#but no one can prove it was him who planted those explosives

[calypso707]

hey i adore your writing!

i was wondering how astarion would take care of his s/o who suffers from migraines and severe photosensitivity. my friends always call me a vampire because of it so i thought it’d be a funny dynamic 😆

this one is actually funny because i suffer from migraines as well, so here we are! I don't know if I'm proud of what I've written, but it was fun to do! enjoy! ❤

OS - Astarion x gn drow reader : Simple things.

Living on the surface had proved more complicated than the Underdark. Being born, growing up and spending a significant part of your life in the darkness had certainly had its advantages, but now that you were living on the surface, you realised just how different things were. Whether it was people's lifestyles or all those bright colours. So yes, there were bright colours in the Underdark, but they were often signs of danger, such as explosive mushrooms or plants releasing deadly spores.

You may have been used to the dark and could see in the night better than your companions, but constant exposure to the sun had its drawbacks. So, sure, it was nice to feel the light warming your skin, you could now appreciate things like the colour of the sky, listen to birdsong or even hear the sound of the wind, but your eyes still couldn't handle so much brightness. And on top of that, you had a tadpole in your skull that was not only making its own little nest but was also giving you migraines on a regular basis.

But you still tried to stay positive, because thanks to all the adventures you'd been through, however farfetched, you'd met your current companions, who had turned out to be loyal allies and faithful friends.

And above all, you had met Astarion.

A magnificient two-century-old vampire.

It was almost poetic, two beings of darkness who found themselves having to survive under the sun. So what was it between you two? It was a tricky question, but you cared about him as much as he cared about you, and knowing that was more than enough. Though, Astarion was handling the conditions and opportunities this adventure offered him better than you were. He had always loved sunbathing as soon as the first lights appeared. You enjoyed them too, but in small doses.

While you were enjoying a moment's respite from this chaotic and probably deadly mission, you had given yourselves a break and were strolling through the alleys of Baldur's Gate. Astarion was describing the things his former master, Cazador Szarr, had made him do, a certain bitterness in his voice. You tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but the sun was at its zenith, there were no clouds in the sky to dim its brightness and you felt as if your eyes were burning and your skull was splitting in two.

"Are you even listening when I am talking to you?", grumbled Astarion.

"Sorry… Can we take a short break?" you asked, using your hand to shade your eyes as you looked at him.

"My dear, are you sure that you are not a vampire?" said Astarion with a smirk.

"Hilarious" you sighed.

You took a few steps into the shadow under a stall on the main street leading to the Wyrm's Rock fortress. Astarion was looking at you with a slightly concerned expression; he seemed to be thinking.

"Hm.. I think I have an idea. Stay put." It was almost an order.

Before you could reply, he was heading off into "Carm's Garm" shop. You wondered what had gone through his mind. You decided to wait for him and you leaned against the stone wall behind you, watching the passers-by go about their business, carefree. You listened the trout seller shouting about how fresh his fish were and the wholesaler who was delighted with his harvest.

Long minutes passed, during which you examined everyone who passed in the street. You didn't hear Astarion come back, and you were startled when he cleared his throat once he was beside you. You looked at him and noticed that he was holding several hats under his arms. You tried to hide your smile but it was complicated.

"Let's see…" He put the pile of accessories at his feet and picked up a first hat and placed it on your head. It was a sort of pointy wizard's hat with hideous embroidery that went all the way around, and before you could even give your opinion, Astarion took it off, shaking his head and frowning. "Awful"

He then picked up a sort of adjustable steel helmet, and didn't even take the time to let you try it on before he tossed it aside, doing the same with a brightly coloured top hat. Finally, he took a simple brown hat with silver wings embroidered on the stiff leather and placed it on your head as gently as possible. The brim of the hat was wide enough to keep your face in the shade.

He stood back and examined you for a few seconds, his index finger resting on his chin: "Hm.. I think this one will do, darling. Of course, I still am the fashion icon of our group, but I can assure you you are not far from it now."

You readjusted your hat slightly and took a long look at him, biting your lower lip to hold back your smile. You were pleasantly surprised by his gesture and his words made you chuckle. Astarion moved closer to you and put his hands on your shoulders, pressing them lightly as you put yours against his chest.

"I am impressed, so you are able to do sweet things." you said.

"Sweet? What an idea" He grinned before tilting his head to the side, a thin smile on his lips. "It just should not be so unbearable to enjoy the simple things of life."

And he was right.

═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═

thanks for reading this OS, i hope you liked it!

don't hesitate to read my other writings on Astarion! ❤

Astarion x gn druid tav : On your skin.

Astarion x gn tav : No place for love.

Astarion x gn tav : A thousand thanks.

Fiction - Astation x fem!tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

[theskyexists]

I think its hilarious that Andy Weir made the go-getter administrator who's supposed to organise saving the world Dutch. Stratt is not a Dutch name btw. So maybe German heritage or marriage. The blunt, direct, no nonsense, even unintentionally rude stereotype which is often correct in small ways is a funny little in-joke. I even think he got the speech pattern in English correct....

Wow powerful woman...

I will say this: he didn't find out how to make the astrophage release energy? He found out how they reproduce? So... Why did they say that? Are they just burning these lil dots?

How is the astrophage what it is. How is it not destroyed by pressure and such. And.

Why in the heck would they swerve around going from a CO2 rich planet back to the sun... Is that really more efficient than simply covering a planet in yourself and being a plant basically?

Ok so he did find out how the astrophage release energy, as in, move themselves with light.

What's the problem with the sun dimming if Eridians don't get any energy from the sun?/sunlight doesn't reach them?

Oh I actually felt so sad for Leclerc, when he cried.

And I love Stratt so much lol. Who was bright enough to put her in charge. She's the perfect 'war'-time leader. Completely selfless.

Oh. Im so sad for rocky. 46 years. Oh no...oh no.

Oh Stratt was being sexist... That's not realist. Will Weir refute her via Ryland? Yeah he did. Hah. That's cool.

Its weird that Rocky hasn't considered: if I am no longer in my workshop, then I won't be protected from radiation.

Did they not test the teams/teammates for psychological compatibility???? Oversight

I dont really get how they can catch astrophage without getting blasted apart by their insane speeds hopping from planet to sun and back.

"Life can be pretty picky about temperature ranges."

EXCEPT ASTROPHAGE? and all the other cells in the cold vacuum of space?? They just skipped over them. Hello??? What's their secret? Do they also smash neutrinos together or whatever?? I couldn't follow that physics bit

Aww. The team all liked him so much because he's so normal and easily upset by e.g. their approaching deaths.

I'm a bit worried that Weir is going to prove Stratts sexism right by having Shapiro and DeBois back out because she got pregnant or something. But that's really not in line with the vibe so maybe they just both get killed because of their entanglement... I still wouldn't like that. Honestly Stratt's throwback to 'two men one woman sex will make advanced astronauts revert to cavemen' seems like a deliberate callback to all those sci fi books that insist on the inherent murderous explosiveness of male sexuality.

'math is procedure [not thinking]' uh yeah it is biologically.

Weir shunting in a lil personal theory on intelligence being based on gravity. Interesting. But the reason why Rocky and protag are same intelligence is the same reason their civilisations are about as advanced: they wouldn't otherwise have met.

It's hilarious that Ryland is like: I miss my kids they looked up to me. EVERYBODY IN THE WORLD PROBABLY LOOKS UP TO YOU RIGHT NOW MY MAN

Yeah. At the last possible moment, astrophage exploded the place that Shapiro and DeBois were in. Damn. Ok but its kinda on Stratt TO BE HONEST. That she let prime crew role member and same secondary crew role member hang around the same place together at all. In a way.

This seems to imply that they left Shapiro and DuBois to do an experiment on ASTROPHAGE TOGETHER. what??? That they cause the explosion even.

Why let the science crew at an astrophage at all? WHY LET THEM AT IT TOGETHER??? HELLO????

honestly why was Stratt so lax about all primary personnel safety all along including herself?? Why was she on the airplane carrier that was doing experiments with bombs????

Ok but how the HELL did astrophage develop these abilities????

Also. Why. Uh. Why bother with a natural predator if you can just prick em. Aren't there lots of creatures that can prick other cells. Though probably not in nigh-vacuum...

How did they make a spaceship without electronics.... ...huh??? How does the robot work on the outside of Rocky's ship? ....what

Ok so they don't have procedures for testing astrophage. BUT ALSO WHY WERE BOTH ESSENTIAL CREW MEMBERS IN THE SAME ROLE TESTING EDGE CASES??? HELLO???? HOW WAS THAT ALLOWED??? HELLO???? STRATT????

Ok but she kept a tertiary science specialist then i guess she kept tertiary other specialists. But also. The narrative acts like she had no part and final responsibility in letting her specialists do dangerous ass stupid tests. Like there aren't a hundred other people they could have gotten to do TESTS AWAY FROM THE IMPORTANT CREW

Why would you wait for his answer. Just get the next in line out NOW.

In fact. Why the heck wouldn't they train up at least six understudies. Theatre shows even do that. This narrative development was the one I was reading towards and it turned out stupid.

Also. They got a biologist for tests, an engineer for maintenance, and a commander. Was the commander the navigator and maths guy? Or are all astronauts supposed to be able to do what Grace does? Complex space calculations? Like. Lucky he remained in form firstly and secondly that hes so gifted at physics????? He's a biologist right? But I guess also a physicist?

Stratt doesn't respect Grace? Even now? Then she is kind of an idiot after all. Like all very strong-minded people are ... Too convinced of herself. She relied on Grace for a huge part. And she doesn't respect him? Because she herself could never be a coward. That's idiotic. She cannot forgive cowardice because she herself finds it much easier than others to be ruthless.

I could accept this twist a little more if the leadup had made more sense. Stratt is murdering Grace for sure - but the narrative insult of her having been able to prevent that by explicitly training up additional crews instead of quietly training Grace PLUS doing a better job of keeping the prime crew from STUPID DANGEROUS EXPERIMENTS - and the actual insult of calling him a COWARD while doing it - that's like. That was their last interaction. Makes me feel vindictive. Hope she regrets it. She wouldn't regret sending him against his will. But the damn insult to somebody who she has worked closely with, who delivered extremely important discoveries, who did every single secondary administration.

Ok so. And important point of Grace for Rocky was that he had science equipment. But now Grace is like: eh. Rocky can make better equipment. Why didn't Rocky think of that lol

On the other hand Grace HAS proven to be kind of a reckless idiot again and again and again.

Right they've got electronics but not transistors. Right.

I feel like Weir should have spent a little more flashback on Grace bonding with his 'crew' and 'friends'.

Why the FUCK would you send out your beetles while on the trip. Send them out before you start on the risky way home. Why is Grace such an idiot.

Stratt goes to talk to Grace. I don't know I've soured on her. Not because of what she chose to do to Grace but the way she did it.

She doesn't even leave him in fucking peace

Ok so I don't like how Weir did this scene either. It didn't give Grace a moment of grace. And it didn't give Stratt the chance to say: well the good thing about you going is that you won't be here when everything is going to hell. Think about that.

Why are the taumoeba farms manually fed...? Didn't Grace want the option of going into coma...?

HE WENT BACK TO ROCKY AND HE WENT BACK TO SAVE ERID AND ROCKY COULD BARELY SPEAK OR BELIEVE IT GRACE CAME BACK WHEN ROCKY THOUGH ABSOLUTELY ALL HOPE WAS LOST

Taumoeba are like normal amoeba...ok. but then why is it the only thing that can eat astrophage

He did it. And Earth doesn't even know that he did it. That he did it alone. Or that he met aliens, and they worked together to do it. He probably didn't even write it down and put it on the beetle. None of it. (Because he's kind of an idiot). Like. He probably didn't even tell them about the aliens!!!! Come on!!!! Anyway he's teaching little aliens.... Lovely

[yowyowyaoi]

Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Nagato

You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.

300 miles? Is that really the closest?!

I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.

Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.

Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.

I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.

I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.

I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.

No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.

You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.

From Kakuzu

Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.

Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.

I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.

Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔

Much, much too expensive.

I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.

I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.

It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship. 

It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due. 

If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.

I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.

Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!

I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.

From Konan

Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡

It’s funny in a shouldn���t be funny way.

Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀

No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!

Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.

I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢

No offense but do you even have nails 🤔

I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.

Since we were children 🥰

I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.

Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.

You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫

Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.

Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??

From Hidan

Freak.

Then stop watching, weirdo!

Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!

Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees. 

Then steal him some damn glasses next time!

But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔

He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂

I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.

How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?

They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.

Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?

If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.

Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄

So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.

From Sasori

Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.

A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.

Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒

I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.

Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.

An interesting experiment, certainly.

I have vague memories but that’s all.

You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off. 

Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!

I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.

If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?

You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.

I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.

From Kisame

So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.

Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.

Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.

No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.

Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.

I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.

I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.

Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒

I don’t but Samehada seems to.

The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋

Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.

Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning. 

From Deidara

You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!

If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼

Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?

Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!

Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff 🤔

I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.

Honestly not until I met Sasori lol 

Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩

I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.

Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.

Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖

Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡

Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.

From Itachi

Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.

Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.

No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.

Yes but cabbage is so versatile.

You saw him? Did he look well? 👀

The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.

I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.

There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.

No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.

22 doesn’t really interest me.

From Obito

The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.

Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!

He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍

Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.

I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.

It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.

I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.

The constant money woes are so tedious.

Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.

We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.

You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻

What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?

Bonus: From Madara

He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.

What? That little shit. 😡

If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.

You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.

Have you seen my good blanket?

What happened to my slippers?

🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.

Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.

Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.

Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.

Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?

If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.

Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.

Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.

First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?

What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.

I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.

[michixoxo]

heyyy!! i love your hcs so much! if you’re still taking requests could you do what the main cast would argue about with their s/o??

ofc! thanks so much for sending in a request! sorry for the late reply lol

John

differences in status. whether low tier or high tier, you can never quite understand him. even he can't understand himself.

because of his fluctuation through the hierarchy, his experiences can't always be evenly matched one to one unless you've gone through the same exact thing he has.

as a low tier, you can't understand the pressure he faced as king, nor can you understand his aversion to using his ability.

as a high tier, you don't understand the pain he's been through as a cripple. you never can, not from your privileged seat in the hierarchy.

this can make having deep conversation with him about topics surrounding ability usage very frustrating for both you and him.

you want to relate with him, you want to be aware of the experiences in his life that shaped him as a person. you want to hold a golden key to his heart and unlock that guarded door with little more than your love.

it hurts, more than you thought it would, when you realize you can't.

for him, he'd rather pull his own teeth.

imagine, for your entire life, you've been suffering. you've been crying out in vain and trying to protect yourself against a society that serves to grind you down into ash. your entire life you've witnessed people like you struggling to survive. your own father, struggling to survive.

and then, for someone to come and ask you, with a tilt of their head, "what's been going on your entire life? why have you been so angry for so long?"

you try to keep conversations like these to a minimum, as they can get more than a bit heated, especially on his end. you both have your own opinions, which can lead to hurtful comments being made.

at the very least, most of your arguments come to a resolution in the span of a few hours or at most a few days.

Sera

secretive. if you can't already read her mind, you can forget about ever being able to figure out what's going on inside.

she's always been reserved. she's not one to tell her business to anyone who doesn't ask, and you know this. however, you'd be lying if you said you weren't bothered by it.

when she lost her ability, you, along with the rest of the student body, only found out through juni's newspaper.

horrified doesn't even begin to describe what you were as you saw your girlfriend's crumpled up body on the wellston weekly, picture perfect for everyone to gawk at.

she doesn't have bad intentions, in fact, she does it to protect you. she doesn't want to worry you and doesn't want to feel like a burden.

yet, you still feel a pang in your heart as the thought that she doesn't trust you sneaks its way into your mind like a venomous little snake, planting a seed in your mind that at some point, has no choice but to sprout.

your arguments aren't loud or explosive. they're tiny, belittling comments made under exasperated breaths. or its in the silence of the room as she shuts you out, pretending you're invisible as she dismisses your complaints.

you feel like you're going crazy. are you the problem? are you freaking out over something so small? why are you demanding she tell you things? what's wrong with you?

it's not common you win an argument against sera as you feel like you're always fighting two battles. one with her, and one with yourself.

your "arguments" can last for days, but maybe not weeks. it's only until someone, usually you, breaks and apologizes first that you both can reach a compromise and forgive and forget.

Arlo

so manipulative. at times, he doesn't even have bad intentions. but being led astray for his own personal goals is a frankly miserable position you find yourself in all too often.

more often than not, he's had to prove himself to people he's met. in this world, those without talent or achievements get lost in the crowd or worse, beaten until an inch of their lives.

ordering someone that doesn't respect you to do something can end much worse than simply... guiding them in the right direction.

but you're not just someone. you're his significant other. so are you really in the wrong for not wanting to be treated like a pig with a carrot stick by someone who's supposed to love you?

every time it happens, you feel so stupid. so idiotic for even thinking for a second you could trust him.

feeling like a puppet dangling at his fingers, there's a sense of violation the moment you realize you're behaving exactly as he wants you to.

it isn't to say he doesn't trust you to do the "right" thing. however, no one can truly be trusted, can they? that includes him. that includes you.

you can't help yourself from having an emotional outburst the second you notice. similar to sera's s/o, you feel like you're going crazy. he acts calm, giving limited reactions past just furrowing his brows.

you feel more like you're wasting his time than a victim of his relentless ambition and drive. desperate for a reaction, desperate for him to feel the same angry way you do, you begin making biting comments at him. "liar" is just one of the derogatory terms you spit out. not like it isn't true.

your arguments can last days, maybe ranging onto a week or so depending on how mad you get. in the end, once you're both more level headed, you have a conversation that ends with an apology from him, leading the conflict to be resolved.

not to say he isn't going to do it again...

Remi

people pleasing to the point she forgets that you're her priority, or supposed to be at least.

you get it. she's a kind-hearted person. you wouldn't want her to be any other way. it's one of the reasons you love her so much. but not like this.

you wonder if it was a curse in disguise once remi became proactive about her duties as queen at the school. you know it was the best thing for wellston at the time, especially with john running the place.

you feel so selfish. wanting her time all to yourself. she's busy, much busier than you. and she's helping so many people. you feel childish for asking "what about me?"

and what about you? while your girlfriend is off rescuing the first person she sees, what are you doing? it makes you feel... inadequate. like you're only holding her down every second you spend with her.

you feel a piece of your heart break every time you ask her to hang out with you, or go on a date, or just sit and stare at you as you try and burn the color of her eyes into your memory, and she says no. with those pretty eyelashes that still have a hint of blossom pink beneath her mascara, she says no.

you wish a strong breeze would carry you away with the petals of a cherry blossom tree.

instead, you're left standing there as your girlfriend goes off to tend to the needs of other people. while you sit and lick your wounds.

bottled up emotions will eventually come out and when they do, your grievances explode onto her like the water of a broken dam.

if this was her before, she would've cried and apologized. but this is her now, and even with tears in her eyes, she stands before you and stares at you with determination.

there are some things more important than others.

Blyke

stubborn beyond belief. despite his heart of gold, he can be quite argumentative when he believes something is right or wrong. he's prone to not hearing you out.

this shows itself through slight acts every day. in which he won't eat a different brand of instant ramen apart from his favorite. and you could pry it out of his cold dead hands if you wish to part him from it.

in less humorous situations, it's beyond frustrating to get him to do something or stop doing something that he doesn't want to.

you begged him to stop the vigilante work. you really, truly did.

he said he couldn't. that he couldn't just leave the residents of those towns to rot as they face injustice at the hands of power hungry people wishing to exploit them.

he asked if you even cared for the people. you told him that you didn't. that he was your priority. that his life wasn't worth the strangers of those towns who weren't always so grateful for his help. he couldn't believe you.

you turn the question back on him. does he care about those people? or does he just want to play hero?

his short temper begins to show and it's not long until an energy draining, loud, screaming match of an argument ensues.

during a break between your argument, you begin to cry. noticing this, his expression changes into one of concern and worry as he goes over to sit on the couch with you. he rubs circles into your hand.

you can't lose him. not like how remi lost rei. you'd give anything for him to value his life as much as you value him.

no matter how much you cry, you know you're fighting a losing match.

Isen

judgmental at times. he can have an analytical and critical approach to inspecting things that leaves you wanting to tear your hair out. the most frustrating part is that he believes he's helping you.

he's not trying to be a dick about it, except for when he is, but he can't stop his journalist's eye from pointing out flaws in your thinking.

it can leave you feeling unheard and criticized and relatively stupid as he lists off the holes in your plan.

even when there aren't any, you can still find him coming up with different plans that can be both better and worse than your previous idea.

in reality, he just doesn't want you to fail at something you're so obviously trying hard at. he's not the most talented individual, so there have been times where his passion for something was extinguished after a devastating setback, leading him to not try it again.

he doesn't want that for you. so, his criticism is not to put you down or belittle you, but to keep you from making the same stupid mistakes he's been guilty of time and time again.

this miscommunication has you shouting at him out of irritation one day.

less this. more of that. how would that even work? how would this not work? you demand to know what it is he even wants from you.

stunned into silence, he can't help but feel more than a little embarrassed. he didn't even notice he was being such a... jerk. and to you of all people? god, he's an idiot.

but that doesn't mean his own sense of pride won't have him defending his criticisms, it's not like anything he's said is wrong now is it? this leads you to share your own opinions about isen to him.

one hurtful comment leads to another and before you know it you're out of breath and you and him start screaming at each other with tears welling in either eyes.

is this how he sees you? is that how you see him? so be it then.

it takes a while, a week or so for you guys to come back and apologize to one another. it takes weeks and a few more honest conversations for the things you said during the arguments to be cleared up and confirmed as untrue things you both said in the moment.

despite this, it's not above him or even you to call back to the comments during future arguments.

nothing is below the belt when it's no longer about proving your point, but about hurting the other person the most.

ps. remi and blyke's don't have a specific time range where the argument gets resolved bc it lowkey doesn't.

[rukbat3]

Babylon 5 Rewatch - Survivors

This is a post I originally wrote several years ago for Mark Oshiro’s Mark Watches blog. I don’t really plan to edit them before posting, so there may be some references that don’t make sense. If you see words that look like gibberish, they are actually rot13, which was our way of discussing spoilers. There are plugins you can install to decode the text (Cryptext is the one I use), or you can copy/paste to rot13.com, or just ignore it.

This episode is pretty decent, although there are a couple of plot holes for those inclined to nitpick. [season 5] Gur znva guvat vg frgf hc vf Tnevonyqv’f uvfgbel bs qevaxvat ceboyrzf, naq juvyr vg’f onq rabhtu gb frr uvz snyy bss gur jntba urer, gung’f abguvat gb jung unccraf va frnfba svir. Ba gur bgure unaq, vg jbhyq unir orra naablvat gb frg hc fhpu n pehpvny cneg bs uvf punenpgre naq gura unir guvf or gur raq bs vg, fb tbbq wbo, WZF, sbe gnxvat Tnevonyqv’f nypbubyvfz fb frevbhfyl.

Ivanova is great in this episode. She doesn’t get much to do, but she makes the most of her few scenes. I love that she decides to do the maintenance check on the communication system on her own initiative in order to give Sinclair more time (even though it doesn’t do much good in the end). Also: “You are going to resist, I hope.”

Earthforce One is so pretty!

I think there’s an interesting moral question in this episode. Is Major Kemmer justified in risking Nolan’s life by waking him up for the possibility of learning more about what (or who) caused the explosion? There are a couple of factors at play here to make the question more complex. For one, at the point when she does this, they don’t even know for sure that the explosion was sabotage. It could have just been human error. They are able to prove it was a bomb, but not until later. On the other hand, Kemmer is the Head of Presidential Security, charged with making sure the station is safe for the President’s visit. With the possibility that this could be the prelude to some sort of assassination attempt, does that afford her greater latitude? Finally, she says that she read his file and he was going to die anyway, so she needed to get the information while she still could. This seems to me to be a pretty convincing argument, but Dr. Franklin is acting like he thinks Nolan still has a chance to pull through, so maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see? I dunno, what do y'all think?

Nolan was lucky he was talking to someone who was already predisposed to believe Garibaldi capable of any number of heinous acts. Any reasonable investigation into the explosion would have turned up evidence of Garibaldi’s innocence/Nolan’s guilt pretty quickly. Speaking of which, it’s frustrating that it takes Sinclair and Lou Welch going behind Kemmer’s back to think of searching Nolan’s quarters. Surely that’s an obvious precautionary step to take?

Of course, now I’m thinking about it, and if Nolan had never accused Garibaldi, Cutter would have had no reason to plant evidence. They would have discovered the existence of a bomb, and probably would have searched Nolan’s quarters earlier, since he’s a reasonable suspect. And that would have seemed like the end of it. Nolan was dead, so there would be no reason to expect more sabotage attempts, and Cutter would have been free to plant the other bombs without suspicion falling on him. So I guess it’s good that everything worked out the way it did!

Favorite scene: Not one from the episode, but one from the blooper reel, although I hear it in my head every time I watch the real scene, so it might as well be actually in the episode! It’s the scene where Garibaldi goes to talk to Londo to ask him for a loan.

[blooper reel]

Tnevonyqv: “Gurl cynagrq n fpurzngvp bs gur onl naq n cbhpu bs Pragnhev qhpngf va zl dhnegref.”

Ybaqb: “Pra-gnu-ev?”

Tnevonyqv: “Pra-gbe-v.”

Ybaqb: “Cb-gnl-gb?”

Tnevonyqb: “Cb-gnu-gb.”

Ybaqb: “Gb-znl-gb?”

Tnevonyqv: “Gb-znu-gb.”

Ybaqb naq Tnevonyqv (fvatvat): “Yrg’f pnyy gur jubyr guvat bss!”

[nonbayanary]

EDIT: hirusena apocalypse AU where demon!hiruma and skeleton!sena raise the ghosts of their parents (who died as mere children in alternate timelines)

title: “Wasteland, Daddy! (I’m in Love with You)”

title is based on Hozier’s song titled, Wasteland Baby!

sena and hiruma used to be humans. the apocalypse mutated the remaining survivors of humankind, turning them into supernatural beings. 

years into the future, mutants started dying out due to the toxicity of the atmosphere. those who survived mutated further, retaining beastly characteristics.

hiruma calls himself, “a devil.” it’s technically true, based on the characteristics of his body’s own mutation. for years, bones have sprouted from his back, gradually covered by flesh, to make strange, bat-like wings. a tail started forming as well, thin and whip-like and pointed. the flesh peeled away from his hands, revealing the bones underneath. and slowly, the bones rearranged themselves to form claws, covered by a thick, black flesh. all hiruma’s mutated body parts are colored black, with red streaks here and there.

sena, however, was not so lucky. the years were cruel to him, as the flesh disintegrated from his bones. his form is now naught but a walking skeleton with long, flowing hair attached to his head. with each year that passes, nothing betrays his age, except for the growing number of grey streaks in his hair. he is but bone and hair, held together by his own magic.

strangely enough though, sena is only one of the few beings who can actually wield magic. and of all the mutants, he is the most powerful one.

the prevailing theory among mutants, before most of them perished, is this: the more magic a mutant has, the less they will resemble a living being.

hiruma’s magic is limited to his own body. he can fly with his new wings, and he can move his tail as if it were a fifth limb. his claws are sharp and deadly. but his magic all about ends there.

sena’s magic, meanwhile, is like a bottomless pit. his existence proves the mutants’ theory, for he practically looks dead, for all intents and purposes. if sena did not move at all, then he would be mistaken for human remains.

hiruma tries testing the limits of his power, and it backfires. in a bigass explosion, he accidentally tears off a chunk of what remains of the continent, and yeets himself into space as a result.

sena is left oh, so alone, and yet he knows hiruma is not dead. he knows. because hiruma doesn't need oxygen anymore. and hiruma doesn't need warmth either. no, the vacuum of space is something hiruma can survive.

but the dilemma is: sena doesn't know how to bring him home. even with magic, sena's still having a hard time bringing hiruma back to earth.

centuries pass. sena has tried everything from the tethering of souls, to magnetism via magic. and still, hiruma is out there in space

all the other mutants have died now. and the mutation of the remnants of the human race have left them unable to repopulate

sena is now the lone survivor of an apocalyptic future. however, he doesn't think he's the last one. because somewhere out in space, he can feel hiruma's soul still calling to him.

sena's flesh and organs have all but succumbed to time, but his magic and his determination to live keep his form together

his long brown hair is decorated with flowers, kept alive by his magic as well.

with sena’s powers, he created a realm called "deimon," as a tribute to hiruma. it’s a pocket dimension that sena created. a wasteland materialized through sena’s sheer force of will alone. 

and it is in deimon where sena resides. 

sena gets lonely. of course he does. he's the last thing living in the planet. nothing else but land and plants and debris remain.

so sena gets busy. he focuses on developing his magic. after fifty years, he made the plants of earth start growing again. after a hundred years, he made a pocket dimension. after two hundred years, he learned how to travel through alternate dimensions.

and because sena is lonely, he visits all the alternate dimensions where his loved ones exist. he never stays though, never shows himself, because he doesn't want to rip the space-time continuum.

but the one thing that never fails to catch sena's attention are the universes where his own parents die at a young age. mere children, the whole lot of them.

and sena can't help but notice that in most universes, the lives of his parents, Kobayakawa Shuuma and Mihae, always intersect with the lives of Hiruma's parents, Hiruma Yuuya and Yoshiko.

In most universes where all four of those people survive, they always meet and become friends.

but some universes aren't so lucky. sometimes, one of them dies. and it tears at sena's heartstrings so much.

so sena starts adopting ghosts of his parents who died when they were young. soon, not only that, but he starts adopting the young souls of hiruma's parents as well.

sena knows how strange it is. a skeleton adopting ghost-children. and yet, he can't find it in himself to leave them, because this is how he gives thanks to his own parents, who have long passed. this is a guilt-filled apology to hiruma's own set of parents, who are probably writhing in their graves bcs of their lost son.

(and sena knows guilt is a terrible motivator, but by god, he owes so much to hiruma's parents, as much as his own parents. if he can't apologize to hiruma's parents, then at the very least, he can save their alternate timeline, child counterparts)

sena's one source of despair is that he's powerful, and yet he can't do the one thing he wants most. he's now skilled enough to create pocket dimensions, travel to alternate timelines, regrow the plants on earth even without animal life as a means for pollination, and yet—

and yet, he can't even bring hiruma home.

that is, until sena gets a brilliant idea. the solution was so easy that it hadn't even occurred to him.

what if sena tries to summon hiruma, through a demonic summoning ritual?

this solution wasn't available to sena before. mostly because other demons and devils still lived. if sena did this earlier, then he would have summoned other beings by accident, because by nature, demonic rituals aren't specific.

but now, only one demonic entity remains. only one devil lives. and it's hiruma.

so sena tries. he kneels on a summoning circle, and with every single ounce of his magic, his being, his soul, he reaches out to the universe and pulls.

the skies tear open violently, and a flaming meteor comes howling into the firmament. sena squints, giddy and hopeful and so, so reckless, that he just watches with open arms at the silhouette of an unconscious body in the center of the flames.

and three seconds before it hits sena, and blasts a kilometer-wide crater into the earth, sena sees spiky blond hair, and large, bat-like wings.

sena catches the body, even as the earth crumbles, even as the winds shriek, and even as the pocket dimension tears. because for the first time in centuries—

"you're home, hiruma-san. you're finally home."

when hiruma, after being nursed back to health after years of accidental exile, meets the kids that sena's adopted, he is absolutely gobsmacked.

a child barrels into sena, startling the skeleton. 

sena blinks, the astonishment on his face morphing to a nervous smile as he crouches down to the child’s eye level. “hey there, yoshi. there’s someone here to meet you.”

hiruma’s breath stops. his heart thunders in his chest. the chibi just called the child, “yoshi.” 

that nickname... 

could it be?

“hey, fucknut!” the child yells, interrupting hiruma’s thoughts. she kicks hiruma in the shin, and grins at his startled expression. “i’m yoshiko. and don’t you forget it! who in the jesus cuntass fuck are you, huh?”

“language,” sena says automatically. then he laughs awkwardly at the weird look hiruma gives him. 

sena clears his throat. “yoshi, hon, this is hiruma youichi. and hiruma-san—”

“the fuck?!” yoshiko harrumphs, pointing an accusatory finger at hiruma. to sena, she asks, “why the dogshit politeness? why are you calling him ‘hiruma-san?!’ who the fuck even is this dickwad?”

sena blanches at all the profanities, but hiruma doesn’t even seem to notice. he just stares at the child in both fear and wonder. and sena understands why.

sena gently pats yoshiko’s head. “hiruma-san is older than me, yoshi. and he’s not a bad guy, so please tone down the animosity a little, okay?”

yoshiko tilts her head, an evil gleam in her eye. “if i listen to you, then what am i gonna get out of it, sen-sen? candy? i want bubblegum! or maybe a deck of cards!”

the floor lurches from beneath hiruma’s feet, even as he stands stock-still. the child’s words confirm the suspicions forming in his mind. 

yoshiko’s face lights up at the idea of a reward for her own good behavior. her expression morphs into a calculating sort of hopefulness. before sena can reply, she forges on, “or maybe guns! i want some cool guns!”

hiruma stares at the child. he stares at her short, spiky hair, and her ears as sharp as his. when she speaks, tiny fangs peek out between her crooked teeth. 

and now, hiruma knows for sure—

yoshiko...

this child is hiruma’s mother.

and judging by the child’s slight translucent form, she’s dead. hiruma’s chest tightens. in another universe, hiruma was never born because his mother died young. 

this was actually based on an original story i was conceptualizing during my college years. but if y’all wanna write this, please feel free to do so—granted that you credit me, if you please. i don’t often ask for credit, but as this is based on my original story, this one is an exception. thank you so much!

[wild-houseplant]

Hello my wonderful and lovely friend!!! I come, as I am wont to do, with questions for splendidissima Rhodri from the OC Codex prompts:

2. a letter written by your OC’s family member

3. a report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor

4. a letter from your OC to their love interest

Now, I don't know if you will spend these days celebrating or not, but they seem to be busy days for anybody regardless. Please take as much time as you like and pick whichever tickle your fancy. And have some lovely, lovely days. Off I go!

OH HI HEY ! 8D 8D Good to see you and thank you for sending in the prompts!! I had such a great time with these, both of my braincells were working overtime and it was a joy!

Owing to spacing and the sheer volume of the answers I'm sticking all this under the cut. I'd apologise but we both know I don't mean it x) x) x)

so o o o 2. A letter written by your OC's family member Here's one from Rhod's younger brother, Owen. Heirs aren't allowed to have favourites, but suffice it to say she and Owen had easy and natural compatibility. He was nine-ish and Rhodri would've been twelve.

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTANI SPIRI (“From the desk of Spiro Callistanus”). At the top right of the page, the date 13 Justinian, 9:22 Era Drakonis is added in the same wobbly runic script in the rest of the letter. The language of writing is Tevene.

I love you Sēvē,

My birthday was good but sad without you, and thank you for my greenhouse. Mazarin and Evander aren’t allowed inside because they break everything now. Bethann sits with me in there sometimes but not for long. 

School is hard but Tata says it gets easier with time. When you come back we can go together. I think that would make it better. Mazarin and Evander are too loud and they don’t sit with me any more. Do you know any plant spells? Please write all of them down so I can learn them when my magic comes. And please tell me your favourite three plants. Mine are ivy, snake kiss, and butterleaf.

Please write lots more soon.

And I love you, from Owen your brother.

-

Author's notes:

Callistanus- ‘of’ House Callistus, the name given to non-heir family members. An heir is the house, the non-heirs are the members of said house. ‘Callistani is Callistanus in genitive (possessive- I know you know this; clarifying for other potential readers) case. Owen's Tevene name is Spiro, Spiri in genitive form.

The Callistanus/Amell kids did not cope well with Rhodri being taken to the Circle. Not least because they were an arm’s length away when the Kirkwall Templars were beating her to a pulp.  Mazarin and Evander, who already tended to be loud and demanding, became destructive and disruptive, and both of them developed explosive tempers that proved hard to pacify.  Bethann, the youngest and most sensitive sibling, suffered frequent meltdowns that required many years to identify causes for and address.  Owen, the middle child, was always quiet and courteous. The adults in his life, amid attending to his louder, needier siblings, frequently ‘checked in’ on him, and they would have used all the resources they had to attend to any need he might have, but if he said he was doing fine (he always did), they left it at that and assumed he was content to keep to himself. Rhodri had always made a point of keeping him by her side and giving him plenty of one-on-one attention even if he was ‘fine,’ and he soaked that up like a sponge. After she was taken away, though, and the other siblings proved to be very squeaky wheels, there was nobody to fill the gap in those childhood to early teen years. Owen ended up rather neglected, and horribly lonely, and hid it, even lied about it, to everyone but Rhodri for years. Consequently, Owen tends to have a low opinion of himself, and is disinclined to seek out something, however badly he might want it. He does a lot better once Rhodri's back, and certainly once his folks found out (to their unrestricted horror) how neglected he had felt, they did their darnedest to make it up to him as well. But Rhod's return was really what cemented that improvement.

§

On to 3. a report written by your OC's teacher and mentor

I liked this question because I like the idea of there being a very specific, Chantry-determined format to a progress report, filled with formalities that ostensibly show some level of "civility" between the Templars and the mages. Plus, grading system? How do the mages measure success? So many questions!! Thank you for making me think of the answers!! -

The paper is bleached, blank vellum of middle to high quality, with the standard Circle progress report template already written in with black ink. Irving’s handwriting is a neat cursive that is no longer taught in the Circles. -

Date: 7 Eluviesta, 9:21 Dragon

Tutor name and rank: Irving, F.E.

Apprentice name; age; specialisation: Rhodri S. C. Amell// 10 y.o.// Arcane Magic

Progress report number, AYTD: 2

Presenting compliments to the Knight-Commander and having the honour to report:

Following the discovery of lyrium affliction in early Verimensis 9:22, Rhodri Amell has completed three months of compensatory meditation and distraction management training. Spellpower has improved significantly, as has spell duration (Max. 4; 10s per HS); mana inefficiency has also decreased (less est. 2.5, now 5.5). Continuation of the program recommended indefinitely.

Despite her progress, Rhodri’s temper outbursts are increasing in frequency during lessons proper. I reiterate to the Knight-Commander my suspicion that these arise from the elemental damage and consequent pain in her hands from unsafe proximity to trained mana, particularly as her affliction prevents her from wearing the requisite enchanted safety gloves. As per my last reports, I strongly recommend that my apprentice be permitted to use a sylvan branch staff to prevent more of the same; responding to outbursts with punishment has proved manifestly unhelpful and I continue to urge its cessation to the Knight-Commander with the greatest emphasis.

I note that Rhodri continues to tutor beginner students in her free time. E. Delilah has anecdotally mentioned better performance in this cohort in comparison to Delilah’s previous cohort, and has advised willingness to allow my apprentice to shadow her for some classes. With assistance in managing the change in schedule, I anticipate further progress for all concerned.

Reiterating assurances to the Knight-Commander of my highest consideration.

Irving, F.E. 

-

Author's notes on abbreviations and measurements - AYTD: Academic year to date - Spellpower scale is from 0 (not casting) to 10 (Destruction of a single room - HS- healing spell (in this case spell duration measures how long the intended effects persist until the spell is cut off or wears off on its own) - Mana inefficiency scale measures how much unformed mana escapes when a spell is cast, from 0 (no mana lost) to 10 (all, or almost all mana escaped). .

§

And 4: A letter from your OC to their love interest!

The author's notes are long so I'd better just get to it:

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTI SEVERIN (“From the desk of Severin Callistus”). At the top right of the page, the date 11 Pluitanis, 9:35 Era Drakonis is written in sharp, austere letters, as is the rest of the content. The language of writing is Common, with the exception of the tercet, which is in Tevene.

Dulcis,

I pen this letter to you with all my love and, in adherence to the conditions set by your challenge:

I admit that I stand corrected: pickpocketing is very difficult and is not “something I could do as easily as blinking.” (I will say, however, that hiding grapes in the pocket you were keeping the coins was entirely unnecessary. It feels like those bastard Void fruits are hiding everywhere, now.)

With great embarrassment, I enclose a reproduction of the tercetus I so foolishly admitted to writing and frankly, my love, I am starting to think you organised this whole bet so you could get your hands on it.  . In vitae finite stabit Formator ton, et querisit "A Incredule, quemisi exultum mihim offerti?" Et respondit humilite, "Ton Zevran, Sanctus amade" .

I must say, my love, I’m enjoying writing to you even though you’re right beside me. I think I’d like to do this more often– though hopefully with fewer tercetae. Maybe I could hang short missives off your Friday flowers. What do you think?

Also, please let me know if you would like to go to the Sidereal Telescopium tomorrow. Quirina is giving a speech on the upcoming New Constellations Room, and I have many questions for them.

My whole heart to you,

Severin (Rhodri). -

Author’s notes:

Tercetus- a traditional Tevene-style three-line rhyming poem.

A rough translation: At the end of life I will stand before your Maker, and he will ask me "You, Unbeliever, tell me– what worship did you ever offer me?" And I will say, simply and earnestly, "Holy Immortal, I loved Your Zevran."

Rhod’s got a complicated religious life. She started okay; the family wasn’t especially pious but they did Chantry things at the frequency considered respectable. Once she landed in Kinloch Hold, though, her prevailing question, for which never received a satisfactory answer, was: “If the Maker can do anything, and He loves us, why does he let us suffer? I wouldn’t do that, and I’m a child, nto a god.” After Broken Circle, she refused to believe the Maker existed, as a consolation to herself, and to avoid the sort of vengeful blasphemy that gets you hung, drawn, and quartered. There’s something about Zevran’s patient faith, though, and his willingness to offer thanks that he has what he has, however miserable his life has been. It’s impressively staunch, and Rhodri admires that, and treasures the comfort it brings him, enough that she slowly comes around to her idea of a compromise. Said compromise is acknowledging that if the Maker exists, He is as capable at unleashing bitter cruelty as He is at creating boundless joy. Rhod’s not one to praise bad behaviour in anyone, let alone a god who should know better, but by golly He did everyone a good turn when He made Zevran. Maybe age will bring other wisdom, but for now, she lets her love for Zevran be her tentative worship, because it’s the only praise she can offer in earnest. Though idk, what better compliment is there for a creator than someone wholeheartedly adoring their creation?  I like to think it’s enough for the time being. A religious journey isn’t always straightforward but I always found that complications bring their own insights.

I have no idea why Rhodri signs off her letters to Zevvo as ‘Severin (Rhodri).’ They agreed early on never to use the Tevene name to avoid the ridiculousness that comes with similar-sounding names (it gets especially bad when the siblings give him the Tevene-ised nickname Zēvē when they’re already calling Rhodri Sēvē. Agony!) Same deal with Owen signing off letters to her as “Owen your brother”. Must be hereditary.

Also I'm not sure about how ok it is to use Artbreeder generated images what with the art theft things going around now (I'm not sure where it stands on that sort of thing) so I'll leave out the artbreeder portrait I have of Owen. For a face claim, though, this feller here is pretty close (though I grant you Simon Wood is unlikely to be 9yo in this gif). Token ginger of the Amell-Callistus brood, what's up!

[sir-aror]

Originally, Oblivyon School was for the worst of the worst, for all those students who couldn’t keep up with regular classes. In addition to teaching like any other school, the teachers treated everyone like idiots.

That was until a couple of centuries ago, when a new charms teacher arrived, and in a debate with a student, an argument arose:

“Why do we have to learn so many rules when it’s magic? It’s freaking magic; non-magical people make it sound more fun than it actually is.”

The teacher wondered the same thing and accidentally discovered something: those equations and processes were for those who needed to calculate things. But when someone could imagine how it looked, sounded, tasted, felt, and smelled, it became much easier.

For example, the fireball. Normally, they teach you to calculate distances, circumferences, and thermodynamics before you can cast that spell, but with the new process, it was just a matter of thinking “to hell with that thing in front of me” and imagining what the fireball looks like, feels like, smells like, tastes like, and sounds like.

That made learning spells faster, in proportion to how quickly someone could imagine themselves being able to do something.

And now, he has to compete against typical mages?

He’s a damn teacher, and from here he can see how his students are going to wipe out the competition.

The Drugmar sextuplets each dominate an element completely. Aror controls fire and loves creating weapons made of chemical or ghostly flames. Lonar manipulates ice and can fall asleep while creating a seven-layer ice dome because he is bored waiting to someone too destroy it. Marin can use lightning or electricity, and her favorite spell is literally something she calls “Celestial Screw You.” Zack controls water and specializes in healing magic, but even he admits how terrifying it was when he discovered how to create new nerve endings or overload them with garbage signals. Veria uses earth and loves channeling her magic into her fists to prove she can hit as hard as an avalanche. And little Lily uses her control over air for everything; her minimal response to an annoying person is a tornado.

Jack and Valerie both master energy manipulation magic, but they went in opposite directions. One uses energy to make himself faster, and the other to become stronger and more resilient. Every fight between them is the paradox of the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object, so at the very least, there’s always an explosion.

He hates the days when Alex and Meg decide to wreak havoc, and between the former’s gravity magic, the latter’s transmutation magic, and a bit of portal magic from both, they create scenes that make no sense. Once, he had to walk along the walls to reach a door in the ceiling that led him to the bathroom, only to find it was out of order. He then had to run in who knows what direction and dimension to find another in time.

As much as Gharu wants to say he’s the most harmless... no, he’s not. Not when, despite being a mage, he’s half-obsessed with common technology and created a branch of magic for its manipulation and control. And he doesn’t want to know anything about Titano until he’s at least drunk—because that robot is not adorable; it’s a walking metal fortress capable of grabbing a dragon as if it were a big cat.

Well, it’s not like he has many excuses, not when his magic is the basic lightning or mana projectile. But he’s mastered summoning seals and magic circles capable of replicating that spell to the point that he alone can fire as many projectiles as an entire naval army.

And that’s without counting Jin and his necromancy, Gery and his transmutation, Holly and her plant control, John and his pseudo-immortality, or Fred and his omnidirectional vision.

And the rest of the students are just as crazy.

He can’t wait to see the faces of disbelief from the other teachers at different schools or those so-called elites.

You go to a magical academy where they promote practical and combat magic over the standard hyper complex and over the top spells that are standard and for the first time ever your academy will participate in the imperial academy tournament

[fumikomiyasaki]

(For the marrying the wrong person prompt) Emma getting arranged to marry another celebrity and Kyosuke crashed the wedding (with Greg and Peko's help) since he can't bare the thought of her being unhappy with someone who's only using her for status. Or Rubina's family forcing her to get married and before the wedding even starts Metaron shows up to whisk her away while Kira's distracting everyone with party tricks.

I Object!

And here she thought she could break free from her clutches but her mother still had control over her... she wanted to pack her things and flee but right away her mother did not give her any chance... after all she knew what kind of dirt her mother could pull on her to make it hard to show her face ever in public again...

It felt like she was trapped similar to the past... her eyes were empty walking in that pretty dress as the whole press and cameras put an oppression on her... Emma just walked on... giving up on it all... untill suddenly it sounded like the door behind her shattered... like a light that guides you to freedom... seein Kyosuke Gregory and Peko stand there her empty eyes suddenly got their light back.

"Objection! The bride did not agree to this wedding!"

"Ya better listen up or this could be bad, ya know!"

"Thats right.... No doom and gloom, we only accept adorable wanted weddings!"

The groom next to her seemed annoyed but Emma used this opportunity to kick him in the knees and walk off to Kyosukes side... pulling him in her arms.

"I am glad you came."

"EMMA! YOU COME RIGHT BACK HERE!"

The yelling voice was her mother but as she wanted to object suddenly some more faces stepped into the church... the whole of her sisters getting Meridith Yuki to suddenly grow quiet as Sylvette spoke up.

"This is the woman who forced her daughters into Idol hood for her own gain... its good we came in time."

The reporters grew excited and all talked out of order, most of them wanting answers from Emmas mom ... while Emma herself embraced each of her sisters and thanked Peko and Gregory before going back to Kyosuke.

"You really kept your promise... that you won't ever let me face her alone."

"I should have been there earlier when you were talking with her."

She shook her head.

"I told you to stay out... I just didn't know she would go this far.... but thanks to everyone you brought here... we can prove her wrong... and I can finally be free of those chains."

Her hand linked with his as she leaned up and whispered.

"And maybe one day I will be your bride instead."

His face turned deep red as she chuckled. For now she knew hte reporters would be swarming her soon... to ask the truth... the whole truth she had to hide for this long.

She knew this day would come and she hoped till then she actually would have found a prove plan to go against her parents and not wed any of their suitors... yet talking it out with them was the wrong decision... again she was nothing but a bird in a golden cage... only there to look pretty....

The ceremony was arranged pretty quick, as she wore a feathery white dress. Yet she hoped to actually have her own plan... to make her escape once the ceremony starts... however she was suprised as suddenly the door opened and many gasped in surprise... but moreso who walked into the altar...

A sudden bubblegum like explosion filled the room as Kira walked in like they had a full circus with them... many were amazed by the small magic bursts that would happen as suddenly something grabbed Rubinas hand...

As she opened her eyes again she saw Metaron covering her mouth and hiding behind a plant with her.

"Hush... I will get you out of here."

"You-" Tears started running down her face seeing him... she was relieved enough and had to hug him.

"Actually you can hold on tight, I might have found an escape route."

Quickly he picked her up and walked down one of the hallways in the back to open the window and make a swift escape through there ... given Kira a signal to cover up the room with fog... before escaping as well... Rubinas parents desperately looked for her while her Suitor sat down in disbelief what just happened....

Metaron and Kira brought her to a small airship they parked.

"I know now.... there is no turning back... but where am I supposed to go now.."

"You can stay with us right?"

Her eyes had a small shimmer in them... whiping away the tears from previously she showed them a smile.

"It would make me happy... I... never want to go back there..."

Both of them made sure to calm her as she was still a bit shaken up... after all she experienced the nightmare of this situation before... at least now she was finally a free bird out of her cage.

[signaturedish]

No, no, please never stop! I loved reading that and it's all true, lmao. I always seem to find the 'con that needs some quiet company or something I can do to help. I'm also 100% Going To Climb On Tallest Thing. Especially if it is a bot. Ratchet is the only Autobot I like. I taunt Ironhide, his frustration is too fun. Optimus is Tall Thing, not Autobot. The other 'cons finally realize I'm not their secret when I scramble out of Starscream who just went on a flight and... 1/2 - Optical Admirer

... climb onto Megatron in the middle of a meeting after avoiding Starscream's attempt to corral me to his berth. All of them try to stop me and freeze when they realize it is Too Late. I'm on Megatron's head. Then Megatron notes that QuickPatch is his squishy. Starscream mutters that HideFlight is my name, not QuickPatch. An argument ensues between a lot of them over which name is mine. 2/2 - Optical Admirer

Ahhh , that’s too cute!

Omg these are all such potential disasters.

Optimus has never been so close to so many frothing Decepticons aiming every single weapon of their arsenal at him without being actively captured or damaged in some way.

He’s just kind of quietly marveling at the moment while his troops are shaking apart with stress in a corner. Maybe also whispering pro-Autobot propaganda to you even tho you haven’t processed a single word he’s said as meaningful speech.

Eventually someone will start a betting pool on whether you understand he’s sentient, but no one’s sure who it was.

The Decepticons are just daring him to move while you’re eyeballing the top of his head speculatively. Megatron has been personally screaming threats and demands across a comm link while completely ignoring all of Optimus’ tired and reasonable reassurances like ‘Megatron, why on earth do you think I’d crush a human? You were there when I cried over that ant hill, right?’.

When the worst kept Decepticon ‘secret’ came out, Starscream had tried trapping you against his berth with an energon cup and a holopad like a goddamn spider. And you saw the set up he intended to leave you in- blankets? Stuffed animals?? No high places at all??? Measures had to be taken.

So you switch bots. Right in the middle of the meeting to make that statement pop. Look guys, you say without speaking, look at how much I don’t want to hang out with Starscream. Better think about that before trying to trap me on a hatefully low surface.

“Hideflight, no!”

Megatron watches with wide optics as you scamper up his arm like a mountain goat. He doesn’t know why you’ve so foolishly revealed yourself to his incompetent minions, but he’s already automatically placing you on the relatively level top of his helm. You do love napping there while he sketches out battle plans.

Just to be safe, he switches off the PowerPoint projection he had blown across every screen in the base and instead selects a digital file with a close up image of your face from his memory banks.

Your fleshy pink face is smudged with grease and you’re mid sentence and smiling cheerfully, jabbering about how pretty his red eyes are while carefully searing frayed wires off for him. It is a most pleasing image, one he believes highlights his pet’s finer qualities.

“This is QuickPatch,” he growls out, danger putting an engine edge in his announcement, “She is mine and unless you’d like your miserable lives to end right now in the middle of a monthly maintenance review you will not-“

“He means to say Hideflight is her designation,” Starscream mutters across the basewide speakers.

Soundwave finally has a proper target for his frustration, he rounds on Starscream, “Incorrect. Gadget has already been successfully programmed to respond to her true designation.” He’d spent so many small sugary human treats in pursuit of that endeavor.

“Her designation was Thunderdash first!” Thundercracker snapped.

The ensuing argument lasted three days, you couldn’t care less but played along anyways because the bribing was truly outrageous.

You secret nest exactly way too high up in the base now has fairy lights, twenty pounds of scrap metal, and three Cybertronian engineering textbooks.

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Little Mouse;; PSH

Word Count;; 2.4k

Genre;; Yandere + Smut

Pairing;; Seonghwa x Reader

Summary;;

You’ve escaped the toxicity of your past and greener pastures lie ahead… yet there’s a dark cloud brewing overhead, brimming with the promise of retribution. Sometimes it’s better to just give in and weather the storm.

Warnings;;

Dark fic!! Toxic!Seonghwa, abusive/loveless relationship, obsessive behaviour, reader is a sub, oral sex (m!receiving), degradation + use of ‘Daddy’, sadistic Seonghwa, threat of a belting, video filming w/ threat of blackmail, slight dacryphilia

Notes;;

Valentine’s Prompts : Cat and Mouse + Rose Petals

I’ve gotta post this so I can move on tbh

Second half went to shit because I was uncomfortable lmfao

My beta reader said, "Seonghwa is an asshole! He made me feel bad about myself!" so fair warning

Main Masterlist || ATEEZ Masterlist

   You met a boy a few weeks ago and he’s everything. From his dazzling smile to his kind eyes and his warm personality, he’s what many would consider ‘perfect’. When he calls you late at night it’s to hear you talk, not to summon you to his side. His gifts are the type you can show your family rather than hiding them within your closet. He even compromises. For the first time in years you’ve been given a voice. And the best part of it all is that he wants to go steady with you.

   As in your boyfriend.

   You, with a real, proper boyfriend. If only your younger self could see you now, living the life of a romance protagonist – grand gestures and all. He’s on the flashy side but it’s in good faith. No harm, no foul, even if sometimes it’s embarrassing when done in front of your coworkers and friends. At least he’s open with his feelings unlike your last… fling. You can’t even call it a relationship; he’d never acknowledged you as anything other than his little mouse.

   Clenching your hands around the steering wheel, you inhale fresh air into your tired lungs. Your exhale comes too soon, too fast. Inhaling deeper, you let loose the anger you have toward him. Not in an explosive outburst but with a gentle sigh. Negativity breeds negativity and you’ve had your fill. Good things are on the horizon for those who seek them out and you’re ready to reap the seeds of change you’ve sown. It’s only getting better from here on out, that’s what your life coach says, and this year it actually feels true.

   And so you had packed up your things, deleted his number, and met someone better.

   You’ve been born anew and given a second chance.

   Manifest your dreams.

   It’s a mantra (one of many taught to you through some online self-help program that costs more than your mortgage) that you repeat to yourself. Over and over the words loop inside your brain as you pull up to your house. The ‘spend money to make money’ has yet to prove true but you plan to add a garage once it does. For now you settle for parking in the driveway and going through the motions as you put up the sun shade. It darkens the vehicle, makes it cosier.

   Taking out your phone you check for new messages, brave enough to face the repercussions of your actions now that you’re alone and detached from the world. To your relief there’s nothing from either man. Perhaps he’s letting you go without a fight, maybe even moving on to his next toy. While that does alleviate some tension, it’s only temporary. Your stomach is quick to fold in on itself, stretching and contorting at the cruel realisation that you can’t ascertain just which of the two you wish the statement were true for.

   Brilliant streaks of purple and orange paint the sky as dusk approaches. If you stay in your car any longer, night will fall and the air will turn bitter. Grabbing your bag, you slip your phone back inside before walking up the narrow pathway to your quaint home. It’s nothing extravagant but it’s yours and there’s not very many things you can say that for. The porch features a rickety chair, two (dead) potted plants, a welcome mat that’s years overdue for a replacement, and… roses?

   Blood red petals greet you upon your approach. Most have blown away but some still linger, welcoming you home. Aside from the glass vase holding the bulk of the flowers, there’s some shoved in between the main door and the storm door. It’s just the buds, as well as a plethora of loose petals. In a way they beckon you to enter. Grabbing the vase, you indulge them.

   The petals tumble around your feet the moment the storm door creaks open. It’s a stark contrast; the ruby red dripping onto your fading black shoes is reminiscent of an artsy noir film. Despite the queasiness it invokes, you can’t help but smile. This is exactly the kind of outrageous display your (dare you say it?) boyfriend is prone to. Taking a deep breath, the sweetest aroma caresses you. It’s everything you could ever wish for.

   He’s everything you could ever wish for.

   You reach for your phone to shoot off a text to your boyfriend when a cold gust whips down the street. Violent and sudden, it steals several lawn chairs and flamingos, snapping them in half as they slam against cars and fences. The rose petals and their enticing fragrance are blown away without a trace. Picking up in velocity, the wind slams the glass storm door into your side, threatening you to go inside or face its wrath.

   Sometimes it’s best to relent and just weather the storm.

   Pushing open your main house door, you turn back to grab the storm door lest it be torn from its hinges. It’s a game of tug-o-war. Forced to abandon the rose vase on the ground, you dig in with your heels to get the upper hand on the torrential winds. Leveraging your body against the threshold, you apply what little knowledge of physics you recall from school to create a fulcrum between the wall and your knee. It does the trick and the door shuts with a thunderous crack. With no energy to fight further, you close and lock the house door as well.

   The house is plunged into darkness. Unlike the car, it’s not comforting in any way, shape or form. Even though it’s been your home for several months now, there’s something unnatural about the way the shadows sit. You toss your handbag into their hungry grasp. It thuds against the couch.

   While the storm has yet to reach peak levels of destruction, it may have still killed the electricity. You pray it hasn’t. Finding the switch through pure muscle memory and instinct, you flip it on and--

   Light floods your small living room. Licking up the length of your spine, shivers wrack your body into a tremor. Everything is red. In the seconds it takes for your eyes to adjust, you’re reminded of Seonghwa. He liked you best when you were red: red lips, red lace, red eyes, red cuts.

   Even when you distinguish the sea of red on your beige carpet to be roses, tears sting the corners of your eyes. This isn’t right. Petals litter your floor, lining a path up toward your bedroom. A pair of teddy bears await you at the top of the stairway. One is holding a rose while the other is made of roses.

   Step by step you make your way to the top.

   You don’t bother to wonder how he got inside. When Seonghwa wants something, he gets it. And who else but Seonghwa would go to this much effort just to torment you? Playing with your heart is a pastime he can’t help but indulge. Love is, after all, a game to him. You’re a game to him.

   Picking up the fluffy bear, you sniff the rose attached to its little paw. It’s pointless when the whole house smells this way but the action itself seems like something a leading actress would do before she smiles coyly at her beloved. You cradle the bear to your chest and continue toward the inevitable, following the path he so carefully laid out for you.

   The closer you get to your bedroom, the less fight you have. There’s a faint glow colouring your door in orange and flickering shadows. Despair weighs you down until all you can muster is the dragging of your feet along the plush carpet. Beyond the spattering of candles no doubt lies a punishment. It’s one you deserve, which makes the whole situation worse.

   Collecting the few articles of clothes he allowed you to keep at his place in the middle of the day with nary a note was a low-blow, even for you. And though you weren’t a couple, it’s still courteous to officially end a relationship you never plan to revisit. Blocking him on all your social media and changing your number wasn’t the right way to do it. Facing him head on, however, never felt like a viable option.

   With your hand on the knob, you look down to take a deep breath and regret it immediately. The candles are set up in the shape of a heart. Another display, another act. He’s meticulous and sadistic, and this is a statement. How’d you ever get tied up with such a monster? Not bothering to hold back, tears crawl down your face as you push open the door. At least now you’re bearing gifts - he always did love to see you cry.

   Sprawled out on your bed, he’s staring at the ceiling when you enter. His leather-clad legs are spread wide and his arms prop his head up. Disappointment twists his lips into a scowl. The effect it has - he has - on you is instantaneous. Dropping your head in shame, you close the door and take a step toward him, embracing your teddy bear tighter for support.

   Rising to a sitting position, he crooks his finger and beckons you forward. “Come here.”

   “Seonghwa, I’m sor–”

   “Quiet.”

   Your mouth clamps shut. Doing as he says, you cross the room in silence. He stands to shimmy out of his plain white shirt, abandoning it on the floor. The action leaves his hair tousled. As always, he’s a sight to behold.

   Clicking his fingers and pointing down toward his feet, he says, “Get on your knees.”

   “But–”

   “Now.”

   Ever dutiful to his command, you drop to your knees. The carpet does little to cushion your fall and a sharp jolt claws up your leg. You know better than to keep him waiting, however, so you ignore the pain in favour of unbuckling his belt. The metal is cold to the touch and your fingers tremble. While the design isn't intricate you struggle to remove it, earning an impatient sigh.

   "Fucking useless," he mutters, slapping your hands aside. "The only thing you're good for is sucking cock, isn't that right?"

   You nod as he removes the belt with deft fingers. Dark eyes glower down at your quivering form. Seonghwa has a way of tearing people apart with a single look – you've always felt so insignificant beneath him.

   Unable to hold his gaze, you drop your head. Just when your life was taking a positive turn, he had to stroll back into it. While you didn't know the 'how', the 'why' of his return was more pressing. Couldn't he find a new plaything to break? Why did it have to be you?

   Somewhere overhead comes the crack of his belt. It whips through the air and a small breeze rushes against your face. You flinch, falling back on your heels. Tears well in your eyes. At a pace much too slow for his growing impatience, you return your focus to Seonghwa.

   "Pathetic." He laughs. It's a venomous sound, filled with malice and malintention. "Hurry up."

   It's easier to work under great pressure; buttons and zippers are undone with little hesitation despite how bleary your moist eyes are. Smooth like marble, you pull his pants down his soft thighs. You don't bother to take them off completely, instead hooking your fingers within the band of his briefs. Guilt clenches at your gut.

   "Seonghwa, I ca–" You gulp when his eyes narrow. A scowl pulls at his lips as he shakes his head. The crack of his neck is ugly and violent. Gripping the belt buckle beneath paling knuckles, his spare hand tightens around the loose end, snapping the length into a thin line. "Daddy. I meant to s–"

   "God, I hate you," he spits, contempt seeping out from his every pore as he tosses the belt onto the bed. It's still within reach should he decide you need a punishment, a silent warning to keep you compliant.

   "I'm sorry," you murmur, biting back your sobs. From experience you know it annoys him more when you babble and whine, and while he loves torturing you to the point of tears, he despises hearing your 'cauterwauling'. "Sorry, I'm sor–"

   Pulling his cock free, he slaps it across your face. "Just shut up and suck."

   He tastes salty on your tongue. You take him deep, holding his thigh for support. When his cock hits the back of your throat, you wince. It’s too much. Tears spill down your cheeks. Your soft sobs vibrate around him and he groans, using his thumb to wipe the moisture from your face. He offers no respite as his hips piston forward. There’s no space for anything other than him, no room to breathe when he’s filling you completely.

   Looking up at him with heavy eyes, he’s a blur before you. One hand rests around your jaw, locking you in place while hollowing your cheeks. He holds something rectangular in the other. It gleams in the limited lighting, taunting you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you blink away the tears.

   “And I thought you had a boyfriend now?” he snickers, watching you through the screen of his phone. “Should I send him a little video? Show him how much of a slut you really are?”

   Your breath hitches. Using your stunned state to jut forward, he pushes his cock even deeper until you’re gagging around his length. He discards his phone on your bed before digging his nails into your scalp. Stinging pain explodes outward from his touch. Pushing through the ache of your jaw and the desperate burn of your throat, your tongue caresses him. Your technique is sloppy, drool leaking from the corner of your lips.

   Growing bored with your pathetic display, his foot tapping in quick succession, he releases you. You fall away, dropping to your hands as you sputter and cough. His cock shines with a thin veneer of saliva. Hard and proud, Seonghwa stands before you with a disdainful smirk darkening his edges. He strokes himself twice before snapping his fingers.

   “You’re not done, little mouse.”

   This time you don’t hesitate. You lick his pre-cum, tongue swirling around his tip before deepthroating him. It was your own naivety that led you here; deep down you’ve always known you couldn’t escape Seonghwa. There’s no point in trying – you belong to him. You moan around him, just the way he likes, and his hand finds purchase atop your head. Enclosing you within his palm, he pets you, the gesture almost comforting. Leaning into his touch, you suck his cock with fervour. His words are a purr that echo within your skull.

   "Guess my little whore still loves Daddy best.”

  – ♡ –  If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

The Liberty League Headquarters, the place where members of the Liberty League, Bea Grey aka Liberty Belle, Bishop Plutonium the second-in-command, Lucius Vreedle aka The Red Gunner, Ivy Layla Thrall aka Gardenia, and Chad Ferris.

Just like Liberty, they stand for freedom it stands for standing up from oppressive restrictions and stand for hope. Even though the Liberty League members are new beings thriving to become the symbols of hope. One certain member is clinging on to her former self despite not a child anymore.

In the garden, Ivy is working on the garden where she is growing things under suggestions by the children who came to the headquarters on the last tour. The task she is doing in the garden is harvesting. Ivy plucking tomatoes and put them in a cartel to give away to the Townsville's Soup Kitchen. Ivy hums as she plucks. Ivy is glad to see a familiar face in the last tour, Asahi Diaz, the daughter of Kimiko and Margo Diaz. She had not seen her since the attack, an explosion incident in Phoenix Academy that cause many students to lose their life and those who survive were left with trauma and a disability. She and Asahi are among them. Asahi losing her hearing, which was her mother's take Asahi out of that school, after almost losing their only child the second time.

As for Ivy, she lost her leg. Ivy looks at the botanical prosthetic she made with the help of her coven. The buds finally bloom, sprouting to reveal red roses. Though, her best friend’s cousins lose someone they hold dear. Denki lost Rui, his sidekick as a Phoenix Academy student who came to India from abroad. Ashanti with her friend, Marcy, a member of The Green Lantern Corp. It was so devastating for them that it negatively impacts their Chemical X Super powers. Being part human made of Chemical X and spices means you need to love as fuel to power you up and a important factor to your lifespan.

Ivy feels so sorry for the Deol Siblings that she sent gifts to them. The Deol Family is consider the bodyguards for their extended family, The Utonium Family, they deserve a reward for their efforts. To some people, it must be worrisome for Ivy to be concerned for her leader and best friend best friend who’s concerned for her cousins’ well-being. And what can she say, she is a kind and selfless girl who wouldn’t say no to her friend and her mom, who also happen to be her headmistress too, in taking a task for them and be there for them. Though it can be tiring sometimes. Scratch that, often since she is a trusted ally and prove her loyalty to them many time.

Ivy’s mind wanders off as she looks down at her prosthetic, when suddenly a presence of someone else came to the garden.

"Your garden is impressive." Bishop complimented.

Ivy turns to see Bishop. Ivy smiles at the Chemical X Alchemist. "Thanks."

Bishop notice that the tomatoes from the tomato plants are waving at him. He rubs his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating.

"Are the tomatoes waving at me?" Bishop asked startling.

Ivy nods in hesitate. She uses magic to grow those tomatoes in great prosperity. From watering the tomatoes with water magic, to using light magic as an alternative to sunlight, to using her plant magic as fertilizers. “Yeah, they do that. You should probably wave back. They get angry if you don’t.”

Ivy gulp as she saw the tomatoes glaring at Bishop.

Bishop waves the tomatoes around, heeding Ivy's warning. The tomatoes are docile now. Bishop notices Ivy.

“What can I do for you Bishop?” Ivy asked the Chemical X Alchemist. “Do you want me and Lucius to continue where we left off on our project?”

It is true that he has been going through some hiccups with backfiring on the user in the trial and error. But at least the execution is successful, just not effective in their design. The combination of his Chemical X-and-Earth Hybrid Alchemy, Ivy’s Witch/Wizard Hybrid Magic, and Lucius’ engineering skills to create their own abomination mechanic assets cannot perfect Abomination techs made by the Witch Magic and Engineering of Blight Industries from the Boiling Isles Dimension.

“Well, that is not important right now, Vice-Principal Sheldon Lee messages me if the report on the covens you investigated and researched is finished,” said Bishop.

Ivy nods as she manifested her report through magic, and giving her report to the second-in-command. Bishop accepts the report and reads it.

“Have you mitigated any issues in your involvement with the hero group, our classmates, on dealing with the vampire attacks, Ivy?” Bishop asked, flipping pages and scanning the paragraphs Ivy typed like a college student.

“Yes. If you turn to page 13, you will see that thanks to the increase of vampire-related deaths in Townsville, both at day and night, the witches in my coven decide to cut back on the production and conspicated enchanted amethyst and lapis lazuli jewelry for the vampires as the first step of distance themselves from them,” said Ivy, letting out a sad sigh. “A bad way to prevent vampire attacks. Honestly, these witches only looking after themselves since their reputation is at risk because the feral vampire attacks are affecting them, without thinking about the peace treaty. Although, I don't blame them because some of the victims are actually witches.”

Bishop is silent as he stares down at her report. Witch Enchanted Lapis Lazulis and Enchanted Amethysts allows vampires to walk into the daylight without perishing. Plus the peace treaty Ivy mentioned refers to the one made by the retired hero, Tormenta McKnight.

“I see, then perhaps that the witches that the feral vampires kills were faewitches?”

Ivy flinch when Bishop mentioned that term. Faewitches, humans who been granted magic from fairies through their loyalty to their patron fairy, whether if the fairy is a demoted Angel or a demon, fairy from this planet, or a day fairy/night fairy/dream fairy from their respective fairy dimension. Then she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. The witches have been involved with the war between fairies and vampires, taking any side that considers the winning side, until the World Dragon Council gets involved and stop the war to prevent the war from becoming a very tragic disaster spreading by more bloodshed, famine, and diseases.

“Exactly Bishop,” said Ivy. “You should submit this report to Vice Principal Lee, so he can pass it on to Captain America and Stella.”

A thud of sadness in Ivy’s heart when she mentioned her girlfriend, Stella. Bishop notices that Ivy is hiding something by her expression is shifting.

“Is something wrong Ivy?” Bishop asked.

“No, I’m completely fine.” Said Ivy.

“You sure?” Bishop asked again.

“Yes…” said Ivy.

Bishop looks at Ivy's eyes, he can see sparkles of light in her eyes but they look false. Her eyes reminded him so much of his eyes of his former self, when he was living with his mom. There must have been a layer of trauma and self-worth issues for Ivy. It cannot just only be the tragic fire incident at Camp Green Lake and the explosion incident in Phoenix Academy. For now, Bishop let Ivy be because perhaps, Bea knows about some things Ivy is going through. Ivy resume to plucking some tomatoes.

'That was odd.' Ivy thought.

~~

That night in Ivy's room at The Liberty League Headquarters, Ivy hold a rock at the palm of her hand. She clenched to the rock. Then she stares on her desk to what appears to be scrap metal.

“Geologize gemologize,”

A white glowing light emitted her hand, as she unclenched it. She transform a rock into a Persian Lapis Lazuli. Ivy use her hand to bend and shape the thick piece of metal into a ring. Then she cast a protection charm to the ring. It is done. She manifest a small portal and drops it in. Hopefully that she did a good job helping out the Utonium Family. Ivy leans back on her wheelchair. It looks like she needs to spend time in the garden again to destress. Though going shopping and having a spa day would have been nice, but then she remember to pay off her credit card debt the last times she went out shopping and taking spa days. Ivy let out a sigh. Another secret errand done for the Utonium Family. Ivy goes grabs her cellphone on her desk and opens up WhatsApp. She starts messaging her friend, Alice-Evans talking to her about her day, without spilling any confidential informations to The Liberty League and other topics. Then she close the app and calls her mother and father to keep them up-to-date about herself.

“You got the hang of walking with your leg prosthetic?” said Rose.

Ivy nods. “The doctor says I will be able to go back to swordsmanship as long as I practice my position, stances, and poses.”

“They are all the same thing though,” said Nigel.

“Oh…, yeah, you're right.” Ivy admitted. “So dad, are you and Mr. Long are going to attend the meeting with the vampire clans and the covens to discuss the dilemma? It is going to be serious, so it should be better to have professionals like you."

"Indeed Ivy. Hopefully Ambassador McKnight will be attending too."

Of course, Tormenta is responsible for the peace treaty between the vampires and witches.

As Ivy listens to his father talking, telling her what she need to do, Ivy turns her wheelchair around to see Bea. "Oh dad, I will have to calls you back. Bea is here. It's nice talking to you. Good bye."

Ivy hangs up and switch off her cell phone.

“Oh, hello Bea,” Ivy greeted, clutching her cell phone.

"Ivy, who're you talking to?" Bea asked.

"I was talking to my parents, especially my father related to the attacks of feral vampires in the city. I-I-I was going to contact Vice-Principal Lee afterward, about a meeting my father to see the witches and vampires with the Dragon Representative of America, Jake and one of the supernatural world's ambassadors.... May I also request him to attend for security watch?"

Bea thinks for a moment as she stares at her best witch friend. The leader wants to have a conversation with her, however seeing the efforts Ivy have put to help her girlfriend and her teammates, showed that she have a lot of plates in her hands. Maybe for another day.

"Sure, but on one condition," Bea accepted. "Only on the sideline, not in the frontline."

Ivy nod. "Okay," she said in a flat tone and giving her a thumb up.

Bea Grey (mentioned) and Stella Thorsdottir (mentioned) belong to @princess-lunalu

Ashanti Deol aka Ashanti Sharma (mentioned) and Marcy (mentioned) belong to @cooltmoney95

Lucius Vreedle (mentioned) belongs to @aprilbrowines

Bishop Plutonium, Chad Ferris (mentioned), Tormenta McKnight (Mentioned), and Rui Wakeman (mentioned) belong to @animeclub78

Ivy Layla Thrall, Sarah Bradley (mentioned), Asahi Z. Diaz (mentioned), and Denki A. Deol (mentioned) belong to me

Alice-Evan (mentioned) belong to @samahafiz2000

This writing prompt that help me builded this story is created by @givethispromptatry

“Your garden is impressive.”

“Thanks.”

“Are the tomatoes waving at me?”

“Yeah, they do that. You should probably wave back. They get angry if you don’t.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

Guilty Pleasures (Part 3)

I swear this is the last post of Guilty Pleasures! I just felt the need to spread the love around a bit! With that said please enjoy more wholesome robot hobbies.

Ultra Magnus

The Autobot's second in command has been widely regarded as stiff and by the book. His hobby unsurprisingly keeps to this standard.

Even before arriving to earth Ultra Magnus always enjoyed puzzles.

Anything that really put his mind to work could keep him occupied for hours at a time.

But once he got to earth he quickly became interested in the puzzles Raf brought to base.

It took a great deal of effort at first. Attempting to move the small pieces being a lot more effort than it was probably worth, but he persevered anyway.

However Ultra Magnus didn't really get into the whole puzzle thing until Wheeljack proclaimed he couldn't do it.

Suddenly doing puzzles wasn't a matter of interest, but one of pride.

He started with small puzzles in order to work on his dexterity, and then over the course of several weeks, worked his way up to thousand piece puzzles.

It only continued to escalate, with every completed puzzle not so subtly being shown to Wheeljack to prove that he most certainly CAN complete puzzles, thank you.

It became habit for him to set up the most complex puzzle he could find and try to complete it as fast as possible, a true challenge given the size of his servos.

The act soothes him and give him a well earned break from the stress of everyday life.

It also helps ease his anxiety when Optimus isn't around to calm him down on bad days.

Predaking

Predaking, the noble spark that he is, likes to read and listen to stories from ancient times.

Both Cybertronian and earth mythologies interest him greatly.

He has developed a deep respect for Primus, the Thirteen Primes, the previous Predaking, Arthur Pendragon, and the Norse Gods.

The deep set code of honor present in all the before listed entities keeps him positively enthralled.

He prefers to hear the stories from the most reliable sources, as such he goes to great lengths to find those with the appropriate qualifications.

He has listened to every reliable podcast on the subject of earth culture that he can get a hold of.

He has also in great secrecy, met up with Optimus just so he can listen to the older mech's stories.

No living mech knows Cybertronian history better than the Matrix bearer and former head Archivist.

And Optimus doesn't mind telling Predaking his stories, in fact, he finds it relaxing to speak to one who isn't tired of his tales.

Predaking likes to pretend that he is mightier than everyone else, but secretly he holds a great deal of respect for Optimus Prime, partially due to his excellent storytelling but also due to his prowess in battle.

When he isn't gathering stories from the Prime, Predaking goes to historical sights under the cover of darkness in order to see a glimpse of what earth might have been like during Arthur's age.

All in all it is a rather wholesome interest.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack doesn't have a hobby in the traditional sense.

Yes he likes explosives and building things, but he doesn't really do either of those things for his own benefit.

All of his skill and enthusiasm always end up being used to help some other bot enjoy their hobby to the fullest.

He prefers helping others ramp up their interests to amazing new heights, mainly to see if it is even possible.

His interference in Smokescreen's beetle battles being an excellent example of this.

But his meddling is also present in nearly every other Autobot's hobby as well, not just Smokescreen.

Wheeljack has experimented with Arcee's plants to see if it is possible make something like the pea shooter from plantsVSzombies.

Arcee was not pleased, but she also held a certain degree of morbid curiosity towards the bulbous abomination that came from Wheeljack's experiments.

Wheeljack also likes to assist Bulkhead in testing out his more wild conspiracy theories, building drones to sneak onto bases like area 51 to see if there really are other aliens in there.

Results on that front have been inconclusive as Agent Fowler and co have always managed to catch their drone before it could get far.

Ratchet has also found himself with Wheeljack's assistance as he has attempted to figure out human recipes.

Most of the time their combined brain cell ends up taking the instructions way to literally or to the utmost extreme.

What do you mean a pancake isn't supposed to be made of pans? It's in the name!

And the cookies aren't meant to lathered with fire? The recipe said to bake them at 350?! Why can't a blowtorch be used to speed up the process!?!

Their collective IQ decreases and increases simultaneously when they work together, leading to either ingenious creations or utter and complete chaos

As for Bumblebee, he sticks to simply competing with Wheeljack on game nights, he would rather not risk his PC blowing up.

And Optimus, well, Wheeljack quickly learned to never, EVER speak of the Prime's little hobby.

It is a secret he intends to take to the grave.

The Vehicons

The little goons are bored more often than not, as such they take great joy in pranks and recording the hilarious blunders that occur around them.

The Vehicons have developed an advanced communication system that links them all into a version of the internet reserved for them and them alone.

This communication wasn't devised for efficiency, no, it was created by Vehicon St3v30z, nicknamed Steve, for the sole purpose of sharing Starscreams many high pitched screams with the rest of the Vehicons.

It was immediately a hit among the troops and Starscream became a meme over night, not that he knew of course.

It just escalated from there, with different Vehicons assigned to different areas sharing their own recorded videos featuring the embarrassing actions of those in high command.

Soon of course, just waiting for funny things to happen wasn't enough for the Vehicons anymore. They needed more content, thus began the secret, and still ongoing, prank wars.

As a good chunk of the Vehicons are not in any position to record or play pranks they contribute to the cause by providing resources to the recorders.

Usually this just means they take their sweet time with assignments or vacate an area in order for a prank to take place.

This then is the perfect opportunity for the pranksters to get some good content.

A random pipe bursting and scaring the scrap out of Knockout? Hilarious, instant meme.

Arrows on the floor leading Breakdown to wander endlessly and in great confusion in a giant circle? Perfect, comedy gold.

Giant cardboard cutout of Megatron placed ominously around a corner to terrify Starscream? You know Steve was there to capture the marvelous shrieks.

Glitter bomb on Megatron? Pray that Soundwave doesn't rat the perpetrator out and enjoy the show.

Not even the Autobots are safe.

Poor Optimus has been left creepy notes from a supposed ghost, terrifying the rather religious mech and granting the Vehicons some satisfying pictures of the Prime's disturbed expression.

Ratchet has had glitter bombs thrown at him literally every single time he appears in fight. All Vehicons carry at least one so that should Ratchet turn up, they have the chance to hit him with it.

Vehicons who manage to get Optimus caught up in one of the glitter bombs are paraded as heroes privately.

As for the rest of the team? They get random troll messages often showing one of the Vehicons playing an kazoo or doing something equally irritating.

The Vehicons laugh at everyone else's expense.

Here it is! Done! No more! Time for new things and new headcannons! I couldn't think of anything for Arachnid and I don't know if I missed anyone else or not. Please let me know if there is any bot you want some headcannons for or that I missed.

[smtsmtblablabla]

Just because I haven't seen anything like this yet

Fate X Pjo AU

( not really a AU, I'll just share wich cabins I think they would be in)

Bloom: Hephaestus Cabin. Not just because of her fire powers, but also because she shows a very big interest in vintage stuff, in the first episode we can even see her sort of fixing a lamp? And also because she is very smart, a very common trait between a inventor God's kids. Having the main character being a demigod of a not sooo famous God is also nice.

Sky: Zeus cabin. I considered Athena's cabin too, but I think our golden boy is more fitting in the king of gods lineage. I think that it not only fits his story as a whole, but he sometimes reminded me of Jason, so... yeah Zeus cabin for him.

Aisha: Poseidon. Another one I considered putting in the Athena one, but for me her connection with the water is more prominent than her need to be the smartest one. How she relaxes while swimming, how despite being the most level headed she's a very explosive person too. A calm sea capable of great storms.

Stella: Apollo. The girl searching for perfection being the daughter of the God most related to perfection itself? It can't get better than this. Also her ligth powers that are so connected to her story and personality. Also, I personally think she is a ray of sunshine when she allows herself to be.

Terra and Flora: Demeter. Do I need to say more? Like, where else would I put those plant loving girls? Their sweetness and empathy only make this decision more obvious. Sam is there too.

Musa: Aphrodite. It only makes sense. Her connection whith emotions are a power fitting for a love goddess daughter and it also makes sense with her story. A girl expected to never be in a fight wanting nothing but prove everyone else wrong? Very cabin 10 of her.

Riven: Hermes. I almost put him in the Ares cabin but now I feel like it would have been a mistake. This boy's intelligence is bigger than his need for a fight and I don't see him as someone who thrives in violence and war. He has a witty personality, street smarts and how can we forget he is a "proper delinquent "? Hermes cabin all over.

Beatrix: Zeus. Lightning powers? Power hunger? A very troubled mind? A Zeus kid trough and trough.

Dane: I decided that he is one of the kids who are yet to be chosen, partially because i just couldn't fit him anywhere, partially because i think it suits him.

Kat: Artemis hunter.

[shoutogepi]

Entertainment

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

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”.

└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘

   ─── ・°* 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.

[eviltothecore13]

I CAN HELP! this might get long so I'm putting a readmore

OK so.

We know Gomez taught Wednesday sabre fencing--he doesn't seem to have been on the fencing team at Nevermore, but it does seem that--like every other version of the character--this one still likes to fence, and is good at it judging by how good Wednesday is (most versions are very good with both sabre and rapier--the 60s version is less good, ranging from OK to terrible depending on the episode, but the 90s version is amazing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCq5tfSGj28). We don't really see much of his fencing skill in this show so far--but I will say that being able to defend himself against someone with a sword for so long while armed only with a short piece of pipe proves that he IS a good fencer. Most real fights, and fencing bouts, have someone get stabbed MUCH sooner, while Gomez manages to parry several attacks despite not having a proper weapon. Apparently he will get an actual sword fight next season and I am looking forward to it.

Why was he not on the fencing team? We don't know. However, it is worth noting that the 60s version of Gomez was ill for most of his childhood and into his early 20s. So that could be part of it.

Gomez likes to dance--he's good at dancing the waltz and tango and does so often with Morticia, he's...less good at anything more modern and there's been a couple of very dorky moments...

What else is he good at? Knife-throwing, for one. I can't find a good clip but he's demonstrated some impressive accuracy, there's a scene in the 60s show with him and Morticia repeatedly throwing knives into the handle of the previous knife.

He likes explosions, this is a trait he shares with Fester, Wednesday and Pugsley. In particular he has a set of model trains and enjoys blowjng them up and making them crash.

Unlike Wednesday he's enthusiastic about technology, and is actually very good with it. In the 60s show he builds a robot and a computer, and is generally excited about any new tech. Not every version plays this up so much, but it's a trait of his I like.

Some versions of him always wear the pinstripe suit, but I enjoy the 90s films (and this trait carried over to the 90s live-action reboot show) where he has a lot of different suits and wears several different ones over the course of a film (sometimes seeming to change very quickly between scenes.) He takes quite a lot of care over his looks, and even the less conventionally attractive versions tend to view themselves as very good-looking. Netflix version seems to share that as the first thing he does upon getting out of prison is fix his hair.

He knows how to use a crossbow and is decent with it but not as impossibly skilled as Morticia. He's also used guns a few times--again, usually with decent aim except that one scene where he seems to be playing some kind of game involving missing on purpose? Morticia tends to be more the ranged weaponry one of the two of them on the whole, though.

He enjoys playing chess. How good he is...varies. Any scene of chess in the 60s show is total nonsense, but the 90s films show an accurate chess position with him about to beat Thing and seeming to be quite good (though Thing then tries to cheat when he isn't looking).

Favourite foods include yak meat and various other unusual meats and poisonous plants. In the 90s films, the Addamses also sometimes eat people--but only those who really have it coming (specifically their enemies/people who try to kill or oppress them). More kid-friendly versions tend to avoid the direct cannibalism references. The Addamses tend to find normal food boring (or in some versions, outright disgusting, but I'm going off the 60s show rather than the cartoons here and that tends more towards them just thinking stuff without poisons is bland), but Gomez seems to enjoy some normal food a bit more than some of the others? As a kid he liked black liquorice a lot, which is now one of Pugsley's favourite foods. When he's depressed in the 90s films he eats a lot of sugary stuff but in general none of the Addamses are that into sweet things. Gomez also likes to drink, either wine or various cocktails that sometimes also contain poisonous plants. If he's not drinking alcohol, it will be coffee or henbane tea: I suspect the concept of drinking water is unknown to him.

He smokes cigars--I don't recall this being shown much in the Netflix show, but then, he was on school grounds for a lot of it and in prison for some of the rest. Smoking doesn't seem to harm an Addams as they're generally immune to poisons.

When it comes to outcast abilities...the supernatural powers generally demonstrated by Gomez are a high tolerance for poisons and being generally hard to kill. He's survived jumping out of a plane without a parachute with only a few bruises, shrugs off electric shocks several times, and Fester apparently removed his brain in his sleep as a prank when they were kids (whether he put it back is...unknown, but in the 60s show there is an episode where Gomez gets amnesia from a blow to the head, which would suggest there's SOMETHING in there). He's not unkillable any more than the other Addamses--we don't know exactly what can kill them but it seems a bullet to the head or even a severe enough stabbing could potentially do it--and he's not immune to illnesses (the 60s version of him has had pneumonia more than once amongst other things). Other than that... well, he can pull lit cigars out of his pockets somehow, and he has an extra toe on one foot which isn't an ability but is an unusual trait. His ancestors include several witches, along with various pirates and outlaws. Wikipedia lists his species as "Human?" which I find hilarious. He also thinks the correct response to being bitten by a snake is to wrap the snake in a blanket so it doesn't go into shock.

The Netflix version of Gomez is a bit more soft-spoken than most others, but he's still clearly quite an emotional character, and some versions really play that up--he can go from incredibly happy to very depressed or vice versa quite quickly.

He tends to be very trusting, kind and generous, to the point of trusting people who he REALLY shouldn't, and he can forgive a lot from people. However that doesn't mean he can't be dangerous--he IS willing to kill people, though generally only in a fair and honourable duel (hence not considering himself a murderer) and he can be too honourable for his own good, refusing to be dishonourable even when his opponent is being very ruthless. In particular he has a rule of not attacking an unarmed person. Still, he has canonically killed at least one person over the various adaptations--his cousin who tried to kill him and also kissed Morticia without her consent--and he didn't feel at all bad about it. (He was also about to kill Tully in the first film but was interrupted...but he did look wonderfully murderous for a moment there.)

He's also extremely affectionate, not just with his family but with his friends--he has various unusual friends including vodou practitioners and other supernatural types, though most of them are only mentioned and never shown. When we do see him interact with an old friend about half a minute is spent on them hugging, it's quite cute. It's especially noticeable in the 60s show how he's contrasted against normie men...there's a couple of different scenes where a normie guy gets carried away when grateful to the Addamses for something, kisses Morticia's hand, then nearly kisses Gomez's hand before awkwardly stopping himself--whereas Gomez was smiling all through this and clearly didn't see anything unusual in the idea of a man kissing his hand, or even looking disappointed that the guy stopped. He's not afraid of being physically affectionate or expressing emotions with his friends to a degree that's more than what's conventionally expected.

He enjoys travel and adventure especially in places like Death Valley, and the Amazon Rainforest.

Finally, a note on his ancestry, because I've seen people saying "the Netflix show made him Mexican and he's always been 100% a white Spanish guy before!" and it's just not true: Gomez's ancestry has long been established as...very mixed. The Addams Family is a huge clan and it would be quicker to say where they're NOT from. The Netflix show establishes he has Mexican ancestry, he also has Spanish ancestry both in terms of family members who came to what's now the US from Spain hundreds of years ago and some more recent family members in Spain (the 60s version spent the first 5 years of his life there and at least partly identifies as Spanish, though self-describes as American at other points), possibly some Argentinian family members too judging by one 60s episode, and there's the occasional reference to ties to Amazonian Indigenous people as well (he has a blowgun and shrunken heads which are family heirlooms). Judging by some names of his ancestors he also has some Arabic/Arabic-Spanish ancestry, and we also know his mother is of partly French descent and his father of partly English descent. There's occasional hints to some Jewish ancestry, but probably fairly distant--we know he wasn't raised Jewish, as he grew up celebrating Christmas and Día de los Muertos (though he's not really a Christian either, considering his mother is a witch and the whole family have worked with demons and invoked Satan in rituals. Any Christmas celebrations we've been shown seem to be a fairly secular tree+wreath+presents thing, not heavily religious. Gomez seems to believe that some kind of god exists, but he doesn't seem to worship them, just to yell at them occasionally...and the Addamses all know full well that there's an afterlife, what with regularly communicating with ghosts, but it doesn't seem much like Christian Heaven or Hell. Though there is a reference that could be taken as to some kind of hell in one 60s episode, where Gomez mentions his "guardian spirit" and says "someone down there likes me". It's complicated.) He might have some Italian ancestry too. Basically, he's probably spent a lot of time in several different Latin American countries with different branches of his family, and you can definitely reference non-Mexican Latin American cultures with him without it being incorrect. (I don't think there's ever been a clear reference to Puerto Rico, interestingly, but he is played by a Puerto Rican actor in the Netflix show, and also in the 90s films.)

...well, this was an extremely long and disorganised ramble, and please don't feel obligated to read it all, but I get very excited about A) new fans joining the fandom, B) new fans wanting to learn about older versions, C) someone basically ASKING to be infodumped at. If you have any more specific questions--PLEASE do ask, I would love it.

Help with Gomez Addams please!

I’m working on a timeline for sone fanfic (am I really gonna dare…?) and I have an issue with one character : Gomez, none the less. The show has given us son little infos about him… We don’t know if he has any outcast powers, we don’t know what he’s good at… We know barely nothing excepts that he would do anything for his wife and he loves his children. We have no idea why he was even in Nevermore to begin with. Even when I try to dig with the movies and old tv show, I can’t find much except that he’s rich, he likes to throw his money, and he’s a terrible defense lawyer. With so little I find it hard to give him a proper place in the plot. I know other characters are in the same situation (Vincent Thorpe, Divina and Kent, etc.) but since they are new additions it seems easier to build something without risking an apocalyps… But Gomez has been a beloved one for years… and I feel I just know nothing about him!

Anyone with infos I missed? I really want to give him a proper place, not just the « I eat potpourri with my son while Morticia does all the job » position, but I just don’t know what he CAN do except being sweet!

Thanks a lot in advance for the brainstorm!