and reply to him eagerly, “Yours, Katsuki— yours!”

And even though terror floods past the dam he’d so carefully constructed around his heart, his body crumbles at your answer, the spring in his stomach compressing as he nearly cums right there and then. He wants to choke out that he’s close, but somehow he croaks out a command instead. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock— fuck...”

In your haze of lust you don’t notice how soft his voice has become. You let yourself topple over the edge, pussy squeezing him tight as your orgasm washes over your body. It’s sinfully encaptivating; a tiny morsel of what you can only imagine heaven must feel like. Bliss crashes through you like heavy tides on a rocky sea wall, drenching you completely in sweet, refreshing euphoria.

Bakugou’s tempo is swift and hard, but he relents after a few seconds with the way you milk him like a vise. He gasps as he nearly cums inside you, pulling out at the very last second and painting your back white with his load. He groans as his fist jerks around his cock, head thrown back in ecstasy as he empties his balls onto the canvas of your moonlit skin.

It’s quiet, save for the cocktail of ragged breaths huffing from the pair of you— coming down from your highs and minds clearing of the lust that so easily had dominated you just moments ago. Bakugou falls back into his desk chair, free hand opening a drawer to grab a package of wet wipes. He snags a sheet from the container, hissing as the cool wipe slides along his aching cock. A second towelette glides down the expanse of your spine as he cleanses you of his release, and you hum as he drags the other side of the  cloth between your thighs with care.

Cautiously you crawl off his desk, legs twitching as tiny, lingering shocks from your orgasm zip along your limbs. As the lascivious fog begins to clear, the air in the room becoming still and laden with perspiration from your passionate session, your stomach begins to turn. Your brain begins to work again, your heart seizing in your chest as you watch Bakugou tug up his pants. No part of you wants to follow his actions, and yet your body moves on its own, fingertips dragging your leotard up your legs. It’s his office you’re in this time— and he clearly wants you to leave if he’s dressing this quickly.

Bakugou doesn’t say a word, red eyes flicking over your hurried figure. He frowns, though that’s not unusual for him, and swallows back the lump in his throat. Would you stay if he asked you to? The answer surely must be no, and he growls at the thought of fucking this up— whatever this is— by asking stupid questions. What you said was in the heat of the moment, prompted by him himself; certainly you were just desperate to cum, desperate for your high. And yet he can’t stop himself from calling out to you just as you’re about to slip around the corner of his office door.

Bakugou looks just as surprised as you when your name slips from his lips. You stand there in the middle of the doorway, frozen with your doe eyes glued to him expectantly. He doesn’t know what to do— what to say— but somehow he manages to speak. “Grab your stuff and meet me in the garage in five.”

He wants to slap himself. Did he really say that?

You’re stunned, frozen to the spot and blinking at him blankly. Your lips part to respond to him, and yet nothing comes out. All other words failing you, the only thing you can think to say is—

“Okay!”

You blurt out like a buffoon, turning on your heel and making your escape down the hallway, away from the intensity of his gaze. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you try with all your might to squash down the giddy butterflies bursting in your stomach. Logically, it would be sound to assume he’s just taking you to your apartment. It’s late, and the city is dark and filled with all kinds of characters— not like you’re a fellow pro-hero who can protect yourself of anything.

You try your hardest not to let your imagination wander as you’re packing away a few folders from the safety of your office, but you just can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks. Perhaps he’s taking you somewhere else? But then again, at this hour, the only other place he could really be taking you is… his place.

No. No way that could be possible. Just— no! You shake your head, smoothing down the skin-tight material of your hero suit before grabbing your bag, jacket thrown over your shoulder as you rush to the elevator.

Bakugou is already in the garage, leaning against his sleek, orange sports-car with something akin to a grimace marring his handsome face. At the sight of you exiting the elevator doors, he pushes himself upright, bulging biceps uncrossing as he makes his way toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. “You sure take your time, Princess,” he comments, vermillion eyes twinkling with snarkiness. “No wonder you’re always playing catch-up on the agency leaderboard.”

Just like that, he’s back to being Bakugou.

“Playing mean to cover up being decent for once?” You retort as you swing the passenger door open, slinging your bag onto the ground before your legs follow, ass meeting the expensive leather seat.

All he gives you is a classic tch, in true Bakugou fashion, before the engine roars to life. You give him your address before he can ask, and he responds with a grunt before he shifts the vehicle into drive. The noise echoes off the cement walls of the garage, and the car’s purring continues as it exits the building. The lacquer shines glossy in the moonlight— the very same moonlight that had kissed your lewd face just ten minutes ago as the man beside you had ravaged you. The recollection makes your eyes move away from the blonde, instead opting to focus on the very interesting interior of the door.

The drive is quick and void of sound, save for the howl of the wind pouring in from the cracked windows. There’s no music, and no conversation, but still, you can’t help the content blooming in your chest. This is the first time that Bakugou has offered to drive you home. Well, besides that one incident that happened a few weeks ago when he took you to that park and… took you for a ride, so to speak. And in this very vehicle. The memory makes your heart race, your teeth taking your bottom lip prisoner.

In no time, you’re pulling up in front of your apartment complex, and your breath hitches as the car comes to a stop. The air is heavy and full of tension, and you can’t help but steal a glance over at Bakugou. The blonde is sitting rigid in his seat, brow furrowed and frown evident on his lips. His hands are wound tight around the steering wheel, and it takes a moment for him to face you directly.

Before you can make a word— a sound, even— Bakugou’s hand cups your face. His touch is gentle, patient as he brings your face to his. When your lips meet, a whimper crawls from your throat. His mouth is warm, movements cautious as his lips brush against yours. The sweet, smoky, caramel-like smell of him twists around your senses, and you lean into his touch, enamored.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him...

And it’s over immediately.

Bakugou moves backwards, crimson eyes wide and watchful, wary of your every move. Your lips are still parted, and you blink at him as you take in his retreating face, dazed. There’s a pregnant pause as you take each other in, your fingers going to brush your lips in shock. His eyes trail over your lips before he looks at you again. Maybe you’re just imagining it, but there’s something in his gaze that looks a lot like longing.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

His deep voice rumbles in his throat, and goosebumps rise along your skin as his saccharine choice of words sinks in. Your brow furrows as you soak it in, lips parted but no sound coming out.

The look you give him is inquisitive.

But Bakugou only sees it as accusatory.

His demeanor hardens by the second— the brief softness that had just been exposed fleeting fast as his arms cross over his chest. “You gonna sit there all night, dumbass?” He hisses, beautiful red orbs turning into slits.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, reaching out to him. It’s the only thing that your body allows you to say, shellshocked at the vulnerability you’d just seen from him— a revelation as impressive as if you had discovered a new species.

Bakugou only glares at your outstretched fingers, jamming his finger into the side of the door to unlock your own. “Just get out,” he orders. And somehow seeing you flinch at his words, watching as the hurt flashes on your face for just a moment— it spurs him on. “I got someplace to be already.”

With a tight chest, you push your door open, grabbing your bag and casting one last, furtive glance at the explosive man. But his eyes are only on the steering wheel, so you sigh and pick up your jacket from the seat. “Goodnight, Boom-Boy,” you murmur as you retreat from the vehicle, allowing the door to shut.

Little do you know, his gaze follows you until your figure disappears through the heavy doors of the foyer, leaving him alone to the torments of his self-loathing and frustration.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Unsurprisingly, you don’t have a great night of sleep. You toss and turn in your sheets, rewinding and replaying every second of interaction in his outrageously-expensive car. Overthinking every word, every pause, every look. All he had wished you was an honest “goodnight”, so why did it feel like there was so much more?

This had been the first time you’d caught a glimpse of what lies beneath the hard, spiny exterior of the man, and yet, it had been but a speck of dust in the wind. You’d seen it for one second. One exhilarating, butterfly-inducing second, and then— it was gone. Vanished. By the time you’d gotten your bearings, it seemed like the man’s shell was even spikier— more abrasive than even his explosive locks, and far more capable of hurting you.

And perhaps you were a little hurt— you mean to say, you are. But that makes you question if you’re just picking up signals that he’s not even aware he’s sending. You’re second-guessing yourself in every sense at this point. All over one kiss, and one “goodnight”.

But it wasn’t just a “goodnight”. It was a “goodnight, princess”. As if that would make such a difference.

A part of you, probably the majority, to be honest, is being rational about this. The two of you haven’t really spoken much about your… relationship, if you even dare to call it that. One evening it had just sort of… happened, and since then, it’s been happening, without much pause. For months, this has been going on. And it was great, at first. The two of you were in exactly the same boat: pro hero, no time for a committed relationship— nor a want for a committed relationship, pent-up and needing some kind of release… and oh, there’s also that white-hot tension that pulls the two of you together every time you see each other. That intensity, that passion, rivalry, and desire— it’s no wonder the pair of you ended up in this seemingly-eternal rendezvous. It’s clear what you both want, what you need— it’s sex.

It’s just sex.

But of course, there’s this small part of you— well, maybe it’s larger than you’d like to admit— that hopes he feels something… more. That he could possibly want you, for more than your body. When you think about it like that, it sounds stupid, like you’re some lovesick preteen who fantasizes about the captain of the football team of something. Reality isn’t really that far though— instead, you’re a fool of an adult who fantasizes about snuggling with her sworn rival-slash-coworker.

Acknowledging it like that sounds rather pathetic, you know... yet you just don’t have the strength in you to squash that ember of hope burning bright in your heart. You don’t want to watch it extinguish, you don’t want to lose that— lose him.

Yet at the same time, you know you can’t keep doing this. Your despicable feelings for the hero only seem to be growing by the day, and you need to cut this thing off sooner rather than later if he’s not on the same page as you.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Somehow you find yourself at the door of his office, the bright sunlight of the early afternoon streaming in through the hallway windows and warming your skin. It’s shut, as usual, and it gives you the opportunity to take a deep breath before your fingers find courage to curl into a fist, and tap against the hardwood.

“Come in.” His tone is gruff and curt as always, and you quickly fix your hair before you turn the handle, slipping inside the room and letting the door shut with a quiet click.

Bakugou is sitting behind his desk, an open bento-box and a half-filled form on his tablet laying before his hulking frame. Slitted vermillion eyes land on you, quickly morphing into a curious, cautious gaze.

“Y/N,” he greets, a blonde brow rising to land higher than usual on the tan skin of his forehead. The mask of his hero suit sits limply in the corner of his desk, his handsome face on display for you to drink in.

Your eyes flicker all over him, gliding along his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of the firm muscles on his chest. You can’t help but check him out, knowing fully well what’s underneath that tight suit of his. Bakugou smirks at you, taking his time to inspect you just the same.

“I need to talk to you,” you say, the words spilling from you without much of a thought.

After a tense pause, the hero stands, capping his lunch and making his way around his desk to sit on the front of it. He motions for you to come to him, and your feet move instinctively forward, following his command as you’d done so many times before.

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you to him, and stands you between his legs. Even sitting perched on his desk, he’s still taller than you, and he leans his nose into your neck as his hands glide along your spine. “Yeah?” he purrs, fingers splaying to drag against your skin through your thin hero suit. “And what do we need to talk about, Princess?” His lips flutter on the flushed skin of your neck, taking the hem between his teeth and pulling it back to reveal the darkened evidence of your latest session. Seeing his mark on you excites him, and the heat from his palms bleeds through your suit into your skin.

You can’t help but lean into his caress. His sharp cologne mixes with the honeyed, sugary scent of his skin and envelops you whole, pulling you in like a riptide lurking beneath an innocuous wave. A fragment of a moan escapes you when his mouth lands on the skin at the base of your neck, sucking gently and laving his tongue along your flesh.

“S’a little early to be foolin’ around,” he admonishes teasingly, voice deep and like thunder in your ears, an omen of the approaching storm. But your body wants it— craves the heavy deluge and the fear of scorching lightning that might just strike along your skin. “You like the thought of gettin’ caught, hah?” Bakugou chuckles lowly, teeth grazing your jaw. “Dirty little girl…”

Your palms glide down his thick arms, lamely stiff as your mind is screaming at you to stop— that this isn’t what you came for. Yet his touch makes you woozy, your judgement clouded as you choke on a wanton moan. “N-No, Katsuki,” you whine, fingers curling into his shirt to steady yourself.

“No?” He moves back, an ash-blonde brow rising in mock. “You’re not a dirty girl? Hmm, my memory’s pretty good, Princess, and I’m recalling some pretty irrefutable evidence that’d suggest otherwise.”

His hands slide down to cup your ass, thick fingers crawling between your thighs and prying at your flesh. He fingers over your covered slit, grin widening as you stiffen in his hold, a moan lingering in your mouth.

“No, I meant… I mean, I actually want to talk,” you sigh as you step backwards, away from his muscular body. You move far back enough for his hands to drop from your figure, your arms crossing over your chest defensively as you look toward the ground.

Bakugou seems confused by your refusal, but he clears his throat and adjusts his pants before he shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Okay…” he sits up slightly, still half-sitting on the ledge of his desk.

There’s an awkward, heavy silence between the two of you as he waits for you to talk. You know he’s waiting, but with every second that passes, the pressure in the room intensifies and makes it more and more daunting for you to speak.

“Do you like me?”

Bakugou’s expression stays guarded, the only indication that he heard you being a raised, unimpressed brow. “Hah?”

You swallow, even though your throat is drier than ever. He’s really going to make this harder than it has to be, isn’t he? But you’ve already prepared to deal with him, in all respects, here and now. “I mean— what is this to you?”

He seems a little flustered now, his eyes darting away from you as his cheeks pinken just a shade. Letting out a scoff, he growls, “I don’t know what you mean by… this.”

His playing dumb doesn’t appease you— in fact, it infuriates you. How dare he act like there’s nothing to discuss between you two?! You’ve indulged this man with vigorous extra-curricular activities for months at this point, and he has the audacity to think he can give you the go-around?

“Fuck off Bakugou, you know what I mean.”

“Oi oi oi,” he moves his big hands, patting air toward you condescendingly. “Let’s not get all upset in the middle of the day. We can talk about this later.”

Bakugou can see immediately that he’s said the wrong thing. Your face screws up and your inquisitive gaze becomes a glare, squaring your stance and your arms sliding uncrossed so you can park your hands on your hips.

“No, fuck that, we’re talking about this now!”

Seeing you pissed off must’ve pissed him off too, because now he stands upright and his menacing gaze burns down on you. “What’s there to talk about? I thought the whole point of it all was to not have to talk about jack shit.”

“Well this isn’t just jack shit!” you snarl, frustration building at how thick of a skull this man has. God, you admire whatever hell of a woman pushed his fatass head out of the womb. “We need to establish what this thing is so we can act like adults for fucking once in our lives! We work together, for fuck’s sake, we need to be responsible about this!”

“Hah?” Bakugou seems more agitated than before, his lip curling as he brandishes his signature sneer. “We’re fucking around, shitty woman, isn’t that the most adult activity we can do?” As if he hasn’t lit your fuse enough, he throws up some patronizing finger quotes when he emphasizes the word.

“So that’s what we’re doing, Bakugou? For months, we’ve just been,” you squint at him, only serving to amplify your unrelenting glare as you throw some aggressive finger quotes back at the man in front of you, “fucking around? Making eyes at each other across the conference table, and spending our nights together, just ‘cuz?”

Bakugou growls in irritation, swiping a large hand over his face from top to bottom as he hisses out profanities. He mutters something under his breath, clearly not wanting to deal with the conversation you’re forcing on him right now.

After waiting for his response for a moment but only receiving radio silence, you continue. “I’m a person, Bakugou, and in case you haven’t noticed, so are you! You can’t just ignore your feelings and act like no one and nothing matters to you!”

“Feelings?!” he shouts with contempt burning in his scarlet eyes, as if some atrocious, vile flavor gushes onto his tongue merely from uttering the word. “Oi, the fuck do you get off talking about my feelings? You don’t know shit about me, Y/H/N.”

His use of your professional hero name makes you bristle in fury, anger flaring and rationality fleeting. Everything’s escalating too fast— this isn’t the way you wanted this conversation to go. Your heart leaping into your throat, you muster the courage to change the tides, to tell him how much you want him. “Fuck you Katsuki, I know you have feelings for me! Because I—”

“I don’t have fuckin’ feelings for you!”

An arrow to the heart— the first sign of damage appears on the thumping muscle in your chest. But still, you continue, too stubborn to back down at this point. “Oh really, Boom-Boy? Then why the fuck are you still here, stuck in this godforsaken tryst with me? What am I to you, huh?”

Your stupid nickname for him makes his fists clench, steam nearly visibly blowing from his ears. “I’m not fuckin’ stuck! You— You’re just—” he buffers, rage still broiling in his gaze as he tries to come up with the most fitting word. But he doesn’t have much time— you’re glaring him down with your hands on your hips, cornering him against his desk and he yells out the first word that comes to mind.

“— entertainment.”

…

The tension in the air thickens noticeably, and you put all your effort into forcing your face not to reveal the hurt that pours into your bones. So this is what it feels like to put your heart on your sleeve… it fucking sucks.

Bakugou seems just as surprised as you are, maybe even more— his jaw hangs open cartoonishly and those red eyes are fixed on you, no longer harsh slits but wide, round orbs.

No matter how hard you try not to show your true emotions, he can clearly see that his words have stung you. The silence that fills the growing void between you two is deafening, weighing down his body as if he’s drowning in his immediate regret. But he doesn’t say anything, he can’t— you’d poked and prodded the sleeping bear of his ego and what he’d said couldn’t just be brushed under the rug and overlooked.

Entertainment. You’re nothing more than that to him. Why did you ever think you could penetrate through the booby-trapped walls around this man’s heart? Of course he didn’t want you for anything other than your body. Of course he didn’t.

For that one moment, you let him see it. You don’t hide the pain that washes over you, and you look him straight in the eye.

Bakugou stifles, throat tightening as he examines your crushed expression. He feels like he’s trapped, a fly that’s landed on a sticky trap that he can’t escape, a sinking feeling weighing down his chest, screaming at him to do something— say something— anything to mitigate the wound he’d just blasted onto your heart. “Y/N…”

And just like that your defenses come back online. He watches as you square yourself off, the soft vulnerability you’d revealed disappearing as your eyes became vacant of emotion. If anything, it looks like understanding, and it squeezes Bakugou’s chest like you’ve pulled a string tight around his lungs.

“Okay,” you murmur, your voice calm and low.

Bakugou is frozen, body unwilling to suck it up and take back the word even though his heart is so desperately screaming at him to do so. But he just can’t, he can’t take it back because then he’d have to  admit it was a lie he only threw out in an attempt to save his own feelings from getting hurt. If only he knew that causing your pain would hurt a thousand times more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, taking a step back from him. Gaze dropping to the floor, your arms come out to cross atop your chest, a makeshift shield for your battered resolve. “I don’t think we should do this anymore,” you whisper, but Bakugou hears it clear as day. He can’t breathe— he’s stuck to his spot as if that damn Icyhot bastard had frozen him himself. “I just… I've worked too hard for my career to be derailed by... whatever this was…”

Somehow Bakugou nods, even though he doesn’t want to. His body moves on its own, on autopilot, as his own arms cross over his chest, and he sits back down on top of his desk. He’s still looking at you, chest heavy with bated breath.

“If the public were to find out about us fucking around, that would become my reputation as a hero, and… I just— I can’t, Katsuki.”

Your voice trembles as you whisper his name, and Bakugou’s heart feels like it’s being stabbed over and over again.

“From now on, we’re just Ground Zero and Y/H/N, okay? Back to normal…” you smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not at all.

Bakugou finally gets some control of his body, lips parting as he desperately searches for the right words that could somehow reverse this mess. All that comes out is a rough “Fine.” He cringes, frustration with himself building now more than ever. What’s wrong with him? That’s the opposite of what he wants, why can’t he say anything?!

You avert your eyes once more, turning to leave. Halfway through the door, you look back at him and pause. “See you around, Boom-Boy,” you breathe, the click of the door following, and leaving Bakugou to sink into his own self-loathing and regret.

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

AWAA so reader and blasty have finally realized their feelings for one another... unfortunately this is a bakugou fic so of course he sucks at communication. i’m sorry if he’s ooc, as i said in my notes i havent written for him in a year lmao RIP. anyways i intend to make a fourth and final part with the resolution sooo i hope that i will have enough motivation to make that happen soon! 

as always please let me know if you enjoyed! <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[hollybollybingbong]

Albus Dumbledore is the worst.

Albus Dumbledore was written to be a hero, and that's what makes him such a good villain. Almost everyone in the Wizarding World trusted him and thought he was so incredible and amazing, but in reality, he was playing a brilliant game of chess, using them all as his pawns.

How? Let's start from the beginning with Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore first met Tom when he was eleven, and even then, you could see the warning signs. Dumbledore did too. He saw that Tom was dangerous and unstable, and Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, wanted to give him a chance at Hogwarts.

But, Dumbledore, also, being Dumbledore, was the only one who saw who Tom really was, and only "kept an annoyingly close watch on him." He saw Tom Riddle, at the age of eleven saying "I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want," and did not think to do anything about it.

He said to Harry in Chamber of Secrets that, "help will be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," yet, here we have Tom Riddle, who desperately needed help, and did not get it. Could Dumbledore have prevented Tom Riddle from becoming who he was? I'm not sure. Could he have helped him more while he was at Hogwarts? 100%

Next up, Sirius (and a bit of Remus)

One thing I never understood while reading the books was why Sirius had to spend twelve years in Azkaban when there were literally potions that forced you to tell the truth.

The truth is, unsurprisingly, Dumbledore wanted him there. By keeping Sirius in Azkaban, there was no way he could adopt Harry (who was legally his), and ruin Dumbledore's perfectly thought out plan of manipulating Harry. Dumbledore was a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot, if he managed to get Snape off, he surely could've gotten Sirius free too.

But unlike Snape, and Remus, and Hagrid, and Harry, Dumbledore couldn't use Sirius. Remus was a werewolf with no job prospects in the Wizarding World, and no Muggle qualifications either. He spent twelve years alone, as he watched his friends die or get sent to Azkaban. But then here comes Dumbledore, who gives him a job and a home when no one else would. And suddenly, Remus is loyal to Dumbledore.

Hagrid, a half-giant, was kicked out of Hogwarts in his third year for something he didn't do. But Dumbledore comes along and suddenly Hagrid has a home and job, and owes it to Dumbledore, ensuring his loyalty.

Even Snape, Dumbledore saved him from a lifetime in Azkaban prison, securing his loyalty too.

But Sirius, Sirius was different. He saw right through Dumbledore and his manipulation. He was a rebel and chose his path. A path that didn't involve Dumbledore, which is why he was stuck in Azkaban for twelve years, despite him being innocent. Because him being around would've messed up Dumbledore's plan to raise Harry to die, because there is no way in hell that Sirius would've allowed that to happen.

Finally, Harry Potter, himself.

Harry escaped death at the age of one and then was essentially kidnapped by Hagrid on Dumbledore's orders. While there's no proof, surely James and Lily would've written a will, especially considering they were living through a war with their son being the target for the greatest dark wizard of all time. I believe that Dumbledore pulled some strings (because remember, he was a member of the Wizengamot, and despite not holding the title of Minister for Magic, he was as good as, especially considering how incompetent they were), so he could be in charge of Harry's living arrangements and manipulate him further. Sirius Black was his legal guardian, being godfather and all, and yet Hagrid had "orders from Dumbledore," so he got stuck with the Dursleys.

Harry grew up in this abusive home where he was unwanted, neglected, and bullied, so when he eventually finds out about the Wizarding World, he sees it as a home, a safe haven, away from the Dursleys. He feels grateful to the Wizarding World for saving him from them. And when he has to go back at the beginning of summer, it's a reminder that it can all be taken away, so when Harry has to sacrifice himself to save the world he's come to love so much, of course, he does! Because why wouldn't he? It's his home.

Dumbledore could've left Harry with Remus, or the Weasley's, or the Longbottom's, or literally any other family, but the Dursley's made Harry easiest to manipulate.

And before anyone mentions Lily's blood wards, Dumbledore says in Order of the Phoenix: "You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you."

There was no reason for Harry to grow up in an abusive household, isolated from the Wizarding World, but it made Harry an easier pawn to manipulate in Dumbledore's game.

Similarly, when Harry is in school, he rewards Harry's saviour complex through house points. In Philosopher's Stone, the trio very clearly go against McGonagall's orders and put themselves in dangerous situations to 'save the day.' But instead of facing any punishment, they are rewarded via the House Cup, and Dumbledore is buying Harry's loyalty.

It's always Harry being the one to put himself into dangerous situations, never Dumbledore. Chamber of Secrets, Harry and Ginny both nearly die, but oh, thanks to Dumbledore's phoenix the day is saved! But wait, wasn't Dumbledore there the first time the Chamber was opened? Was there nobody else in the entire Wizarding World who could fix this mess, without having to rely on a twelve-year-old???

Prisoner of Azkaban. Why were Harry and Hermione the ones to rescue Sirius? Why couldn't Dumbledore do it himself? Goblet of Fire. You're telling me the 'most powerful wizard in the world' couldn't break the magical contract? In all honesty, he probably could, but he said it himself, he wanted to see what would happen. He was using Harry as bait. McGonagall seems to be the only person who cares about this poor boy's life. And then we have Order of the Phoenix. Where Dumbledore isolates himself from Harry, gets Snape to teach him Occlumency instead of doing it himself, which leads to Sirius's death, which I believe was planned (to an extent).

And at the end of Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore comes 'clean,' saying that the reason he ghosted Harry for the entire year, was because 'he cared for him too much.' That he cared more about Harry's happiness than the safety of others, that he put Harry's life above the life of innocent people. He was telling Harry, who watched his godfather die in front of him, and blamed himself for it, that him being happy would lead to the deaths of others. Dumbledore's exact quote was, "What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy." And of course, Dumbledore said this, because he knows Harry has a tendency to sacrifice himself for others, and as a result, he'll choose to die when the time comes.

Dumbledore kept Harry's inevitable death from him for sixteen years, five while he was at Hogwarts. And guess what? By this point, Harry was wrapped so tightly around Dumbledore's little finger, and wouldn't say no even if he could.

Harry Potter was raised like a pig for slaughter, by a man he trusted. And this makes me so angry. Harry Potter was seventeen when he walked into the forest alone, more than willing to die. He was seventeen when he and his friends fought in a war against people twice their age. He was seventeen when he saw some of those friends for the last time, watched them die fighting a war that none of them had seen the start of.

He was fifteen when he watched his godfather die before him, and blamed himself for it. He was fourteen when he watched Cedric Diggory die at the hand of Voldemort. He was twelve when he had to fight a basilisk and Tom Riddle single-handedly while trying to save himself and eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley. He was eleven and having to find and protect the Philosopher's Stone, the first 'test' of many. He was a child battling an adult's war, with no choice in the matter.

Dumbledore manipulated them all, so he could get children to fight his battles for him.