#day five: evil-doers

[candleshopmenace]

don't say a word.

SUMMARY

Present Mic frowns. “You cook dinner by yourself?”

“Yeah?” Katsuki tilts his head, confused. “Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Present Mic says, and he sets down his cup. “But I’m an adult. You’re eight.”

“I can cook!” Katsuki says. “And I bake really well, too!”

“Bakugou,” Present Mic says, and there’s something in his voice that makes Katsuki feel very small, “that’s not the point.”

—

Katsuki is pretty sure that there’s nothing wrong with his family. He doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to agree with him.

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[discord server]

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When Katsuki wakes up, the first thing he wants to do is go back to sleep. His entire body feels achy in a way that reminds him of what Auntie Inko called growing pains, and his head hurts, and when he opens his eyes he has to close them again because the lights are too bright. Plus, he’s tired. Which makes no sense at all, since he just woke up, but things rarely make sense, and so Katsuki is fucking exhausted.

From the doorway, someone says, “Bakugou? It's time to get ready to go, buddy.”

Katsuki cracks his eyes open and sits up, ignoring the way his stomach churns in favor of looking at Present Mic. “Where are we going?” he asks, blinking several times to make the room stop spinning. Everything looks weird, like it's smaller than it used to be, but he dismisses that as his mind playing tricks on him.

“Well, Eraserhead and I have to go to work,” Present Mic says. “We have to teach. I was thinking that you could sit in the teachers’ lounge until we’re finished.” Katsuki doesn’t know what expression he’s making, but he must look upset, because Present Mic quickly adds, “You wouldn’t be alone. All the teachers have different planning periods, so there’d always be someone to watch you.”

Katsuki frowns. He doesn’t need anybody to watch him. He can watch himself, and he’s even old enough to cook things on the stove at home! But he doesn’t say that, because he doesn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful that Present Mic is thinking about him, and it's not like he’d been asked a question or anything. 

When an adult said something to you and it wasn’t a question, that meant that they were telling you what to do. And if an adult was telling you what to do, that meant you had to listen, because they would get mad at you if you didn’t. It's probably twice as true for heroes, since they were really strong and could hurt you really badly if they felt like it, and so everybody had to listen to them. Even other adults had to listen to them. Katsuki doesn’t want to make Present Mic feel like Katsuki isn’t listening to him, and so he says, “Okay.”

Present Mic’s shoulders relax, like he thought that Katsuki would throw a fit or argue with him about something he said. “Okay?” he says, copying after Katsuki, and then nods. “Okay! Well, get dressed, and then we’ll go downstairs and get some breakfast, alright?”

Katsuki sighs. His head hurts, and he’s pretty sure that eating will just make it hurt even worse. It feels like there’s someone inside his skull, whacking at the space between his eyes with a heavy metal hammer, and he really doesn’t want to get out of bed but he does anyways. 

“Bakugou?” Present Mic asks, and, when Katsuki looks over at him, he sees that he’s frowning. “Are you feeling alright?”

Katsuki stares at him, wondering if it's a trick question, if he’ll get in trouble no matter what answer he gives. If it's a trick question, he needs to figure out which answer will get him into the least trouble, because his body hurts and his head hurts and his stomach hurts and he doesn’t know how many more things can hurt before he starts to cry, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing, crying as soon as he wakes up?

He must be quiet for too long, because Present Mic gives him that smile that people give when they don’t really want to smile but don’t know what else to do with their face. “Well, okay,” he says. “Sorry for waking you up so early, kiddo. I just didn’t think that you’d want to be left by yourself.” His eyebrows pinch together. “Do you want to be left by yourself?”

Without thinking, Katsuki says, “No!” He doesn’t know why he says it as quickly or loudly as he does, but then he imagines being left alone in this big building with all its hallways that he could get lost in, where anything could happen to him, and his heart feels like it's trying to beat out of his chest. Maybe he’ll get in trouble for being clingy, but he’d rather get punished for that than be stuck in an unfamiliar place, by himself, for an entire day. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Present Mic holds up his hands. “I’m not going to leave you by yourself if you don’t want me to,” he says. He sounds worried, which makes Katsuki feel guilty because he’s sure that Present Mic has bigger things to worry about than him. “I was just asking because you look tired. I could take the day off, if you want. You look like you could use some rest.”

… Is he trying to get rid of him? Is he that annoying?

Katsuki gnaws at the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. Should he agree to stay behind? Is that what Present Mic wants? Would it be selfish to say that that’s not what he wants? But why would Present Mic offer to take him along in the first place if he was just going to turn around and do the exact opposite?

Katsuki feels sick.

Present Mic clears his throat and Katsuki winces at the sound even as his head jerks towards it. He cringes further when he sees that Present Mic’s smile is even tighter than it was before. “I’m not trying to trick you, Bakugou,” he says, which is exactly what people say right before they try to trick you, but Katsuki doesn’t point that out because he’s seen what happens when he interrupts someone. “If you’re feeling unwell, I’d be willing to stay with you, since you don’t want to be left alone.”

Katsuki shakes his head. “It's fine,” he says. “I feel fine.” He hesitates, then braces himself and says, “I’d like to come with you.”

Present Mic is quiet for a moment, and fear floods Katsuki so fast that he feels like he’s fallen into a giant pile of snow. He did that once when he was six, and Auntie Inko had to rush him to the hospital because he got hypothermia. He remembers feeling so cold that he thought he was going to die, and that’s how he feels right now because he’d just failed a test he didn’t know he was taking. He gave the wrong answer. 

Present Mic says, “Okay.”

Katsuki stares at him. He feels dizzy and cold and sick to his stomach, and his head hurts, and he almost wants to cry. He says, so quietly that he almost can’t even hear himself, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Present Mic says, shrugging. “Okay.” And then he says basically the same thing he said earlier, says, “Get some clothes on, then let’s get something to eat.” As he closes the door, he says, “Make sure to wear something warm!”

Katsuki wraps his arms around himself and shivers.

There’s a plate in front of him. He’s in the kitchen and Present Mic is watching him and there’s a plate in front of him. Katsuki looks at Present Mic, who blinks back at him like he doesn’t know what the problem is. Like he doesn’t know that there even is a problem. He says, “You need to eat so that you have energy for the day,” and Katsuki can’t help but feel like this is a trap.

Katsuki shakes his head, digging his nails into his palms so that he can ignore the part of him that wants to reach forward and grab the plate that Present Mic is offering him, because that’s not healthy food. He’ll ruin himself if he eats that, and then he’ll never be a hero. Besides, heroes were supposed to have a lot of self-control. That’s what his mother always said, and it made sense, and so Katsuki has to control himself and not eat something that he knows will only hurt him in the end. 

“Bakugou,” Present Mic says, and Katsuki takes a step back, shaking his head again. “Look, you need to eat. I’m being serious.” He looks between the plate and Katsuki, then sighs. “This is exactly what I made you for breakfast yesterday. What’s different about today?”

“I don’t -” The words feel like they’re stuck in his throat. “I don’t - I can’t eat eggs. Not the yellow part. They’re bad for you.”

“Well, I’m not letting you only eat toast again.” Present Mic straightens, setting the plate down on the stove. “You know, that’s probably why you’re so cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Katsuki says, even though he is. He’d put on long-sleeved shirt and then a sweater and then a jacket, but he still feels like there’s ice under his skin, spreading and growing like a sickness, like a disease. He says, “And I like toast.”

Present Mic sighs and turns in a circle, looking around the kitchen. “What else do you like?” he asks, walking over to a cabinet and opening it. “Cereal?”

“I want an apple,” Katsuki says.

Present Mic sounds very tired when he says, “That’s not enough, Bakugou.”

Katsuki frowns, thinking of all the times he asked for a snack and then watched his mother take an apple out of the fridge. She’d cut it in half, then weigh each piece on the little scale on the kitchen counter. She never said that apples weren’t enough. She never said that any kind of food wasn’t enough. Glancing around, Katsuki sees that there’s no scale in this kitchen, and he wonders how all the people who live here know how much they’re supposed to eat if they don’t have a way to measure it. “You guys should get a scale,” he says. 

Present Mic closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and says, slowly, “We don’t need a scale, Bakugou.”

Katsuki starts to argue, then bites down on his tongue. Present Mic has a ring on his finger, and it always hurts more to be slapped by a hand that has a ring on it. Present Mic’s ring doesn’t look like it has a gemstone on it or anything, but Katsuki still doesn’t want to risk it. “Okay,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Present Mic asks, and it sounds like one of those questions that adults asked but never actually wanted an answer to, and so Katsuki stays quiet. “You don’t -” Present Mic sighs and glares up at the ceiling for a moment, then looks at Katsuki like he’s trying to see inside his head. “Bakugou, if I get you an apple, you need to actually eat it. Okay?”

Katsuki blinks at him. “Why would I ask for food if I wasn’t going to eat it?” He watches as Present Mic crosses the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator door. He waits until Present Mic is far enough away, then points out, “You should totally get a scale.” Present Mic straightens up so fast that he hits his head on the top part of the fridge. “Ow, fuck,” he mutters, then looks at Katsuki. “We don’t need a scale. You don’t need a scale. You’re eight.”

“My mom has a scale,” Katsuki counters. “She uses it for food so that we can stay healthy, because she’s a model and I’m going to be a hero.”

“That’s not what being a hero is about,” Present Mic says. “Being a hero is about saving people, not eating, like, one thing a day.”

“I eat more than that!” Katsuki says, and it feels weird to be saying that, but Present Mic is wrong. “I would die if I only ate one thing a day.”

“Oh my God,” Present Mic says. He closes the refrigerator, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that I’m having this conversation.” He looks at the apple in his hand, then at Katsuki, then sighs. “Do you want me to cut this up?”

“No, it's fine,” Katsuki says. “You’re probably already late for work.” He takes the apple when Present Mic offers it to him, then stares down at it. Now that he’s actually holding it, he kind of wants to ask if Present Mic can cut it in half, but he guesses that it’s fine. Apples are healthy, anyways, which is why they always had them in the fridge at home. 

Present Mic puts a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure that you feel well enough to come along?” he asks, sounding concerned. “I wouldn’t mind -” Katsuki says, “I’m fine.”

Present Mic looks like he wants to say something else, but then he just sighs again. “Alright, then,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Like the rest of Yuuei, the teachers’ lounge is huge. There’s a teachers’ lounge at Katsuki’s primary school - he knows because he’s caught glimpses it while walking by when the door was open - but he’s pretty sure that it's not as big as this. 

When Katsuki says that, Present Mic laughs a little and says, “Well, Yuuei has a lot of teachers. Plus, they have to convince people to work here somehow, right?”

“I guess so,” Katsuki says. He pulls his legs up into his chair and crosses them, leaning his elbows on the table as he watches Present Mic bustle around the kitchenette in the corner, and then he asks, “Where’s Eraserhead?” Because now that he thinks about it - and he is thinking about it, a lot - he hasn’t seen Eraserhead since yesterday. “He wasn’t here this morning.”

“He was taking Eri to school,” Present Mic says, taking down two mugs from the cabinet above the sink. They’re gray, with the symbol of Yuuei printed on the sides, and he pours hot water into both of them as he says, “He’s teaching right now. He’s Class 1-A’s homeroom teacher.”

“That’s the hero class, right?” Katsuki asks, sitting up in his chair. He remembers seeing a special documentary about Yuuei, and he remembers thinking that Class 1-A was the class he wanted to be in when he got older because that was where the best heroes came from. “Y’know, where the top-ranking students are?”

“Yep! You’ve met a few of them, actually.” Present Mic glances over his shoulder. “Let’s see… you’ve met Ashido, Todoroki, Kirishima…”

“And that girl with the ponytail,” Katsuki adds. “She made me some clothes because you guys weren’t expecting to have to take care of me.”

Present Mic hums in agreement as he turns around with a cup in each hand. He carries them over and sets them on the table, then sits down across from Katsuki. “Her name is Yaoyorozu,” he says, then nods at the mug he’s placed in front of Katsuki. “Let that cool down a bit, and then you drink it. It’ll warm you up.”

“I’m not cold,” Katsuki protests. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his hands and drags the cup closer to him, feeling the steam on his face as he peers at its contents. “Is this tea?”

Present Mic nods. “Peppermint.”

“I like tea,” Katsuki says, and he finds himself rubbing at the mark on the side of his palm. It's barely even noticable, just a few shades darker than the rest of his skin, but it feels rough beneath his fingers. “I tried to make some a couple days ago, but Todoroki wouldn’t let me because he’s an asshole.” He hears a snort and looks up to see that Present Mic is doing a terrible job of covering up a smile. “I’m being serious! I was trying to make some tea and then he came running in and started yelling at me!”

Present Mic’s smile turns into a frown. “Todoroki did that?” he asks, like he thinks that Katsuki is lying. “That doesn’t really sound like something he’d do.”

Katsuki tenses. He should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut, because Present Mic has obviously known Todoroki for longer than he’s known Katsuki, and that meant that he’d be on Todoroki’s side. Like how Katsuki’s father always agreed with his mother, or how Kariage always backed him up in a fight. He doesn’t know what good it’ll do, but he finds himself saying, “I’m telling the truth.”

Present Mic’s eyebrows shoot up. “I never said you weren’t,” he points out. “I just meant that Todoroki usually doesn’t act like that.” He takes a sip of his tea, then muses, “Maybe it's because he was sick.”

And that’s something that Katsuki didn’t know about. “He was sick?” he asks, remembering how angry Todoroki had looked when he ran into the kitchen, the way he grabbed Katsuki’s arm and shook him and asked if he wanted the burn to scar. “So he’s usually not that mad?”

“Well, he’s mad, but not loudly. If that makes any sense.” Present Mic looks at Katsuki over the rim of his cup. “Does that make any sense?”

Katsuki thinks about how his father sometimes got really quiet, and that usually meant that he was pissed about something or the other. And then something would set him off, and he would explode, going on a rampage like some kind of monster. He’s never been well and truly angry at Katsuki, but he’s seen it happen. It never ended well. Katsuki presses his hands to the sides of his cup in an attempt to make them warmer, then says, “Yeah, that makes sense.” But now he can’t help but wonder what it was about him that seemed to make Todoroki so upset. Did he do the wrong thing? Did he say something he wasn’t supposed to? Maybe Present Mic is right, and maybe Todoroki was acting weirdly because he was sick, but Katsuki has the feeling that it's somehow all his fault.

He takes a sip of tea and winces when it scalds his tongue. Present Mic catches the motion, because of course he does, and asks, “Is it still too hot for you?”

Katsuki shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. He hates it when people worry about him because that means that he’s distracting them, and people always got mad if you distracted them for too long. “It didn’t even hurt! One time, I accidently put my hand on a burner while I was making dinner, and I couldn’t move my fingers for, like, a month. That hurt way more than this.” 

He’d said that in an attempt to reassure Present Mic that he was fine, but his words seem to have the opposite effect - Present Mic frowns, and his eyebrows furrow again, and he looks even more worried than before. “You cook dinner by yourself?”

“Yeah?” Katsuki asks, feeling confused. “Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Present Mic says, and he sets down his cup. “But I’m an adult. You’re eight.”

“I can cook!” Katsuki says. “And I cook really well, too! Everybody says so.”

“Bakugou,” Present Mic says, and he sounds weird. He’s speaking quietly, but there’s something in his voice that makes Katsuki feel very small. “That’s not the point.”

Katsuki presses himself back in his chair, unsure of why Present Mic suddenly seems angry. He’s not sure if he’s angry at him or if he’s angry at something else, but there never seemed to be a difference in how Katsuki got hit, and so he can only assume that he’s done something wrong. “Sorry?” he tries, because maybe if he apologizes, shows that he really does feel bad about whatever it is that he’s done, he can get away with only a single blow. 

Present Mic’s eyes go a little wide. “I’m not angry,” he says, and he says it quickly, like he thinks that Katsuki might try to interrupt him. “I was just… thinking.” He pauses, then says, “How many times have you cooked dinner by yourself?”

Katsuki lets himself breathe. But he doesn’t relax, not completely, because if he does something wrong this time, he’s sure that Present Mic will change his mind about not being angry. “A lot,” he says, because maybe that’s the right answer. Maybe Present Mic wants to know if he can take care of himself - which he can, by the way. He’s not a fucking baby. “I have to stand on a stool to reach the spice cabinet, but I’m good at cooking. And baking! I know how to make cookies and stuff, but I only ever make them for my friends. And for Deku, because he’s not going to be a hero, so he doesn’t have to worry about not eating healthy things.” 

He waits to see if Present Mic is going to respond, but he doesn’t, and so Katsuki continues, “He likes those ones that have chocolate chips in them. I want to eat them, sometimes, because they smell really good, but…” He trails off, thinking about how good the cookies smelled. And they looked good, too, and he knew they tasted good by how much his friends seemed to like them, but all the ingredients that went into them were bad, so they had to be bad, too. “They’re bad for you. They have a bunch of sugar in them, and butter, and then there’s all that chocolate, so there’s no way that they’re healthy. They’re even worse than peanut butter, I bet.”

When he finishes, Present Mic still doesn’t speak. He just looks at Katsuki like he’s watching a sad movie, and he’s frowning again, and he hasn’t taken a sip of tea in the past five minutes, and Katsuki tries to think of what it is that he’s done wrong. He got asked a question, and so he answered it. Was he not supposed to answer it? Was his answer not the one he was supposed to give? Was his answer too long? The third option seems like the most likely, and it makes the most sense, so Katsuki says, “I didn’t mean to talk that much.”

“No, it's…” Present Mic pinches the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. Like he has a headache because of Katsuki. “It's fine. You haven’t done anything wrong. I was just wondering about something.” His glasses are fogged with the steam from the tea, and so he takes them off and cleans them with the edge of his shirt, then asks, “Do your parents leave you at home by yourself?”

“Well, yeah,” Katsuki says, feeling relieved, because at least that’s a question he knows the answer to. He’s been asked it a bunch of times, and he never got in trouble for his response. People always just smiled at him and told him how responsible and mature he was, which was a good thing because it meant that he was better than other kids his age. “A lot! It's because they know that I can take care of myself, and I know the way to school, and I look both ways before crossing the street. One time they left me by myself for, like, a bunch of months, and I had to go to the store by myself and everything.” That last part is important because he had to carry the groceries home by himself afterwards, so he couldn’t get too much. He was responsible and mature for his age, but he was also small for his age, too, so it's not like he could carry a lot of stuff at one time. “But my dad left me a bunch of money, so it wasn’t that bad. I read a lot of books and stuff, since house was really quiet.”

He stops talking and watches Present Mic, hoping for the praise he always got when he told that to other adults. He was responsible and mature, and that meant that he was going to be a good hero. The best hero, actually, because Katsuki was great at being the best! When he got the highest grades on his tests and stuff, his father would smile at him, and even his mother would tell him, good job, and then she would brag about him to all her friends, which was a good thing because it meant that he’d actually done something right for once. 

But Present Mic doesn’t smile at him, and he doesn’t say, good job. He just says, in that weird voice that makes Katsuki feel tiny, “Right.” He puts his hands around his cup of tea but doesn’t drink it, just holds it. “How old were you when they left you alone for all those months?”

Unease flares through Katsuki’s stomach. Does Present Mic think that he’s lying about being able to stay home by himself? But that can’t be right, because Present Mic said just a couple of days ago that he thought that Katsuki was going to be a great hero. Those had been his exact words, You’re going to be a great hero. Did he change his mind? Did Katsuki make him change his mind? 

Hesitantly, Katsuki says, “Seven?” and then winces when the word comes out sounding like a question. He tries again, saying, “I was seven,” and then he adds, “It was last year,” because he wants to show how long ago that was, and he’s gotten older than that, so that means he’s even more responsible and mature than he was back then. 

Present Mic’s frown deepens. “You’re really young, Bakugou.”

Katsuki scowls. “No,” he says, feeling hurt, “I’m not.” Why can’t Present Mic just act like all the other adults that Katsuki has met? Why does he have to react so differently to everything? 

“You’re eight,” Present Mic says, like that changes everything. Like that changes anything. “You’re too young to be left alone for a day, much less an entire month.”

“It was a bunch of months,” Katsuki corrects. 

“That’s even worse,” Present Mic says. “How many people have you told about this?” The way he says it makes it sound like he thinks that Katsuki was trying to keep it a secret. “How many adults know about this, Bakugou?”

Katsuki tries to remember all the adults he’s gotten compliments from, but quickly loses count. He shrugs. “A lot, I guess.”

“And none of them have done anything about it? None of them have tried to help you?”

Katsuki tenses, feeling hurt that Present Mic thinks that he needs help. He just told him that he was able to take care of himself! He doesn’t need anybody to help him with something that he already knows how to do! “I don’t need help!” he says, and his voice sounds louder than it should, but he thought that Present Mic said that Katsuki was going to be a great hero, and great heroes didn’t need help. All Might never needed help, which was what made him the best hero. “I’m responsible and mature!” and he’s never actually said that out loud before, so he stumbles a little over the words. He sputters, then continues, “I know how to take care of myself!”

“That’s not what I meant, Bakugou,” Present Mic says. “I know that you can take care of yourself. But you shouldn’t have to. You’re too young to worry about things like that. You should be having fun, not… not worrying about making yourself dinner. That’s what a parent is supposed to do.”

Katsuki shakes his head. “That’s what parents are supposed to do for kids that don’t know how to do things for themselves. I know how to do everything by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help, so my parents don’t have to do that.” He tries to keep himself calm as he explains it, but Present Mic is looking at him like he’s something to be sad about, and the anger grabs hold of him again and refuses to let go. He doesn’t want to be here. He should’ve just stayed back at the dorms. Sure, he’d be lonely, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with one of his favorite heroes telling him that he’s practically useless on his own. He feels sparks crack across his palms and quickly smothers them on his pants, knowing what happened when he couldn’t control his Quirk, but he’s so, so angry and he hears himself say, “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“Not for another thirty minutes,” Present Mic says, then pauses like he wants to say something else. He closes his mouth. Opens it, then says, “Bakugou, you deserve more than this.”

Katsuki doesn’t answer, and they spend the rest of the time in silence.

After Present Mic leaves, time passes in a blur. Katsuki is bored but doesn’t want to say it, knowing that complaining would just make him sound ungrateful, and he distracts himself by watching the hands of the clock tick away the seconds and minutes and hours. True to Present Mic’s word, all the teachers have different planning periods, so there’s always someone in the lounge with him. Some of them talk to him, and he tries to respond politely, but most of them just stare at him while trying to pretend that they’re not staring.

Katsuki sighs.

He must fall asleep for a little bit, because he wakes up when the chair across from him scrapes against the floor as someone pulls it back and sits down in it. “Oh, sorry,” they say. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Katsuki straightens, rubbing at his eyes. “It's okay,” he says, because that’s what you’re supposed to say when someone apologizes, even if it's actually not really that okay. “I -” He looks at the person who just sat down and freezes, staring. He says, after a long moment of silence, “You’re Midnight.”

The woman raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “Yes, I suppose I am,” she says. “And what’s your name?”

Katsuki stares at her. It takes several moments for her question to register in his head, and, when it does, his answer sounds nervous even to his own ears, “Bakugou.” He clears his throat and tries again, steady and confident like his mother always told him to be when introducing himself to strangers. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I should’ve guessed,” Midnight says, and he has the feeling that she’s teasing him. Before he can say anything about it, she smiles and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Katsuki pauses, thinking about how he should respond. Does she want to know why he’s in the teachers’ lounge, or does she want to know why he’s at Yuuei in the first place? The second choice seems the most likely, since it would give her more information, and so he says, “Eraserhead is taking care of me,” which is a concept that still feels weird to think about. He didn’t even know that his parents were friends with any heroes. But his father once shook hands with some super important person in America, so he supposes that it's not actually that strange. “And Present Mic.”

“Really? That sounds fun.” Midnight’s smile widens. She seems delighted by the sight of him, and he can’t figure out why. “How old are you, Bakugou?”

“I’m eight,” he says, watching her warily. She looks really happy to see him. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone ever looked happy to see him. Actually, Deku looked at him like that, and so did Kariage and Yasu, but they didn’t count because Katsuki has known them since forever. “I’ll be nine in April.” He counts on his fingers, then adds, “That’s in three months.”

Midnight nods as if she’d been expecting that answer. “That’s really close,” she points out.

“Yeah, it is.”

Midnight puts her elbow on the table and leans her cheek against her palm, watching him. “What are you hoping to get for your birthday?”

Katsuki blinks at her. He hasn’t gotten birthday presents since he was, like, four. Well, he got them Deku and Kariage and Yasu, but, again, they didn’t count. “I’m too old for presents.”

“Nobody is too old for birthday presents,” Midnight says, that teasing tone back in her voice. When Katsuki shrugs, she asks, “Well, what kind of cake do you plan on getting?”

She’s asking all the wrong questions, Katsuki thinks, then says, “I don’t like cake.” When her eyebrows shoot up, he hurries to explain, “I tried it once at a party, and it tasted good, but my mom found out and got really mad at me.” He shudders at the memory of how mad she got at him.

“... Why would she get mad at you about something like that?” Midnight asks, sitting up. She’s frowning. “What’s so bad about cake?”

“It's unhealthy,” Katsuki says, and it's true, so he doesn’t really know why Midnight’s frown deepens when he tells her that. “Like, it has all that sugar and stuff in it. It's really bad for you.” The silence stretches a bit too far, and Katsuki shifts in his seat, suddenly nervous. When his mother got quiet, it usually meant that she was really, really angry at him. And when she got angry, people got hurt. He got hurt. He doesn’t know if Midnight is the same way, but she’s watching him with wide eyes and she’s staying so still that she looks like a statue and Katsuki doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, and so he says, trying to relieve the tension, “I have to eat properly if I’m going to be a hero.”

“Bakugou,” Midnight says, and she doesn’t sound as happy as she did before. “That’s not… sweetie, you should be allowed to eat cake.”

Katsuki leans back in his chair, putting himself out of her reach. “Sorry,” he says, because he’s obviously made her upset. He thought he’d been doing the right thing by saying that, by proving how much he wants to be a hero, but he guesses that he was wrong. He feels like he’s been wrong about a lot of things, lately.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Midnight says, and her voice is just barely above a whisper, and Katsuki doesn’t like the way she’s looking at him. She’s looking at him like she’s never seen him before. 

Katsuki shrinks under her gaze, holding onto the sides of his seat to keep himself from running. 

… He doesn’t know where he’d go, anyways, if he did run. Somebody would find him, because somebody always does, and then everything hurts more than it would if he had just stayed where he was. He knows this because he still remembers the one time when his mother was yelling at him and so he ran into his bedroom and shut his door in her face, and she responded by locking it and not letting him out until he apologized. But he didn’t want to apologize, not to her, and so he missed dinner for two entire nights. And then when he did get to eat, he threw it back up because he ate too fast, so he didn’t get dinner that night, either.

Katsuki winces at the memory. The only good thing that came out of that experience was that he learned his lesson: running away didn’t help anything. It just made things worse.

Midnight closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them and asks, “Are you bored?”

“No,” Katsuki says, because that’s probably the answer that she wants. 

Midnight’s eyebrows pinch together. “Are you sure?” she asks. “It doesn’t look like you have anything to keep you busy, and I’d be pretty bored, too, if I were stuck in here for hours.” When it becomes clear that Katsuki isn’t going to respond, she scrapes her chair back from the table and stands, holding out a hand towards him. “C’mon,” she says. “You can help me in my classroom, alright?”

Katsuki starts to reach out, then draws back. “Present Mic told me to wait here,” he says, suspicious. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“He told me to wait here.”

“Look,” Midnight says, taking out her phone.

Katsuki can’t help the way he goes so tense that his entire body aches. His teachers used to get him to behave by threatening to call his parents, and he knows that Midnight isn’t going to do that, that she doesn’t even know his parents, but some voice in his head whispers, But what if she does? They’d be so mad if they had to come home early just to pick Katsuki up. His mother might even be mad enough to -

Don’t, he tells himself. Don’t think about that.

But Midnight doesn’t call his parents. She just says, “We can ask him, okay?” and then dials somebody’s number before Katsuki can respond. 

Midnight puts the call on speaker, so Katsuki can hear it when the phone rings once, twice, three times, and then Present Mic’s voice asks, “Do you need something, Nemuri?”

“Yes, actually,” Midnight says. “So, I’m in the teachers’ lounge, and -”

Present Mic interrupts her, asking, “Is Bakugou okay?”

“Bakugou is just fine,” Midnight says. She puts a hand on Katsuki’s head and he flinches, thinking that he’s done something wrong, but then all she does is ruffle his hair. “I just wanted to know if you’d mind me bringing him to my classroom.” She pauses, then asks, “What were you thinking, anyways, leaving a kid in here with nothing to do?”

Present Mic is quiet for a long moment, and then he sighs. “Yeah,” he admits, “that was a pretty bad idea.”

Midnight shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “You’re not very good at this whole babysitting thing,” she says, then, speaking over Present Mic’s protests, “Anyways, you’re fine with me taking him for a little bit? He can hang out in my classroom. The kids will love him.”

“Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Present Mic asks, sounding worried. “Have you told them about -”

“Yes,” Midnight says, cutting him off. “Everybody already knows. They’ll all be perfectly behaved.”

“... Well, alright,” Present Mic says, still sounding unconvinced. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”

“Oh, please,” Midnight says. “Who do you think I am?” Then, without waiting for Present Mic to answer, she ends the call and grins down at Katsuki. “See? I told you he’d be fine with it!” She puts her phone away and holds out her hand.

Katsuki takes it.

Midnight’s classroom is empty. When Katsuki looks around, wordlessly questioning, she explains, “I’m still technically on break. They’ll be here in -” she looks at the clock over the door “- about ten minutes.”

Katsuki says, “Okay,” and then falls silent, unsure of what it is that he’s supposed to be doing. She must want him to do something, but he can’t figure it out. But he doesn’t want to ask, because then he’ll feel stupid if the answer is something obvious.

Midnight smiles at him. “What kinds of things do you like to do?” she asks, walking over to her podium. “I’m sure I can find something to keep you entertained.”

Katsuki follows her after instinct, trailing behind as he considers her question. He likes to read, but it looks like the only books in here are textbooks about history and stuff, and he likes to draw, but all of the supplies that Eraserhead got for him is still back at the dorms. “I don’t know,” he answers. “I just -”

Somebody says, “Kayama-sensei, I’d like to speak to you about something.”

“Hold that thought,” Midnight says to Katsuki, then looks towards the voice. Katsuki follows her gaze to a tired-looking boy in the doorway. “Yes? What do you need?”

The boy walks forward. He starts, “I was wondering -” and then stops short when he sees Katsuki. Aside from his raised eyebrows, Katsuki can’t read his expression. “Is that -”

“His name is Bakugou,” Midnight says, and there’s something in her voice that Katsuki can’t quite decipher. It almost sounds like a warning. “I’m looking after him for a little bit.” She clears her throat, and her voice is back to normal when she asks, “Now, what is it that you needed help with?”

With what seems to be great difficulty, the boy looks away from Katsuki. “I had a question about the study guide you gave us.” He puts his backpack on the closest desk, unzipping it, then rummages through it until he pulls out a packet of stapled paper. He flips to a page, then points at a line of text on it, showing it to Midnight. “It says the the Quirk Discrimination Act of 2173 was meant to protect people with mutant Quirks, but it was actually made to protect people with mentalist Quirks, because there was an incident a year before where a nine-year-old girl had her vocal cords -” He falters, glancing over at Katsuki, then looks back at Midnight. “The Act of 2149 was the one that protected people with mutant Quirks, not the Act of 2173.”

Midnight frowns down at the paper, then sighs. “You’re right,” she says, somehow managing to sound apologetic without even saying the words. “I don’t know how I made a mistake like that. The years aren’t even similar. Sorry about that, Shinsou.” The boy - Shinsou, Midnight had called him - rubs at the back of his neck, looking like he regrets bringing up the mistake at all. “It's not a big deal,” he says. “I just remember it because it's the year I manifested my Quirk.” He shrugs, then lets Midnight take the study guide. As she walks away, he turns to Katsuki and says, “Wow, you’re tiny.” As if to prove it, he crouches down so that he can look Katsuki in the eyes. “I bet you can’t ride any rides at the fair.”

Katsuki scowls at him, crossing his arms. “You’re a jackass.”

“Yeah, well,” Shinsou says, shrugging again. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re tiny.”

“Don’t antagonize him, Shinsou,” Midnight says, but she sounds like she’s smiling. “Aizawa-sensei is in charge of him. You don’t want him getting mad at you, do you?”

Shinsou tilts his head. “I guess not,” he says, straightening up. “He’d probably have me run laps until I dropped.” He pulls his backpack off the desk and puts it down by his feet, sitting in the chair. He props his chin in his palm and studies Katsuki, then says, “I bet you plan on coming to Yuuei when you’re older.”

Katsuki’s scowl deepens. He has the feeling that he’s being made fun of. “Yeah,” he shoots back, glaring. “What about it?”

Shinsou holds his hands up in mock-defense, his sharp grin giving him away. “Calm down,” he says. “I was just making an observation.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, unwilling to let his guard down. There’s something about the way the boy speaks, like he’s purposefully keeping his voice flat, that makes him uneasy. “I can beat your ass, you know,” Katsuki says. “I could blow up this whole entire room.” He wouldn’t actually do that, of course, because he’d get in trouble and then his arms would get hurt again, but he wants Shinsou to know that he could. 

Shinsou raises an eyebrow. “Christ,” he mutters. “You’re as touchy as always.”

Katsuki bristles. He doesn’t know exactly what Shinsou means by that, but he can tell it's a bad thing by the way the jerk said it like he didn’t want Katsuki to hear. “Shut up,” he snaps. “Leave me alone.”

And now Shinsou raises both eyebrows. “Hold on,” he says. “Calm down. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Bullshit.” 

“No, seriously. I’m being serious. Dead serious.” He grins again as he says, “There's no point in picking a fight with someone I’ve just met, especially a six-year-old.” “I’m eight!” 

“Well, an eight-year-old, then,” Shinsou amends. “I don’t make it a habit to fight eight-year-olds. Even if they do threaten to blow me up.”

“I wasn’t threatening you,” Katsuki says, even though, yes, that was exactly what he’s been doing. “I was just telling you that I could beat your ass if I wanted to.” He feels his hands start to get hot and curses, waving them through the air to cool them down before he actually does blow something up. “You’re fucking lucky that I don’t want to get in trouble, bastard.”

“I’m so relieved.”

Katsuki glares at him. This was how all fights started, usually. He didn’t try to get into fights, but people liked to taunt him until he got angry enough not to care anymore about getting in trouble, and then everyone said that it was his fault even though it wasn’t. And then his mother would yell at him the entire car ride home, and then, if the damage had been really bad, she’d shove his arms into those stupid restraints until he either learned how to control himself or threw a big enough fit that his father unlocked him just so that he’d stop screaming. The last option usually came first.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki says, rubbing at the thin scar wrapped around his arm, just beneath his elbow, as a reminder of what would happen if he let himself get too upset. He drops his hand, though, when he sees Shinsou’s eyes follow the motion. “The Hell are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” Shinsou says, which is total bullshit. “I was just wondering what your parents are like.”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“Well, that’s still a weird thing to think about. I don’t wonder about what your parents are like.” Katsuki frowns, sitting in the seat across from Shinsou, turning to face him. “You’re fucking weird.”

Shinsou shrugs, not looking offended at all, which is fine. Katsuki hadn’t really been insulting him. He’d just been making an observation. “Yeah,” Shinsou says. “I guess I am.”

Katsuki goes silent, not sure about how he’s supposed to respond to that, then says, “You look tired.”

“Oh, really.”

Katsuki nods. “You’ve got bags,” he says, tracing his fingers under his own eyes to demonstrate. “You must stay up past midnight a lot. I tried to do that once and then I got in trouble because I fell asleep in class the next day.”

Shinsou huffs a laugh. “Sounds like your parents need to set a bedtime,” he says.

“I only tried to do it once!” Katsuki protests, rushing to defend himself. He pauses, considering, then points out, “Plus, it's not like my parents would know if I stayed up too late. Time doesn’t work the same in other places. One time my dad called me, and it was, like, five in the morning! He woke me up! When I asked him why he called me so early, he said that he got confused because it wasn’t that early in America.” He looks at Shinsou. “Isn’t that weird?”

Agreeably, Shinsou says, “Yeah, that’s pretty weird.” He pauses, then says, “I’ve never been to America before.” “I’ve been there,” Katsuki says, happy to share the knowledge he gathered from his one trip to the United States. “Everybody smiled a lot, and it was really loud. I got to see the Statue of Liberty and everything! I wanted to see more, but then I had to go to the hospital.” When Shinsou stares at him, Katsuki explains, “My dad hit me in the head with a vase.” Then, when Shinsou’s eyes go wide, “It was an accident! He was trying to hit somebody else, but I got in the way, so it was my fault.” He pushes his hair out of his face and points to the scar along the top edge of his forehead. He knows it by sight as much as he knows it by feel, the crooked line of it usually hidden by the fall of his hair. “The doctors had to stitch it up and everything, and my head was hurting really badly, so I didn’t even get to see the rest of New York. I’m still mad about that, actually.”

“Oh,” Shinsou says. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, though. And my dad got me ice cream, which I don’t really like, but I ate it so that he wouldn’t feel bad.” He grins, remembering. “I had to eat it really fast so that my mom didn’t see, and I ended up getting a brain freeze.”

And that makes Shinsou laugh, even though it sounds more surprised than anything, like it's been shocked out of him. Maybe that’s just what his normal laugh sounds like. “Fuck,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s… not what I expected to hear.”

Katsuki’s smile falls. “What did you expect to hear, then?” he asks, not really knowing if he wants to know the answer. “I don’t know,” Shinsou says. “Something happy, I guess. Not a story about your dad throwing a vase at your head.”

“He didn’t throw it at my head,” Katsuki points out, irritated. “I literally just said that it was an accident.” He pauses, processing the rest of Shinsou’s words, and then scowls. “And it was a happy story!” “Your dad hit you in the head with a vase and put you in the hospital. That’s what I’ve gathered from this. It doesn’t sound very happy.”

“That’s because you’re trying to make it sound unhappy,” Katsuki says. “It's like you weren’t even listening. He got me ice cream!”

“You just said that you don’t like ice cream.”

“I don’t,” Katsuki huffs, crossing his arms. “But he got it for me, and he apologized.”

Shinsou blinks at him, eyebrows furrowing. “You never said that he apologized.”

“He got me ice cream,” Katsuki says.

“But he didn’t apologize.”

“He got me ice cream,” Katsuki repeats. What about this doesn’t Shinsou understand? Was he even listening? 

“Yeah, but he never said that he was sorry.”

“He didn’t have to,” Katsuki explains. “I knew that he was sorry. He wouldn’t have gotten me anything if he wasn’t sorry. He never gets me anything unless he’s sorry.” Katsuki tilts his head back, trying to think of an example. He comes up with the most memorable incident, which also happened to be the one that he wasn’t allowed to talk about. His father made him pinky-promise to not tell anybody about it, but it’d probably be fine if he kept the details out of it. “There was this one time when I hurt my arm, and my dad took me to the zoo after I got my cast off. I got to see all the animals, but we didn’t go into the bug exhibit because he doesn’t like bugs. We took a bunch of pictures.”

“... I don’t see why he’d have to apologize for you getting your arm hurt,” Shinsou says. “Not unless you’re leaving something out of the story.”

Katsuki freezes. He hadn’t mentioned how much it hurt to have a bone broken, or how his father had gotten the doctor to make his cast bright orange to cheer him up even though it didn’t really work, or how Katsuki had to tell everybody that he fell down the stairs, or how all these years later all his mother had to do was grab his arm to make him behave, but he feels like Shinsou knows it all anyways, like he can see everything that Katsuki kept hidden, and he wonders if maybe it was a mistake to start talking about his family in the first place. His arm aches when it rains.

Shinsou says, “But I could be wrong.”

“You are,” Katsuki says. He thinks that he says it too fast, but he can’t stop himself. “You’re wrong. He apologized. He got me ice cream, and he took me to the zoo, so you’re wrong.” And Shinsou is looking at him in the same way that Present Mic had been looking at him, the same way that Midnight had been looking at him, like they thought that there was something wrong. Like they thought that there something wrong with him. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“I’m don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shinsou says. “I’m just -” “Shut up!” Katsuki snaps. His head is hurting again, and so is his stomach, and he feels like he’s about to cry. But he can’t cry, he can’t, he doesn’t even have a reason to cry. It's not like anybody is yelling at him. He’s the only one who’s yelling. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Shinsou frowns. “Hey, it's alright,” he says, and then he reaches forward.

Katsuki flinches, jerking back so hard that he almost falls out of the chair and has to grab onto the desk to keep from crashing to the floor. He watches as Shinsou quickly pulls his hand back, but Katsuki’s heart doesn’t slow down, just keeps beating so fast that he feels like he might throw up.

“Sorry,” Shinsou says. “That wasn’t - I didn’t mean -” He looks around the classroom like he’s searching for help, then says, “Kayama-sensei, can you…” And then he trails off, like he’s unsure of what he’d been about to ask.

Midnight asks, “Is something wrong?” There’s the sound of footsteps. “I finished editing the -” She stops. Katsuki can feel her eyes on him, burning into him. “Bakugou, are you okay?”

In response, Katsuki bursts into tears.

—

“He’s tired.”

Katsuki swipes his arm across his eyes and tries to focus on taking deep breaths, which is what Recovery Girl told him to do. He doesn’t look at where Present Mic and Eraserhead are standing in the corner, speaking quietly, like he can’t hear them. Like he doesn’t know that they’re talking about him.

“No,” Present Mic says. “He’s hungry.”

“Well, yeah, but he’s more tired than hungry.” Eraserhead waves a hand in Katsuki’s direction, and Katsuki closes his eyes. “Look at him, he’s exhausted. He should sleep.”

“He’s exhausted because he’s hungry. He needs to eat, and then he should sleep, not the other way around.” Present Mic sighs. “Christ, his head must hurt like Hell.”

And he’s right. Katsuki’s head does hurt like Hell. It's been hurting since he woke up and now it's even worse. It hurts so much that he feels dizzy when he pries his eyes open and says, “No, it doesn’t.” He doesn’t know why he’s saying it. He doesn’t know why he’s not telling the truth. He’s a liar and a baby and a weakling and he doesn’t deserve to have people be worried about him. He doesn’t deserve anything. 

He feels his eyes start to burn and quickly closes them again.

“I think the hardest part would be finding food that he’ll actually eat,” Present Mic says. “He doesn’t like peanut butter, or caramel, or eggs, or cookies…” He trails off, then sighs again. “The only things that I’ve actually seen him eat are apples, toast, and, like, a few bites of dinner each night. I don’t know how he’s still awake. I don’t even know how he’s still alive.��

Katsuki brings his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his arms, trying to block out their voices. He’s doing the right thing. He is. Even when his parents weren’t home, he made sure that he ate properly. He checked the nutrition facts and everything because that’s what his mother taught him to do and he’s doing the right thing and he can feel his heartbeat against his ribs and he’s so fucking hungry.

“I mean,” Eraserhead says. “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? I’ve asked him what he wants to eat. I’ve asked him to eat. I’ve told him to eat.” There’s the sound of footsteps going back-and-forth and Katsuki can only assume that Present Mic is pacing. “Nothing works. If you put food in front of him and tell him to eat, he’ll just argue with you until you give him something he actually wants, which ends up being, like, a single piece of fruit.”

There’s a long pause, and then Eraserhead says, “He’s eight.”

“I know!” Present Mic says, and Katsuki flinches at the way his voice rises. “He’s eight! He’s a little kid! This shouldn’t be happening!”

Katsuki feels horrible. It's bad enough that Midnight had to carry him to Present Mic’s class, and now Present Mic and Eraserhead are arguing over him, and Katsuki wants to be with his parents again because at least then he knew what people wanted from him. At least he knew what it was that he had to apologize for. 

His head hurts so much.

The voices drone on and on, and Katsuki’s thoughts are so loud that he can’t even understand them. His arm hurts and it feels like nails are digging into his skin and he wants to cry. He wants to fall asleep until everything makes sense. He wants to eat and eat and eat but he knows that he’ll just throw it back up, because that’s what happened last time, and he’s learned his lesson. Plus, wouldn’t that just be proving that he doesn’t have any self-control? If he loses control, he’ll ruin his future. Remember. He has to remember that.

There’s the sound of the door closing and Katsuki’s head snaps up. He blinks until his vision is clear and sees that Present Mic is staring at him, and when he sees Katsuki looking, he says, “He’s just getting Recovery Girl.” And he sounds almost scared when he reaches out a hand and asks, “Can I see your arm, Bakugou?”

Katsuki scrambles away until his back is against the wall. He shakes his head.

“I’m not mad at you, Bakugou,” Present Mic says, sounding pleading. “I just want to see your arm.”

Katsuki’s breaths are so short and shallow that he thinks he might fall over. He clutches his arm to his chest, wincing at the pain that flares through it, and somehow manages to say, “You said you weren’t mad at me.” And he should be grateful that nobody is calling his parents, but he can picture Present Mic’s fingers wrapping around his wrist and bending it until it breaks, and the mental image makes him feel so sick that he thinks he might throw up. “You said you weren’t mad. You said…”

Present Mic’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not mad, Bakugou,” he says, still holding out his hand. “I just want to see your arm, alright?”

And he sounds so insistent about it that Katsuki knows that he doesn’t even have a choice. Maybe he had a choice before, but he must’ve done something to ruin it. He doesn’t deserve to have a choice. The only thing he can do is listen, and he can’t even do that properly. He inches forward and holds out his arm, eyes going wide at the red lines raked into his skin. He watches at Present Mic gently takes his wrist, inspecting the damage that Katsuki has done to himself. 

Present Mic’s grip is so loose that Katsuki could yank out of it if he wanted to, but he knows that that’s what Present Mic wants him to think. It's a trap, and if Katsuki tries to escape his punishment, everything will hurt even more when Present Mic catches up to him.

After a few seconds, Present Mic frowns and says, “Bakugou, you’re shaking.”

Every moment feels like the moment before the pain comes, and the worst part, he thinks, is the waiting. He knows that he’s about to get hurt. He just doesn’t know when. Katsuki tries to answer, tries to apologize, but all that comes out of his mouth is a strangled sob. 

Present Mic’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you hurt somewhere else?” he asks, sounding frantic and worried. “Bakugou?”

His grip tightens, just a little, and Katsuki’s mind goes blank. The fear that rushes through him knocks the world off-kilter. He hears himself scream out, “SORRY!” and only knows that he’d been yelling by the way his throat feels like it's been ripped to shreds. He bursts into tears again and doesn’t even realize it until he feels them dripping down his cheeks, and he wants to run away, wants to hide, but that’ll just make everything so much worse. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, please don’t -” He takes a gasping, heaving breath. When he speaks, his voice comes out thin and weak, “My arm -”

Present Mic lets go of him so fast that Katsuki flinches, scrambling away and shoving his back against the wall. Which is fucking stupid, because he’s just cornered himself. He digs his nails into his palms and tries to calm down, but he can’t, and he’s crying so hard that he feels like his chest might crack open. 

Present Mic says, “Oh.” He looks down at his hands and then looks at Katsuki. “Bakugou, did you think that I was going to…” Behind his glasses, his eyes go wide. “Holy shit, did you think I was going to break your arm?” His voice gets louder as he says, “Did you think I asked you for your arm so that I could break it?”

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says. He’s so fucking stupid. He always ruins things for himself. He thought that Present Mic wanted to break his arm and now he’s mad at him for thinking that and Katsuki doesn’t know what to do. He has so many things to apologize for that he doesn’t know which one to pick. He clutches his arm to his chest and feels his own blood on his fingers and that just makes him cry even harder. “I didn’t - I thought -” 

“You thought that I was going to…” Present Mic’s voice trails off. He sounds sick. “You thought that I was going to break your arm. You thought that I was going to break your fucking arm -”

Katsuki opens his mouth to apologize again, but no words come out. His vision blurs and blurs until Present Mic is nothing but a smear of color. He can feel his mother’s fingers around his wrist and she’d been shaking him and she hadn’t meant to go that far, that’s what his father said, but she never said that she was sorry. She left that to him. She leaves all the bad stuff for Katsuki to deal with and takes all the good things for herself and she shows him off to her friends because he has good grades and a great Quirk and he’s going to be a hero when he grows up, aren’t you, Katsuki?, and that’s why she does this, to make him better, to make him stronger, and he knows that, he knows, but everything hurts so much.

Katsuki feels trembling fingers pry his hand open. He blinks away enough tears that he can see Present Mic trying to get him to stop digging his nails into his skin. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been clawing at himself again. “It's okay,” he hears Present Mic say. “It's okay, just - just let go, Katsuki, please -”

Katsuki manages to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

“No, no, no,” Present Mic says, shaking his head. “Nobody is mad at you. I’m not going to hurt you, please, Katsuki, you’re bleeding -” He finally loosens Katsuki’s grip and lets out a ragged breath, saying, “There we go.”

“Sorry,” Katsuki chokes out. The smell of blood makes his stomach lurch, and he doesn’t want to look down in fear that he’ll actually throw up. He guesses that it's a good thing that he’s in the nurses’ office and not in a classroom or something, but it feels like his arm has been ripped open and it hurts so much and he did it to himself so maybe he deserves it. “I don’t know why - I don’t - I -” The door opens and both of them flinch. Eraserhead starts, “Hizashi -” and then stops, staring. He’s silent for a moment, then shakes his head and goes to the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a box of badages. He takes out a roll of gauze and walks to the cot that Katsuki is on, saying, “I’m just going to stop the bleeding,” before taking Katsuki’s arm and pressing a wad of gauze to what looks like the deepest cut, a bloody trench ripped down from his elbow to his wrist. 

Katsuki flinches in pain, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to take steady breaths. He feels someone rubbing his back and finds that he wants to both lean into and away from the touch. He tries to ignore the murmured conversation he can hear taking place over his head, tries to focus on the pain pulsing through his arm and his head and his chest, but his ears catch on the word stitches and he almost wants to cry again. Which is stupid. He’s stupid. He’s being stupid, crying so much over something like this. It doesn’t even hurt that much, and, even if it did, it’d still be his fault.

“You’re alright,” somebody says. “You’re going to be alright, I promise. Just hold on, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

It's never over, Katsuki wants to say, but he doesn’t have the strength to speak. It keeps going and going and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say any of that. He just keeps his eyes closed, focuses on the pain of his arm, and lets the entire world slip away.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters! You just spilled wine on your favorite shirt--what will you do??

Navani: I will politely excuse myself and go change, of course. Why--what else would someone do?

Steris: First, I would not panic. Next, I would utter one of the jokes I had prepared in advance in case of a party faux-pas, chosen based on my level of acquaintance and relative social ranking to the witnesses. Post-joke, I would excuse myself to the washroom, use the small bottle of detergent I keep in my bag at all times, and see if the outfit can be salvaged. If not, then I would change the smallest total percentage of my outfit as possible while still removing the offending stain. Then, I can return to the party and use the re-entry-after-a-faux-pas joke, and move on.

Wayne: Can I just suck it out of my shirt?

Steris: ...

Wayne: What? Waste of good wine, that is!

Zahel: Leave it. Maybe then people will think I am some sort of messy drunk and FINALLY leave me alone.

Azure: Dab it with a napkin, deal with it later. I generally have more important things going on. 

Noro (whispering): Highmarshal Azure is always so cool!!

Lightsong: I’d pretend it was on purpose to see if I can make dumping wine on your front a trend--after all, a god did it.

Blushweaver: Oh no, I guess my shirt will simply have to come off.

Szeth: I am used to being stained.

Szeth: Usually it’s blood, though. Not wine.

Nightblood: Yeah! Just cover the wine with the blood of evil-doers!

Szeth: That is not quite what I was saying, sword-nimi. 

Moash: If you spend your days breaking rocks and killing gods, you don’t have to worry about trivial things like spilled wine.

Moash: And who has a favorite shirt, anyway? 

Elend: I assume this is at a party, in which case, by holding a book protectively before me at all times, no one will notice!

Vin: Foolproof, really.

Elend: I know!

Elhokar: I would simply say that the wine was poisoned.

Elhokar: Not that anyone ever BELIEVES me!

Jasnah: I have not spilled wine since I was five, but I suppose that if it happened, I could simply soulcast it to smoke.

Veil: I mean--is it even really a party if you haven’t gotten sloppy drunk enough to spill?

Siri: I assume I would be immediately mobbed by servants, stripped and changed, and then that outfit would be ritually burned.

Siri: You know, a normal day.

Adolin: Oh! Oh! I know this!

Adolin: You can use vinegar to remove the stain and then wash the clothes as normal.

Shallan: Time to bury that once-favorite shirt deep, deep underground where it will never see the light of day.

Kaladin: Oooh--that’s smart. The knowledge may torment you forever, but at least it won’t bother anyone else!

Shallan: What torment? It’s buried. It’s gone. I’ve already forgotten.

Kaladin: Wow. That’s so cool--I wish I could do that.

Adolin: WHAT ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT?!

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud | Part 12 | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: Rewatching the show and writing this at the same time has just solidified in me that my version of All Might is fucked beyond comprehension. But anyways- Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, cheating, forced orgasm, suicide, etc.

================================================

All Might tried his best not to grimace at the bright fluorescent lights. He was used to hiding in the shadows and fighting crime during the day, sitting in a police station for questioning was not something he was particularly enjoying. There were so many more important things that he could be doing at this moment.

"Is there a problem sir?"

"Thank you for coming, please, take a seat."

There wasn't an answer to All Might's question, and he much more preferred to stand in situations like this, his height intimidated those in his way to cower in fear.

"No thank you, I'll just stand."

The man across from him sits anyway. "Now I'm sure you know it's no big secret that you decided to take on another sidekick, you made it rather public."

"That I did." He chose his words carefully, never once acknowledging his feelings towards Shade.

"Are you aware that your newest sidekick is currently missing?"

"I was aware, but I believed that perhaps she may have gotten intoxicated and lost, or her quirk allows her to do more than we thought and chose to disappear."

"We have-" He paused, thinking of how to phrase this. "Speculation, that she could have been taken."

"I see. Any leads as to who?"

"No, none. Which is why I asked you here, do you know if she had any enemies?"

All Might took a pause to think, trying to fabricate this whole story and clear him of suspicion entirely. Officers were tough, that could see through lies and use methods to get the suspect to reveal the truth.

"Now that you mention it, there was one."

The man perks up at once, straightening up and pulling out a notepad. "Please, continue."

"Shortly after Shade came to work for me she mentioned wanting to see a man, another pro, that she had met on our patrols."

"Who was he?"

"I'm not sure, but I could try and find out if you'd like."

"Yes that would be most helpful. But continue."

"Well, she had planned a day or so ago to meet up with him, and had confided in me she was doing so. However I advised against it, there was something about that man that seemed- sinister-"

"Sinister how?"

"As the Symbol of Peace, one gets acquainted with evil-doers. Ones of all sorts, and there was something about this man that made him feel just like one of those criminals in your jail cells."

"Is that so? And did she meet up with him?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think she had any other plans that night."

He seemed very pleased, a lead presented to him, all tied up in a bow. "And when approximately was the last time you saw Ms. Shade?"

"Well that would have been- five o'clock? I believe five, we were through with working for the day and I promised to see her the next day for her next day of work training."

"And that was the last time you saw or heard from her? No texts, phone calls, emails?"

"Nothing at all."

"I see, well thank you All Might for all of your helpful information. I'll get this off and we'll look at the next steps." He extended a hand to shake.

"Of course." All Might accepted it. "It was the least I could do. I hope you find her, it's hard to get good sidekicks these days." He laughs slightly, making the chief of police join in with him.

"You always know how to bring some positivity into a dark situation All Might."

"It's what I do best. Now feel free to let my other sidekick Sir Nighteye know if you need anything else, but my hero work doesn't stop if one person is missing. I have to get back out there!"

He rushes off, breathing a sigh of relief that hopefully he had past the test and was now above suspicion.

================================================

Precious time had been spent working her way out of those restraints. Shade had made a shadow clone of herself to look around the penthouse for a key before determining All Might had taken the key with him. So she turned to picking the lock with bobby pins.

How much time had passed she didn't know, worry about him returning filling her. But who knew when the next chance would be for her to have time away from him to work at this? She had to take a risk now.

When each of them had finally clicked open she made sure to be as careful as possible when leaving that bed, fearing he had put some kind of alert device in the penthouse to go off should she move.

Shade tried to ignore the dripping in between her legs, she didn't have time to clean up now, but made a personal reminder to thoroughly cleanse herself of this man she used to call a hero. This fraud. The last thing she wanted was to end up pregnant by the man who had kidnapped her and done things to her without her consent.

The main door was locked, as were most of the windows. The front door was an absolute no, who knows who had been told of the situation, who would stop her and bring her back. No, it had to be one of the windows.

Shade marched over to one and tried to open it, but the lock held fast. Her arm was still broken, and she had to be careful how many shadow clones she made before she was at her limit and therefore trapped at the top of a skyscraper. She had to be smart about this.

Her lack of experience and training were showing now, most pros would know how to get out of a situation like this easily and here she was aimlessly hacking at a window lock with a butcher's knife. There was nothing else she could think of to do or use so she went with that she thought best. Eventually the lock had to give out, right?

She was hopeful, believing soon she'd be free of this mess. Get the police to DNA test the semen found in her body and put All Might in Tartarus prison for the rest of his life. Never to be free to fool and then harm another living soul ever again.

Or so she thought until the door opened.

Slowly Shade turned, knife still in hand, terror running through her as she looked up at her captor.

"Now I thought I told you to stay put."

[pumpkinpuffgirls]

In which I design a puffed cat for the Powerpuff Girls based off an incidental cat from a licensed valentine's day card.

She's tied into the Power of Five AU and ends up being an animal crime fighter with Bullet because sure.

She's also named Belle so people STOP asking me to include the fanon OC "Bell" in my AUs. If you want a character based off the perfect little girl, I have Bianca. The only Bell-related OC you're getting is this cat lol. An idea that was just a doodle that I kept adding layers and layers onto. Incorporates elements of the Power of Five AU and the Make My Powerpuff Proposal

She started as a regular stray kitten. After the events of "Make My Powerpuff," she accidentally drinks some leftover Chemical X residue left behind by the destroyed factory. Causing her to gain powers similar to what happened to Bullet. She is eventually found by Bunny, who is surprised to find any animal who isn't too fragile for her to hold and takes her home. Her sisters try to convince her it isn't a good idea due to the previous run-in with the Evil Cat who brainwashed the Professor, but Bunny won't have it, even naming the cat Belle. Eventually and incidentally, Belle would save the Powerpuff Girls from said Evil Cat attempting to get his revenge. Showing the Professor that not all cats are bad. Thus allowing Belle to be a recurring pet to the girls. She also frequently joins Bullet with forest protecting and animal evil-doer fighting that only cute little critters can pull off. I'm still trying to figure out her powers other than flight, superpowered cat-based abilities like jumping, claws, and night vision, etc.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Seven Seconds: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Nothing is easier than to denounce the evil doer; Nothing more difficult than understanding him." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Child abductions are one of the worst things a human being can do, but you thrive in those environments. You can usually find the child easily because their energies are pure and will lead you to them. However, the abductions usually happen in a smaller setting like a house or even a school...

This one just so happens to be in a fucking mall where there are thousands of people here. Your team was called to assist as soon as the child was reported missing twenty minutes ago. The good thing about this is you can always spot the perpetrator since they love to insert themselves into the investigations. Plus, they have to pretend like they're sad about this, which means they're lying to everyone, which means you can spot them even easier.

This case is meant for someone like you.

Your entire team gets to the mall quickly since you're only an hour from the crime. The local police are currently there as well to help out where they can.

"I'm James Franklin," James introduces himself when you get there. "I'm the Director of the Bureau's Rapid Deployment Team. We've been in lockdown for almost twenty minutes. My team's already in motion."

There was another kidnapping a week ago from the same location. Jessica Davis lost her life, and the killer hadn't been caught. You don't know if it's connected, but that's what you're here to find out.

"Another female, same age, same time of day, and taken from essentially the same location," Emily points out.

"What makes you sure Katie Jacobs is still in the building?" you ask James.

"The mall's got cameras installed at every entrance and exit. Surveillance video confirms Katie entering the building, but no sign of her leaving. Security paged her over the intercom, and their initial sweep came up empty."

"Whoever killed Jessica Davis last week left that mall with her because he wanted time with his victim in privacy. Assuming it's the same offender, he wouldn't stray from his MO. He wouldn't leave here without his victim."

"If Katie is here, then her abductor is still here." You turn to Hotch with a determined look. "I'll be able to tell you who did it."

"Good. Garcia, report to the mall's security office. Reid, Morgan, I want you to find the head of security. We need all data from every search team. You guys start with Katie's parents," Hotch says to you, Emily, and JJ. "We'll treat the mall like a neighborhood, and we'll separate into areas of control. Come on."

This may not be the biggest mall in Virginia, but it is one of the most popular ones. Still, it's pretty big with a hundred and seventeen stores, sixty-nine storage closets, seventy-three dressing rooms, six men and women's restrooms, seven restaurants each with separate kitchens, four elevators, and exits to the rooftop via the north and south stairwells. On top of all that, there is a whole underbelly beneath your feet. Boiler rooms, air ducts, and a subterranean level.

Every team got a copy of the map, but the reality of the situation is that it'll take at least three hours to cover the basics of the entire mall. Realistically, you only have half that time to find Katie.

Ninety-nine percent of abducted children who are killed died within the first twenty-four hours, seventy-five percent are killed within the first three hours, and forty-four percent are killed within the first hour. Jessica Davis joined that forty-four percent group, so if you have any hope of finding Katie alive, then you have about an hour to find her so she doesn't fall into that category.

Penelope knows more about cameras than anyone else on the team, which is why she is the perfect person for the job. She needs every inch of surveillance footage so she can examine it frame by frame to see if there is anything in the background that the police or security has missed. If you want to find Katie alive, then Penelope is going to do her very best to search for her.

Penelope didn't find much, but she did look into one of the cameras outside of the arcade. Katie is clearly shown in the video, but the video image is so poor that everything else is too blurry... including the person Katie is with. She could start the process to enhance the image, but no one has that kind of time.

The best thing you can do as a person and as an FBI agent is to be where the crowd is. You'll be able to rule out any suspects, determine who is innocent and who is guilty, and hopefully, locate the abductor. You, Emily, and JJ walk toward the general public, and you pause when you feel something creep up your spine. There is something trying to tell you that something isn't right here.

You look over the crowd at the different faces. Most people are in their own little world since they have no clue what is going on. Some are too bored to care, and then there are others holding their own children so they don't run off.

"What's wrong?" Emily asks you.

"The unsubs are here. I can feel them."

"Unsubs? As in more than one? How do you know that?"

"Because there is confusion and panic coming from everyone. And out of everyone here, there are two people who are unusually calm."

"Katie was last seen by her cousin in the arcade about twenty-five minutes ago," an officer interrupts. "She was wearing jeans, a green shirt, gray sneakers, and ponytails. We also have a list of registered offenders located within a forty-five-mile radius."

"Okay, run this against current and former employees as well," Emily says. The officer nods and leaves, and Emily turns back to you. "What do you mean by two people? Who?"

"Them."

You gesture to them with your head. Katie's parents, Beth and Paul, are crying and freaking out like any other parent would. However, Katie's aunt and uncle, Richard and Susan, are beside them acting like they are scared. Susan is unusually calm about this entire thing, and Richard is more scared than panicked. Scared for himself, that is.

"They're Katie's aunt and uncle," JJ says.

"You're suggesting family members can't be predators to their own family? Look, I don't have proof, obviously, but I know what I feel and what I see. They have something to do with it. Looks can be deceiving, so don't let them lie to you."

You three head over to Katie's parents, but your eyes are locked onto Richard. Susan is also a suspect in your book, but Richard seems like he has dark secrets. You know he is hiding something dark, you don't know what it is just yet.

"Hi. We're agents Jareau, Y/N, and Prentiss with the BAU. You two must be Katie's aunt and uncle. This can't be easy. We're here to walk you through this."

Hotch walks away from his group and heads over to you three, but you don't look away from Richard. You cross your arms over your chest to make it look like you know their secret. Richard tries not to look at you, but his wife isn't so shy about telling you off.

"Why are you looking at my husband like that?"

"Just thinking, ma'am."

You look away from Richard and focus on the issue at hand. If you want to prove that Richard and Susan are your unsubs, then it would do you and Katie no good to call them out. You have to build a case first, so you have to stay silent about this for a little while longer.

"So, when you and your cousin were going in and out of stores, did anybody try to talk to her?" Emily asks Jeremy, Richard and Susan's son and Katie's cousin.

"I don't think so."

"Did somebody maybe compliment her hair or open the door for you guys?"

"He wasn't exactly paying attention," Richard scoffs.

"Yes, I was."

"You'd think after all my years in retail, I'd hate the mall, but it was convenient," Susan sighs.

"She was right next to me, I swear," Jeremy says, but his parents are paying any attention to them.

"Then we split up, because I--I had to shop for my husband's birthday," Susan continues. "I should have stayed near the kids. Now I wish we never left the house this morning.

"That's when you got lost in that video game, right?" Richard asks his son.

"This isn't fair."

You need to get Jeremy away from his parents if you're going to get the whole story from him.

"You know, this may all be a mistake. Katie might just be lost, maybe in some bookstore or something. She loves to read. You know, she could just be in a corner, just, you know--or maybe playing dress-up in a store or something," Richard stutters.

"This image was captured moments before your nephew reported Katie missing," JJ says, showing the image that Penelope was trying to work with.

It's very grainy and hard to see, but it's what you have right now.

"Oh, god," Paul sighs sadly.

"I know the angle's limited, but is there anything or anyone in the frame that you recognize?" Hotch asks.

"No. No. Katie has asthma. She needs her inhaler," Beth whimpers.

"H-how could someone have just taken her in front of all those people?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," you state.

"How do you plan on doing that?"

You could tell him what you can do, but that might upset Richard and Susan into killing Katie. You don't know where she is, but you do know that she is alive.

"We're retracing Katie's steps. We're going over surveillance footage. We're searching every crack and crevice under this roof."

"I want to be out there looking for my girl."

"I'd want to be doing the same thing, but when an abduction is reported, the parents are debriefed separately. It's more efficient that way," Hotch says.

"Hotch, can I talk to you?" you say and gesture to the side. He excuses himself as you two go off to the side. "I know this is too early to determine, but you need to keep an eye on Susan and Richard."

"What do you see?"

"I'll bet my entire career that they're both the unsubs. Out of everyone here, they're the only calm ones as if they know something we don't. Susan is showing fake concern--I see it all over her body. I know I don't have proof, but I will work on getting it. I'll have to talk to Jeremy away from his parents. I'd like to go to the arcade to see what really happened."

"I trust you," he nods. "I'll keep an eye on them."

You leave his side and approach Emily before tapping on her shoulder.

"Hotch gave me permission to talk to Jeremy away from his parents. I'm going to meet Spencer and Derek at the arcade. I'll let you know when I'd like for you to bring him over here."

"You got it."

You leave the group and head straight to the arcade which is thankfully, on the same floor as everyone else. Derek and Spencer are there already talking to each other. When they see you, they break up their conversation.

"So she and her cousin came in here about thirty minutes ago, and that was the last time anyone saw Katie?" you ask them.

"That's right. Ten minutes after the assault is generally the molester's lowest point of self-esteem," Spencer says.

"He could be panicking right about now, realizing he's got a witness."

"Yeah, I doubt it," you say.

"Richard Allen Davis strangled Polly Klaas just to prevent her from identifying him," Spencer says.

"Yeah, well, I met our unsubs, and they don't really seem fazed by all this. I believe our unsubs are Richard and Susan, Katie's aunt and uncle. I need proof, which is why I'm here now. Hopefully, with Jeremy, I'll be able to paint a picture."

"A single abduction like this would normally be classified as a snatch-and-grab, but with the Jessica Davis abduction, it's more likely we're dealing with a preferential offender whose victims fall into a particular type. He came to this mall knowing what he was looking for because he feels safe here, familiar with his surroundings."

"Emily, you can bring Jeremy over," you say over the earpiece. Moments later, Emily brings over the kid before leaving you three to talk to him. "Jeremy, we asked your mom and dad if we could talk privately. Thought it might be easier that way."

"Because my dad thinks this is my fault," he sighs and takes a seat at a nearby table.

"No. Jeremy, your dad is just super upset right now because in times like this, people get really emotional," Spencer says, taking a seat across from him.

You don't comment on what he said because you don't want to upset or worry Jeremy over something he can't control.

"Hey, kid, the moments right before a kidnapping like this are the most important. You gotta understand you're the only one who can help us with that."

"But... I can't remember."

"Jeremy, all we need is the last thing Katie did or said before you realized she was gone."

Jeremy starts to think about it, but the more he does, the more he panics. His breathing picks up, clearly showing the signs that he's having a panic attack.

"I can't breathe," he gasps.

"He's having a panic attack," you jump into action. You sink to your knees and place your hand on his back. "You're okay, Jeremy. Put your head between your knees, okay? It'll help." You guide him to the position you want him in, and you rub his back to comfort him. "Just take deep breaths for me."

This is going to take some time, you can't rush something like this.

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[aglaean]

L'ARACHEL GRACES FÓDLAN!

template taken from @shadoll

PERSONAL INFORMATION

GENDER. Female (she/her)

AGE. 20

HEIGHT. 5'10"

BIRTHDATE. 785

CREST/HOLY BLOOD. None [unless you count the holy blood of the heroes of Rausten, which well, she definitely does].

CLASS. Blue Lions Student!

AFFILIATION. The Theocracy of Rausten

BIOGRAPHY. 

PERSONAL HISTORY

785 ~ Born in Rausten.

790 - Lost both her parents after they attempted to fend off an attack from Darkling Wood.

803 ~ Joins Eirika in the fight against the Demon King.

805 ~ Is welcomed to Garreg Mach with great pomp and splendour, as befitting her station! Obviously.

INTERESTS. Religion, Chivalry and Heroism, Fame, Her Allies. LIKES. Formal dance, her carefully maintained hair, flashy faith magic, novelty, Dozla's hand-knitted jumper, tea parties, riding, divine providence, being quite literally holier-than-thou, attention, general too-much-ness / pomp and circumstance. DISLIKES. Being dismissed, ignored, or unrecognised, monsters, villains and general evil-doers, isolation, loneliness, loss, mundanity, 'weakness'. Rainy days. STATUS. Inheritor to the Pontifex of Rausten, and a prodigous Blue Lions Student!   CLOSE ALLIES: Eirika and Ephraim.

DINING HALL PREFERENCES

LIKES. grilled herring, saghert and cream, fish and bean soup, vegetable pasta salad, small fish skewers, spicy fish and turnip stew, onion gratin soup, sweet and salty whitefish sauté, sweet bun trio, fruit and herring tart, fisherman's bounty, pheasant roast with berry sauce, country style red turnip plate, peach sorbet, pickled seafood and vegetables, two-fish sauté, sautéed pheasant and eggs, cabbage and herring stew, vegetable stir-fry, bourgeois pike. DISLIKES. beast meat teppanyaki, sautéed jerky, garreg mach meat pie, cheesy verona stew, fish sandwich, pickled rabbit skewers, super-spicy fish dango, daphnel stew, gronder meat skewers, gautier cheese gratin, fried crayfish, derdriu-style fried pheasant.

DINING HALL NOTES

FAVORITE DISH.  ✧

“Heavens! This meal.. it's a close match to my darling Rausten's cuisine!.”

LEAST FAVORITE DISH.  ✧

“Surely, this is some jest. You forget who you dine with!”

TEAM TIME GUIDE

FAVORITE TEA. Rose petal blend. CONVERSATION TOPICS. Your ambitions, Evaluating allies, Mighty weapons, The melody of words, Fashion, I'm counting on you, Favourite sweets, Tell me about yourself, You're doing great work, I heard some gossip, Overcoming weaknesses, Gifts you'd like to recieve, Heart-racing memories, Cooking mishaps, The opera, Cute accessories, Thanks for everything, Cats, The existence of crests, Shareable snacks, Stargazing, Dreams of a throne, Someone you look up to.

TEA TIME QUOTES

GREETING.  ✧

(1) “Well, I see you finally worked up the courage to request my shining presence here. I commend you! The divine will continues to flourish.” (2) “Do you suppose that all these sweet little dainties are for us? Come, try this one!.” (3) “You ought to know, I only partake in tea time with people dear to me.” (4) "Please, remain seated! There is no need to rise or bow in my presence. Though if the mood does take you.."

FAVORITE TEA.  ✧

“Why, I would be happy if this was the last thing I ever tasted! I wonder if Eirika would enjoy it...”

FIVE STAR TEA.  ✧

“Uncle and I used to sample brews like this all the time in Rausten! But, please, I am merely mortal, just a divinely sactioned peerless princess! There is no need to make such indulgent gestures. Seconds? Oh, yes please.”

BEING OBSERVED.  ✧

(1) “I understand. It is hard to take in someone as blinding as I all at once.” (2) “You would tell me if I had something in my teeth, right?” (3) “Such is the problem of the renowned, we are always subject to examination! The spotlight isn't for everyone...”

QUIPS.  ✧

“Ouch! Too hot! Too hot!” “Hmm, it smells delicious.” “How pleasant!” “I must say, you blow on your tea with remarkable poise!” “Would you like to hear a fanfare Dozla and I devised?” “Haha!” “I see!” “Lala laaa~” “How fare you?” “Leisure time is essential!’ “How ridiculous!” “A jest?”

ENDING.  ✧

“Do not hesitate to call on me again if you find yourself in need of scintillating conversation! You have given me plenty of ideas for my next tea time.”

FINAL COMMENTS.  ✧

(1) Hold! The most egregious error has come to me! I do believe you have yet to be regailed with my many daring exploits! This might be righted immediately, please, allow me to begin with the time I fought off legions of monsters alongside Dozla... ANSWER. Laugh, Sigh. (2) Whilst Garreg Mach is pleasant, you simply must be recieved for tea at Rausten! I promise you, all else will dull in comparison henceforth! ANSWER. Nod, Blush. (3) Rennac used to say that I was 'noisy' and 'a nuisance'. Poor thing, he did tend to have a habit of wittering in situations of stress. ANSWER. Laugh, Admonish. (4) Do you suppose my parents would be proud of the progress I've made? ANSWER. Nod, Commend. (5) My uncle doesn't permit gambling halls in Rausten... Even though I'm really good at... oh what was that silly card game called? I wonder if the Archbishop would be more receptive...? ANSWER. Admonish, Disagree. (6) Being a favourite of the Gods is tiring work sometimes - the weight of beautitude is not for all to bear! ANSWER. Sigh, Sip tea. (7) Learning to wield a lance is difficult... I wish I could just use my staff to bludgeon foes instead! Answer: Admonish, Disagree. (8) Suppose you were granted eternal fame, at the cost of your life. What would you do? I think it's utter twaddle. If death could be traded for fame, my parent's names would... Death is not the price of renown, I will make sure of it. ANSWER. Nod, Sip tea. (9) Don't tell him, lest he drown you in tears, but I miss Dozla more and more everyday. He was such a good retainer. It's so hard to find someone willing to risk life and limb for you nowadays. Hmm? My eyes? If my eyes are gleaming it's my inner radiance shining through. Nothing more. ANSWER. Sigh, Commend.

MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.

GIFT GUIDE

FAVORITE GIFTS. Tasty Baked Treat, Stylish Hair Clip, Legends of Chivalry, Dapper Handkerchief, Gemstone Beads, Ceremonial Sword, Rose. DISLIKED GIFTS. Training Weight, Whetstone, Blue Cheese, Smoked Meat, Arithmetic Textbook.

GIFT QUOTES

DISLIKED GIFT.  ✧

“As a gracious lady, and ambassador of Rausten, I shall accept. But know you have gone down in my estimation.”

LIKED GIFT.  ✧

“This is quite lovely! Do tell me where you found it? I wish to purchase more for my darling retainers.”

FAVORITE GIFT.  ✧

“Ah, the first of many tributes made in recognition of my splendour! You have secured my everlasting favour.”

LOST ITEMS

Hand-Knitted Jumper. A garishly green jumper that's slightly lumpy, with various straggling threads. The label inside declares it's a gift, signed off by a single 'D'. This probably belongs to someone who enjoys loud clothing. Location found: Dining Hall Diary. It appears to be a diary, but the title, dubs it 'The Chronicles of the Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty' in an incredibly flowery hand. The entries stop adbruptly about a week in. This probably belongs to someone who seeks fame, and not consistency. Location found: Second Floor Hallway Hairbrush. A hairbrush that feels expensive to even handle. There are strands of green hair around the bristles, which are slightly worn down with use. This probably belongs to someone who tends to their hair religiously. Location found: Blue Lions Classroom

LOST ITEM QUOTES

OWNER.  ✧

"I had no fear that it was lost for good! Divine providence ensured it was only a matter of time. But I appreciate your acting as an agent of the Gods.”

NOT OWNER.  ✧

“Do you honestly suppose I would have use for such a thing?”

BATTLE QUOTES

MOCK BATTLE RETREAT.  ✧

“This is but a footnote in my legend!” [Byleth specific] “Professor, do not fear for me! This will not be my end, let it not rest on your conscience. I shall arise anew!”

FIRST KILL.  ✧

“So, such is the cost of everlasting renown.”

MONASTERY QUOTES

CHOIR PRACTICE.  ✧

(1) “You've chosen well! I have a voice that can reach the heavens itself! ” (2) “What, leave? I suppose it wouldn't do to drown everyone else's voices in my own lyrical splendour... But, are you really certain?”

COOKING.  ✧

(1) “Come, come! We musn't dally, there are grateful mouths to supply with our beneficiance!” (2) “But of course it's supposed to turn that colour! That means it's... hm... well-done.” (3) “Behold, hungering souls! Feast upon this veritable cornucopia of cuisine!”

TUTORING

INSTRUCT

BAD.  ✧

“Mm. Apologies, did you say something?.” Critique: Well, there is really no need to take such a tone with your favoured student. The gall! Console: Allow me to try again, this time you will witness my grace!

GREAT.  ✧

“Ah, merely the expected outcome.” “Did you see that?.”

PERFECT.  ✧

“Take my hand, we shall hail in a new of era of light in tandem!” PRAISE. “I appreciate your cultivating my inherent refulgence.”

TASKS

STABLE DUTY. ✧

“Augh! Be so kind as to release my sleeve this instant, please. Divine clothing is not for unrefined palates.”

WEEDING.  ✧

“Perish under the governing hand of your scourge, weeds!”

SKY WATCH.  ✧

“From here, we see as the Gods do!”

FAILED.  ✧

CERTIFICATION EXAMS

“This is of no concern - divine providence will direct me.”

PASSED.  ✧

“Hah! Haha! To possess such devastating beauty AND intelligence in a human form, is it even possible?”

UPDATE GOALS

REASON.  ✧

“There's something so... intoxicating about magic, wouldn't you say? When I use it, I can feel the God's favour flowing through my blood, through my bones. Besides, it is of utmost priority that my attacks reflect the radiance that dwells within. I already have many ideas of how to use these spells to spread my fame...”

LANCE.  ✧

“I know, someone as dainty and gentile as myself with such an ungainly weapon? It seems improper. And yet, I must confess that the allure of bludgeoning my foes is growing harder to deny. Why the lance? Well, I suppose you could say I was inspired.”

FAITH.  ✧

“Are you injured? Oh poor soul! Please, flee to my gentle embrace! Follow the saintly glow of my eyes, and I shall utilise the best of my abilities to nurse you. It is essential to be well-versed in the art of healing. You never know when you'll be encountered with dire straits. With something that seems beyond all hope. ”

LEVEL UP

0 TO 2 STATS UP .  ✧

“Ah, the Gods joy in trials.”

3 TO 4 STATS UP .  ✧

“Please, refrain from excessive applause!”

5 STATS UP .  ✧

“My heroic apotheosis approaches ever closer!”

6 STATS UP .  ✧

“I should not be surprised. The Gods inhabit my every step.”

UPON REACHING LEVEL 99 .  ✧

“Now, onto even greater heights!”

BUDDING TALENT

“Trying something new sounds fun. Naturally, I will excel.”

NEW SKILL

“Ooh! I shall incorporate this into my daring exploits post-haste.”

RECLASSING .  ✧

(1) “Let's try this for today!” (2) “Hee hee- Now, how best to display this new-found splendour?” (3) “The Gods will I change, and so I do.”

BATTLE QUOTES

WHEN SELECTED

FULL/HIGH HP .  ✧

“CHARGE!.”

MEDIUM HP .  ✧

“I will not falter!”

LOW HP .  ✧

“Haah, this is no concern to one as grand as I.”

ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES .  ✧

“Whoops! My gleaming eyes must've blinded you!”

CRTIICAL ATTACK .  ✧

“Were I not a holy woman...” “[Imitating Dozla] GWHAHAH!” “Die, and be ennobled by my hands!” “The Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty is here!” “Sing my praises!”

GAMBIT .  ✧

“I am not alone!”

GAMBIT BOOST .  ✧

“My darling forces, we shall prevail with appropriate spectacle!”

DEFEATED ENEMY .  ✧

“You shall be remembered as the vanquished foe of L'Arachel!” “Latona forgive you.” “Don't return.”

ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY .  ✧

“Woohoo! Again, again!” “Are you challenged by my eminence?” “You need not risk yourself needlessly.”

ALLY HEALS/RALLIES .  ✧

“Well, how unusal!” “A thousand thanks!” “You shall be remembered.” “Come to me if you are harmed, yes?” “To think I would need healing!” “No hero walks alone.” “The Gods restore me!”

DEFEAT QUOTE

CASUAL .  ✧

“This is not how my story ends.”

CLASSIC .  ✧

“Dozla... Rennac... do not forget me.” “Ahhhh, Mother and Father, forgive me for this failing. I shall see you soon.“

THE ADVICE BOX

“Greetings! I have no need of "advice", if I may speak with complete honesty, but such a gimmick intrigued me. Do you suppose I would be permitted to assist? As a princess of the people, I should aid those in need! ” >Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.... > Perhaps aiding people face-to-face is the place to start. (Correct answer) >I doubt anyone would take advice from you, L'Arachel.

[puppy-phum]

10 Characters

tagged by the lovely @i-got-the-feels​​ ♥ thank you a ton! am trying to keep this short (and not too serious so forget about cool character analysis for now sigh) bc tumblr crashed. or my old laptop crashed? when i started this the other night but i won’t be giving up so here goes.

(my love for my blorbos is overflowing so placing all of it under a cut to spare ppl who do not care! but please do know i care about all of your blorbos a ton ♥)

so tagging in return: @dimpledpran @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenlights @psychic-waffles @s1utspeare @talaypuens @laowen​ @snimeat @luna-lina @machikeita​ @eohachu ♥

Fah (Mek Jirakit) Sky in Your Heart

- if i had to pick a (fictional) doctor, this would be the guy ♥ - deserves care and understanding more than anything else, so happy prince is giving that to him (communication! my biggest kink!) - an overgrown puppy on the inside, fighter on the outside - will charm you, your mom, and the whole of your friend group. with one smile. - will be a brat about it

Puen (Jimmy Jitaraphol) Vice Versa

- living his missed childhood in the other universe as he should bc he deserves to be himself for a moment - actually the gentlest man alive - owner of the puppiest puppy eyes you've ever seen, pls don't tell him no - unhinged, horny, and absolutely insufferable. i’m obsessed. - loves taking care of others but is actually a baby ♥ (- jimmy my beloved, i adore thee)

Nam Seonho (Woo Dohwan) My Country: The New Age

- my poor little meow meow. pathetic. broken. doer of evil deeds yet forgiven and loved ♥ - looks absolutely fantastic tortured and wet. i apologize for saying this (not) - his smile is his greatest weapon, be glad he doesn't get to use it too often (which is to say: give him happiness or else) - i would go to war for him, guess me and hwi have something in common - i would also kill his father for him so. idk. hwi take good care of him or i will replace you?

Riku (VA: David Gallagher/Mamoru Miyano) Kingdom Hearts

- i know maybe 10% of his whole story but he's my blorbo by choice - the emo boy of my heart ♥ - cool hair my dude, glad it's smaller now - i cry every time he's on screen while i play kh3 bc he's just So Good - did i tell you he's a cliché emo boy antagonist(?) bc he totally is

Cha Siwon (Kang Eunbin) Blueming

- never will move on from his story arc and all that happened there - he just really gets it. he really gets how hard it is to be loved in the wrong ways, in the ways you cannot enjoy, and then trying to accept the right ways, the ways you can enjoy ♥ - one of the best bl characters i've ever had the pleasure of watching - no one is allowed to hurt him - cradle him and tell him he's good the way he is, i beg

Bai Choufei (Liu Yuning) Heroes

- i have never ever before been this angry for a fictional character - like yeah i know he's The Worst but he deserved better (from the writers) and i will fight about that - he loves wang xiaoshi so much it's making me want to howl - the prettiest ♥ like pls if evil why so sexy - catch me talking about his final "it hurts" line even when am 80yo and in a retirement home, that shit hurted (- liu yuning the man that you are ;; ♥)

Tin (Tae Darvid) Triage

- now i feel bad about picking fah as my doctor guy bc tin's here too but ER is different i swear - the character development for him? phenomenal - someone who loves cats cannot be a bad guy - goofiest and the most endearing smile, i love he ♥ - his willpower so strong i bet it would've brought him back from the dead even without tol

Kan (Neo Trai) The Eclipse

- there are parts of me in this boy and i hate staring into the mirror every friday - but at the same time all i wanna do is pick him apart bc he's Me - if i could collect his smiles into a jar and keep that for the dark days of winter i would - he is so soft it's driving me insane ;; like who hurt you, i will fight them - never thought i'd love a neo character like this, yet here we are ♥

Five (Aidan Gallagher) The Umbrella Academy

- my fave 15yo grandpa, an absolute icon for us old souls - the best humor ♥ - so young, so old, so tired of this bullshit we call life. why must we remain - the oldest brother yet gets zero respect in that household - i actually adore how smart he is yet he's also just So Dumb (but does this family even own a braincell? questions for the universe)

Theo (Book Kasidet) Enchanté

- when we ignore the ending of this show, he truly is my beloved ♥ - theo losing his faith to love hit me like a truck. i never recovered. - i am so happy he got his own love tho, happiness looks so good on him ♥ (and so does marriage! thank you vv for that ;; new forcebook series when????) - the maker of chaos, the doer of tiny evils. cat behavior i'd say - his closet is to die for

thank you once more for tagging me and thank you for reading! let's see again, maybe next year, with yet another random assortment of characters :'D 

[melbmemories]

The Prison Hulk 'Success' in Drycock 1923.

In December 1851 there were only 29 people in prison in Victoria. Two years later there were 955. The Victorian gold rush lured to Victoria ex-convicts and escapees from New South Wales and Van Diemen's Land who re-offended and were sent to prison. The prisons soon became overcrowded, the Victorian government decided to use prison hulks. In 1852 it purchased the ship ‘President’ and had it fitted out as a floating prison. But the prison population continued to rise, so the following year the government purchased the ‘Deborah’, the ‘Success’ and the ‘Sacramento’ for conversion into prison ships, followed by the ‘Lysander’ in 1854. The ships had their masts removed and were anchored off Williamstown on Hobson's Bay. They held the worst offenders in the penal system.

The hulks were intended to be a ‘terror to evil-doers', so conditions were extremely harsh. Prisoners were kept in irons below decks, in cramped conditions with no work and no books. For minor offences they were sent to solitary confinement in dark cells below the waterline.

In 1853, John Price was appointed as the Inspector General of Penal Establishments. The Age described him as ‘a man whose leading characteristics appear to be cunning and cruelty’. The conditions on the hulks became even worse under his authoritarian rule - Price took a personal interest in inflicting additional punishment on prisoners. They were put in irons for their entire sentence, and violence and cruel punishments were condoned.

In March 1857, Price went to Williamstown to hear the grievances of the prisoners on the hulks. One prisoner threw clods of earth at him, others threw heavy stones. He was then kicked, beaten and struck with picks and shovels. He died the following day.

In 1885 the Victorian government ordered that the five prison hulks be broken up. The ‘Deborah’ and ‘Sacramento’ were gradually dismantled. The ‘Success’ survived until 1945, after touring the world as ‘the famous Australian convict ship. - Info from: Lynn, P & Armstrong, G 1996, From Pentonville to Pentridge.

Source: Tony Beyer

[dumuzithemessiah]

I favour no human race

As a yazata I have to judge every wrong done by any human race and any alien race, got that?

Meaning I don’t favour white people nor black people or any other race so if you’re gonna cry that I called put your cowardly race’s evil shit then get a brain check!

I ain’t human so guess what? Calling a god racist just proves my point that you humans are nothing but straight up cowards!

Dear humans: You break the law - especially the Universal and Multiversal laws - you get what’s coming to you!

Humanity broke so many Universal and Multiversal laws that it really shows why on J-Day that the human race will be going extinct!

Because you selfish humans care only about yourselves! Your laws protect evil doers like those who worship man made religions! Man made religions spread hate, war, actual racism, anti alien behaviour, real racism against demons which did nothing wrong ever in any demon’s life no demon did nothing wrong!

You black people think you have it bad? Imagine how demons feel as many work hard to protect innocent lives and others just live normal lives! But humans and evil spirits blame them for everything they do wrong like a bunch of cowardly racist hateful scumbags!

Dear humanity: Only one to blame for your evil behaviour is YOU and ONLY YOU!

Demons like all Nibirians resemble anthropomorphic bipedal sapient animals that have toony like body portions like big heads, big eyes, thin arms and thin legs, petite bodies, tiny necks, and can be described as clothed Animal Crossing characters, or clothed Sonic characters, or like clothed rubber hose toons, or animeish like toon like anthropomorphic animals in general…

They also have manes aka hair so they aren’t just furred, scaled, etc, so you humans? Yeah you’re the racist pigs here…

Man made religions caused zillions lives to die and how you may ask? Evil energy is created by doing either evil things or worshipping false deities aka worshipping false religions!

Evil energy then damages the Kosmos and causes shockwaves to be produced in self defense and the Universe cannot exist without a Kosmos as the Kosmos is the heart and soul of the Universe! Every Universe has a Kosmos! Humans are threatening all living things both normal and advanced by damaging the Kosmos with their hateful ass bloodthirsty man made religions of pure hate and evil!

Christianity? Islamism? Other man made religions? Deep down they all thirst for blood and death of innocent lives! They are outlawed in the Universal Council for a damn good reason!

Also you know how the false Messiah Jesus is commonly depticted as a white man? That man is Cesare Borgia an illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI an Italian man!

Did the Roman Empire really fall? Or do Italians dictate over people’s lives still? Because why is Latin - an extinct Italian language- used like a holy language? Why is the false Messiah Jesus depicted as an Italian man? Why is the Vatican have their own government or why is the Vatican suspiciously near Italy?

Don’t believe Italians about the past as they’re nothing but hateful power hungry racist liars!

As the real Messiah I look nothing Cesare Borgia - I like all male Nibirians look pretty, cute, beautiful, and magical.

Female Nibirians are strong, rough, burly, macho, and tough.

So Nibirians have reverse gender standards to that of humans pretty much.

Nibirians adult wise average 2’0”-2’7” with males shorter and females taller.

Nibirian adult weight range is 2.5-4.5 pounds so we’re not heavy either.

Personally my god aka yazata form is 2’3” and weights 3 pounds.

You humans made things the way they are with how the gods and goddesses view humanity. Blame yourselves.

My profile pic is how a yazata aka a male god looks like.

Yazata aka gods/goddesses are winged bipedal anthropomorphic felines with manes, crystal horns on their head, three toed foot print on our torsos, five fingered paws, three toed feet, large eyes, white muzzles, lemonade yellow fur, males have fingerless elbow length glove markings on their arms and toeless knee length sock markings on their legs, ears markings, and males have eye shadow markings. Females have solid plain fur and thicker arms and legs but still way thinner then human limbs as like I compared us to rubber hose style toons should give you humans a good idea what we look like!

In short we look nothing like you and don’t share the same gender standards as you humans who love to force your gender standards onto others and force others to be like you and if others refuse you verbally and physically abuse them!

Nibirians can same gender reproduce as the child comes out in a light!

Meaning Ishtayr is the major villain here as she forced me a gay yazata - whom FYI yazata are either gay or rarely bi - in a unwanted marriage - then brutally tortured me with fire, physical abuse, flaming spiders, grape without the g which females can shape shift out a you know what - hurt my kids, my true lover Marduk, hurt my family - mass murdered millions with the help of humanity’s evil energy - and is The Great Evil herself reincarnated!

Ishtayr is nothing like other deities as she is The Great Evil herself reincarnated whom in the first Universe was unintentionally created and tried to murder everyone in the original First Universe but was stopped by me who sacrificed myself with a spell that shattered us both, causing the Multiverse to exist, I now in the Eighth Universe meaning the Kosmos regenerated a few times already have to face her once again!

Meaning femnazis? The Fell Goddess is female not male as you femnazi women love to attack men about everything! And what she did puts her as the Universe and Multiverse’s worst and most evil villainess in both the Universe and Multiverse!

So yeah? God who created the Universe, Kosmos, Multiverse? Me! God who’s domains are life, winter, death, reincarnation, resurrection, foxes, hedgehogs, darkness, dreams, nightmares, rainbows, moonbows, etc, got more but I am the real deal and also the Messiah aka Hero of Rainbows as what the true meaning of Messiah is in fact Hero of Rainbows!

If you LGBT give up your man made beliefs on J-Day I will spare your soul and allow it to reincarnate, while others will have to be judged properly…

Oh and trans people? Sorry my kind working in the Underworld aka Kohora made mistakes and got your soul reincarnated in the wrong gender body - we rather you get the help you require as long as you don’t worship man made religions which FYI most if not all religions are made by man - so just get help - unlike false deities we aren’t against it!

And Non Binary people? We kinda don’t understand you but my kind aren’t against you either really…

So yeah my kind the real deities aren’t so bad as we work to protect others, keep peace and order in the Universe and Multiverse, keep other planets safe, and keep the Kosmos protected.

And like I said during the First Universe that The Great Evil herself attacked? That was the only time Nibiru’s surface faced war! Since then no war has happened! Meaning Nibiru? Safest planet in the Universe and Multiverse! And this Universe which descended from the Original First Universe? Is the last universe to fight Ishtayr!

So yeah on J-Day? In order to save the Kosmos the human race simply has to go, the Reptilians aliens have to go, Ishtayr has to be down right destroyed, as my kind isn’t gonna let you humans get your way and destroy the Kosmos which would blow up the universe and will heavily damage other universes! So my kind is only coming to Earth to protect all other species in the Universe!

As while magical beings can escape such destruction - other non magical beings cannot escape and would perish if such were allowed to happen…

This is both a rant and truth post btw so you humans shouldn’t complain about a heads up to your future as you’ll need it in order to hopefully save your own soul as dying and reincarnating is better then dying and ceasing to exist completely!

My homeplanet can become intangible, invisible, and is way like way tons larger than Jupiter! We also have other magical planets for Nibirians to live on!

Kohora aka the Underworld/Below World exists below the Universe while above the Universe is Yumera aka Dream World/Dimension…

Koho means below while yume means dream so ra means world.

In Yumera there are creatures well you know the NiGHTS into Dreams series? They exist! But different looking! Ideya also is a thing but there are thirteen of them - hence why 13 is a holy number on Nibiru! 666 is too because of my dragon form which has six eyes, six wings, and six legs!

Go to my deviantART page DumuziTheMessiah if you wanna see what my dragon form looks like!

[loverandservantoftheahlulbayt]

🍃🕊🍃 An Account of Shaiya (as) and Haiqooq (as)

🍃 Ibn Babawayh and al-Qutb al-Rawandi have related from Wahab ibn Munabbah that during the tenure of Shaiya there was a king in The Israelites. The king as well as his subjects were obedient to the divine commands initially. But later they introduced innovations in their religion. Shaiya tried his best to restrain them and also warned them of divine retribution but to no avail. Allah made King Babel to reign over them. When they realized their inability to match his power they sought forgiveness of Allah. Allah revealed to Shaiya that due to the piety and righteousness of their ancestors He had accepted their repentance.

The ruler of these people was afflicted with a boil on his thigh. It was cancerous. The king was obedient to Allah and he was a righteous person.

Allah revealed to Shaiya to advise the king to make a bequest and select a person from his family who should be designated as his legatee among The Israelites and that Allah shall cause his death on a particular date.

Shaiya conveyed the divine message to the king. When he heard it he beseeched Allah with all humility, “O my Lord! You had been benevolent to me since the day I was born and bestowed upon me every bounty. In spite of this I do not repose hope in anyone except You. I have faith in You alone. I praise You and expect goodness from You without having performed any good deed and to become deserving of the same. You are more informed of my affairs than I myself am. O Allah! Postpone my death and increase my age and keep me firm on the path that You like best.”

Allah revealed to Shaiya, “I had pity on his lamentation and accepted his invocation and gave him another fifteen years. Tell him to cure his cancerous wound by fig juice. Because I have appointed the cure of his discomfort and wound in that water. I have also guaranteed safety for him and The Israelites from their enemies.”

So the next morning Shaiya saw that the army of Babel was routed completely. Only the king remained alive and with him were five persons. All of them ran towards Babel. After this the people of The Israelites remained pious and on the path of guidance until the time the king departed from this temporal world. Again the people reverted to evil deeds and disobedience and each of them laid claim to the throne. Shaiya tried his best to reform them but to no avail and in the end all of them were destroyed.

It is reported in another tradition that ‘Abdullah bin Salaam asked the Holy Prophet about Shaiya and he said, “He conveyed to The Israelites the good news of my Prophethood and Messengership and the Prophethood of ‘Isa.”

According to authentic chain of narrators, Amir al-Mu’minin ‘Ali said, “Allah revealed to Shaiya that He is about to destroy 40000 of the evil doers and 60000 righteous people of his community. Shaiya said, “O my Lord! Why do you destroy the righteous ones?” Allah said, “Because they flattered them and begged favors from them and did not become angry at them due to My anger (neither did they try to restrain the evil people from bad deeds).”

Authentic chains of narrators mention that Imam al-Ridha asked the Christian priest in Al-Ma’mun’s assembly what information he had about the book of Shaiya. The priest replied that he was conversant with every letter of the book. Imam addressed the Rabbi Raasul Jalut, “It is mentioned in the book of Shaiya that he said, O my people! I saw a rider on a mule. He was clothed in garments of light and I saw a rider on a camel. His light and luminescence was like a bright moon.” Both the priests admitted that it was true. Imam said that Shaiya has mentioned in Torah that he saw two riders and their splendor shall illuminate the whole world. One of them shall ride a tall mule and one shall ride a camel. “Who are the two personalities mentioned by Shaiya?” asked Imam. Raasul Jalut admitted ignorance and appealed to Imam to enlighten him. Imam said, “The person on the mule refers to ‘Isa and rider on the horse indicated Muhammad al-Mustafa. Do you reject this saying of Torah?” “No! we cannot reject this”, they said, Then Imam al-Ridha asked “Do you know about Prophet Haiqooq?” “Yes” they replied, “We know about him.” “Have you not read the verse where he says-The truth became manifest from Mount Paran and the skies filled with the praise of Allah. His people and his riders shall battle in the seas and in the deserts too. He shall bring a new book from Allah after the destruction of Jerusalem. The ‘Book’ means Qur’an. Are you aware of these words? Do you have faith in these words?” Raasul Jalut said, “These are the words of Haiqooq, we certainly believe in his words.”

Some books mention that The Israelites plotted to kill Shaiya. He went away from them and reached under a tree. The tree trunk split and became spacious for him. He entered the split tree trunk and it joined once more. Satan caused a corner of his garment to stick outside and told The Israelites that Shaiya is hiding in the tree. The people sawed the tree in half with Shaiya in it.

🍃🕊🍃 al-Islam.org 🍃🕊🍃

.

[dailytafsirofquran]

Tafsir Ibn Kathir: Surah Hud Ayah 114-115

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.

11:114 And perform the Salah, at the two ends of the day and in some hours of the night.

Verily, the good deeds remove the evil deeds. That is a reminder for the mindful.

11:115 And be patient; verily, Allah wastes not the reward of the doers of good.

The Command to establish the Prayer

Allah says;

And perform the Salah, at the two ends of the day and in some hours of the night. Verily, the good deeds remove the evil deeds. That is a reminder for the mindful.

Alib in Abi Talhah reported that Ibn Abbas said (And perform the Salah, at the two ends of the day),

"This is referring to the morning prayer (Subh) and the evening prayer (Maghrib).''

The same was said by Al-Hasan and Abdur- Rahman bin Zayd bin Aslam.

In one narration reported by Qatadah, Ad-Dahhak and others, Al-Hasan said,

"It means the morning prayer (Subh) and the late afternoon prayer (Asr).''

Mujahid said,

"It is the morning prayer at the beginning of the day and the noon prayer (Zuhr) and late afternoon prayer (Asr) at the end of the day.''

This was also said by Muhammad bin Ka`b Al- Qurazi and Ad-Dahhak in one narration from him.

(and in some hours of the night)

Ibn Abbas, Mujahid, Al-Hasan and others said,

"This means the night prayer (Isha').''

Ibn Al-Mubarak reported from Mubarak bin Fadalah that Al-Hasan said,

"This means the evening (Maghrib) and late night (Isha') prayers.

The Messenger of Allah said,

They are the approach of the night: Maghrib and Isha'.

The same was said by Mujahid, Muhammad bin Ka`b, Qatadah and Ad-Dahhak (that this means the Maghrib and Isha' prayers).

It should be noted that this verse was revealed before the five daily prayers were made obligatory during the night of Isra' (the Prophet's night journey to Jerusalem). At that time there were only two obligatory prayers: a prayer before sunrise and a prayer before sunset.

During the late night another prayer (Tahajjud) was also made obligatory upon the Prophet and his nation. Later, this obligation was abrogated for his nation and remained obligatory upon him. Finally, this obligation was abrogated for the Prophet as well, according to one opinion. Allah knows best.

The Good Deeds wipe away the Evil Deeds

Concerning Allah's statement,

Verily, the good deeds remove the evil deeds.

This is saying that the performance of good deeds is an expiation of previous sins.

This has been mentioned in a Hadith recorded by Imam Ahmad and the Sunan Compilers, that the Commander of the faithful, Ali bin Abi Talib, said,

"Whenever I used to hear a narration from the Messenger of Allah, Allah would cause me to benefit by it however He willed. If anyone informed me of any statement that he said, I would make him swear (by Allah) that the Prophet said it. If he swore by Allah, then I would believe him. Abu Bakr once told me -- and Abu Bakr was truthful -- that he heard the Messenger of Allah say,

There is not any Muslim who commits a sin, then he makes Wudu and prays two units of prayer, except that he will be forgiven (that sin).

In the Two Sahihs it is recorded that the Commander of the faithful, Uthman bin Affan made Wudu for the people (to see), just like the Wudu of the Messenger of Allah. Then he said,

"I saw the Messenger of Allah make Wudu' like this, and he said,

Whoever makes Wudu like this Wudu of mine, then he prays two units of prayer in which he does not speak to himself, he will be forgiven for his previous sins.

In the Sahih it is recorded that Abu Hurayrah said that the Messenger of Allah said,

Do you think that if there was a flowing river at the door of anyone of you and he bathed in it five times every day, would there be any dirt left on him?

They said, "No, O Messenger of Allah!''

He said;

This is like the five daily prayers, for Allah uses them to wipe away the sins and wrongdoings.

Muslim recorded in his Sahih that Abu Hurayrah said that the Messenger of Allah used to say,

The five daily prayers, Jumu`ah (Friday prayer) to Jumu`ah and (the fast of) Ramadan to Ramadan are expiations for whatever sins were committed between them, as long as you stay away from the major sins.

Al-Bukhari recorded Ibn Mas`ud saying that;

a man kissed a woman (who was not his relative or wife). He then came to the Prophet and informed him about the incident. Thus, Allah revealed,

And perform Salah, at the two ends of the day and in some hours of the night. Verily, the good deeds remove the evil deeds. )11:114(

The man then said, "O Messenger of Allah, is this only for me?''

The Prophet replied,

This is for all of my (Ummah) followers.

Al-Bukhari recorded this narration in the Book of Prayer as well and the Book of Tafsir.

Imam Ahmad recorded that Ibn Abbas said that;

a man came to Umar and said that a woman came to do business with him. During the course of their business, he took her into his place and did everything with her except the actual act of sexual intercourse.

Umar said, "Woe unto you! She probably was a woman whose husband is away (fighting) in the path of Allah.''

The man said, "Of course she was.''

Umar then said, "Go to Abu Bakr and ask him about this.''

The man went to Abu Bakr and asked him about the matter.

Abu Bakr said, "She probably was a woman whose husband is away (fighting) in the path of Allah,'' just as Umar had said.

Then he went to the Prophet and told him the same story. The Prophet said,

She probably was a woman whose husband is away (fighting) in the path of Allah.

Then a verse of Qur'an was revealed,

And perform the Salah, at the two ends of the day and in some hours of the night. Verily, the good deeds remove the evil deeds.

The man then said, "O Messenger of Allah! Is this verse only for me, or does it apply to all of the people in general?''

Umar then struck the man on his chest with his hand and said, "No, rather it is for all of the people in general.''

(Umar has spoken the truth)

[alyosiuscreightonward]

Dear Diary.

I cut people off with ease. You disrespect me or try me, I have no time for that.

Nor will I ever think of you again!

Forgive & move on!

- - - - - - - I cut and pasted this. I found this on another social media site. This really hit me. I’ve been that person. If one day I just felt that I had no more choices or at least had not found another option, you’re dead to me. I’ve also been that vicious caustic acidic soul crushing person. The Demolition Man. One minute, there’s a metropolis and the next minute, it’s razed erased eradicated and there’s no evidence that anything was there in the first place. I’ve destroyed people for the absolutely stupidest thing ever. They were breathing. Then I’d be like, they’ve been dead since Christopher Columbus and we’re still not getting it.

Also I’m an extremely forgiving person. Some people have told me that I do too much for people. I’ve gotten a phone call at some ungodly hour of the morning and driven to save that person. I expect nothing from them. If I’m being a tad over dramatic and played up the situation, they’d say that it’s enough and they need to go as I was going through the minutiae of the story. Granted I will tell you the truth and nothing but the truth and yet I might leave a piece or two of the puzzle out of the story. I just know that the person who is listening to the story, they’re losing their minds because of the fact that I’m not the evil doer here. Yet I gave the other person permission to fuck my shit up and I actually allowed it to happen. I let them walk all over me. I did it because I thought they would like me even more. I did it because I thought they would love me even more. Talk about living under the delusion.

As of recently I had a friend who I had connected with on a level that I hadn’t been on in a long time. She’s been having her own issues and I’ve attempted to be supportive and reach out to her. Days will go by and nothing. Then I get a text or a message from her saying blah blah blah and that she’s going through some shit. I’m suspicious of the response but I do let it go and move on. I’m not doing that anymore. I can’t. I won’t. I’m in a different space now and I just cannot and I will not.

It’s like lyrics from a song, time heals all wounds or something similar to that drivel. The wound has not actually healed and physically it may have healed and left a scar but I now can cope. I can talk about it or write about it and I don’t get upset about it. Like that one time I got mugged and I had shit taken off my person yet I was unharmed physically but the emotional impact is still here. I knew that I would just say, here this is what I have on me. Take it. Walk away. Back when it happened, there no cameras on the subway platform as there are today. There’d be a panic button available today but not when this happened. Telling the transit police, I was just standing there waiting for the A-Train at Rockaway Beach and some group of guys all pulled out knives and threatened me and I gave them everything I had on me. What would they do? Honey Child, sometimes shit happens and the perp doesn’t get caught. It took me two hours to get home instead of the forty-five minutes it would’ve taken had I not been mugged. That’s just one example but there are other stories but why dwell? I have the capacity to dwell on shit and go into an abyss of feelings. Now that I’m meds, I need to continue to take steps forward and maybe one day I’ll have a chance to take that one giant leap.

So I’ve left many people behind and I’m a better person because of it. Thanks for the memories. I look at my foster children and everything they went through. Then I look at the adults that were there. It all went thermonuclear and it did fade away but it continues to radiate energy. I make the conscious and deliberate effort to keep myself out of it and keep it from entering my mind or body. I know quite well what I did and I know how it hurts and yet none of them can say the same. I allowed it to happen and now I’m just putting up a boundary and that wall will never ever be torn down. Nope. I can easily talk about it and I might be upset about it but I’m not going back there until I have confirmation that they have actually passed away. I know it’s that easy for me to quote Moms Mabley, “They say you shouldn’t say nuthin about the dead unless it’s good. He’s dead. Good.”Nope.

What? I didn’t suffer? I didn’t have pain? I didn’t feel some kind of way? Motherfucker, they need to get a grip. They all need to get with it. They all need to go find the meaning of the word Acceptance, Accountability, Acknowledgement and Affirmation. They all need to learn the meaning behind Listen Explore Acknowledge and Respond. Listen to the words that are being spoken. Get down to the etymology of the words. Then realize that they were also being caustic and acidic. They are being oblivious to what they did to me and I will continue to crumple them up like a piece of paper and I will toss them out and into the bin. Nope. I have no reflexes. I have no reaction. I will say shit and then I will spit on the ground with absolute disgust.

So, now it’s simple 🤷‍♀️

[thepermanentrainpress]

BRASS CAMEL: BRASS

Brass – Brass Camel Release Date: September 9th, 2022

Track Listing:

1. First Contact 2. Dinger’s in the Back 3. I’ve Got the Fox 4. Pressure Cooker 5. King for a Day 6. Last Flight of the Vulcan 7. Easy 8. Shaking in my Boots 9. Only Love

Brass Camel’s LP Brass is an electrifying, retro smoke show. Its invigorating rock, jazz and blues blend gives listeners a scorching spectacular soundscape. Animated melodies and lyrics make the tracks a feast for the mind. The music is expertly mixed, producing a magnetic and cohesive collection that feels equal parts familiar and fresh.

“Dinger’s in the Back” is distinctive and fun. Daniel Sveinson’s classically sharp rock vocals pierce strong electric guitar riffs, as atmospheric lyrics pump up the party: “From the Hindenburg to the Albert Hall / the man won’t stop until he’s rocked them all.” “I’ve Got the Fox” is a funky pedal to the metal. Heavy guitar riffs and glossy synths rev up in a tune perfect for street racing. Curtis Arsenault’s electric bass is marvelously murky and thick, while Wyatt Gilson’s drums strut in a confident stride. Rich imagery is ignited by the lyrics: “Five litre demon cleaner rolling down the block / Burnt rubber one hundred metres shows you what it has got / Feeling like Jackie Stewart when I pull up to the spot.”

Galactic grunge settles in “Pressure Cooker.” Melodies dig in deep, as Sveinson and Arsenault harmonize in a colourful contrast. A heroic story marred by confrontation and retribution: “The fighting out in the streets / Of cities built on lies and deceit / Now we're really feeling the heat / Feels like we're living in a pressure cooker.”

Standout track on the album “King for a Day” is splendid satire; a fascinating musical interpretation of political power. “A legacy of spite and subjugation / Of wretched acts far beyond redemption / Was never in the plan when it all began / But the road to hell is paved with good intention.” Kaleidoscope-like call backs are scattered throughout the song, twisting and turning complex synths and electric guitars. The drums are quick, jumpy and bold. In a similar vein to Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy-use of iconic rock ballads, “Last Flight of the Vulcan” is a captivating retro-futuristic Star Trek homage. Sveinson’s electric guitar solo is impressively epic with shards of electric notes quickly building on top of each other. The lyrics transport you into interstellar ambience: “Tireless travels belting through the night and day / Outline of a delta that you can't mistake / Cratered fields reminders of the trails blazed.” 

“Easy” is wickedly groovy. “If only it had been easy / Could have been a real bad man / A calculated evil doer / A night-stalking saboteur.” An undercurrent of menacing piano and agile saxophone add elegance to a gothic scene. While the song still maintains the album’s classic synth pizazz and overall electric sound, the darker tones of “Easy” make it a remarkable experience.

If you’re looking for an energetic surge, Brass Camel has you covered. With charismatic vocals, striking guitar, cosmic synths and pounding drums, Brass is a stylish and slick reverence to the rock gods.

Written by: Jenna Keeble

[the-hem]

“Insight for Humanity.” The Advent Contemplations, Part 16. From Surah Ali Imran, contained in the Glorious Quran.

In #15 Muhammad says we have to be thorough. Not only are the Good and Godly visible, they commit to results. There are signs the inner world, hidden in the heart belongs to Allah and not to some shitty trashy little god of corruption, who complains and squabbles all day long over bullshit crap while suffering and desolation are scourging the surface of the globe. 

It is holiday time after almost three years of quarantine. There is war happening, employment statistics are morbid, food prices are cheaper on the planet Mars, guns are going off like some midshipman just got some, and what are we being treated to? Threats of prosecution over the use of abortafacients, legal action against marriages some straight white man doesn’t approve of. 

Always with the abortions, making the Jews pray to Jesus, preventing the distribution and reading of the Quran, hand wringing over how people marry and sex, and dress themselves, always always always things stay the same. 

What does the Prophet say about this??? Fire the bitches: 

˹Remember, O  Prophet,˺ when you said to the believers, “Is it not enough that your Lord will send down a reinforcement of three thousand angels for your aid?”

Most certainly, if you ˹believers˺ are firm and mindful ˹of Allah˺ and the enemy launches a sudden attack on you, Allah will reinforce you with five thousand angels designated ˹for battle˺.

Allah ordained this ˹reinforcement˺ only as good news for you and reassurance for your hearts. And victory comes only from Allah—the Almighty, All-Wise— to destroy a group of the disbelievers and humble the rest, causing them to withdraw in disappointment.

You ˹O Prophet˺ have no say in the matter.1 It is up to Allah to turn to them in mercy or punish them, for indeed they are wrongdoers.

To Allah ˹alone˺ belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. He forgives whoever He wills, and punishes whoever He wills. And Allah is All-Forgiving, Most Merciful.’

This planet and the lives upon it, how they are lived belong to the persons to whom Allah gave them. They are not subject to the sacrilege of religions or politics. There is a natural order within each of us, one whose expression is protected legally and these protections cannot be violated or attacked. 

These laws are what is meant by Allah reinforcing His mindfulness of us. When rule of law, Allah’s fortification is under assault, the response, as Muhammad said, must be visible, swift, decisive, deadly. 

The Quran says over and over, almost no time must be spent enduring the lash of a tyrant or a hypocrite. There simply isn’t enough of it, and there is no way to include practices of prejudice, discrimination, and apartheid in our way of life anywhere on this world and expect happiness and long-life will result. 

For despots and their followers, we have had way to much mercy and tolerance and this has to stop. They can’t be forgiven, they must be driven off this world they cannot be allowed to return. That would be a waste of time: 

O believers! Do not consume interest, multiplying it many times over. And be mindful of Allah, so you may prosper.

Guard yourselves against the Fire prepared for the disbelievers.

Obey Allah and the Messenger, so you may be shown mercy.

And hasten towards forgiveness from your Lord and a Paradise as vast as the heavens and the earth, prepared for those mindful ˹of Allah˺.

˹They are˺ those who donate in prosperity and adversity, control their anger, and pardon others. And Allah loves the good-doers.

˹They are˺ those who, upon committing an evil deed or wronging themselves, remember Allah and seek forgiveness and do not knowingly persist in sin—and who forgives sins except Allah?

Their reward is forgiveness from their Lord and Gardens under which rivers flow, staying there forever. How excellent is the reward for those who work ˹righteousness˺!

Similar situations came to pass before you, so travel throughout the land and see the fate of the deniers.

This1 is an insight to humanity—a guide and a lesson to the God-fearing.

The Quran is asking us to prepare the world for people that want to be happy and spend their time accumulating more and better memories of when they were happy and at ease. Let us pay attention to it. 

[handeaux]

17 Curious (And Occasionally Famous) Cincinnati Dogs

Early Aeronaut

Richard Clayton, proprietor of a watch shop on the corner of Sycamore and Second streets in Cincinnati, gained international fame in 1835 when he flew a balloon from Cincinnati to Monroe County, Virginia. Shortly after liftoff from an amphitheater on Court Street, between Race and Elm, Clayton released a parachute which descended slowly to earth. Suspended from the parachute was a little (and unnamed) dog, who was returned safely to its owner. The owner refused large sums of money to part with his pioneering aeromutt.

Lusus Naturae

Cincinnati witnessed the birth of a most unusual dog in 1858. A bull terrier owned by Smith Betts of Western Row (today’s Central Avenue) gave birth to a litter including a puppy with three normal legs and a foreleg from which, where a paw should have been located, was a perfectly formed puppy head. According to the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune [17 May 1858]: “The little curiosity was as lively as a cricket, but Mr. Betts procured the service of a lad, who, for a dime, drowned it in the canal.”

Dog Days At The Zoo

In its early days, the Cincinnati Zoo offered displays of dogs. On the Zoo’s opening day in 1875, visitors could view a Newfoundland, two mastiffs, some poodles, “Danish hounds” (Great Danes) and greyhounds. Some of these dogs were trained performers, but others merely illustrated unfamiliar breeds. Cincinnatians could purchase dogs from the Zoo if they wished. The Zoo advertised Saint Bernard dogs especially as “docile . . . but a terror to tramps and evil-doers.”

A Canine Con Artist

Attorney John J. McCarthy had a friend who owned a dog. The dog preferred the company of Mr. McCarthy to that of his actual owner. As the Enquirer [27 January 1891] told it, the dog, on command, would sit up, wear a hat and smoke a cigar while displaying the “most sage look.” McCarthy turned down multiple offers to sell the dog, repeatedly explaining that he did not own the mutt. Some buyers persisted, however, to the extent that McCarthy took their money and turned over the dog. After every purchase, however, the dog was back at McCarthy’s feet within the hour.

A Dog With A Job

Willie Theobald was a clerk at the American District Messenger Office on Vine Street in 1894 and he owned a dog named Purp who followed him to work. In the days before email and faxes, a lot of business communication traveled through the city by messenger and Willie supervised a troop of young messengers – and a dog. While Willie sat at his desk, making assignments, Purp accompanied messengers on their rounds and often delivered messages on his own. Purp waited patiently until the receipt book was signed, then trotted back to Willie to await his next task.

A Vet’s Pride

Veterinarian L.A. Anderson was known throughout Cincinnati because of his dog, Jeff, esteemed to be the smartest canine in town. One day in 1894, Jeff was, as was his habit, holding the reins of his master’s horse while Dr. Anderson attended to some business. When a rainstorm blew up, Jeff led the horse onto the pavement and under the awning of a nearby store. As the rain abated, Jeff led the horse back into the street to await Dr. Anderson’s return.

It’s Not easy Being Green

Oscar A. Stuckenberg, a clerk in the city engineering office, donated to Cincinnati’s Natural History Museum the freshly deceased body of a greyhound pup which had died 36 hours after birth, 23 February 1897. The color of its coat was distinctly asparagus green, except the head, which was the ordinary grey color. Museum curators scrubbed the corpse with soap, then soaked it in alcohol for several hours, but were unable to remove the color. “Mr. Stuckenberg's assurance that the pup was born with the green color can not be doubted,” they concluded.

Pug In Lieu Of A Ring

Margaret Harrison was one of the most sought-after young ladies in Cincinnati, if not for her own charms then for the riches of her father, Learner Blackman Harrison, president of the First National Bank. She accepted the proposal of Ezra Howard Child, son of a wealthy Massachusetts manufacturer but, it being 1900, thought engagement rings were too old-fashioned for a modern couple and requested a dog instead. Margaret’s fiancé complied, and a pug, decorated with a white satin ribbon, accompanied her throughout the ceremony, attended by one hundred guests, at her parent’s house on Grandin Road.

Cincinnati’s Most Intelligent Dog

Word got around in 1902 that Prince, a white and brown water spaniel owned by Mr. and Mrs. Walter M. Wirthwine of Evanston, could do anything except speak. The Wirthwines talked to Prince continually as they trained him and this, it was believed, educated Prince to understand every word spoken, so that he followed every command to the letter. Although 10 years old, Prince was described as frisky as a puppy, and much beloved by the neighbors on Harvard Avenue.

Cincinnati’s First Police Dog

Visitors to the Greater Cincinnati Police Museum are greeted by the stuffed remains of a scruffy mutt in a display case. This is Handsome, beloved companion of the Cincinnati Police who patrolled Rat Row, Sausage Row and the other unsavory neighborhoods that constituted what is now The Banks but was once known as The Bottoms. Handsome’s feats of investigative skill spread far and wide. On his demise in 1915, the cops chipped in and had Handsome preserved through taxidermy. For a while, he decorated police headquarters, but he’s now at home in the museum.

An Extra Leg

In 1926, somebody dropped off an unusual dog to Hamilton County Sheriff Richard Witt who, back then, also served as the county’s dog catcher. There was nothing wrong with the little puppy except that it had five legs. Witt turned the little fellow over to his deputy, Charles “Buck” Hauser, who promised to take care of it. Hauser had a history with freak animals; he also provided a home to a three-legged rooster.

Danny Dumm’s Greyhound

Cartoonist Harold E. Russell inked daily sports highlights for the Cincinnati Enquirer over a 52-year career that ended only with his death in 1966. Along the way, Russell is credited with inventing mustachioed Mister Red and the Cincinnati Royals logo. He also created a miniature alter ego named Danny Dumm who provided commentary on Russell’s cartoons for decades. In 1928, promoting racing meets at a Springdale greyhound track, Danny adopted a dog and the Enquirer ran a contest to name the pooch. Inundated with thousands of entries, Russell got two assistants to help him pick the eventual winning name – Big Swig – submitted by Miss Evelyn Klopp of Norwood.

Big Jon & Sparkie’s Pooch

For a decade, beginning at WSAI in 1948 and later on the ABC network, the most popular show on radio, “Big Jon & Sparkie,” was produced here in Cincinnati. Big Jon was the show’s host, Jonathan Arthur Goerss. Sparkie was an elf from the Land of Make Believe who wanted to become a real boy. Most of the characters were based on writer Don Kortekamp’s Cincinnati childhood, including Sparkie’s mischievous dog, a Boston toy terrier named Bunny.

Uncle Al’s Dog

From 1950 to 1985, it seemed mandatory for every kid in Cincinnati to appear at least once on WCPO’s Uncle Al Show. In addition to host Al Lewis himself and his wife, Wanda, aka “Captain Windy,” the show featured a multitude of supporting characters. Many of the subsidiary roles on the Uncle Al Show were created by artist and set designer Thomas York, including Ringo Rango the cowboy, Lucky the Clown, Chief Red Feather, Charley the Horse, the Merry Mailman and, of course, Pal the Dog.

Hattie The Witch’s Hound

At least two generations of Cincinnati children grew up with the Larry Smith Puppets, from his days on the Uncle Al Show on WCPO-TV through his decade-long run as the host of Larry Smith’s Cartoon Club on WXIX-TV. In addition to “Batty Hattie from Cincinnati,” Teaser the Mouse and Rudy the Rooster, the central canine character in this puppet menagerie was Snarfy R. Dog.

WEBN’s Program Director

When radio station WEBN first went on the air from a small, blue Considine Avenue house on “Price’s Mountain,” the owner and chief on-air personality, attorney Frank Wood Sr., was meticulous in crediting the talents of program director Miles Duffy. Visitors to the station may have suspected something funny about a dog bowl labeled “Miles.” In fact, Miles Duffy was a cocker spaniel, drafted into that significant position to give the impression WEBN’s employee roster was larger than it was. When Miles went to doggy heaven, the Woods had him taxidermied.

Cincinnati Reds In The Dog House

No review of Cincinnati dogs could be complete, of course, without featuring Marge Schott’s Saint Bernards, known as Schottzie and Schottzie 02. Reds managers were subjected to rubdowns with dog hair in often-vain attempts to attract good luck, groundskeepers had to pick up dog poop off the field, players had to dodge the beasts during pre-game warm-ups and the dogs sat front and center in the team photos during Schott’s ownership of the team.