Senshi and Parenthood
I’m obsessed with Senshi’s narrative role— or lack thereof actually. He’s not there to devote himself to a cause or further the plot, I actually don’t think he knows why he’s there for 90% of the story. He just. Saw a bunch of bumbling young looking people and went “well somebody’s got to feed them.”
And meanwhile there’s. Eldritch chaos and a complex narrative centered around life death and rebirth being intrinsically tied into the concept of hunger and appetite— and Senshi is standing there with his wok like, “okay sure you’re under the thrall of your own desires puppeted by an interdimensional being how bout I make you a pie and you calm down.” And it WORKS.
It works every time because surprise surprise people do need to be fed in order to work to their goals. It reminds me of how much we take our guardians for granted. How much it means to be a parent or caretaker making meal after meal for others. What it means to nurture people so they can get up each day and fulfill their dreams.
We so often take these loved ones in our lives for granted. They’re not there to save the day. They’re there to save us. They’ll think about our needs and inclinations when no one else will.
If you’re blessed enough to have a Senshi in your life, appreciate them!! They may not be slaying the demons, but they’re the ones who got you there.
Love him. He’s Mother.
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Vlad has been asleep for a few centuries now, in a goddamn coffin that he specifically made just for that like the weird rich person he is. He was also, the phoenix king.
Or at the very least, one of them.
Honestly, Danny couldn't give less of a flying cheerio how long Vlad would sleep for if it wasn't an inconvenience to it.
But it was.
You see, he's the ghost prince, prince of the infinity realms, dragon of infinity, son of war and ward of time, etc, etc.
And somehow, he has bloody paperwork.
Even though the Infinite Realms fell into Anarchy eons ago.
So he honestly doesn't know why he has paperwork, and it's so much that Danny has been spending centuries doing it and he's so tired of it and then he remembered, hey? Who likes can do mountains of paperwork without breaking a sweat and could finish this way better than Danny could?
Vlad Masters.
Hasn't seen the guy after his mother died, don't know where exactly he is, but he isn't in his lair (yes Danny managed to get in, don't ask how) and Danny is going to find this man by the Ancients because he cannot deal with those anymore.
He barely even made a dent!
Anyways, so Danny goes over to Earth because he hasn't been there for a hot minute, and that's probably where Vlad is and uh, woah there is this really Earth cause it's lookin mighty different to how he saw it last time-
Why was the Earth currently covered in flames? Black flames that look mighty familiar to someone else's that he knows actually. You know, someone who should have been sleeping the centuries away instead of, oh he doesn't know.
Taking over the mortal world?
It even seems that Vlad got himself a goddamn cult too! How neat! How much time did it take you to assemble all these people Vlad? You even gave out pieces of your power when you could've been, oh, he doesn't know.
Helping him with paperwork?
So, he's kinda mad about this, pissed, actually. So, he goes to find where exactly Vlad is in this reign of madness, finds a literal crack in reality and just heads on through because he couldn't care less about that actually.
What he finds is not what he expected.
Cause you know Vlad? Phoenix king who is probably trying to take over the mortal world instead of helping him with paperwork and was supposed to be sleeping inside a coffin?
Yea scratch that. Because that isn't a coffin.
When the hell was Vlad sleeping inside a magical barrier-
And who the heck was that spamming Vlad's signature black flames while laughing manically, and who in the infinite realms were those guys who were currently fighting said spammer.
"What exactly, in the Infinite Realms, happened while I was doing paperwork?"
===
So, the Justice League is now combating a new world ending threat. Some cult who wants to cleanse the world in the name of their deity so they could hand it to him once he reawakens.
Which, apparently, might've been around for centuries, slowly preparing for this day which, dedicated, but not the good kind of dedication really.
So, back to the fight, they're fighting this possible immortal who's been taking over the bodies of each new head of the cult for centuries and, well, he genuinely had power to back him and his cult up.
Not really a shock there, to be fair, since he claimed his powers to originate from the sleeping deity who blessed him with a portion of his power.
Vlad didn't, bro just stole a portion of his power and claimed it as a blessing lawl. Not that the cult knew that-
So the Justice League managed to break their way into the place holding said sleeping deity that also acted as the base for the cult leader and, well. Yea he truly does have the power to back himself up and, if the magic users had anything to say about, a very magically powerful deity he follows too.
So they're kinda screwed if said Deity wakes up, they don't even know when he will actually, neither did the cult leader. He just will 'eventually' which isn't as descriptive as some (read: Batman) would like.
First things first, beat up and disband the cult, figure out a way to prevent the sleeping deity's awakening later.
So they were fighting a battle (shocker I know) with their forces spread between their world and the pocket dimension and things weren't looking quite as good as they hoped. Lots of causalities, both civilians, heroes and even villains alike, a whole lot of magic and powers being thrown about and the monologuing of the cult leader who was floating above said sleeping god.
You could even think it to be symbolic in some way, that he thinks himself above a god.
So, safe to say, in all of this chaos they weren't exactly expecting a new voice to join the fray.
"What exactly, in the Infinite Realms, happened while I was doing paperwork?"
And the owner of said voice, to be a goddamn dragon.
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cw: you two have a son together, mention of being married, old man Bakugou
older retired pro hero Bakugou, who you find hunched over his desk one night. it’s late and the day was long and your son was whinier than he usually is. you’d think the old man would be in bed right now, but alas—he’s not beside you.
instead, as you round the corner to get a full look at him, he’s wearing his reading glasses, adorning an old ratty tank, his arms still big but softer than the years from before. he has a book open in front of him, desk scattered with pictures you can’t see from your angle, scissors, stickers, glue sticks.
“What are you getting up to at this hour, old man?” You ask softly, smiling when Bakugou doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. his tongue is sticking out in the corner as he cuts a squiggly line on a picture, posing it beside another on a blank piece of paper.
“Therapist said I should get into crafting,” he grunts, finally looking over at you from over his glasses. “Do things with my hands, feel busy, get my mind off’a shit.”
you pad over to where he sits, the overhead lamp on his desk focused on the big baby blue book with white pages. peeking over his shoulder, you rest your head on top of his, chin nestled in the still unruly blond and silver locks, overseeing his work.
and honestly? it almost makes you wanna cry. it’s a scrapbook, the page open to pictures of your wedding day, how pretty you looked, how big he smiled at you. you can see other scattered pictures on his desk—when you got a promotion at work, when he was number one for seven months in a row, a positive pregnancy test, the cutest baby you’ve ever seen, two little teeth coming in, baby being held in dads big ole arms that will always protect him.
“After this page, I gotta do the honeymoon.” Bakugou speaks gruffly, setting down a picture to wipe a hand down his face. “And then life accomplishment shit, the baby, his first steps.” He sounds so tired, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding down to smush your face against his own.
“You always have tomorrow. Come to bed.” You say against his cheek, squeezing him when you feel the rejection start up in his belly. But he deflates, pulling his glasses off, reaching around to pull you in his lap. He looks so grumpy, with his frown lines and crows feet, and yet so handsome with his small smile and soft eyes.
“I’ll print more pictures tomorrow. And maybe go by the store to get some more stickers, too.” He tells you in between kisses, his words soft, his hands rough through your pajamas. You hum against his mouth, holding his nape, afraid to ever let him go.
“You do that. Now let’s go to bed.” You whisper, standing up and pulling him with you. He closes the scrapbook for now, and you glimpse at the cover, heart melting at the picture of you two holding up your son, both kissing his cheeks. The picture is captioned with “Our Life” and you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to have met him.
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