#it'll take a while to analyze but right now

[brooklynisher]

Oh my god wait this song is so sad hold on

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fluffy Headcanons 🩶 | Hemut Zemo

Marvel Masterlist

Being in a relationship with Zemo would look like:

The man spoils you, to the point it's kinda suffocating. Considering this man is rich you can expect extravagant gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and whenever he sees something and thinks of you. It doesn't have to be an occasion for Zemo to spend his bottomless pit of coin on you. 

Date night involving a dinner doesn't exactly mean you guys have to go out. This man can cook. He'll present you with the most gourmet meal you've ever seen, paired with a wine likely the cost of your life insurance plan, with candles lit and music flowing from the record player. "You've out done yourself once again, Helmut. It seems like I'm saying that every time we have dinner." "Well, darling, I only ensure the best for my love."

Zemo has several homes throughout the damn planet, so if you're ever feeling a change of scenery all you have to do is pick where you want to go. Paris, England, Rio, Sydney, Moscow, Los Angeles, Morocco, etc. You name it, Zemo has property there. You'll stay for weeks, maybe months, and sometimes if you like one more than the others, you'll live there for a few years and then move when the time feels right.....or when Zemo breaks the law again and now, you're on the run. 

You're the type of couple people stop and stare at. Zemo wouldn't consider himself a fashionista, but he likes to dress nice for any occasion--even grocery shopping--and that rubbed off on you. Often you'll be walking down the street and notice in your peripheral vision people pointing you out to their friends and admiring you guys from afar. "People are staring again." "Of course they are. They cannot believe they are seeing a living God/Goddess among them." 

If you have animals, it'll probably be a cat. Zemo gives off cat energy more so than dog and he'd be the type of cat person who says he dislike cats but then falls in love with one and it changes his perspective. How came to have cat likely was you feeding the neighborhood stray and taking it in, ignoring Zemo's refusal but then you catch him putting tuna on a plate and bringing home flea medicine.

Your house is covered in artwork because Zemo is a collector. There's not a single wall that is not straight out of a museum. Monet's, Picasso's, etc. Paintings and sculptures. If you ever wanted to make an exhibit in your house and have people pay to see it, you could for sure do it. 

When you have movie nights, it's basically you two analyzing every single detail and having a full-on discussion rather than watching the film. Especially if it's movies you've already seen and are rewatching. Zemo can't shut up, and you shove popcorn in your mouth while he vents about how stupid the main character was or how plot lacked consistency. If Zemo really liked a film, he'll actually shut up because he doesn't have anything to say. 

His love languages are acts of service and quality time. And you can add gifts into the mix because he loves to give you gifts. 

You two play chess a lot--It's one of the ways you have quality time together. Zemo is a master at chess and while you were weak in the beginning you quickly became a master yourself and now you two have matches lasting hours. 

Zemo has a photo album dedicated to you of all your dates and trips or special moments you shared. All taken on a film camera because while he does have hundreds of pictures of you on his phone, there's something personal and intimidate in capturing the beauty of you on film. 

You have matching jewelry you both wear and hardly ever take off. If you're married, of course you have the rings but even then, you both have matching bracelets or necklaces. It's probably got your names or initials engraved or has your birthstones. 

[deconstructthesoup]

I've been thinking a little bit about how the Cat King expresses his affection, and specifically, how the fandom interprets it.

There's some people who see how he interacts with Edwin and think "oh my god, he's such a simp, Edwin really has this sexy catboy wrapped around his little finger," and there's some people who see how he interacts with Edwin and think "yowza, learn to take a hint, he's not interested in you and your fuckboy fur coat," which, y'know, are both valid. I love the Cat King, but he's clearly not a fan of boundaries---outside of his own, of course.

Which... is the point, isn't it? Because here's the thing---we all like to analyze the Cat King as if he's human, but... he's not.

He's a cat. And that's how cats are.

Let's look back at his first interaction with Edwin. Our sassy Edwardian boy has used magic on one of his cats, and he's pissed, because cats are protective over what they consider "theirs---" and seeing as he's the Cat King, all of the cats in Port Townsend are his. He's bitchy and rude, cutting Edwin off when he tries to explain himself, and doesn't exactly seem like he's a merciful guy.

Then comes the moment where he whisks Edwin away, and he gets a closer look. The Cat King realizes that he's handsome, he's clearly queer, and that there is something fascinating about him. So he gets closer, he gets intimate, and it's working. Even in the throes of internalized homophobia, Edwin's getting into it, and... the Cat King self-sabotages, slapping a binding spell onto him.

A cat hisses at you when you attempt to reach out your hand and reason with it. It changes its mind, and it comes up to you, purring. And just when you're about to scratch it behind its ears, it freaks out, scratching you on the hand.

Sure, right after that, the Cat King lays out the terms---the binding spell (which, honestly, is actually a pretty fitting punishment given that Edwin used a binding spell on that cat) can be taken off, "and I'm sure we can work something out." That's a line that's probably worked before, and that's a line that probably could've worked, but the damage is done. So the Cat King gets irritated, sneering at Edwin's "old-fashioned sensibilities," and gives him your classic trickster seems-easy-but-is-a-lot-harder-than-it-looks deal. And we don't see him again for a couple episodes... at least, not until Edwin gets that little cat-scratch at the lighthouse.

When a cat scratches your hand, you give it a wide berth. Even if it immediately changes its mind and meows for attention, you don't trust it anymore. So it gets pissy, getting more and more annoyed the more you ignore it, until it gives up and bites you when you won't give it pets.

Now, the Cat King has realized that Edwin's getting close. He's counted almost all the cats, and it won't be long before he completes the task and books it out of town. So, the Cat King starts flirting even more, even going so far as to mimic Monty and Charles if that's what it'll take. When that fails, and when getting Edwin to open up fails, the Cat King lets out a nervous little laugh and tells Edwin that he's way off, when in fact he couldn't be closer.

Once a cat realizes that it likes you, it becomes incredibly needy. It trots along after you, it begs for attention and love, it sits on your laptop and jumps up on the kitchen counter and will attempt to insert itself into any and all activities you might be doing. And while that may be the cat's way of expressing love, there's no denying that it is ignoring all of your personal boundaries and generally getting in the way of you doing anything---other than, of course, paying attention to it.

And then comes the moment in the forest. The Cat King shows up with a fancy chandelier to blow Monty's cover---why now? Because Monty isn't just a romantic threat, he's trying to do something that'll take away Edwin for good. Once the cover's blown, and once Monty storms off, the Cat King uses this as an opportunity---I just saved his life, maybe he'll notice me now---and Edwin snaps, dropping one of the best lines in the whole series.

This is the first time, mind you, that Edwin has really pushed back. He's been resistant before, sure, but he's never said or done anything that indicates that he really wanted this dance to end. And I don't even think the Cat King realized that he was crossing a line, had been crossing a line since he slapped that bracelet on. But when Edwin says that he's not the Cat King's toy to yank around, that he's nothing more than an inconvenience, that's a big old wake-up call for our boy---and of course, he takes it horribly, snarling after Edwin that he'll be stuck in this town if he walks away, that he'll stop playing nice, just fucking NOTICE me already why don't you?

There always comes a time when you're fed up with how invasive your cat's being. Maybe you've just had a bad day, maybe it's genuinely messing up something important that you're doing, but you break out the spray bottle. And how does it respond? With a hiss, with a scamper away, and with a baleful glare over its shoulder. It knows it's done something wrong, but it doesn't fully understand, and it's mad at you.

Afterwards, Edwin gets dragged into hell, and that breaks the charm on the bracelet. And the Cat King's left to think.

There's some conflicting emotions there, of course. He's moodily playing with the bracelet when Esther shows up, showing that he probably does care, but there's still something to be said about how he immediately calls Edwin a "tease" and hates himself for being willing to wait for him if and when he ever returns from Hell (which is very noble of you, Thomas, totally way more of a meaningful gesture than actually going down there to get him back---which, as a self-described eternal being, would probably be easier for you to do than Charles. Just sayin'). But as much as I love to clown on that, the Cat King does die in that scene, and it's only after that that he spills to Esther.

This, I think, is where the Cat King stops acting like a cat, and starts acting human. Because he doesn't go and see Edwin when he gets back---he's realized that he kind of was in the wrong, and he's giving him space. And I'm sure it can't have been fun knowing that Edwin and Charles only got kidnapped by Esther because of information that he let slip.

But when the boys and Crystal (and maybe Jenny) are about to leave, the Cat King visits Edwin to pay his respects to Niko. He gives Edwin a lily, which several people have pointed out is fatal to cats. He's still flirty, sure, but he's more understated now. No more tricks, no more spells. Just him. And that's the version of him that gets that little cheek kiss goodbye.

Because even cats can learn that there's a better way to love.

[ghostlysoaps]

Inspiration - @ghcstao3

There's something to be said about the way John "Soap" MacTavish, notorious for his fleeting fancy of any given subject when off an op, hasn't been able to get Simon Riley out of his head. Granted, even before "The Incident" his lieutenant occupied his thoughts frequently. But now, oh, not a minute goes by where his attention doesn't stray, where his eyes aren't drawn to Ghost’s hulking figure, and he wishes they'd been stationed literally anywhere else but the monotone grey of autumnal England.

His sketchbook is filled with pages upon pages of studies. Greens and browns and gold – the myriad of colours hazel can be – despite how none of them feel right. Too saturated, too dark, too light. Too much or too little. Then again... it is near impossible to recreate a work of art after a mere fleeting second of studying the original. La Gioconda del Prado wasn't made with a peripheral glance at Da Vinci's subject – so how is Johnny to do the impossible?

-

"Spar with me."

Ghost pauses with his fork mid-way to his mouth. A mouth Johnny would gladly analyze at length, or map with his own one day, if not for the unhealthy obsession he's taken with Ghost's eyes.

One thing at a time.

His irises are shadowed by the tilt of his head and the presence of eyeblack but there is a subtle difference between them. Johnny is fool enough to think he can see it no matter how shit the lighting. Deluded, even, if his long-suffering best friend is to be believed. They're also dark with question, narrowed with thoughts and opinions kept close at heart.

"Alright," Ghost says and pushes the rest of his dinner away, pausing briefly as if to say something before ultimately deciding against it.

Johnny follows him with a pronounced bounce in his step and speeds through stretching and warming up. It'll be a killer tomorrow but that's a problem for future Johnny. Sore muscles are a small price to pay if it means settling a mystery.

They take their places, circling each other lazily. Johnny, ever the impatient one, lunges first and ends up with Ghost's heavy weight straddling the small of his back a couple minutes later. He grinds his teeth and heaves himself back to his feet. Sweat beads at his temples, his neck, trickling down his spine. Alight with purpose, he throws himself back in the fray.

He sways out of Ghost’s reach, blocking and evading, bouncing on the tips of his toes, throwing punches when it's fitting while he awaits the perfect time to strike. They're both grinning. It's plain as day on his own face, more subtle on Ghost's. The way the corners of his eyes crease gives him away, the shift of his plain balaclava as his lips twitch.

Johnny is focused on them like a bloodhound on a scent and when Ghost tosses his head, tilting it up with a roll of his shoulders, the florescent lights catching them just so.

Oh, is all he can think with the truth of him laid plain to see – how Johnny had been right all along. They differ subtly in darkness but when cast in either sunshine sepia or lightbulb white the contrast between them is stark. One is the deep, dark of pine, a forest green with too many hues to accurately count. It compliments the wooden brown of tree-trunk bark, flecks of whiskey-gold therein framed by pale lashes of nearly the same colour.

A modern day Medusa who stops him dead in his tracks, mesmerised, as Ghost's fist slams into the side of his face with the concentrated power of an eighteen-wheeler barreling into a concrete wall.

-

Ghost's face swims back into view an undetermined amount of time later. Worry etched into the tense way he carries himself. His hands are cupping Johnny’s cheeks, thumbs stroking once under his lower lids before they tilt his head back a fraction. He hovers close, peering into Johnny’s eyes as if they hold the secrets of the universe therein.

"Fuckin' hell Johnny. Anything broken?"

Johnny blinks at him, a dopey smile spreading over his lips like molasses.

Ghost, if anything, looks even more worried.

"Talk to me, Sergeant."

"You've beautiful eyes."

Ghost freezes in place. Gobsmacked, if Johnny were to put an expression to it. He murmurs a string of delightfully innovative curses under his breath, manoeuvring Johnny to sitting upright, and the change in vantage point only makes him a little bit dizzy. The dark spots dancing before his eyes is nothing new, honestly, but they are annoying when they're ruining his view.

"Knocked what little sense you had left right out of your head, huh?" Ghost sounds amused and Soap realises, belatedly, that he might've said all that out loud. "Price'll have a field day with this."

"Take some responsibility an' kiss it better then."

"You're concussed."

"Och aye, an' whose fault is tha'? You and yer bonnie eyes. Could get lost in 'em, y'ken?"

"You're off your head, mate."

"Ahm'nt! An' if you'd jus' stay still for a moment an' lemme look at ye, this wouldn't 'ave been an issue," Johnny grumbles indignantly. Grumbles, because whining is for children and it never works in getting him what he wants anyway. Ghost usually looks at him with the flattest stare imaginable whenever he tries. Horrid man. Johnny kind of wants to kiss him about it.

"Tell you what, Johnny. If you're good–" Ghost slings his arm over his shoulder, kindly ignoring the way his words leave him shivering, "–i'll let you look all you want."

Johnny leans against him when he's levered to his feet, swaying like a branch caught in the wind. "I can be good."

"Mmh. You're gonna listen to the nurses once I drop you off at medical?"

Soap groans and smushes his face deeper into Ghost’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

-

Ghost keeps his promises, it is an irrefutable fact, and Johnny can and will take advantage of that with shameless abandon.

Crawling into Ghost's lap with a shit-eating grin, paints and brushes well-within reach, wobbling precarious on his perch until Ghost takes pity and steadies him with scorching hands on his hips feels like a victory despite the dull throbbing in his temple and purpling bruises lapping up the side of his face. There are no protests when he guides Ghost's head this-way-and-that. No complaints are heard even when the warm glow of his bedside lamp shines at his eyes and their kaleidoscope of colours become present again. Ghost keeps his gaze unwavering focused when Johnny's hands rest on his face in a mirror of the day prior – though his eyelids droop down the fraction of an inch. It's intense and intimate and Johnny, no stranger to selfishness when he can get away with it, can't help but be greedy.

"Can you be good for me now, Simon?"

His lieutenant nods as far as Johnny’s hands allow and though him closing his eyes is the opposite of good, Johnny can't fault him when his own slide shut as he brings their faces together for the first time – a new obsession flaring to life in the wake of lips brushing fabric.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello lovely fandom! It’s tiiimmeeeee. I’m so ready for this premiere. This hiatus felt like the longest one yet. Probably cause they weren’t allowed to share literally anything for months and months. While I might still gripe we’re only getting 18 and 20 would’ve been better….I am psyched to be analyzing a new season ❤️

Changing these up to First impressions cause mini and I don’t get along in terms of brevity. Now imma try and be briefer since I’ll be doing a deep dive next summer. Hopefully in our next hiatus. *fingers crossed* The library still a turd for new gifs. So had to make all mine. Also I must have a new angle at my new place. So they came out not how I wanted lol But after a full day of work I was too tired to re-do them all. It's a miracle this is coming out with how tired I am haha Anyways bear with me and hopefully next weeks gifs are better ha Off we go!

7x01 The Shot.

Cool thanks recap. Not like we forgot the breakup that ruined us all…Would like to say someday that won't ruin me to watch, but that's a lie...Love that to leave the lineup for recaps now. Thanks.

It's the little things like them sitting next to each other in the swat car that make me so happy. Not gonna lie I was grinning like a damn fool just seeing them seated together. God I missed them. Straight giddy them working together in the field. It’s where they originated. It’s where they’re going to heal.

I love her directing him in the field. That snap of her fingers and he knows instantly what she needs and follows. That beautiful rhythm only they can achieve. Silent communication at it's finest folks. Mmm loving this. Lucy taking down a dude double her size and Tim coming in to help finish him off. Hot damn I love them in the field. Legit ship crack to me everyone. Look at those beautiful humans in motion above. I can't get enough.

Oooh lord T.O Tim *fans self* Mmm Can’t say haven’t missed him. I'll be real honest. Yum. Thank you Nolan for not undermining him while he sized them up. We would've had words sir. It probably shouldn't delight me watching him tear them apart, and yet here we are with me drooling over him. With zero regrets. Just nice to see him in his element after being knocked out of it last year. I shall enjoy this year for him I can already tell.

Ha! Bingo card hit. That's one square down. ‘Grey guides Lucy with her career.’ Yasss I’m a dork I know but you all knew this ha Grey pulling strings to get her to T.O. "Temp." I’m sure it’ll stick. He see’s what a good teacher and leader she is. Look at him jumping starting this for her. Nudging her in the right direction.

Lucy not being sure....Still battling with that UC identity and detective path. Some left over S6 bleh hanging around. I think Grey is setting her path and she has no idea how ‘not temporary’ this will be. At least IMO. I see her excelling at this and wanting to stay at it. Plus like Grey said it’ll strengthen her position should detective come back up. Also like to list the reasons why I think this will be good for her.

One it'll rebuild her confidence. Something we all know was shattered and then run over by s6. Second it'll give her a new purpose and clarity for her career. (Which is also a bingo square for me. Yes I'll be tallying mine all year lol) Now she has to accept being a FT one for it to apply but I think it will. Lastly it'll get rid of the pesky 'Chain of Command' issue for them later on. Because we don't want that again.

Tim enters the chat and he is a most welcome addition. The mini banter about her training. I'm here for it and I love love love it. Look at the flirty smirks on these idiots. Like breathing fresh air once again. The small smirks have me reeling. Gimme. Grey although has no time for this LOL Ushering their asses out. Just happy they can breathe the same air again and not have it be nuclear.

Then the real banter begins. I’ve missed them so much. I wanna cry. Tim instantly offering to give her tips. Is this one of his small doses? Possibly I think he would’ve offered this as an olive branch either way tbh. But I love seeing how eager he is to bond with her over this. Lucy’s so cute with her ‘ My rookie.’ Girl you’re gonna wanna stay a T.O. I already see it.

Lucy of course has her sassy answer locked and loaded for him. He answers right back. Goodness their banter is top tier. And woo another bingo card for me. Well this was not in my official bingo card. BUT I did say how if she ended up as a T.O. this season this would happen. In my 6x08 review said they would end up doing a bet over who trains a better rookie. And here we are. I'm enjoying my spoils and grinning like a happy fool. Which is nice after spending the second half of s6 being emotionally spent and destroyed.

Oh Lucy, like you could ever walk way from your man about a competitive bet of all things. This is how they’re gonna heal my friends. Going back to the beginning. To their roots. Where this rock solid bond was started. In the field. Along with some banter and fiery competition thrown in. This new dynamic has me so giddy I can’t even contain myself.

You can see how excited Tim is she’s going to be a T.O. With him. Flirting with her by offering this up. Moth to a flame with her in general. But this? Man is raring to go. Being a T.O and competition with his girl? He is beaming with excitement. Also probably knows this is a good way to further his cause of mending fences.

The goading of her oh my lord. It’s s4 all over again and I’m here for it. Except Tim is far more aware he’s in love with this woman. The straight teasing and flirting in front of the entire station. Welcome back. Oh my word I love sfm. His telling smirk is amazing. Reeling her back in slowly LOL

Nolan actually ignites more flirty flirts for them when he tells them about the ringer. Because classic John can't shut his yapper. I’ve truly missed this high grade goodness though. Lucy accusing him of hustling her haha Tim deescalates her like only he can with his strong logic. Saying it's actually harder that he has previous experience. He’s not wrong. First thing I thought about him when they said he had experience…Poor Seth called a virgin lmao

The rookies get assigned and we get jealous/protective Tim. Welcome back to our screens. You've been missed. *grabs ice water* This premiere is trying to kill me in the best way. I was here for the show. You tell that cocky little boy babe. I think someone else had one of the rookies flirts with Lucy in their bingo card. So you get that square ha The balls to do that in front of Tim. This kid has a death wish on wheels.

Ovary explosion at the way he barked at him though. Man is making me thirsty af. Also this kid is not a ringer in the least. I know what it’s like to de-program someone. It’s not easy. When I would get someone from another team (and terrible manager btw) I would spend the first 30 days just getting rid of the bad habits before I could begin to mold them. So ringer he is not....Lucy has a better shot with fresh meat tbh. Seth is far more impressionable. Hence her finishing line above.

Tim TEARS Texas a new one. Was kind of hoping he would. Nothing like a solid Tim T.O. rant. This kid needed it holy cow. Too damn cocky for a rookie even with experience. Makes it worse. Get em Tim! I’m enjoying this far too much. Haha Mmm. Sidelines his ass as he should. Maybe he can rejoin when his ego is in check.

This scene had me cackling. First off look at them both with crossed arms. I'm dying. Also Lying liars who lie LOL Both struggling a little bit with their rookies. It’s hilarious. Can’t ever admit fault of course. Very s4 vibes going on here I love it sfm.

Friggin Nolan has to be include himself...Listen John they checked the guest list for this work flirt convo. You're not on it sir. So needy this one. He actually didn't bug me much at all in this one. Probably the lack of Bailey....

Tim’s final T.O scene has me drooling holy hell. The jacket, the stern taking to, and telling them to suck less? I’m dying hahaha I loved how this was shot. Seeing the faces as Tim grills them both. Putting them in place. I love it sfm I'm so VERY excited for this season for him. If this was our look into it I am ready for more.

Oh my word, this final scene of theirs. If you don’t feel giddy, and a sense of promise for reconciliation from this interaction, I can't help you. LOL. I mean that in the nicest way haha I really do. The subtext running through this scene like a bullet train of hope. The moment begins with puppy dog Tim. Let’s take a second to contrast how he just was with the rookies earlier. To seeing his girl in the parking lot. That's the Lucy Chen effect.

That man is walking on air, and beaming his best ‘Lucy’ smile as he approaches her car, looking like a damn snack I wanna devour. I adore the swapping of stories. Giving each other shit but staying confident in their abilities to right their rookies ships as it were. Lucy saying ‘Tomorrow is another day.’ With Tim’s hopeful ‘Yes it is.’ Got me all in my damn feels. To me it’s a positive setup for the entire season. The low key flirty vibes here are glorious first and foremost. Second the flirting inside the promise with those two lines has me reeling.

The smiles they both convey just shows our babies are healing. Lucy is healing. She isn’t holding back with the positivity and flirting right back. There is this underlying UST too. But the most beautiful part is their talk about 'Tomorrow'. Tomorrow is another day for them to get one step closer to being who they once were. Only stronger. Tim’s 'Yes it is.' Is everything. His tone of voice, how he’s looking at her, and that determination to make something out of every day he gets with her. Driven to make tomorrow a day he inches one step closer to the promise he made in the elevator in 6x10. Oooh lord I’m excited for this season.

I said couple days ago how amped I was for this new dynamic. Them being T.O’s together and finding their way back in this fashion. It’s a fantastic and true to them way to do it. Couldn’t be more excited. The LOOKS everyone my god. The way he is pining after her. Doesn’t tear eyes away for a second as she pulls off. And our girl checks the mirror not once but TWICE.

Making eyes right back at him. This scene should excite the hell out of you. I’m scaling the walls right now haha This is as a very very promising opening episode for them. Little more proof they're going to make their way back. Won't be right away but it's coming. This is what I was longing for when we left off all those months ago.

For them to be in a better place to even start this healing. I’m so ready for this journey. I really am. Trusting the writers to do this at the right pace. So when it does happen and it will. We’re gonna be on cloud 9 x1000 Ooof lord that was good. They know how to close out an ep our ship. Watched promo for next ep. I’m vibrating with excitement.

The UST I feel from that little clip is the beauty of Eric and Melissa. This season gonna be incredible i feel it deep in my soul baha Now I’m excited we don’t have a break now that we’re here. As always thank you thank you thank you. To any and all who comments(love me to chat don’t be shy wanna theorize with you all) , like or reblog these. You have no idea how much it means to me. Also proud of myself for keeping this brief ish for me lol Below is my side notes feel free to comment on anything said in this or below till next week my lovely fandom :)

~~

Side notes non Chenford

No Bailey in a the premiere was already staring off with a win for me. Sorry Jenna but ya know lol sorta not….really…

Lieutenant Grey! So happy for him. Solid reasoning why he got it. Sucks he feels bad but I'm glad for him.

Lots of action off the bat hot damn. They said we'd have more and I loved it

Oooh loving Wes being assumed to the station. Welcome sir. Happy to have you and more Wopez moments to come.

Aaron went to north Hollywood someone had to lol Makes sense he would leave due to Blair. Also leaves the door open for him to return someday. Which makes my heart happy.

Poor Wes has to hear the recording of a man wanting to do things to his wife lol oh my lord. He’s legit having a meltdown about it hahah I sense some trouble for Wopez. Should be interesting season for them.

[eiralunaire]

Damian Wayne and Reader go on a "date" to a scary park.

It was an October night, the cold wind making the dry leaves crunch under your feet as you and Damian walked towards the scary amusement park, lit by flashing lights and red neons. Damian, always impeccable in his black leather jacket and a controlled expression, followed closely behind you. His thoughts were far from the idea of ​​a “casual” outing. To him, this was a *date*, though he hadn’t decided yet if he should mention it. His feelings for you put him on extra alert, always maintaining outward composure but with a storm of internal thoughts. Should he say something? Or should he continue acting like it was just a friends’ outing?

**“It’s a date. There’s no doubt about that,”** he repeated internally, casting a discreet glance towards you, who were walking happily beside him. **“He’ll be scared first, for sure,”** he thought with a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips, imagining what could happen in the park’s horror houses.

For your part, you were completely unconcerned. To you, this was just a fun night. The idea of ​​a scary amusement park delighted you, and you were more than ready to experience the adrenaline rush of scares. "This is just an outing with Damian to have a good time," you told yourself, not noticing his deeper intentions.

Before they left for the park, Flatline, in his direct style, had made sure to give Damian a small "gift": a tiny ear communicator.

**"It'll do, trust me,"** Flatline said with a smile as he placed it in Damian's ear, who had reluctantly accepted. He knew that Flatline only wanted to be aware of the "gossip" of the night. **"Just don't give me any of your inappropriate suggestions,"** he had warned, remembering his dark sense of humor.

Flatline, laughing as he walked away, had said, “Come on, Damian, relax a little. It’s not like I’m going to suggest something like… I don’t know… *give him oral in the house of mirrors*.” That was Flatline. Always taking everything to the extreme.

Damian sighed deeply, ignoring the comments and focusing on his goal: courting you, even though his pride told him he didn’t need Flatline’s help. However, the communicator was on, and Flatline was already listening to every single thing.

They arrived at the first attraction of the park: a house of terror with special effects. The doors creaked as they opened, and the atmosphere was filled with pre-recorded screams and shadows moving on the walls.

“You’re sure you won’t be scared before me, right?” Damian asked you, with a slight mockery in his voice, still observing every detail around him. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, he kept his posture firm and relaxed.

"Pff, don't get so excited. This is just for fun, you're not going to see me scream like a girl," you answered confidently, not noticing how he analyzed your every move.

In the background, Flatline let out a sarcastic comment: **"Oh, wow, Damian, looks like you're going to have to work harder to impress her."** Damian rolled his eyes, trying to ignore her.

They walked through rooms filled with strobe lights, narrow hallways, and actors jumping out of the shadows, but even though your heart was racing, you remained calm... for now.

"Are you scared?" Damian asked, clearly challenging you. But just then, a macabre figure came out of nowhere, and you let out a small gasp, jumping towards him, while Damian barely flinched.

"That doesn't count!" you said quickly, walking away as he looked at you with a small smile of victory.

**"You know, maybe you should take her to the house of mirrors. Maybe you'll like what you see in those reflections or whatever happens, wink, wink."** Flatline hinted over the communicator, obviously enjoying the entertainment.

Damian pressed his lips together, ignoring Flatline again and turned to you, hiding his growing affection with a neutral tone.

"Don't worry. Maybe I should protect you tonight," he suggested, but his gaze had a playful glint that you barely managed to notice. To you, it was still just a joke between friends. To him, every word, every gesture, was part of his plan to take this friends' outing to something more.

The ride continued with laughter, scares, and little moments where Damian couldn't help but look at you a little too long, while Flatline kept up with it, making jokes in the background that Damian tried hard to ignore. This "casual" outing for you was much more than that for him, but he would let you discover it at your own pace.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

As they made their way through the park, the flashing lights and terrifying creatures lurking around every corner kept causing a stir. The screams of other visitors mixed the atmosphere with a playful tension, but Damian barely reacted. His eyes were more focused on you, waiting with some amusement for the moment when you would get scared again. He couldn't help but feel a slight satisfaction every time he managed to keep his composure while you gave a little jump or made a muffled sound.

—"Don't laugh,"— you told him with a half smile, realizing that, although you tried to remain calm, the occasional scares were starting to affect you. The fact that Damian seemed immune only made you feel more competitive.

—"Laugh? I wouldn't do such a thing,"— he replied with a slight nod, although the small sparkles in his eyes betrayed his words.

They passed by an attraction called “The Labyrinth of Darkness,” an enclosed space filled with warped mirrors and seemingly endless hallways. Without hesitation, you decided that would be the next stop.

“Let’s go here, I bet you get lost first,” you said with a hint of mischief in your voice.

Damian raised an eyebrow, clearly accepting the challenge. **“Perfect. One more excuse to be close to her.”** He thought to himself, as Flatline once again butted into the conversation with his teasing tone.

**“Oh, the labyrinth. Great idea, Damian. Just don’t get so lost that you end up kissing her by accident. Or… is that what you’re hoping for?”** Damian didn’t bother to answer, gritting his teeth and moving on.

Inside the labyrinth, the lights flickered in green and red hues, casting strange shadows on the distorted mirrors that reflected their figures. You moved forward a little, confident that you could find the exit before him. But, as you moved forward, you realized how confusing the layout was. The mirrors distorted your face and the hallway seemed to stretch out, giving you an eerie feeling.

—"Ok… this is harder than I thought,"— you admitted, stopping to look around, and Damian, as always, seemed completely calm as he followed closely behind you.

—"Given up already?"— his tone was soft, but full of defiance.

Before you could answer, a dark figure moved in one of the mirrors. You let out a soft cry, thinking that someone had appeared out of nowhere, but upon looking closely, it was only a distorted reflection. You leaned against one of the mirrors for a moment, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

Damian, on the other hand, didn't miss the opportunity to get a little closer to you, his voice soft and calm.

—"Don't worry. If you get lost, I'll find you."

You turned to look at him, and for a brief second, something in his tone made you doubt if he was really joking. There was an intensity in his gaze that you hadn't noticed before, as if he wasn't just talking about the labyrinth. You laughed nervously, trying to downplay the moment.

—"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. This is just a game, remember?"

Damian nodded, but the idea of ​​this being more than just a game was still lingering in his mind. **"A game... maybe. But for me, it's something more."** His thought was interrupted again by Flatline, who was still attentive to the development of the night.

**"Honestly, Damian, I don't know how you haven't kissed her already. What are you expecting, for me to ask you please?"** Flatline's laughter echoed in his ears, but Damian remained calm. You knew you didn't need to rush, that things would happen in their own time.

Eventually, you both found your way out of the maze, and though you had tried to hold your ground, you knew Damian had won that little battle of nerves.

—"Okay, I admit it. You won this time,"— you said with a resigned smile, while he simply looked at you with an expression of quiet victory.

—"It wasn't a competition,"— Damian muttered, although he clearly enjoyed your surrender.

With the park still vibrant around you, you decided that the next attraction needed to be something lighter. Before you could suggest anything, however, Damian looked at you with that intense gaze again, and this time he couldn't help it.

��"I don't know if you've noticed,"— he began to say in a low voice, making sure there were no interruptions at that moment. —"But this... isn't just a friends' outing for me."

You stood still for a second, surprised by his sudden comment, feeling how the atmosphere around you seemed to suddenly change. Although the park was still filled with lights and shouts in the background, the only thing you could hear at that moment was the beating of your own heart.

Damian kept his gaze fixed on yours, waiting for an answer. But before you could say anything, a soft but mocking laugh echoed in Damian's ear.

**"It's about time, Damian! I thought you'd never say it," Flatline commented, clearly enjoying the moment. **"Let's see what happens now. I'm waiting."**

Damian sighed, rolling his eyes as his gaze softened a bit.

"Is Nika... listening to all this?" you asked in amazement, the white-haired girl's powerful voice coming out of the earphone Damian was wearing, who you thought was only wearing an earplug for the entire ride.

The green-eyed one nodded, but without losing his focus on you.

"Don't listen to her. What's important is what you think."

The amusement park continued to spin around you, but for you, at that moment, the only thing that mattered was what was happening between the two of you. The lights, the sounds, everything slowly faded away as your mind processed what you had just heard.

As you analyzed Damian's words, trying to understand the meaning behind his confession, you were about to respond. Your thoughts were lining up, your mouth opening to say something, when suddenly a terrifying clown jumped out of nowhere behind you.

"Ah!" you let out a startled scream, as the clown, with a deep, sinister laugh, followed you with very fast, exaggerated steps, clearly enjoying his work.

His deep voice echoed as he said.

"Where do you think you're going? You can't escape!"

You circled around Damian quickly, trying to use him as a barrier between you and the clown. The clown, with his grotesque mask and stare, didn't seem willing to leave you alone, and you just wanted to get away from that terrifying figure.

Damian watched the scene with a mix of amusement and exasperation, until he saw that the scare was actually bothering you. Without saying a word, he took your hand firmly, pulling you away from the clown.

“Come on,” he said, with that characteristic calm, as he quickly led you towards the food court, leaving the costumed employee behind.

“Thanks,” you said, relieved but still laughing a little at your reaction. “That clown was starting to give me the creeps.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Damian replied with an almost imperceptible smile, although deep inside he felt a slight satisfaction at having protected you, even in something so trivial. **“These kinds of situations bring us closer,”** he thought, his mind already calculating what could come next.

Flatline, who had been listening to everything, couldn’t resist.

**"Oh, Damian! How romantic! 'Come, take my hand and escape from the scary clown.' If that's not worthy of a movie, I don't know what is."** Her mocking voice echoed in his ear, but Damian just ignored it.

They arrived at a horror-themed food stand, where everything seemed to be shaped like skulls or monsters. They bought some things to eat, and the atmosphere became more relaxed again as they sat down to enjoy their snacks. It was hard not to feel good in that strange mix of scares and laughter that the park offered.

Finally, the night began to end, and they both decided it was time to leave. They were walking towards the exit, commenting on the best scares of the night, when suddenly the same clown that had scared you before appeared again. This time, you weren't willing to let him take you by surprise.

"Not again!"you said with determination, taking out a small bag of confetti that you had bought at a souvenir shop in the park. Damian had gotten it for you as part of a joke so you could “get revenge” for any future scares.

Just as you were about to throw the confetti at the clown, he stopped and slowly took off his mask. What appeared before your eyes was not the grotesque face you had imagined, but a man with incredibly handsome features. His black hair fell slightly messy over his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled under the lights of the park. He had a charming smile, far removed from the scary character he had played all night.

“Do you have something for me?” the now ex-clown asked, in a much softer and more seductive voice. “Nice to meet you, I’m Ares.”

You stood completely perplexed, frozen for a second as you lowered the hand holding the confetti.

“Uh… I…” you began to stammer, clearly surprised by the unexpected transformation.

Ares gave you a knowing smile before saying.

“Sorry if I scared you so much earlier, it was part of the job. Everything okay?”

Damian watched the scene in silence, but the discomfort was palpable in his expression. He hadn’t expected the clown to turn out to be someone so striking, and the attention Ares was giving you wasn’t pleasing at all. His eyes narrowed slightly, and although he didn’t say anything, it was clear that he wasn’t enjoying the moment.

And, as expected, Flatline couldn’t contain himself.

**“Ha! This is pure gold, Damian! What’s wrong, wonder boy? Jealous of a handsome clown? Come on, I’m sure she’s just being nice, but did you see her face? I don’t know what she looks like but it must be great from that babbling of hers. Oh, I have to bother you with this for weeks.”**

Damian almost grimaced, but he kept his cool. He squeezed the hand that was still holding yours a little, as if to remind you of his presence.

“It’s late. We should get going,” he said, effectively cutting off the conversation between you and Ares, his tone sharper than usual.

Ares raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension, but smiled anyway. “Well, take care of yourselves. It was fun scaring you,” he told you, winking at you before turning around and disappearing into the shadows of the park.

Once outside the park, and with the atmosphere much calmer, you let out a nervous laugh, trying to soften the moment.

"Well, that was... unexpected."

Damian didn't say anything at first, just glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, clearly still upset.

"What? Are you upset because I was handsome?" you asked him, amused to see the prominent frown he threw at you.

"It's not relevant," she answered, although her tone hinted otherwise.

Flatline, laughing in Damian's ear, added her last comment to close the night: **"It definitely is, Damian. It definitely is."**

As they left the terrifying park, the silence remained for a long time as they walked towards Damian's motorcycle parked in the parking lot. He was walking with his hands in his pockets at your side, his gaze forward with his neutral expression, except for the frown that betrayed his bad mood when he saw your expression upon seeing the face of the masked clown. You decided not to comment anything about it, although Ares seemed handsome to you, you weren't going to say it in front of the green-eyed man because there would be a chance that he would get annoyed and abandon you in the middle of nowhere just to get rid of "an inconvenience". After a few more minutes of silence, Damian broke the silence.

"So..."

"So?" You asked back, encouraging him to continue gently.

"About what I told you."

"Yes?"

"What do you think about it?"

You thought a little more, you knew what he meant, what he said a while ago definitely stayed in your mind, but you just wanted to leave it as something casual that the dark-haired man said, you were sure that wasn't the case, much less when it comes to Damian because he means anything he says. But you didn't want to think about that, at least you would ask Flatline first and gather information so as not to jump to hasty conclusions.

"I think I'll first make you an essay on slides about what I think and present it to you." The green-eyed man raised an eyebrow and smiled mockingly.

"Oh yeah?"

“Then I'll have to see your presentation, in order, clean, with margins and with images so you can explain it in detail. Without errors.”

“Hey, it's a casual presentation with slides, not the final delivery of a project to go on vacation.”

“Now the presentation will be serious.”

You push Damian's shoulder while you laugh amused to see his serious face when he says that, it makes you laugh and scare you if he gives the slides a lower grade, if that happens you throw the player at his beautiful face.

[devilishchaos]

Wildin', on a boat on an island | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on vacation..again.

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", "princesa"

AN: manifesting this photos energy <3 enjoy x

Word Count: 5 871 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the shirtless brunette standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island. 

“You are suggesting we don’t sleep together for the vacation..why?” you questioned, waiting for a decent explanation. 

“Because..my parents room is literally 30 centimeters from ours.” he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease “AND I didn’t say that we can’t sleep in the same room! Just no funny business while in it..”

For more context, Rúben had asked you to accompany him on a little trip, on this beautiful boat on his family vacation. And has decided that now - an hour till you guys go on the boat  - is the perfect time to let you know he didn’t want to have sex with you. 

“It’s not like that has stopped you before?!?” you questioned him, with some suspicion still. 

“Babe..in the house is different. It’s a big house. Practically no one can hear us.” he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer “Listen, I’m going to go upstairs to bring your luggage down and put it in the car, while you cool off a bit, yeah?” 

You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had and considering it's impulsive, spontaneous Rúben we're talking about..it was indeed terrible. 

"No." you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why. 

Rúben looked actually taken aback by your answer, not being used to getting a ‘no’, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you'd said ‘no’ was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rúben to keep insisting. 

“Come on, it'll only be three days out.” Rúben insisted, using the nicest voice he could “Out there in the nice sea, with perfect weather, with food, drinks and a nice AC system... yeah? Plus - the boat has a double jacuzzi! Yeah?” he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth. 

“I-”

“Uh huh, exactly.” 

“I can live without it!” 

“Oh, come on Y/N..” Rúben sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding “I'll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I'll get it for you..after those three days. The only condition is - no sex on the boat."

That really got you thinking. 

“I can’t believe you. You sound really confident in yourself right now! Why do you think it is going to be me that is going to initiate something with you first? But you’re lucky that I love João, Bernardete and Ivan and would love to spend time with them. Have a great day Mr. Dias.” and with that you went inside the house to get your luggage because you are an independent young lady, who is not going to let things play out like her boyfriend wants to. 

*

In no time at all, the five of you were out. Rúben told you it would take a couple of hours to reach the perfect spot and if everything went well the fun on the boat could start in the early hours of the next day. 

It didn't seem like a bad plan, so you saw no reason to complain, it seemed fair. And if it wasn't so many days together you could easily ignore him. 

Rúben had kept his word about the ship's commodities, there were all kinds of snacks, drinks, and he had brought other kinds of substances. It was actually very comfortable and a part of you was glad you'd accepted to join them. But you still weren’t able to relax knowing your man didn’t wanna sleep with you. 

To say you were pissed at him was an understatement, but you were at that point of anger where you didn't even bother to show it, you immediately resorted to ignoring Rúben, which was very hard to do considering the fact that he was walking basically naked around you, only wearing his stupid short shorts that you wanted to rip off of him so bad. 

You had had your doubts about it at first, but now you were more than grateful that you had packed your swimsuits. Since you were giving Rúben the cold shoulder, you would have to find another way to entertain yourself; and being that you were in the sea and the weather is so nice, the most logical and comfortable thing to do would be to lie down on your towel, put on your sunglasses on and at least get a good tan out of it. 

Rúben, on the other hand, was annoyed with himself. He knew it was among the possibilities that you would get mad at him and do just what you are doing now, which is ignoring him completely. 

He hadn't seen you since last night, when you two had an argument during dinner about sleeping in separate rooms, which you insisted on. Since he didn’t wanna have sex with you - you didn’t want to tempt him..yet. 

Rúben felt his heart almost leap out of his chest as soon as he saw you come out of the booth, in your red swimsuit, the one that accentuated every curve of your body. You'd worn it around him before, and the last time you did, he fucked you in the pool. 

You seemed not to have seen him, or if you had, then you did a very good job of pretending he wasn't there. Once you knew you were within his range of view and he could see you perfectly well, you bent over to lay your towel on the floor of the boat, feeling the fabric of your bathing suit slide slightly over your butt. It wasn't much, but just enough. 

Rúben’s jaw tightened so bad he feared his teeth would crack, to keep from letting out a groan at the sight, he closed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white; focusing on what Ivan was telling him, trying to get the image of you, bent over a few feet in front of him in nothing but your bathing suit, out of his mind. 

Rúben knew you were doing it on purpose, you knew how much he liked that bathing suit on you. But today? Right now? You were playing very dirty games with his head. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way your skin glowed under the sun, how well your swimsuit fit and the fact that you were doing this to provoke him, caused his shorts to feel too tight all of a sudden. 

Rúben didn't even know what to do with himself, so he decided to go take a cold bath; he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of messing with his head like that. 

He excused himself and exited the small cabin, leaving Ivan, and you lifted your head to see him walk away. Rúben looked a little uncomfortable and you noticed how he slightly tugged the front of his shorts as he walked. 

"What, do I make you nervous, Rúbes?" you teased in a loud voice, causing him to turn around and flip you off. Without saying anything else, Rúben entered another door and slammed it shut. 

And with that, a little victory smile appeared on your lips. 

*

Eventually, tanning got boring. You looked down at your own body and lifted the edge of your swimsuit slightly, the tan lines were just the way you liked them, on point. Full of satisfaction, you gathered your things and decided to go back inside, maybe to take a bath and eat something. 

You entered quietly, not wanting to attract anybody's attention. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Just as you grabbed the bathroom doorknob to open it - the door opened. Out of the bathroom came Rúben, with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway at the sight, which you couldn't deny was very good. The towel was wrapped around Rúben’s hips so low that his prominent V-line was visible to a rather dangerous point, one you didn't want to let your eyes get to. 

He was shirtless obviously, so you had a perfect view of his defined torso and muscular arms, some water droplets still rolled down his body, making a path from his chest, down his abdomen and getting lost under his towel. 

His hair was still wet, framing his face perfectly. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and you realized, too late already, there was a little smile on his lips, prompted by the way you were eyefucking him. 

“What, do I make you nervous, princesa?” Rúben questioned you, using the same condescending tone and smirk you had earlier, as he took a step closer to you. 

You genuinely felt your knees weaken at his voice and the way he looked, but you were too proud to let him know that, so you simply shrugged. 

“Come closer and maybe I'll tell you.” you teased with a low tone, letting your eyes travel down his body. 

Rúben’s smirk only grew and you thought that finally you two were on the same page, thinking about the same thing, and more importantly, that it would happen. He took a confident step towards you, so this way he was towering over you, his chest barely inches away from yours, his lips basically hovering over yours. 

You placed both hands on his body, letting them travel from his abs all the way to his chest, causing him to bite his lip at the feeling. Rúben leant down even more, his lips grazing with yours, breaths mixing and skin touching. 

And then.. 

You pushed him out of the way and locked yourself in the bathroom. By doing that, provoking Rúben in that way and then putting a door between the two of you - you had started a silent game, in which you were provoking each other in an obvious way, waiting to see who is going to give in first. And you were determined it is not going to be you. 

After hours of playing tease, any slight contact or brush from Rúben’s skin against yours had you biting your lip to silence a sound and any look you gave Rúben with your bedroom eyes had him on the verge of jumping your bones. 

The staring game got a little too heavy for Rúben, so he stood up from the booth and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a cold bottle of water to refresh himself. You knew you couldn't let him get away with it, at least not without trying, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen as well, if he asked, then being dinner time would be a perfect excuse. 

Rúben heard you walk into the kitchen, but paid no mind, deciding to focus solely on his water, placing a hand on the kitchen island and letting his head hang low. Funny enough, the drawer where pans are kept is right where Rúben is, by his left hand, and sure as hell you wouldn't ask anything from him. Which left you with only one choice. 

You walked to where he stood, which he noticed as he turned his head sideways to look at you, and right when he took a step back, you found the perfect opportunity to slip right between him and the kitchen island, your body grinding on him, in all the right places. 

The sound of Rúben’s breathing picking up gave you a sense of victory, as you remained in front of him and bent slightly to take out the pan you needed, only to walk away right when you felt him harden behind you and the ghost of his hand over your hip. 

He really thought he had you. Again. 

Your smile of victory didn't disappear, not even when the stove wouldn't turn on and you had to resort to chopping fruit and hoping that was enough to rid your hunger. Now is when Rúben found the perfect opportunity to tease you back, seeing as you were completely distracted while cutting fruit. He slowly walked back into the kitchen, making sure you couldn't hear him. You were completely clueless to his presence, even when he stood right behind you. 

However, as soon as Rúben took another step closer, you did become aware of his presence. Very. 

“Oh, don't mind me.” he mumbled in your ear. 

“Rúben, what are you doing?” you asked, pretending to be completely unbothered, while the reality is that you're screaming on the inside. His chest was pressed to your back, one of his hands had found its way to your hips, and his breath tingled in your ear. 

And right there was when he reached out to grab a glass, which was on the cabinet above your head. The reality is that he didn't have to stretch to reach the glass, it was just a matter of raising his arm. But where was the fun in that? 

As he stretched, his body pressed even closer against yours, you could feel him hard against you, his breath now in your ear. And in an attempt to avoid his lips, you bent over, a move that only served in Rúben’s favor, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to silence the moan that would come from your lips. 

You both were thinking the same thing. Of just how easy it would be for him to take you right there and then. 

But you wouldn't give up just yet, no sir, you still had one ace up your sleeve. Which is why you picked up your fruit tray and slid out from the right space between the bar and Rúben’s body. 

* 

Normally, you wouldn't care if Rúben decided to just watch you eat instead of eating something himself, but right now it had you on edge. 

You and his mother were sitting on the couch in the booth, while Rúben and Ivan were sitting opposite of you, their dad fishing on the other end of the boat. Rúben was sitting on the seat in front of you, his legs spread slightly, his hands on his thighs and his eyes fixed on you. He was basically manspreading, occasionally lifting his hips from the chair to ‘get comfortable’, but you weren't stupid. 

“Are you done flexing your muscles?” you asked him boredly, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed again as you stood up, his eyes followed your hand closely, especially when you drove your fingers to your lips and sucked the remaining fruit juice off them. The sight almost made him roll his eyes, but not in annoyance. 

“I'm going to the jacuzzi.” you announced, letting your eyes travel over him. “You continue doing that.” 

Even though it had not been an open or direct invitation, you knew Rúben had understood the innuendo. 

You hurried to the jacuzzi, taking off your clothes as the water heated up, you poured the bubble soap while letting your hair down, knowing that Rúben wouldn't be long in coming, although he wasn't hot on your heels to disguise how desperate he was, you knew he was coming for you. 

As you stared at the steaming, bubbly water, a wicked idea found its way to your mind. 

Meanwhile, Rúben paced back and forth in the hallway, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, especially when he stopped and had that urge to open the bathroom door where he knew you were. 

You're just a door away and what's holding him back is his pride. Knowing that if he opens that door, he's admitting his need for you. Proving that chasing after you is more important than his pride. 

He cursed himself for what felt the longest time before giving in and opening the bathroom door. The first thing he saw was steam. Lots of it. It made him squint his eyes while they trailed over the place in search of you. 

His eyes fell on the jacuzzi, it was filled with small bubbles, the room smelt like you, white musk scent surrounding you. And there you were, your back pressed against the side of the jacuzzi, arms spread over the edge, the bubbly water covering your body, stopping right below your collarbones, just atop of your chest. 

His mind automatically went places, but Rúben kept his thoughts at bay as he took off his shirt without a word. You did nothing but stare at him, your eyes following his every move, from the way he gripped the edge of his shirt, to the way he slid it off his body and his torso came into view. 

Rafe took a step closer, but he felt something soft under his foot, so he looked down. And what did he find?

Your swimsuit. 

At first he didn't process entirely what it meant, but then his eyes widened. 

You were naked. 

In the jacuzzi that's just a couple of steps away from him. 

And he was just..standing there like an idiot? Rúben was embarrassed of himself. 

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you noticed how flustered Rúben suddenly got, he actually struggled while taking off his shorts and if you hadn't been so amused by the view, you would have offered to help. 

Eventually he stopped fumbling with its ties and right when he pulled it down his hips, you looked away. Your tongue glided over your teeth as you felt the temptation to look, but you were stronger than that. 

“Enjoying the jacuzzi you said you could live without?” Rúben asked in a calm tone as he got in it, sitting by your right side. 

“Very much.” you assured, running your hand through the water, moving the bubbles slightly, you really had no intention other than to distract yourself from how nervous you were, still, Rúben tried to see through the bubbles. 

He couldn't handle himself anymore, he had denied himself of you for so long that he wanted you now. Told himself he was crazy. But now that he has you in front of him - he will do anything to have you. 

And an idea popped up in his mind. He knew this would be pathetic, lame even, but it would work. 

As you both did nothing but enjoy the hot tub and tried to ignore each other's bodies, Rúben discreetly slid his hand to the side control panel of the hot tub. Although he would never admit it, he spends so much time in the hot tub that he learned the controls by heart. So he knew exactly which buttons to push to disable two of the hot tub jets, the ones on your side, for that matter. 

Your state of relaxation was interrupted as soon as you stopped feeling the hot water flowing on your side of the jacuzzi, the vibrations had stopped and you no longer felt the soft massages on your skin. 

You raised your head and opened your eyes, noticing that indeed, the water stopped on your side. “What the..”

“What's wrong?” Rúben asked, his eyes closed as he did his best to hide a little smirk. 

“The water just..stopped?” you replied in confusion, not understanding why he was so calm. 

“Oh, that's bad. My side is just fine.” he replied simply, opening his eyes. 

You rolled your eyes at his disinterested tone. You couldn't believe that you had actually gone out of your way to plan all this and he couldn't even stop getting on your nerves for a second. 

Utterly done with his bullshit, you slowly moved to the little steps that led out of the hot tub, the last thing you wanted was to slip and embarrass yourself. 

However, before you could even reach them, you felt long fingers wrapping around your wrist, his skin was soft and warm due to the hot bubbly water. You turned to look at him, doing your best to keep your eyes focused on his. 

“Come closer.” his voice was calm, his fingers softly tugged your wrist; as if wanting to pull you closer but not quite to make you uncomfortable. 

You complied to his request and walked slowly to where he sat, the bubbles doing all the work and covering your body from his. You kept getting closer, Rúben slowly opened his legs, so you could stand between them. 

The feeling of the skin of his thighs against yours was your cue to stop, knowing that if you took one step closer, you'd feel him against you. 

His eyes bore on yours. The hazel color of his eyes was darkened by the lust running through his body, his pupils were dilated, his lips plump and red. He was one hell of a handsome man. 

Your faces were inches away from each other, but neither of you would yield to the temptation. 

You bit your lip slightly as soon as you felt Rúben’s large hands resting on your hips, the grip was firm, showing he wasn't hesitating. 

Testing the waters, you took a step closer and he let you, the grip on your hips becoming firmer and more secure, you could even say you felt him pulling you into his body slightly. 

Keeping eye contact, Rúben’s hand began to slide lightly, brushing your hip with his fingertips. His hand moved down to your thigh, where he caressed your thigh with his fingertips, drawing imaginary circles, which moved closer and closer to the center of your legs. 

Knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt fire in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him. And you wanted him now. But you also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe after all you were as stubborn as he claimed you were. 

You motioned to move your leg, and immediately, Rúben took a hold of your thigh, stopping you. A smirk appeared on your lips. Without saying anything, you yielded to his touch and moved even closer, putting your leg over his thigh and quickly bringing the other leg up as well, straddling him. 

The direct contact of your skin with Rúben’s, your core brushing against his dick..made him let out an agitated sigh right in your ear. 

And you would have teased him about it, but the truth is that the contact of his hard dick against your body almost made you moan. He was right under you, all it took was for you to raise slightly and for him to align himself. 

Ignoring how much you wanted to grind on him, you put your arms around his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck in the process, moving even closer, your chest pressed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder, wanting to enjoy the warm water a while longer before the inevitable happened. 

Rúben’s arms wrapped around your body, your breasts pressed against his chest, your pussy brushing just the right places on his dick. If this is the game you wanted to play, then Rúben would be just as good at it. 

He lifted his hips slightly and at that you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which you prayed he hadn't heard, but he did and it only fed his ego. 

As his fingertips caressed your spine, Rúben moved your hair from your shoulders to get better access and brought his lips to your neck. He started with innocent kisses, little brushes of his lips against your skin, while his fingertips caressed your skin. 

However, he was determined to break you. He brought his lips to the small spot below your ear, where he sucked, receiving an audible moan from you. One of his hands had slid down your back until it ended at your left asscheek, which he squeezed and used to push your body against his, causing you to grind on him. 

“Fuck..” you mumbled, throwing your head back out of mere instinct. 

He had so many dirty comments to make, but he decided to concentrate on you. Since you had thrown your head back, he had more access to your neck. He brought his lips to your skin again, starting to leave little bites and kisses all over, while one of his hands traveled to your breasts, his fingers taking one of your nipples and giving it a twist. 

At this you squirmed slightly on top of him, your hips moving against his, rubbing his dick in such a perfect way that it made him growl against your skin. 

“You like that, meu amor?” he murmured against your skin, voice husky “Want me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” you mumbled breathlessly. 

His fingers moved deftly between your legs, as you grasped his jaw and moved his head to the side, so that you could have access to his neck and an efficient way to quiet the sounds he would elicit from you. 

His index finger slipped between your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit until he found it, and began to give circular notions. You accidentally left a little bite on his neck, which was welcomed by Rúben , as he started to speed up his thumb and slid his middle finger inside you. 

“Rúbenn..” you murmured, your walls automatically tightening around his finger. 

“Does this feel good, princesa?” he murmured in your ear as his thumb accelerated his movements, he slid his ring finger in as well, your walls clenching at his voice "Oh it does, you're already clenching around my fingers." 

Now he had two fingers inside you, which he began to move in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot instantly, the one he had found in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh, fuuuck, Rúb-” 

He could feel you, how your walls clenched around his fingers so tightly it was hard for him to move them, your kisses on his neck had become sloppy and wet and your eyes were closed. Just when you felt you would reach the tip of ecstasy, Rúben pulled his fingers out of you. 

You were about to yell at him, but he spoke first, taking your jaw with one of his hands, fixing his eyes on yours. 

“I want to make you cum on my dick, yeah?” 

And you swore you could've come right there. Just by his words. 

“Yeah?” he questioned again, making you realize it had been more of a way to get your permission. 

“Yeah.” you nodded your head eagerly and that was all he needed. 

Rúben wrapped his arms around you and stood up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, biting your lip in anticipation for what was about to come. 

Rúben knew the boat like the back of his hand, so in a matter of no time, both of you were in his room. Rúben placed you down on his bed, not caring in the least that you were wetting it. 

He was soon close to you again, his lips on your skin. Your breathing started to become erratic, unable to control yourself in the face of the new sensations. His kisses traveled all over your neck, part of your shoulders and even on your jaw. 

Without a word, Rúben grabbed you with moderate force by the jaw and caught your lips with his immediately. You lost yourself in the kiss completely, the sensation of his lips against yours stoking the fire within you even more. 

Unable to stay still and wanting to discover your whole body, Rúben began to leave kisses and little bites on your neck. You tried to grab his face to bring him back to your lips, but as soon as you tried, he pulled away from you, took your wrists and put them against the bed, his face was above yours, the room was barely being illuminated by the light that was filtering through the blinds, so you couldn't see much, only the shadow of his features. 

“You want me?” he asked over your lips, his voice hoarser than usual and his breathing was rapid. 

“I want you. So bad.” 

You saw the shadow of a victorious smile on his lips and felt them against yours again, he put both hands holding your wrists above your head, and held both of your wrists with one hand, freeing his other one. 

His kisses began to descend again, with a slowness that clearly had the sole purpose of driving you crazy. You lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel some more of him, while Rúben took advantage of this and positioned himself between your legs with ease. 

He stopped kissing you momentarily, you could feel his breath on your skin and without warning, he returned his hand in between your thighs and now pushed three fingers inside you, while his thumb returned to your clit, you inevitably ended up letting out a moan, as his fingers had hit the right spot again. Having located the spot already, he began to move his fingers faster and deeper, curving them from time to time, accelerating the speed of his thumb as well. 

His lips went lower and lower, until his head was between your thighs and your hand was lost in his hair. His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out an erotic moan that you were ashamed of, because of how loud it had been. 

His hand kept up that incredible rhythm, but what made you almost climax was the feeling after he sucked on your clit and bit down lightly. 

“Rú- Rúben..I'm gonna-” 

That was all he needed to know to remove his hand, he would keep up with his word. As soon as he moved his hand away from your pussy, you immediately felt the emptiness, but you were too busy getting back to normal to complain. 

Rúben brought his fingers covered with your wetness to his lips and licked them clean, the sight of that, combined with the ‘mmm’ that he let out, was mouth watering. 

Rúben pulled you closer to him, so that your legs were over his thighs, he placed his hands on the sides of your head. His dick rubbed against your entrance, which brought gasps to both of your lips. 

He leaned over you and you could hear his breathing fast and heavy in your ear, it was almost like he was waiting for something.

“What's wrong?” you asked. “Are you doubt- ” 

You didn't get to finish saying the sentence, because he entered you with a quick movement of his hips, making you moan immediately, it took a few seconds to get used to the sensation of having him inside you. It always did. No matter how many times you've slept together, he is just so big. 

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting out hoarse mumbles of how good you felt, directly into your ear. Once you felt comfortable, you tightened your walls around him, which made him let out a grunt and start moving his hips against yours. 

You brought your hands to his neck and pulled his face to yours, bringing your lips together in a desperate kiss, as his hips moved incessantly, one of your hands tangled in his hair and as if on reflex, he put a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly, something that made you moan into his lips. 

“How could you do this to me? All that teasing..I’m not made from steel..” he whispered in your ear. 

“Rúben, oh my God..” 

“I love you so much.” 

His words and the movement of his hips made your eyes roll “Don't stop, babe..please.” 

He pulled his face away from yours and placed his weight on the arm he had placed at the side of your head, speeding up his movements. You wrapped your legs around his waist to deepen things. 

You noticed that he started to slow down, but his movements still had depth. You knew he was doing it so he wouldn't tire quickly, but maybe you could help.  You used a considerable amount of strength to be able to turn you both around, ending up on top of him, while he looked at you with his lower lip between his teeth. 

Just to tease him further, you slipped his dick out of you and moved away, your body hovering over his thighs. He sat down on the bed, waiting for you to do something, but you only smirked at him. 

Rúben sat there while stroking himself and being done with your attitude, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to him, starting to fill your breasts with wet kisses and hickeys, biting your nipples from time to time, while you put your legs around him, slowly positioning yourself on top of him, again. 

You knew you wouldn’t last too long, anyway. 

“Stop teasing me, princesa.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

He used the grip he had on your hips and pulled you down, entering you again, a hoarse moan came from his lips. You pushed him down by the chest so he’d lay down and began to move on top of him, in circles and up and down while his hands were on your hips and yours on his chest. 

You knew those moves were only satisfying you, as you moved as you needed to, and Rúben was quick to notice that. The grip he had on your hips began to tighten, a sign that he was getting desperate. Until he finally sat down in a rush, and began to move you at the pace he wanted, as the hand he kept on your hip guaranteed him control. 

“You're so stubborn, you know that?” he emphasized every word with a hip thrust. 

“Fuck, fu- fuck, Rú- Rúb-..” you weren't even able to say his name, or speak at all. 

You placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his neck, starting to move faster. He left sloppy kisses on your chest and you scratched his back, sometimes even left bites on his shoulder to stifle moans, especially when he murmured things in your ear, along the lines of ‘you're mine’, ‘this pussy feels so good’, ect. 

It didn't take long before you two began to lose rhythm, his movements were erratic and your speed had slowed. Until he finally came inside you, seeing the way his eyes closed tightly, as heavy breaths came from between his pink lips along with the “Fuck, Y/N, you feel like heaven..” he mumbled, was what made you climax too. 

While you both came down from your highs, there was nothing but silence, Rúben was still inside you and remained like that, after he turned you over, collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around his body, both of you falling asleep without another word. 

[idv-sunsxin3]

can i request a scenario where a handful of the suitcase gang accidentally consumed sotheby's potion (idk how, they just did lmao) and so turning into their udimos for a day.

w/ diggers, pavia, and horropedia pls. WHEEZE just them tryna grab your attention and you trying to decipher what they want or need 🤣

Pavia, Horropedia, Diggers // Turning into their Udimo

Note// 100% fluff. And not pun intended/ih

____

"Y/N!!!" A distressed, familiar voice of a lady yells as you were minding your own business on whatever you were doing(hot mc stuff ig/lh)

"Ms. Sotheby??? What's the matter?" You were nearly startled by her scream that followed after. Asking with a concerned look as you turned to face her - only to see her holding something that is trying to get out of her grip -

"Ms. Y/N!! Please help!!!" Sotheby cries as she raises this creature towards your face as you automatically flinch back in fear of colliding faces with the small one.

"Wait a minute, is that udimo my partner uses on the suitcase---" You were about to point out something once analyzing until you were cut off.

"I know, I know!!! I miscalculated;;; I was working on a potion and and- I accidentally dropped it on the suicase-- and now he is turned into this!!! It'll worn off in one day, i promise- E-EEP!!"

The young lady whines before squeaking when the creature succeeds in escaping from her grip and jumps on you. Making you quickly try to catch it.

"Wow, there!" You say, caught off-guard until you got licked on the tip of your mouth by the udimo, "H-Hey!! That tickles...-!" You say as you try to muffle your giggles while trying to get the udimo to stop licking or poking your face.

Quietly watching you get along with the udimo, it suddenly gave a lightbulb to the little lady with the big hat.

"How about you take care of him as he seems to prefer your company than mine?" Sotheby offers, "I got an earful from Ms. Sonetto on Ms. Timekeeper's behalf, so I have to clean up the suitcase anyway -" She twiddles her thumbs with a nervous cheeky smile.

"Oh, sure." You sweat as you feel unease yet sparkled by the idea, not sure how to take care of someone who is in their udimo form. But it is just one day, right? Plus, your pretty boy looks so cute in this form that you can't help but nuzzle your face on him--!!!

.

.

.

He licks you again...

Huh. We have to work on that;;;

____

//Pavia//

Pavia is not pleased... not even a single bit when he becomes aware of his condition.

Barks in 'M*RDE!!!'

He is already making some plans on to talk to Sotheby after that--(uh oh).

But on the brighter side--- he finally can talk to his children in their language. Now he has to run with them and other kinds of wolf pack stuff like he wished to do before when he was like... a man/lh

He was growling and barking like some edgy pup the entire time he was woth Sotheby. Who was so terrified the entire time she had to put him into a cage(hahaha) with the help of some people before coming to you.

The moment he found you, he got even more insane by barking louder. As if telling 'Y/N!!! Y/N!!! HERE!! GET ME OUT OF THIS TINY JAIL!!' until he realized it just kept scaring you away, becoming harder to ask for help.

So he ended up trying to apologize by making whimpering noises as his ears went droopy while now dropping on the floor as if trying to chill with his small angry tears - huh??? Is that really Pavia???

You eventually help im release him before Sotheby can protest - that he's now nudging his nose on to your knee as if silently asking for attention. Whimpering more with his eyes now sparkling at you.

"Aww... easy there."

He rubs his face on your leg now as you rub his ears. His tail washing and calming down...

Well, until he starts barking and trying to chase Sotheby to bite her if only she didn't immediately dash away - aiyayai....

Once you feel less intimidated by him, now he tries to tell you he wants gelato just by dragging you by the shirt and pawing a picture of it with his claws.

REALLY, BOY...? THAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU WANNA DO??

I guess he really wants to chill down with something cool, huh--

But then you quickly remember that the dessert won't be wolf friendly--- so you gently nag him that you can'tgive it to him---

.

.

.

Pavia licks your hand before licking you.

"Hey- You should stop doing that or else I'm going to be drenched with your saliva;" You whine as you try to clean your cheek. He doesn't listen and starts licking and softly biting on your arm, too, as if teasing, "Stoooopp--!"

It will be a long day...---

The next day, when he finally comes back to normal, that's when things are really getting crazy again.

You were sleeping with him, so the moment you were starting to slowly wake up from your slumber, you swear you feel strong arms around your body as if clinging on you---

You quickly wake up to notice the familiar tattoos on the knuckles of the hands--- identifying them as your boyfriend's.

But the thing is, you didn't expect to find him naked on the bed beside you.

"AH-" You were about to fall off the bed the moment you wake up and see him - LIKE WHO WOULDN'T JFHDNRNR???

It didn't take a second to catch you before pulling you close to his bare chest. Cuddling against you.

"...Buongiorno." He says with a smug look. Before licking your nose.

"Hey!!!"

"Heh."

___

//Horropedia//

Tilts head in doggo.

He really didn't have this on this year's bingo list. Okay/lh

The sad part is that he can not even be capable of yapping about stuff to you!!! How cruel;;; (it still doesn't spare the fact he woofs a lot as if he's talking)

But well, he was actually calm and rational enough to just follow Sotheby so she can help him find you--- the moment where he spots you is when he gets off of her grips and paws on your shirt. Wagging his tail so quickly.

Starts yapping and barking nonstop at you. Your poor self is having calculations on your mind about wth is he saying--- 'Y/N, omg, can you believe this??? I'm a dog, a dog!!! This is bad, so bad!!!' Bark bark bark bark ba-

Of course, he is aware that the potion will be worn off eventually. He just wanted to scare you by thinking he is panicking= meaning it's actually bad. Since it's rare for him to panic like that.

But spoilers= it's not really bad, lol.

It gets him desperate to want you to know what he wants, not just your attention, that he keeps pawing you gently to your forehead as if bonking you

'Noooo wrong, that's not what I meant..!' Puppy whimpering as he says that internally;;;

So far other than the noises and how talkative he usually is, it really honestly didn't make much of a difference when he is yapping at you in dog(like he gives dog energy when he is goofing or looking happy--)

But yeah, he always paws your leg whenever asking you to reach something for him many times--- like a horror novel from the top shelf, magazines, whatever that can keep him entertain without reminding himself of the predicament until it's over---

You ended up giving him a lot of books on his bed and dog friendly snacks so he can just sit there and flip the pages by himself with his nose---- smart doggo...

Now the way he is getting pampered by being helped in reaching stuff is pretty nice. Even he has a day off from work to binge on his hobby with you now!!! What a paradise.

Once he turns back to normal- he'll be shocked.

Like the moment he starts to wake up from hus sleep, he has a blurred vision of his hands caressing your neck as your back was facing him - wait, HANDS???

He takes a look at his hands as if it is a dream. He pinches himself - ouch, not a dream for sure... Then, he notices something..

Why does he feel chilly.

He slowly looked under the sheets -

He is naked, yep.

He was about to say "yikes-" but remembers you're still sleeping. Keeping that in mind, he tries to sneak away from the bed to go get some clothes -

Until your hands started palming to where he is, pulling him closer to you once they found him.

Now he is a statue. A sweating, flustered, naked statue.

Sigh... those typical aftermath scenes of a person turning back to humans from animals but ends up being naked - how typical indeed. He's gotta wake you up on this one now, huh.

Hey, he doesn't have much fear about waking you up- but accidentally flashing you with his naked slim body in the process is a different story!!!!

"Eh... eh... oh... Babe...?" He whispers as he tries to poke your sides.

... Now, this is a true horror scene in his mind.

____

//Diggers//

He really thought it was juice.

But no, it wasn't;;; 😭

He was calm enough to stay in Sotheby's arms until he decided to hop into yours--- staring intensively at you with those big eyes that seem like they're about to cry;;;

'Baby, help me,,,," 😭🥺 He pleads, but ends up sounding like he is croaking softly. Crap...

Now he's going to be a frog inside a bubble for one day - how is he going to eat now when he's hungry???

He was about to make more worried frog noises as he had to come to the conclusion he had to meditate throughout hunger;;; until you just simply popped his big bubble with a finger.

...Oh.-

The Frog now hops into your arms now, croaking almost as if it’s purring in 'thank you'.

Awww...

So far, Diggers has been a pretty peaceful frog vibing on the palm of your hands.

Well, he may also go silly and start jumping and hopping everywhere at his van - all carefree and adventurous. He would try and watch how high he is when trying to move around outdoors.

Despite him being on your palms once in a while because his skin needs to breath sometimes, he doesn't demand much from you as he always seems to take liking of stating at you work--- except that he has these big doe eyes of a tiny frog now.

I can imagine that he sometimes floats when he summons the huge bubble back to engulf him--

he would be struggling to control how to float towards you at first, but the more willing he wants to stay close to you, the better he was at it;;;

It didn't help when you told him you were just going to be off for 2 minutes for a drink, and he's already trying to follow you by blowing bubbles with his own mouth😭

His doe eyes only close for a long time whenever you gently rub his tiny head;;;;

Once he goes back to normal, he is surprised when seeing his state---- happy surprise.

He wasn't fazed by the fact that he's naked. It's so funny.

Now he sobs happily as he can finally be a man once again---!!! Freedom!!!

He giggles happily before planting kisses on your forehead once seeing you wake up and blushing from seeing him shirtless.

"Darling, I'm finally back,,,"

(also mopping on a corner.... Thinking he has been acting so chaotic around you, he couldn't forgive himself and that he won't get head rubs from you fhdhdbdb)

Oh, how much he underestimated you - you still give him headrubs!!! (He luvs them so much, my god;;)

[admirationandromantics]

Stolen Gazes

Okay, so kind of collected a few requests in one (they're all displayed below!), and made this piece. I don't really think you need a summary, especially if you read the requests. Anyways, again, sorry but I write less now than before. I don't feel as motivated, so I either need time or will only be taking requests I get inspiration from. Aka, daily updates might not be happening in the earliest future.

A the same time, I'm writing on the game based story with Chris (check out the one with Josh if you're interested, it's on my masterlist), and just started writing chapter 3 since it'll be way longer than the Josh story. Enjoy this story though, loads of smut and Chris.

Word count: 2,3k (Unedited)

Chris's eye color is- *so* fucking intimidating to me.. im a very heavy eye contact person and i feel like him looking down at me with his eyes would send me into a puddle on the floor. And when he picks up on it he totally uses it to his advantage !? making you look at him when you two fuck because he knows you get so nervous because of it?/&;9 Him flirting with you by simply staring at you while you speak, simple head nods and "mhm's" until youre slowly speaking and getting nervous and quiet while he's got a growing smirk on his face OH MY GOD -anon I want to stare into Chris's eyes while we jerk eachother off omg? making him breathe hard and stutter while his eyes flutter and his fingers tremble while he fingers you because you're stroking him *just* right -anon

“Okay, so you basically press X to jump and O to crouch, try it” I explain, giving him the controller. Chris takes it, hands brushing against each other as he does. I try to hide my blush, struggling from the room already being too hot. Or maybe that’s just me?

“Still don’t understand why we couldn’t just take the tutorial course” he sighs, trying the buttons and getting used to the movements. 

“Because we’re two very capable adults who can figure this out by ourselves” 

“You’re weird” he comments, letting go of the controller and looking at me. He’s waiting for a reaction, and luckily for him, I give in. 

“I’m not weird, it’s just more fun to figure things out on our own” 

He gives a small smile, gazing deep into my eyes, making my stomach turn. He should not be looking at me like that, lord knows what I imagine. 

“And anyways, those courses often have so much unnecessary info, and the first courses are about getting to know the controller and movements…” I drift off, unable to conjure more words. His stare doesn’t shift, and I can’t help but stare back. Deep blue eyes burrowing into me. I wonder what he’s looking for. 

“Well, keep going” 

“I-um” 

His smirk grows, noticing my sudden shyness. I take a breath, blinking away the moment and turning away. This was intense, not in a normal way, but in the way he’s looking at me, analyzing me. I turn back to the screen, grabbing the controller from his lap. 

“Chris, pay attention” 

“I am” 

I continue to fumble with the buttons, figuring out several more things about the game. I managed to easily get through the first course. Now was the second, and I give him the controller, meeting his gaze once again. 

“Your turn” I state, shaking the device in the air in front of him. He takes it, smiling once again. There’s something behind that smile, something sly or dark. I don’t know, but it feels different than usual. He leans to my side, shoving the controller in front of me. 

“Explain what you found out again” 

“You never struggle to figure these things out, and you said you paid attention, just try” I brush him off, looking strictly at the screen. I know if I turn, I’ll not be able to adjust back. It’s like he’s trapping me. 

“Please” he asks, voice low and hopeful. If he just asked me that in a different context I’d be in a puddle on the floor right now. I have to cave, I just have to. Especially before my mind wanders and I’m sitting like a mess beside him. 

“Fine, okay” I take the controller from him again, going over each button as I speak. 

“So, basic movements are these, as well as these. If you want to attack you click here, and the meter will gradually charge until you can use a super attack.” He hums in reply, being a good listener. I therefore continue my explanation. 

“This is for using the shield, this is for the camera angle and this is magic. But, as I figured out, you can’t use it before-” I make the mistake of looking up at him, but he’s not looking at my explaining fingers. Instead, he’s watching me, my face, my eyes. I stop, again unable to speak as his gaze captures me. I try to snap out, looking away and trying to speak again. My voice fails me, and I see his lips lifting up in that sinister smirk, as if he’s finally figured out something. 

“C-Chris, is something on your mind or can you pay attention?” 

He bites his lip, mouth slightly opens as he takes deeper breaths. His chest rises and falls in a larger manner, and I can’t help but look at him. 

“I’m paying attention to you” 

“No, you’re n-”

My comment is stopped by his lips against mine, caressing them softly. I sigh into him, his hand making its way to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling me closer. I open my mouth, devouring him further, pressing my body against him. The room is getting hotter by the second, filling with the sound of our collected sighs as we explore each other. 

I move over him, straddling him on the bed. His hands move to my thighs, pressing me down further until I feel him poking against me. He suddenly pinches me, making a loud moan erupt. I don’t mean to, the sensation in itself being painful. He smiles against my lips, rubbing the spot with his palm to ease the pain. I already know I’m going to be blue and red tomorrow. If there’s one thing this man loves to do, it’s not playing fair. 

My head buries itself in his neck, tugging and licking his skin, leaving soft kisses all over. He whimpers in reply, head thrown back and hands exploring the hem of my clothing. I grind down on him, earning loud groans from his mouth. I pull his head up and kiss him, feeling the vibration of his sounds as they go down my throat. 

He takes a firm hold of my shirt, dragging it over my head and letting my hair fall messily down again. I’m about to pull it away when he does it for me. Big hands pulling every strand away from my face as we both laugh a little. As I get a better view of him, he stops, eyes again mesmerising and looking deep into mine. He could drown me in the ocean in his eyes and I would just be pleased that they were his colours. 

“Chris, stop looking at me like that” I whisper, my hands making their way under his shirt, caressing his stomach. 

“Why?” he asks, a playful smirk on his lips. Oh, I hate how cocky he is. 

“Because I don’t know what it means” 

“I think you do” 

He pulls his shirt off, letting me get a view of his naked upper body. I take him in, my fingers tracing the curvature of his muscles, leading up to his neck again. 

“That request goes both ways, Missy” he smirks, hands tracing the hem of my bra as he licks his tongue. 

“Shut up” 

“It’s usually I who tell you that” I smile at his response, capturing his lips on mine again. He fiddles with the buttons on my pants, eventually getting them up. His hand immediately dives under my panties, and I gasp at the sudden sensation. 

“I knew I got you to feel like this” he smirks, attacking my neck. I moan into him, body instinctively starting to grind against his fingers. I’m dripping all over him, craving some type of stimulation and attention before it gets too much. His fingers trace over my folds in a teasing manner, and I whine into his touch. 

“Chris, I swear to God” 

“No need for that” 

Two of his fingers go knuckle deep in me, and I moan loudly, unable to control my sounds. He pushes my body away from him, looking up into my eyes. My cheek flush even hotter than before, and I start moving my body on his fingers. 

“I want to watch how I make you feel” 

“Chris” I pant, nails digging into his shoulders, begging him to get me off. He smiles, a faint rose blush appearing. His lids hang low over his eyes, mouth slightly agape and breathing heavily. They’re lustful, hungry, starving. 

He continues his assault, thumb moving up to caress my clit. He rubs soft circles, not putting too much pressure. I move my hips in the same rhythm, needy and craving. My core starts building up, and the edge is nearing. I’ve completely lost control of my vocals, only able to hold a little back as I near my finish. I want him so incredibly bad. I look down, flushed and embarrassed as I keep jerking off on his fingers. His hand goes to my chin, lifting my face to meet his. 

“I told you, I want to see you” 

“I’m gonna” 

“Good, you’re doing so well for me” 

I let go, the tension in my body releases as I come all over his hands. I pant heavily, trying to steady my breathing and the burning desire in my chest. My high doesn’t last long, as he drags my pants and panties completely off, followed by his own. I take in the vision. He’s big, and thick. God, how I want him. 

I put myself on his lap again, grabbing hold of the base of his dick, slowly pumping up and down. He groans loudly, head falling back in pleasure and hands gripping my thighs so tight it almost hurts. 

“At this pace-” he starts, but a moan interrupts him. My other hand goes to grab his face, lifting it up to make him look at me. Now it’s my turn to look at him, to see him. 

“I want to witness how I make you feel” 

“Yes ma’am” he obliges, heavily breathing and face flushed as his chest gets warmer. I spread his legs, continuing pumping as I go down and take my place in between them. I look up to find him staring at me pleadingly, eyes practically begging me to take him. 

I let go, and he whines from the lack of my touch. The action alone gets me all worked up again, and I can’t help the smirk on my lips. I unclasp my bra, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He stares in awe, finally admiring something other than my face. I lean over, using my hands and letting my breasts surround his dick, squeezing them together and moving. I hold eye contact as he whimpers, occasionally trying to mumble something out. 

“Jesus C-Christ, y-you’re so f-fucking hot, please k-keep doing t-that” 

I laugh a little at his state, completely in daze as he watches me move around him. I lean further down, my lips against his tip, taking in the precum before running my tongue all over him. 

“Shit” 

I smile before going down. I fully take him as long as I can, feeling him hit the back of my throat, making me gag. I push upwards, then go down again, finding a good rhythm and sticking to it. One hand goes to his base, giving attention to the parts I can’t reach, while the other goes to his balls, massaging and caressing. His moans are loud and needy, melodies filling up the room. I look up to find his eyes fluttering, glossy and craving. He’s close, so close. 

Suddenly, he pulls me off him, lifting me up and throwing me on the bed. I yelp, the surprise taking a little to digest. 

“Chris, wha-”

“I’m gonna be inside you tonight, and I’m gonna make you feel so good. You got that?” He states, voice still stuttering a bit, but also a serious tone. 

“Yes” 

He lines himself up, glazing himself in my juices before pushing into me. I moan, and he struggles to contain himself, wanting to go all in at once. His face leans down, capturing my lips in his and swallowing my moans. My arms go around his back, nails scratching his skin. The kisses are sloppy and hot, mouths moving in sync perfectly. I’ve wanted him for so long, and just a little sign was all it took for him to get me here. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away and looking at me worriedly. 

“I’m fantastic” 

He pushes all of himself in, widening my walls and connecting our bodies. 

“Fucking hell, you fit me so well” he comments, starting to move slightly. His hands fondle with my breasts, body moving up and down on the bed from how hard he’s railing me. I grip the sheets, needing to contain some of my pleasurable outbursts as he digs deeper with each thrust, almost hurting from the depth. He groans, eyes looking over my body, making sure I’m okay. I pull him into a kiss, securing and assuring him. 

“Been wanting to do this since forever” 

“You have no idea how long I’ve imagined this” I answer, and he smirks. His lips go down to my neck, nibbling and kissing. 

“Really? Tell me all about it” 

I think back to just an hour ago, when I came. How his big veiny fingers clicked and rubbed the controller, how I wished it was me. Every time he eats, drinks, even talks. I imagine his mouth on me, kissing, sucking, teasing. 

“About you fucking me mindless…” 

“Oh, trust me, I’m gonna” 

“How your hands move, how rough you can be…” 

He groans in reply, going faster as I continue, his edge nearing. His thumb goes down to my clit, rubbing and stimulating. I can’t muster up any more words as he continues his attack, taking me everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m gonna” he cries, giving a few more thrusts. I whimper, the stimulation overbearing, making me come all over him again, my walls clenching around his dick. He pulls out, spilling himself all over my stomach. 

He lays down beside me, both of us sweaty and panting like we just ran a marathon. I look over to find him caressing my arm, fingers going up and down softly on my skin. I smile, a small laugh leaving my lips. He looks up, meeting my gaze yet again. 

“What?”

“I never thought this would happen” I admit, shaking my head in disbelief. He laughs with me, standing up and stretching. 

“Honestly, I didn’t either” 

He goes to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel and a glass of water. I take both of them, cleaning myself up and drinking while he kisses my shoulder. An idea pops into my head. 

“You know, we could just get cleaned up in the shower right now” 

“Lead the way”

[nekohime19]

Macaque study # S1

I've seen people arguing that Macaque's redemption was rushed and didn't feel natural and while I never felt like that myself I also wanted to re-watch the show to really see how this redemption plays out and have more insight than just a “gut feeling” about it.

So this is just me analyzing Macaque redemption arc more deeply and how Macaque character is handled in the show 😁.

It's gonna get very long, I’ll go into details. Of course everything stated here is my opinion and you can totally disagree, and maybe what I'm saying is like crazy obvious idk, I just wanted to share it.

Also, I'm gonna cut this in multiple posts, one for each season, cause if not the post is gonna get so long 😭.

First, what I think is important to consider before delving into the episodes and dissecting them is the format of LMK.

LMK is a ten minute episodes series with approximately ten episodes each season and four specials. It's important to consider this because ten minutes is NOT long and it means one season is basically 2h30 which is a very short frame of time to build and develop something. With this being said, what you have to pay attention to is the purpose of the episodes. With the episodes being this short, LMK have to be very direct with the purpose of their episodes and get to the point.

You cannot have multiple episodes focusing on Macaque, his hatred for LBD, why he's doing all of this. Everything has to be decisive. Moreover, even if Macaque is a very recurrent character he's not the MC, his struggles and arc will obviously take a backseat to MK own story no matter how much you wish otherwise. LMK is not a show about redemption, it's a JTTW adaptation following a young boy discovering his powers/destiny. Macaque is a side character, and thus we have to accept that eventually his redemption arc will always take backseat over the main story arcs. And that's probably why it'll always feel as fast-paced or incomplete.

Now with this in mind let's see the episodes and how is Macaque's character portrayed.

Season 1 ep 9

LMK season 1 is basically an introduction to the characters and MK's powers. In each episode we either get the time to know a character or the time to know one aspect of MK's powers. For example, s1 ep3 (“coming home”) is focused on Mei and her relationship with her family and through that we get to understand her character better, the way she grew up and her struggles (not fitting in her family).

S1 ep9 is Macaque’s introduction and that's very important to keep in mind. What is the purpose of an introduction? It's to make the audience see a character and get something out of it. Hero? Villain? Confusing in-between ? The purpose of the introduction is to give you a frame of the character, a first, often one-dimensional frame that can evolve later on. While first impressions are often striking, we always have to keep in mind that characters can evolve and are not defined by their first appearances.

So what does s1 ep9 tell us about Macaque?

First thing you notice is the name of the episode. S1 ep9 is the only episode in season 1 that is eponymous. It might seem like nothing much but I think it's a very important detail considering we're in the introductions season! Even our first taste of LBD is not an eponymous episode despite her being a main villain. Our first taste of LBD appears in “Skeleton key”, s1 ep8, which focuses on what is most important about her character right now : her release.

So why an eponymous title? Why not “The other mentor” or “Focus” to make a call back to the reason MK defeats Macaque in the episode. Why “Macaque”? All other episodes have titles that are centered around either an event or a struggle so why not this one? Even Mei's episode is not titled after her, “coming home” as a title reflects more her struggle than herself. I think having a simple “Macaque” as a title is already very explanatory. It's just Macaque. No indication of good and evil. Just raw unadulterated Macaque.

In this episode, Macaque is the event, Macaque is the struggle, it's about Macaque. What are you gonna get in s1 ep9? You're gonna get a plate full of Macaque. We haven't seen the guy yet and we already know he's gonna be very important later on. You do not get an eponymous episode centered around you in a short 10 episode series without being important.

Also, what is interesting to notice is that Macaque episode is in between two episodes focusing on LBD (ep 8 and ep 10 are about LBD release and possessed DBK) . Guys, the Macaque episode is already circled by LBD's episodes. Considering our knowledge of what will happens to Macaque, I think it's interesting to see his episodes being circled by LBD's episodes. The placement of the episode is also important, we're this far in the season (ep 9 in a 10 episode serie) and we get a new guy? Nah, you know this guy will reappear later on. That's why his episode comes so late. Obviously as an audience you're gonna remember the later episode of s1 when you begin s2. And the later episodes of s1 are Macaque's and LBD's.

Now let's delve into the episode content.

Story wise, I was always a bit confused as to why Wukong is telling MK to destroy a mural of the pilgrims? Maybe it can signify some sort of renewal? But if you put into perspective that it's Macaque's episode then oh boy this gets a whole new meaning.

First scene of the episode? Macaque is not even there and yet you can already tell he's gonna be trouble.

Having close shots of the pilgrims being all covered in cracks. Having shots of Wukong like this in Macaque's episode? Boy, not even one minute in Macaque's episode and we already get drama. Destroying the pilgrims in Macaque's episode is I think a really powerful symbol, especially since in JTTW Macaque symbolizes the side of Wukong that wants to do the journey alone. Obviously this is not JTTW, this is LMK, and we have to separate the two at times but I also think as the source material JTTW should not be completely ignored either. Having the mural destroyed in the beginning of Macaque's episode could be a symbol of how Macaque wants to destroy this image of "the perfect hero Wukong" that is portrayed in the mural with the pilgrims. Mayhaps this is me reading too far into this, but I like to think it is.

The first scene is also a direct confrontation between MK and Wukong on teaching. You have two opposites. The young, impatient mentee. And the inflexible, silent mentor. I say Wukong is silent because our golden guy isn't really good at explaining the purpose of his lesson.

Two very opposite forces that will clash if the wedge between them widens.

So in the first minutes of Macaque's episode, you already get a confrontation between Wukong and MK and Macaque is not even here yet. You can tell this episode will bring trouble between the two, maybe even a wedge. And that's exactly what will exploit Macaque later on. He will use this tiny crack and expand it tremendously.

What is the first appearance of our guy?

This is the very first clear shot of Macaque. And boy I was not ready for it. You got a yellow-colored shot which is generally Wukong color pallets. Obviously, since MK confuses Macaque with Wukong the color of this shot is here to also confuse the audience. But make no mistake. What you have behind Macaque is very important and something I did not notice before rewatching this. This is clearly an eclipse. You got something reassembling the moon before the sun. This is not a meaningless detail especially with the Shadow play episode in s2. First shot of Macaque in the entire series and you already got the moon and sun imagery. Even better, the moon is obscuring the sun, it's overshadowing it and in turns it makes Macaque shine.

First shot of Macaque and you got the sun being obscured by the moon while having Macaque still basking in Wukong's colors. Basically you got the guy whole trauma in one single shot. This is not the moon and the sun being in harmony, this the moon overshadowing the sun. This is Macaque wanting to surpass Wukong, wanting to defeat him but still basking in his colors, so still Macaque following Wukong leads and not his own.

Maybe I read too much into it. But this post is basically me reading too much into things.

Wanna points out that Macaque rarely uses his staff in the entire series and when he uses it, for his introduction, it's when he's trying to trick MK and appear as a hero? Macaque imitating the only hero he knows, which is Wukong, to trick MK is at the same time very ironic but also a testament of how much Macaque's life was and is still centered around Wukong. He's obsessed with him.

What I like in meeting between MK and Macaque is the unsettling feeling you got about Macaque. But yet, he act sin such a compelling way, you can't help but see him as somewhat geniune. MK is the one to approach Macaque, to ask him his name, to question him, to ask him to be his mentor. MK is the one who initiate the contact, which creates the illusion that MK is the one in control, he's the one leading the dialogue with his questioning. At the same time, Macaque doesn't jump at the opportunity of being MK's mentor, he points out that “Monkey King” is already MK’s teacher (by the way this episode is one of the rare time in the entire series that Macaque calls Wukong “Monkey King”, obviously a way to not appear familiar with him to MK).

So in theory he seems good right?

But then you got this very unsettling shot :

Macaque : “But you can't have too many teachers right? I'm sure Monkey King would agree. It's not like he wants to hold you back.”

This dialogue with this particular image is why you are thinking : this is a shady guy. First, the shadows are in a very strange twisted angle and only in one corner of the frame. This gives an unsettling feeling, especially since they are on the edge of a building. Twisted angles are used a lot in this episode to give Macaque an unsettling feeling. The music, those low notes, are also a bit unsettling.

Then you look at what Macaque is saying and you realize, yeah, something is up. He begins with an affirmation to explain why it's good for MK to have multiple teachers. Then he uses Wukong's name to give credits to his words and ends with something that appears genuine but in reality is really manipulative. Saying “It's not like he wants to hold you back” is implicitly saying that if Wukong doesn't agree with MK having multiple teachers, then Wukong wants to hold MK back. And MK, idolizing Wukong, would never think this of Wukong and thus, with his own desire of wanting to know cool techniques, will agree to Macaque proposition and convince himself that, no, Wukong doesn't wants to hold him back and thus even if he doesn't ask Wukong permission, Wukong has to agree with this.

At the same time, this is the first seed of doubt Macaque plants in MK minds. Does Wukong want to hold MK back?

We got classic manipulation here.

At the same time, it's the first appearance of Macaque and even if he's not here Wukong is mentioned a lot. MK confuses Macaque for Wukong, the whole colors of the scene (except for Macaque and the monster) are yellowish, Macaque mentions Wukong multiple times, the staffs are shown (both Macaque's and Wukong's). Then you got Macaque replacing Wukong's symbol on MK's jacket with his own.

Okay. They're not trying to hide it, this is not MK’s enemy, Macaque is Wukong's enemy. It shows. Everything is about Wukong. Macaque is about Wukong.

By the end of the scene, you know Macaque is not to be trusted and everything about him is unsettling. What you got is essentially : a shady guy who's somehow linked to Wukong.

And really, the unsettling feeling doesn't stop there.

The next scene is the training scene with Macaque.

He feeds on MK's insecurities by telling him he expected better of THE Monkie Kid and thus pushes MK to overwork himself. MK wants to be recognized and Macaque knows it and uses it to his advantages.

There are cool parallels between Macaque's training and Wukong's training.

You got Wukong who's very far from MK and lounges on his cloud, not training with his mentee. There is a distance between them. Meanwhile you got Macaque training alongside MK, doing the gestures with him. You might think : does this mean Macaque is a better mentor? But then you see that Macaque training alongside MK is once again a shot with only their shadows and it unsettles you, because shadows are not really you, they're reflections, a lie of some sort. And Macaque is lying in this scene, he's pretending.

Then you have MK confrontation with Wukong and you got this :

Like, this is unnecessary. If your plan is to defeat Wukong, why the hell would you reveal your existence to the guy like that? It's because more than defeating Wukong, Macaque wants to torment him. He's taunting him. Erasing Wukong’s symbol and replacing it with his own. Even the symbol face is taunting, mocking Wukong. Because what Macaque wants is to get Wukong's attention, to taunt him, to torment him, to upset him.

The next scene is the battle with the Shadow monster and Macaque just cannot stop being unsettling. The camera is slightly shaking (re-watch the episode to see it) and this is so twisted, having Macaque not even fully in the shot, pressing down on MK, then pushing him forward :

He's doing a pep talk, trying to lift MK's spirits, but you know his true intentions with the shots. He's not genuine. He's manipulating him, pushing him.

And then the betrayal, which I think is really interesting when you catches some details :

First, you got the monster becoming Macaque. Literally. The moment of the betrayal the monster MK was chasing becomes Macaque. Pretty telling imagery about how Macaque was the true enemy all along

But even more interesting :

The Macaque that was with MK since the beginning becomes the monster. I didn't catch this at first. You can see in the first image there are two Macaques, the one at MK's side who's been with MK since the beginning of the episode, and the one holding the golden flame who is the monster turned into Macaque. But then, the Macaque we know since the beginning leave MK sides and turn into the monster (second image).

Pretty cool imagery of the monster was at your side since the beginning.

Does this mean the Macaque who's been with MK all this time was a clone???

Macaque overshadowing MK, having his shadow looming over MK like this, you cannot have a more telling image about MK's feeling in this situation. He's helpless and he has been in Macaque's shadow since the beginning of the episode despite being the MC. And this shows, because the fight just after is between Wukong and Macaque and MK is on the side until the end of the episode where he takes the spotlight back from Macaque.

The dialogue of this interaction is also very telling of the relationship between the two :

Then Wukong arrives and the two monkeys talk/banter.

Macaque : Monkey King! It's good to see you bud.

Wukong : Are you ever going to get sick of living in my shadow? It's time to get back what you stole.

Macaque : You are such a gem. It's gonna be so satisfying killing you with your own powers.

The taunting on both sides is so heavy you wonder why even they're doing this. First you got Macaque emphasized on bud ( a nickname we know Wukong used with Macaque in the past) to imitate Wukong and mock him. He uses Wukong's title, Monkey King, as a taunt, an insult to wound Wukong's pride. Wukong doesn't have to respond to the taunt and yet he does with a taunt of his own, calling out one of Macaque's insecurities we learn in season 2 (the shadow play episode, being left in Wukong's shadow). We know Macaque is affected by this taunt because despite him smiling his eyebrows are twitching. Then Macaque answers by sarcastically praising Wukong (wonder if the use of gem is because Wukong is a stone monkey) something he might also used to say in the past and end with literally “I'm gonna kill you” which in a kid's show is surprising. I think the fact Macaque found it satisfying to kill Wukong with his own powers is a testament of how Macaque primary goal is not to kill Wukong in itself but to take revenge, to humiliate him, to upset and torment him.

They both know each other and they know how to hurt the other with their words. They know how to get under the other's skin.

The fight between the two monkeys is just full of parallels between the two. When one uses a power, the other will use the exact same power. They're equal in this sense, two faces of the same coin. I'll go back to this idea of equality between the two monkeys in the later seasons.

Once again Macaque's dialogue is very interesting when he's fighting Wukong :

Macaque : seriously? You fell for that? (laughing/ after he take MK appearances to trick Wukong in the fight). Sorry kid, nothing personal.

Okay, first using MK appearance is so dirty Macaque but he's already been introduced as a very manipulative guy so no surprise here. The fact he says “nothing personal” really speaks volumes about how all of this is truly about Wukong and how Macaque doesn't have any grudges towards MK in particular. In a way, we can say Macaque truly has nothing personal against MK as an individual, this whole mess he's causing is because he wants to rile up Wukong.

Macaque : Come on! Show me the real Sun Wukong! The whole you would have leveled this whole mountain range to stop me! But you're scared of hurting some kid? Pathetic!

This is gold, because it subtly shows what Macaque really wants. He wants the old Wukong. At the same time he wants to torment Wukong but he also doesn't like the change Wukong endured in the pilgrimage (who likely caused their fight). He wants to get Wukong back to his old ways, perhaps to prove that Wukong never changed, that him being a hero is nothing more but a scam.

I can see how after being brought back to life seeing your old buddy so wise and changed, being so different from what you knew, is unsettling. Personally, I think there is a form longing there. Macaque wants his old bud back. But there is also a twisted need to prove Wukong never changed, perhaps because Wukong being a hero is, in some ways, what marked the end of Wukong and Macaque's relationship (we'll see that in the Shadow Play episode).

In the end, Macaque is defeated by MK, which I think is a nice way to round this up and give MK his spotlight back as the MC.

The sunlight piercing the clouds, the more soft yellow colors after Macaque's aggressive purple, and the two of them hugging is a nice way to solve the struggle of Macaque's episode.

The wedge between MK and Wukong being one of the main plot points of Macaque's episode is really symbolic. In a way, maybe Macaque sees himself in MK, or more precisely sees himself in MK and Wukong relationship. As such having MK and Wukong mending their wedge is a nice parallel of Wukong and Macaque which never truly mended their own wedge and instead kept widening it.

So we got our first taste of Macaque and oh boy it was something. Of course, the introduction doesn't define the character for the rest of the series, character development often happens. I think a lot of people stay stuck in their first impression of Macaque. Especially since Macaque has such a strong and appealing introduction in terms of imagery and symbolism. The shadows shots, despite being unsettling, are really cool, the imagery is unique and weirdly appealing. Macaque’s theme is also not like any other of LMK's themes, it's more somber, more quiet. I'm vibing everytime Macaque's theme begins. Macaque introduction marks you but it doesn't mean the guy doesn't get any developpement afterward.

So, after Macaque introduction, the audience have one thing in mind : villain confirmed ✅. Even if you don't catch all the details, you know this. Macaque is also more scary than the other villains. He's more manipulative, smarter, he can go toe to toe with Wukong (in this episode), at this point he's the most terrifying villain of LMK (LBD not being fully introduced yet).

Okay, so this was my analysis for Macaque in season 1, of course you can disagree. I'm not a professional in terms of animation nor in analyzing stories, nor do I claim to be and every theory is welcome and worth it. I just wanted to do it and I thought some people might be interested in it 🤷.

I'll post the analysis of Macaque in season 2 in another post.

Next

[furubabasket]

dunmeshi posting today (spoilers ahead for manga marcille stuff)

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i feel like there is so much to say and analyze about the fact that marcille's biggest--realest--fear is outliving everyone around her... specifically within the world of dungeon meshi that kui has created.

marcille's fear will certainly happen. (maybe not with falin, if her lifespan has been dragonified, but there's no way for us or for falin or marcille to know this yet.) and marcille has already watched every single one of her close friends die--temporarily. sometimes the circumstances have been dicey (or in falin's case nearly impossible) in ways that caused mounting dread and very real fear (in a way that seems uniquely upsetting in a world which has gotten somewhat blase about dungeon deaths--to have casual hope and to lose it), not even mentioning the initial shock, but so far, loss has not been final for marcille in recent years. that makes it hit all the harder when she has to contend with the possibility of falin being Dead For Good (such as when they couldn't find her bones in the dragon's stomach).

the thing that makes me absolutely sick about this is how marcille ends up just... having to swallow that her fear will come to pass. she just has to accept that both the "fix" she hoped for (the possibility of equalizing racial lifespans) is unethical and the "fix" she ALREADY USED (dungeon revivification) is impossible to implement everywhere. she just has to accept that no matter what, even in a world where death and loss isn't always final, she is doomed to experience it anyway or else succumb to the abusive and addictive pull of the demons' "security" like thistle and mithrun. (sidenote: all of the dungeon lords being elves, iirc, is telling and tragic.) I love the ending of dunmeshi and find it so compelling, and yet this is something that sticks out to me as so, so importantly "unresolved" even if I can't fully articulate it. marcille is not over this, and she can't be--while everyone else looks to the future, by definition hers is darker. that's going to take a lot more time to come to terms with. the moral is that whole "eating is the special privilege of the living," right? the moral comes down to "life involves hurting and being hurt, and that is the way of things, no matter how we run from it... but that doesn't have to be soul-crushingly depressing." marcille's friends are aware of the burden she has. they talk with her about her fears and comfort her without minimizing them. they help her feel less alone in what is a completely alienating existence. it's so fucking sad. it's horrifically sad! she got to save falin--but for how long? she got to save falin--but what about the next one? she got to save falin--why is that okay, but she isn't allowed to "have" everyone else? saving falin was only possible because of the help of a demon and forbidden magic, and while it's presented creepily, as readers we're certainly meant to root for falin's return. it's a "good" thing. it's the entire point of the first act, and the entire point of the very last. it's the good ending. it's happy! it's hard-won! and yet marcille needs to learn to accept death.

this dissonance is intentional, of course, and that's what makes it so fucking interesting. of course marcille goes crazy for a second. of course she struggles and obsesses. everyone else, functionally, gets to have what she wants! everyone else gets to "have" the dead now, no strings attached, no abnormal amount of future grief to carry. (for the opposite, past loss, imagine being kabru: being raised from the dead--watching your friends get casually revived--paying for the privilege--and thinking of your long-dead mother, who didn't get this chance, and wondering how easy it could have been.) in the future, when marcille's losses come, the dungeon's rules won't be around to protect her anymore from that cold, dull finality. it'll be real when it wasn't before. and she just has to be cool with that. man. MAN.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Anachronism, Chapter One: “Wake Up”

Summary: A woman wakes up kidnapped, bound, and without her glasses in an unfamiliar place. She’s also has her memories wiped, and even though some things sound familiar, it physically hurts when she tries to remember anything. This is the worse day of her life. (So far! :D)

Contains: OC protagonist with amnesia, platonic oc x canon relationships for a good while, kidnapping, possible human trafficking, Chung Myung busting heads (shocker)

WC: App. 2,700

No matter how hard she tries, the woman absolutely cannot wake up. So far, she can't tell if she's been asleep for hours, days, or weeks. All she knows is that, after all of this time, it seems like it's nearly impossible to wake up. All she currently feels is her body floating in an endless void, and everytime she attempts to open her eyes she's greeted by the same dark emptiness. She closes and opens her eyes one more time, and is still met with disappointment.

‘Why am I struggling so much with waking up?’ She thinks, and shortly after that she starts to feel like she's free falling. Suddenly, her whole body jerks in response to the falling sensation and her eyes fly open. She gasps, but relaxes when she notices she wasn't actually falling. ‘That was the most intense hypnic jerk I've ever felt!’ She thinks, and is immediately caught off guard by the light assaulting her eyes.

The void quickly fades away, but the sunshine beaming on her causes a great deal of pain. All she can do is rapidly blink her eyes until they adjust. After a while, the searing pain fades away and she can finally take in her new surroundings. She’s excited to look around until she realizes how blurry the world is.

‘This is fine’, she thinks, ‘I just need to put my glasses on…’ When she tries to feel around for them, she notices that her hands are bound behind her back with a rope. There's a cloth tied around her head to stop her from talking, but on the brightside, her legs are free. ‘Why would you leave the legs alone? Whoever tied me up did a shitty job,’ she thinks while trying to avoid panicking and continues analyzing the situation.

She turns her head and notices she's been sleeping on a raggedy wooden cart with some straw under her. She can hear hooves clopping on dirt and sees that the tree line above her is moving. After turning her head to get a slightly better view of the front, she notices a man in the front seat.

She assumes he kidnapped her, and her heart begins to pound when the gravity of the situation seeps in. This man kidnapped her, she doesn't know where she is, she's literally half-blind without her glasses, and they're headed to who-knows-where. She has no idea what he might do to her. Is he going to sell her to human traffickers? Murder her? Cook and eat her?

She doesn't want to stick around and find out, so she'll have to act soon. He looks like he's taller and beefier than her. If she runs and he pursues her, there'd be a high chance that she'd get caught again. But running is better than just sitting there and doing nothing, so she decides to try to escape.

The woman raises her pudgy legs in the air and swings them back down so she can use the force to sit up. After doing that a few times, she finally manages to sit up right. Then, she slowly tucks her knees under her and carefully stands up. The cart's movements are unpredictable and rocky, so she has to concentrate on keeping her legs stable. Now, it's time for the hard part: jumping off of the moving cart.

Jumping off without injuring herself is going to be impossible, but it'll be worth it. It's either that or stay kidnapped, so she just needs to gain the courage to jump off. ‘Do it, pussy. It's now or never. Do it! Do it! Do it!’ She tells herself, but she keeps standing there. Her heart feels like it's going to pop out of her chest as she tries to perceive the depth between the cart and the ground. She can't tell how high the cart is, and the blurry vision makes this situation even more terrifying.

‘Fuck it, parkour!’ She screams internally and finally takes her leap of faith. When her body hits the ground, she rolls a couple of times, and thankfully doesn't break anything. When she stops, she attempts to get back on her knees like earlier. When she manages to stand up, she hears the man yell,” Get back here, little girl!”

‘Little girl!? Who does he think he is! I'm grown and he has the gall to call me that? ‘Little girl’ my ass-‘ she thinks, but snaps out of her thoughts. Right now really isn't the time for that. She needs to start moving before she gets kidnapped a second time.

She starts sprinting as fast as her short legs can, and she thinks her escape plan is going well so far. When she peeks behind herself, she notices the man has started pursuing her. She tries to give herself some form of reassurance by remembering she got an earlier start, but it doesn't help much. She just needs to focus on running as fast as she can.

‘No matter what, I need to keep moving, and when I lose him, I'll-‘ “Hey, watch where you're going!” Her thoughts are interrupted by someone screaming in front of her. The woman was too focused on the man behind her to notice she was rapidly approaching someone else. She tries to avoid him, but ends up tripping instead. As her body is being flung forward, the guy flawlessly dodges her before she can fall onto him. She hits the hard ground face-first and, after all of this, she's decided that this is the worst day of her life.

“Damn, that looks like it hurt! You know you’re supposed to look forward when you run, right? Did you learn your lesson?” The guy she almost crashed into starts asking her, but there's no way in hell she's sticking around to answer him. She rolls over and gets on her knees for the third time today, but before she can get on her feet she hears her captor scream at her again. When she looks back, she notices that the distance between them is rapidly closing. He's too quick, and there's no way she'll be able to escape now. Her eyes widen as the panic sets in, and her wide-eyed gaze turns towards the man she almost ran over.

The dark-haired man traces where her eyes were, and suddenly darts towards her kidnapper. She doesn't care about that right now, and just wants to escape to safety. All she needs to do is get back on her feet, start running, and then-

BAM! BAM! BAM! All she can hear is the distinct sound of fists mercilessly pummeling someone. The woman turns around and squints her eyes to get a better look, and the kidnapper is getting his ass handed to him. Not even five seconds later, the fight was over and the smaller man reigned victorious.

She's stunned while she watches him calmly walk back to her. He doesn't seem that strong, but he still managed to knock out that big guy. Saying she's impressed would be an understatement. “Come here,” the victor says when he approaches her, and she scoots back. Her nerves are still high after the anxiety-inducing events she just experienced. He scoffs and continues,”I'm just trying to help you.”

Her intuition tells her he's not going to do anything, and, considering what just happened, he doesn't seem like the type to hurt random people for no reason. She turns around and lets him untie the ropes. After untying them, he undoes the cloth that the captor had stuck in her mouth. She can finally speak! “T-Thank you,” she mutters out, and her voice is a little hoarse. She's thirsty, her body is sore from laying on hard wood for so long, and her wrists have marks leftover from her bindings. The woman has no idea how long she was unconscious, but based on the evidence, it must've been a really long time.

It's a good thing she almost crashed into this random guy. He saved her life, so she feels like just thanking him isn't enough to show her gratitude. “How can I repay you?” She asks while rubbing and staring at her wrists. “Preferably with money or food,” he replies bluntly. A tiny snort comes from her, and she decides that she likes him and how forward he is. People like him are easy to talk to.

She gets up with ease thanks to being able to finally use her hands, and searches herself for anything she could repay him with. The woman doesn't find anything valuable on her person, but when she looks over at her captor, she gets a genius idea. She makes her way over to the presumably unconscious man. The piece of shit hasn't moved or made a sound, so she assumes it's safe to approach him. The woman picks up a stick and pokes him a few times to make sure he's still out, and thankfully he is.

She searches his pockets and finds a half-full coin purse on him and takes it with zero remorse. What's he gonna do? Steal it back? He's out cold! She wastes no time getting back to the dark-haired man. “Please don't judge me,” she comments.

He shrugs and doesn't seem bothered by her actions. “I don't care. He probably deserved it, anyway,” he replies nonchalantly. “I hope this is enough,” she says while giving him a handful of coins. She can't exactly tell if she's giving him too much or too little. She assumes it was an okay amount, because right after receiving the payment he says,”Thank you!” and turns around. He has a pep in his step when he walks off thanks to the money he just received, but the woman he just saved still needs him.

“W-Wait!” She blurts out, and he stops and looks back at her. “I don't know where I am…” “You're on the outskirts of Shaanxi.” “Shaanxi?” She asks. It sounds familiar to her, but she can't put her finger on where she's heard it before. No matter how hard the woman tries to remember, her mind keeps drawing blanks. She starts getting a small headache while trying to remember, so she rubs her temples in an attempt to ease some of the pain.

The young man in front of her notices this, and after an awkward pause he continues,”You really don't know where you are, do you?” “Nope, no idea,” she states while brushing the dirt off of her. She hopes she'll get to take a shower soon. He points at the cart she was previously in,”It looks like you guys were entering the area before you ran off.”

Her light-colored eyes squint as she tries to look at the cart in the distance, but it just looks like a blurry brown blob to her. She isn't even sure why she tried looking. ‘Maybe it's because I'm so used to having glasses? she guesses. “Were you entering Shaanxi, too?” She asks while attempting to keep eye contact despite her half-blindness. His eyes look like two fluffy dots to her.

“Yeah, I was on my way to Mount Hua before you almost ran into me. Speaking of which, I'm going to start going now,” he says and begins walking off again. “Wait!” She exclaims and follows him. She tries her best to keep up with him, but it's a struggle. He's in a hurry to get to this place, and doesn't plan on slowing down anytime soon.

“What is it now!?” He asks and snaps his head towards her. “Can I follow you for a little bit? At least until we reach a town or something. I need to figure out what I'm doing and where I'm going,” she pleads. “I guess, as long as you don't cause any trouble or slow me down,” he answers, and this lifts the woman's spirits ten fold.

“I won’t, I promise! Thank you so much!” She beams at him, but pauses before they pass the wagon. She runs up to it, notices a sack that was sitting in the passenger seat, and grabs it. The owner tried to kidnap her, so she feels no remorse after looting his pockets and his wagon. Before returning, she looks back at the criminal and considers kicking him in the face, but decides not to. She doesn't want to keep her friend waiting.

She sprints as quickly as she can to catch up to him and announces,”I found more stuff.” “You robbed him again?” “Yeah, I thought about kicking him, too,” after she drops that bit of information he shrugs and keeps walking. The woman starts shuffling through the raggedy bag in hopes that she'll find something useful. It looks like all of that running was worth it, because after digging around she finds some clothes. She digs deeper, and in the bottom there's a few coins and a pair of glasses. ‘Things are really starting to look up!’ she thinks before she pulls them out.

She puts them on and is filled with disappointment when she realizes the lenses are broken. Her vision is mostly corrected, but the cracks get in the way. “Welp, shit, it's better than nothing, I guess,” she mutters and looks beside her so she can finally get a glimpse of her hero.

She assumed he'd be closer to her age after he managed to take down a guy twice his size, but he looks younger than her. His overall appearance is disheveled, his black hair needs to be washed and brushed, and his eyes are her favorite shade of pink.

“You're staring,” he points out, and she panics. Her eyes dart down towards the dirt and her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she apologizes,”Sorry, I couldn't really see you until, like, five seconds ago.” “That explains the lack of eye contact we've had until just now,” he comments, and she forces herself to regain eye contact with him despite her nerves. “What's your name, anyway?” He asks, and such a simple question catches her off guard. ‘My name… Wait what is my name?’ She asks herself before a sharp, stabbing pain echoes throughout her head as she desperately tries to remember.

She rubs her temples and cringes while she tries to remember despite the extreme discomfort. The harder she tries, the more it excruciating it gets. “You good?” His question helps bring her back to reality. She tries to relax her face and keep a calm front despite her current circumstances. “I'm gonna be honest, I don't know what my name is,” she admits while trying to stay calm.

“You don't know your own name!?” He exclaims and she sighs to relieve the stress-induced tightness in her chest. The pain fades when she stops trying to force herself to remember her own name. “Well, it's more like I don't remember my own name, and everytime I try I get a headache,” she tries to explain. “Well, that's a serious issue. Did he knock you on the head or something?” “I guess. That's the only logical explanation for all of the amnesia and my head aching,” she adds.

“I need to call you something…” His sentence trails off and a finger raises to his chin as he brainstorms. ‘Heh, just call me ‘something’... I shouldn't say that out loud. Now isn’t a good time for joking, and that one was kinda lame’, she thinks and has to stop herself from smirking before asking,“What's your name?” “Chung Myung,” he answers, and goes back to thinking about what to name this random woman he stumbled across.

To her, his name feels familiar and somewhat comforting like Mount Hua and Shaanxi, but can't put her finger on why. She decides to ignore it and doesn't push herself to remember, because she doesn't want to suffer anymore. As they're making their way down the dirt path, she looks up at the branches that shade their path. Despite the cracks in her glasses, she tries to admire the scenery. Their bright emerald branches decorate a clear sky, and the weather isn't too warm or too cold. It must be spring.

She looks back at Chung Myung, and sees that he's still in deep thought. “Anything is fine, y'know. I don't mind as long as it's appropriate and not insulting like ‘loser’ or ‘bitch’…” “Yeah, I've got nothing,” he comments and looks down at the noticeably shorter woman. He's not exactly tall, either, but the top of her head only reaches his mouth. “Heh, shorty,” he cackles and she looks offended. “Do not call me that!” “What? You said anything is fine as long as it's not inappropriate or insulting like ‘loser ’ or ‘bitch’,” he retorts. She huffs and before she can snap back, she's interrupted by her stomach growling.

She feels like it was embarrassingly loud and wants to ignore it, but he points out,”Are you hungry? Because you sound like it.” “Yeah, I don't remember the last time I ate…” “Shocker.” “I know,” she sighs and tries to ignore the emptiness and hunger cramps. “If my memory serves me right, there's a small town up ahead. We can get food there,” he mentions and picks up his pace. “Hurry, I’m hungry, too,” he adds and she tries her best to keep up with him.

She probably shouldn’t follow strangers around but her gut says it’s okay to keep following him, so she does. It’s not like she has any other options, anyway. It’s either follow the man who just rescued her or get lost while trying to find her way in this unfamiliar world. She chooses to put her trust in him and keeps walking to their next destination.

Next Chapter

[yakool-foolio]

gundham for the ask game?? i lov him

GUNDHAM GODDAMN TANAKA MY FIRST LOVE IN DANGANRONPA

Favorite thing about him: His dialect is sososo fun and interesting to analyze. I think he's the main reason I became so obsessed with analyzing and making up my own canon compliant dialect for Vivia. Gundham sparked that fire of dissecting metaphors n analogies and translating them to better understand his behavior and how he conveys his thoughts and feelings through speech. It's incredibly entertaining to write for him, so much so that about two years ago I made my own ask blog for him being in Dead By Daylight's universe. Gotta combine the brainrots of the time somehow.

Least favorite thing about him: Out of all the members of the Ultimate Despair, Gundham feels the least likely to ever end up on their side. It has just never sat right with me that he would fall into despair that easily in the anime, especially since he fought so hard against it in the game. I understand that Chiaki meant a lot to her classmates, but her death doesn't feel like the straw that should break the camel's back for Gundham, notably because he's the one who will literally fight to the death to revive everyone else's morale. The anime is a guilty pleasure of mine, but I refuse to believe that he'd give in to despair that easy. I like his Ultimate Despair design though, it's rad. Too bad we only get to see it once.

Favorite line: He has soooooooooo many iconic and fantastic lines it's not fair to choose one, but I will restrain myself just this once. "Because I, the one who has claimed dominion over evil, am the Ultimate Weapon! I am he who cuts the insolent catalyst which flows out from the chaos with the sword of victory… It's only fitting that I deserve to be called the Ultimate Weapon…!" The fact that he called himself the Ultimate Weapon because he utilized the funhouse's secret after he discovered it in order to kill Nekomaru HURTS REAL BAD. He planted hints to him being the culprit throughout the entire trial because it was never his intent to get away with his murder at all, especially since he fully expected to be the victim himself. He and Nekomaru sacrificed themselves so that the others could live on. I cry.

BROTP: Gundham and Gonta are such a sweet duo in UTDP and Summer, they deserve so many more interactions. They get to exchange their love of all different types of animals with each other until they're walking National Geographic magazines.

OTP: SONDAM! They match each other's dorkiness to a T. Autumn is their season and nobody can take it away from them. Horror movie dates are always a pleasure. They're obnoxious talkers in the theaters, but I'd let them ramble to their heart's content.

NOTP: I'm the type of person who's chill with a lotta different pairings if the shipper(s) make it work. However, one pair I can never imagine being romantically involved is Gundham and Hiyoko. He doesn't give two shits about her bullying him for his eccentrics, but he definitely greatly disapproves of her abuse toward animals. She's trying to better herself post-game, but it'll definitely take a while for her misdeeds to be forgiven by Gundham and they can work toward being on friendly terms.

Random headcanon: Due to isolating himself from others, Gundham never really took the time to question his romantic orientation. That is, until he was accepted into Hope's Peak Academy and was surrounded by other students. He swiftly came to terms with his romantics towards certain people, as sparse as he shows it. Nekomaru and Sonia definitely pushed those unknown feelings into deeper consideration, as he admittedly crushed on both of them at some point and has ultimately fallen for Sonia. He fights with himself every now and then over his feelings, but overall he views his orientation as simply natural, unchanged by time. In regards to his asexuality, he occasionally makes comments to conceal his distaste for raunchy things and attempt to fit in, pushed into doing so by his insecurities, but he recognizes its his true nature to abstain from such desires. Intimacy is romantic for him, and that's all that it has to be for him to be happy.

Unpopular opinion: I have no idea if any of my thoughts could really be classified as unpopular, but I'll toss something unusual out. Connecting to what I've stated earlier, I wish Gundham was shown fighting back more against the brainwashing in the anime. If they had the time, it'd be interesting to see the absolute extremes Junko would have to go through to crush Gundham's unwavering spirit. We could get real dark by having his mom killed in front of him. This forces him to accept that without her, only nature is on his side now, as humanity is beyond saving and what he's committing as an Ultimate Despair is a mercy killing.

Song(s) I associate with him: Kyrie by Mr. Mister cause the angelic imagery makes me sob profusely aughhhh... Eighth Wonder by Lemon Demon and When You Die by MGMT are runner-ups!

Favorite picture of him: This art piece I was gifted as part of a Silent Hill Tumblr Mutuals discord server's Secret Santa, featuring Gundham n Carmina/The Artist from Dead By Daylight, who I made ask blogs for and so deeply love imagining being the bestest of buds!

[itsclydebitches]

IT'S BEEN A DOOZY OF A DAY, FOLKS

Yeah I've got a couple asks about it lol. (Always a terrifying experience when you log onto tumblr and immediately wonder why your inbox blew up...)

Man, I don't even know how I'm feeling right now. We've spent so many months working on the semi-confident assumption that RWBY would be cancelled that on the one hand I can't feel very shocked about this. On the other hand there's definitely a wide-eyed part of my brain going, "Holy shit the 'RT is failing' theories finally came true O_O" I'm kinda devastated that a company that's been a part of my life for almost a decade (and for other fans far longer) is just up and gone, but simultaneously I don't care because what I loved about RT hasn't existed for some time now. We've already been dealing with that nostlgia for years, we just got a hell of a concentrated dose of it today. There's admittedly some level of vindication regarding those who've been pulling shit in the company for so long and empathy for those who were just getting by and are now suddenly out of a job. There's regret that (despite my tendency to fall VERY behind on projects. RIP I owe everyone in this fandom a massive apology) I'll probably never have an official end to my RWBY Recaps. And there's worry about how this will impact the fandom...

Yeah, not to jump on the pessimism train, but I feel like this is going to catapult some fans' misreadings into new territory. RWBY is now forever the show that was canonically unfinished and thus its perfection is assured. Think there are major issues in Volume 9 and earlier? Nah, that's setup for Volumes we just never got. Catch a contradition or other mistake? They would have explained that if they could. Any possible issues with the show if it gets picked up by someone else? Well, of course there are issues, RT isn't writing it! This was already a fandom where having accurate, nuanced discussions about the text was hard as hell... but it just got so much worse.

Honestly, I say let it go. If they're going to do anything I'd prefer a complete reboot/reworking so that this story might stand a chance. Airing new RWBY Volumes was already beating a dead horse. Resurrecting the horse to start beating it anew just feels ridiculous. Yes, I'm sad for those fans who wanted an official ending, but we've spent so much time waiting on RWBY, being worried about RWBY's future, and I personally have encounted so many shows lately whose finales soured my enjoyment that there's something reassuring in the combination of definitive ambuguity here: you know you're not getting an ending by RT, so just have fun imagining your own.

Overall, I feel like I've got to sit with this for a while, you know? I totally get why so many fans (partiuclarly RWDE fans) are celebrating and/or releasing a sigh of relief right now. I'm honestly surprised I haven't seen any crabs yet lol. But maybe it's just because I'm "old" my tumblr's standards, but there's something undeniably sad about losing that part of your fandom life. Or at least, losing what led to/represents that life. Getting introduced to RWBY by a friend, binging it for the first time, pulling new people in, finding like-minded friends here on tumblr, analyzing it for thousands of words, tracing its history and watching how radically it has changed... that's gone now. Not actually because RWBY still exists, as do my friends, and there's nothing stopping me from writing as much fic/meta as I want, but it still feels like someone closed a door on that part of my life. That's not wholly a bad thing given what RT has been lately, but I do think it'll take more than one post for me to unpack it all.

[grandwretch]

only i must wander, chapter six

[on ao3] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

CW: TORTURE, MINOR CHARACTER DEATH, CHILD DEATH, MILD GORE, HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION, VOMIT, BLOOD, IMPLIED FORCED PREGNANCY

Steve did not slide back into consciousness as much as he was dragged. Every cell of him wanted to go back to sleep, but the electric pain of shitty shocks jolting his leg pulled him further from sweet oblivion with every passing second.

"Oh my god," he heard Robin say. He swallowed as her voice echoed through his head, pain sloshing around and forcing nausea to rise in his throat.  "Oh my god, you're alive-- Oh my god, Steve, thank God." 

"Robin?" he croaked, struggling to right himself while the van threw them both around. "Wha--" 

"Don't get up." Her cold hands were on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "Stay still, it'll stop the blood from leaking." 

The blood, he thought drearily. The blood, because he had been shot. The driver had shot him, and now they were in their van, and Robin-- Steve forced himself to open his eyes, even when the dim light through the window made him gag. He could barely make Robin out, even as she hovered over him-- He was propped on her legs, which explained why he could feel her knees digging into his back, but her shadow was thrown over his face. He had to squint just to make out more than her sillouhette. Her face was pale but unharmed, skin clear of injuries right down to her bare shoulders. 

Steve refused to look down any further.

"Are you naked?" Steve asked, his tongue thick in his mouth.

Robin sighed, a wry irony in her voice when she answered. "My shirt is currently occupied keeping your leg together, sorry. I didn't mean to shove my boobs in your face." 

He knew she was joking, but Steve wasn't sure how she meant it. Did she think this was what he had wanted from her? Because it wasn't. He could honestly say he had never thought about her boobs, and even if he had, he didn't think now would be the time to-- His headache increased with the speed of his own thoughts, and Steve forced himself to stop analyzing Robin's behavior. "... Do you want to borrow my shirt?" 

After a pause, Robin said, "I think there's bigger things to worry about. I don't think they're those kind of creeps." 

It didn't matter though, because Steve was  already struggling to get his arms throught the holes without sitting up. He didn't buy for a second that Robin was cool waiting it out in a bra, no matter the kind of danger they were in. Besides, she deserved her dignity, at the very least. "Just take the fucking shirt, Buckley." 

Huffing, Robin said, "Fine, at least let me help you, idiot." Her hands were steadier than his, and it didn't take long for her to slide the cloth out from under Steve's body. He closed his eyes while she put it on, just because it seemed like the polite thing to do, and listened to her soft grumbling. 

"Sorry," Steve said when he opened his eyes. The shirt was too big on her, the open neckline falling to her collarbone. It was also, unfortunately, stained in both his and the driver's blood. "I know being covered blood isn't how you wanted to spend the day." 

Robin's stare was unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure you didn't want to spend your day bleeding, so--" 

"You two shut the fuck back there!" the driver said from the front. 

Immediately, Steve and Robin both fell silent. Her hands fell back to his shoulders, an icy counterpoint to the burning pain in the rest of his body. He raised a shaking hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 

It was impossible to tell where they were, obviously-- Even if he Steve could see outside of the small back windows, he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, or in which direction they'd gone. Escaping now was more than meaningless; There was no way he'd get very far with his leg, and pissing James and Ritter off even more seemed like a bad call. Waiting it out and trying not to bleed to death seemed like his only option-- At least he finally had a chance to get some answers. Wherever they were taking them had to be a clue of some kind, and if they were lucky, it would even be the same place they had taken the kids. It was definitely a better lead than roaming around Hawkins, harassing random Wesen. 

He only wished Robin hadn't gotten involved. 

Getting shot wasn't exactly ideal, either. 

Steve closed his eyes and squeezed Robin's wrist, hoping that wherever they were going, they got there soon. His leg was starting to feel like he'd stuck in a freezer, so cold it burned. He didn't know much about medicine, but he doubted that was a good sign.

 No matter how many times Steve prayed for it, though, they just kept driving. They watched the sunset through the shadows on the walls, watching them distort until they faded completely away. It was until Steve began to drift off again, the fuel of adrenaline running out, that the darkness was replaced by artificial light. Even Robin hissed at the sting of it, and Steve curled away from it even as his body cramped in protest. 

Neither of them spoke as the van slowed to a stop, though they could hear Ritter and James muttering to each other up front. As time had passed, the silence had gently drawn them back to their most animalistic instincts-- They were still and quiet in the darkness like caged animals, flinching from the light, hissing at shadows. Dogs on the way to the pound. They only communication they needed was Robin's nails biting into the meat of Steve's shoulders. 

They both jumped as the back doors were thrown open. Steve didn't make it very far, his reflexes dulled by the haze of pain. By the time he had even forced himself to sit up, Robin's knee was digging itself into his neck as she scrambled to press herself to the front of the cabin. Steve could see nothing in the bright light, his eyes refusing to adjust with the extrahuman speed he'd only just grown used to.

"Welcome to Lafayette power plant, kiddos," a voice said. 

A man stood before them in a lab coat, two men in hazmat suits flanking him. Steve squinted, trying to remember the faces of Brenner and the host of other scientists that had followed in his wake. It definitely wasn't Brenner before him, unless he had gained several dozen pounds and lost a few inches along the way, but there had simply been too many in and out of Hawkins to know if he'd met this man before. 

The urge to bare his teeth swelled up in Steve, but he was busy taking in the guns in the lackeys' hands, polished black standing out against the yellow of their suits. They were bigger than Ritter's, and Steve had no interest in repeating a once in a lifetime experience. He just held himself very, very still.  

"I understand you must be very confused," the man continued, a genuinely sympathetic expression crossing his face. It left a bad taste in Steve's mouth. The man in front of him was a little older than Dr. Owens had been, and he had the air of someone's kindly grandfather. It had always unsettled Steve than the scientists who hung around Will were so genial, so kind to the other kids-- It seemed that every adult who smiled at a kid, these days, was more a danger to them than the ones that screamed and threw things. "I'm sorry that things got so out of control, but I promise you that everything will become clear very soon. Please, come with me." 

The man stepped back, gesturing to the floor-- Concrete, Steve noted, peering around the hazmat suits, they were in some kind of parking garage -- as if he expected them to clamber out without an explanation. 

"Who are you?" Robin asked, peeking around Steve.  

"Apologies for my lapse in manners," the scientist said. There was something vaguely wrong about his voice, a lilt that Steve couldn't place. It sounded refined, one of the languages that Steve's mother was always trying to learn two or three weeks at a time. "My name is Carter McCann, and I run this laboratory. I assure you both that you're in excellent hands." 

In saying so, he offered Robin a hand. When she hesitated, his face transformed into a kindly, wry smile. "I'll remind you, miss, that you don't have much of a choice." 

Steve's stomach sank as Robin took McCann's hand and gingerly crawled out of the back of the van.

McCann was right, though; They had very little choice in the matter. After Robin left the van, one of the hazmat suits unarmed himself to crawl in after Steve. Without a single word, they hauled him out of the van and into a waiting wheelchair. As kind as the gesture was, Steve knew it was one of two things: Either they didn't think he had the strength to fight back, or they were trying to remind him of that very same fact. Either way, they were right on that count, too. Steve would have prefered to walk, but he didn't have the energy for even that, at the moment. Especially not when Robin's shirt was the only thing keeping his thigh together. 

"Are we ready to go?" McCann chirped as Steve was settled into the chair, and then began walking away without an answer. Robin followed him, after hesitating and throwing a glance over her shoulder at Steve. Steve had genuinely no idea how she was holding it together; If it had been his first time dealing with all of this, he probably would have started screaming and throwing punches before the old guy had even introduced himself. 

Then again, Steve thought as one of the hazmats began pushing his chair to follow after McCann, she had spent the first fifteen years of her life knowing she was something akin to a fox demon, so perhaps it wasn't that odd after all. 

Their strange little group moved through the grime and shadow slowly, nothing but concrete and a few flickering lights overhead. The walls were solid and thick, with no indications of the outside world or even the door they'd come in through-- Only a single set of metal double doors at the edge of the light, starkly modern and shining against the gloom of the garage. 

"What is this place?" Robin said, as they approached the doors.

"As I said before, we're a power plant--" McCann began, but Steve interrupted.

"You don't have to lie to us," Steve said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Fucking adults, always assuming everyone around them was stupid enough to believe their bullshit. "I've been in the tunnels under Hawkins." 

"Ah, yes. I was told of your... previous knowledge, Mr. Harrington," McCann said. There was a toxic nonchalance to his voice, one that Steve was more than aware of. It was his mother's favorite tone, one that said if Steve wanted to get himself in trouble, she was happy to just sit there and watch him do it. Steve didn't know if this man scared or irritated him. As they came upon the door, he continued, "Well, if we're being completely candid, then this is nominally a replacement for the Hawkins facility. It shouldn't surprise you that it's not the only one of it's kind, but, well-- The government suddenly had money burning a hole in their pocket when they stopped having to fund Owens' justice brigade. More than that, they suddenly had a blind spot the size of the Midwest. Not exactly a good look." 

"So you're just doing the same shit Brenner did?" Steve asked, frowning. He had thought that they would at least be smart enough to not repeat their mistakes. Steve-- and most of their little family --knew that at the very least El, Kali, and a few of their other siblings were safe. But to the government, or Owens, at least, the entire thing had been a colossal waste of money. Not only had they lost every experiment, most of them dying before their powers could even be properly studied, a large portion of their workforce had died with them. Steve had known nothing as pitiful as morals could inspire the American military complex, but he thought they'd at least have a little respect for their own bottom line.

"Oh, I would say I'm doing much better than Brenner," McCann said. He gestured to the hazmat suit that had taken up position next to Robin, and they stepped forward to open the door. "If you're referring to the goal of his work, however, then yes-- We even have several of the, ah, surviving scientists on our payroll." 

The doors opened, white floors and hallways spilling out before them. It was a large, spacious room, larger than any power plant had a right to be-- Steve  could even see more of it in the back, where the large, open space broke off into branching hallways. Or maybe the room wasn't as big as it seemed, maybe it was just full. Because the scientists inside were so crammed in they were standing shoulder to shoulder, gathered around glass cubes. Cages, Steve thought, peering at the shadowy figures inside, like zoo exhibits. Something too dangerous for a cell or a fence. 

The hazmat suit pushed Steve forward, taking advantage of the space between two frazzled scientists. Robin and the others were close behind, but Steve couldn't look back; Through the shifting lights above, the shapes within the glass were finally starting to take shape. He didn't know how he had missed it before. There was only one thing that sickly grey, muscles still moving under rotting skin. Maybe it was the lack of aggression that had made his mind dismiss it-- It stayed in the corner of its cell, petals curled in over it's terrible, blooming maw. 

Steve didn't know what was more horrific-- Seeing a demogorgon under bright hospital lights, or seeing one sick.

"Jesus Christ, what is-- That's not a W--" Robin stuttered. 

"This is most of the work we've achieved here," McCann said. 

Steve felt his hands beginning to shake as he looked to the cell to his right. A little bigger than the last, it held a small pack of demodogs. They were nothing like he had imagined them in the dark. They still unsettled him, especially now that he could truly appreciate how human pieces of them looked, but it was hard to be terrified of literally anything sleeping in a pile. They didn't even bother to bare their teeth at scientists with their nose pressed to the glass. 

And then, on their right, were things that Steve had never even seen before. He wasn't sure if El and the rest had seen glimpses, but it was nothing like Steve had gone up against-- Democreature, Wesen, or otherwise. A few of them fluttered against the glass with emaciated, leathery wings. They, at least, seemed to still have energy to them. Their opposite was held in the largest cell, in the furthest corner, a creature so large and unmoving that Steve couldn't tell its head from its tail. 

"That's the worst thing I've ever seen," Robin said, voice shaking, and Steve had to agree.  

"Oh, that?" McCann hummed, surveying the large mass of grey flesh before dismissing it with a shrug. "Those are the weapons that are going to protect the future of America. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about. I'm sure Mr. Harrington will fill you in later." 

Steve ignored the searching glances that Robin was throwing at him. He could barely process what he was seeing; How was he supposed to offer her any comfort? This was proof, then, that the government knew much more about the Upside Down than El. Much more, in fact, than they had bother to even hint at to Hopper. They knew how to capture these creatures alive, knew how to keep them docile. Even worse, what were they going to do to the rest of the world when they figured out how to do more? 

"Let's go to my office," McCann suggested, when neither of his guests seemed inclined to say anymore. 

They moved through the large room even slower than they had the parking garage. Steve knew it was on purpose, some pathetic play of McCann's, but he wasn't sure what the man really got out of it. Robin didn't know enough to know the true power on display here, and Steve's rebellious spirit had been more than quelled by the sluggishly bleeding bullet wound in his thigh. There was no benefit to deliberately scaring the shit out of them. 

The lack of logic didn't make them go any faster. They moved at an ant's space across the room, between nearly every display case. Robin gawked in horror, and Steve kept his eyes on his shoes, stomach churning. He was suddenly grateful that the democreatures didn't have eyes; It seemed a blessing to him that they had no way to communicate please. 

The demodogs were the worst of it. Sure, Steve had taken a few out himself, but he hadn't wanted them to suffer. Besides, after seeing them run past him and Mike without attacking, and seeing Dustin's stupid pet actually let him go-- It was hard to see them as mindless monsters. Steve had kind of categorized them in his own mind the way he would a wolf, or some kind of big cat. He didn't want them around his kids, he definitely didn't want to have to fight another one, but he also didn't want to see one die slowly, experimented on until it eventually died.

They finally made it to one of the hallways, and Steve chanced a look up, only to find the walls themselves were half-glass. The windows peered into operating rooms, like the old-fashioned surgery theaters that they had learned about in school. It had been the only interesting part of biology, but Mr. Yarbrough had droned on and on about the indignity of it all, and how at some point they had valued knowledge over life. Steve could only see one thin arm, the sick spay of a ribcage, before he looked back down. 

If he ever got out of this, he would have to have a long talk with Dustin about not keeping anymore specimens for "science". Steve didn't think he had the stomach for it anymore. 

Finally getting to the office was a relief. Sure, Steve was fairly certain he was about to have the worst night of his life, here, but at least the grand tour was over. The office itself was blessedly simple-- It looked a lot like his dad's study at home, actually. Degrees and certificates on the wall, dusty, untouched books, and an overly comfy chair behind the desk. He was sure McCann was very comfortable here. It was probably soundproofed, so he didn't have to hear the screams. 

"Please, sit down," McCann said, gesturing to the small chair next to the door. The hazmat suits pushed Steve's wheelchair to sit beside it, so Robin obediently slid into it. "Thank you, boys, you may leave us." 

The hazmat suits filed dutifully out of the room, Robin and Steve watching them go in silence. What they had just seen had obviously shaken Robin just as badly as it had Steve, though he doubted it was for the same reasons. Strangely, McCann suddenly seemed as nervous as they both did. He paced the length of his office for a moment, lips pursed, before he finally sat down in his chair. All the affected genality had fled from his face, replaced with the grave stare of practiced most commonly by preachers and principals. It was the stare of someone who desperately wanted to be taken seriously, and Steve-- Steve wasn't sure he wanted to fight him on that, for once.

"Now, I'm sure you both have questions. Despite the standard my predecessors have set," McCann said, frowning. "I'm more than happy to answer a few of them for you. In return, I only ask that you're equally honest with me." 

It was probably a trick. Steve knew enough to know that with McCann's type, it was always a trick of some kind. Steve also knew, however, that he would never be smart enough to fight McCann at his own game. If he was really aiming for a battle of wits, though, maybe just telling the truth would be enough to throw the guy off, though.  Steve didn't think he had anything left to lose, at this point. "We know about the kids, if that's what you're curious about. More than fifty in the last year," Steve said, shaking his head. "Did you really think no one would pick up the trail?" 

If Steve's words had offered any provocation at all, McCann certainly didn't respond to it. He only sighed, and recited as if he had said it a million times,"I can assure you, Mr. Harrington, that everything we do here is for the greater--" 

"We're not the only ones, and there will be others very soon," Robin said, quickly. Steve tried not to wince. He'd never been on this side of things before-- They didn't really let him in on the science and talking parts of their little adventures --but he'd learned a little about negotiation growing up. Even if you were threatening someone, and in business you almost always were, you didn't start with that. Still, he let her speak; Maybe a little agression would scare someone as soft as McCann. "Someone will break the story, even if we never come back." 

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. We have agents looking for Erica Sinclair and your other friends-- I'm assuming the younger one was Dustin Henderson?" McCann asked, raising an eyebrow at Steve. "We also have eyes on everyone involved in all that nonsense last year. I can assure you, nothing about this will be hitting the newstands anytime soon." 

Steve didn't buy that for a moment. Sure, he didn't doubt that they knew Dustin's name, maybe even had his address in a file somewhere, but there was no way they had eyes on all five of the kids who weren't with Eddie. They didn't even know that El was alive, and he was pretty sure that Hopper had kept the cabin in someone else's name-- 

"So tell me, Steven," McCann said, with a sickly smile, "how is it possible that my boys found three Wesen in the Sinclair's yard, when all the reports from Brenner's unit have assured me that their experiments were the only Wesen in Hawkins?" 

"Well that's a stupid question," Steve said before his brain could remind him it was a bad idea. Still, it was a lot like asking why there were people who liked baseball in every town without the government knowkng about it; There wasn't exactly a box to check on the census. It seemed ridiculous that they knew enough about the Upside Down to have monsters locked up like zoo animals, but knew even less than Steve had a few months ago. "You know from the other kids you've stolen that they're not that uncommon. Besides, Hawkins a much bigger place than it looks. Lots of people like to keep to themselves, and they're not exactly the kind of people the government would have eyes on." 

"And you--" McCann began, but that hadn't been the deal. 

"No, I have my own questions, remember? What makes you think you can control the demogorgons?" Steve leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, even as his entire body screamed in protest. "They're not experiments, they're not Wesen, they're monsters. Why not just keep snatching kids off the street or experimenting on pregnant mothers? Why the extra risk?" 

Steve already had some idea-- Like he'd already told them, continuing Brenner's work was a stupid choice. Uncle Sam had probably gotten tired of paying through the nose for failed experiment after failed experiment. The pensions and insurance payments to those grieving families couldn't be cheap, either, and adding that to the hush money they kept funneling the Byers' to keep their mouth shut about the staged death... Well. Them pivoting wasn't the strange part. What struck Steve was the idea of pivoting to something even riskier; El and the other kids had only been controlled for so long because they were children, and children who didn't have anyone else to look up to. They were controlled the same way all abused kids were, no matter how powerful they were. 

But these scientists weren't Dustin Henderson. There was no way they were coddling and hand feeding these monsters from infancy, so there would be no good feelings to stop them from being torn to shreds when the demodog stage came. So what was the payoff? What made this risk, with stakes unimaginably high, a better bet than the stupidity they'd already buried themselves in? 

McCann sighed, rubbing a hand over his over his tired eyes. "You have no idea what you're asking me to admit, kid." He looked at Steve, shrugging."Tell me on thing, kid. What makes you think they're not already under my control?" 

Then Steve made a series of very deliberate mistakes. It wasn't anger that inspiredthem; The adrenaline fueled rage of the woge didn't settle over him, nor the flushed embarassment that had always made him act stupid as a kid. Instead, it was simply an acknowledgement in the back of his head, a tiny logical voice that spoke of all the wonderful things chaos would bring. It almost always said the same thing, and though it was usually aimed at his father, Steve couldn't deny that it fit McCann as well. 

This is a bad man, the voice always said, and he's going to hurt you no matter what you say or do. You might as well have a little fun first. 

Steve forced a woge. He'd never done it before, didn't like the idea of what it did to his Wesen friends or what it might do to the humans. It was usually a gut reaction, an unfortunate reflex, but now he pushed. It felt a little like overextending his shoulder, a little like thinking a little too long about why math worked, a little like holding back tears. And then he blinked, and Steve knew his eyes were a solid, smoky black. 

"You know anything about Grimms, McCann?" Steve said, his lips curling in human approximation of a Blutbad's snarl. "I know about monsters. It's kinda the whole gig." 

McCann, to his credit, didn't flinch. Steve had half a mind to be disappointed, but he supposed it made sense-- A teen with black eyes was hardly anything when you went to work everyday with a demogorgon or five waiting for you. Instead, the old man studied him for a long, tense minute before smiling.

"I have to admit, Mr. Harrington, it's very fortunate for us that you've fallen in our lap like this," McCann said. The stress had left his face, leaving him looking years younger. Even his wrinkles looked lighter. 

"That's a weird way to say that you shot him," Robin said. It was the first time she'd spoken since they'd come in, and Steve was relieved that it was as snarky and stupid as ever. Maybe she wouldn't be entirely traumatized by the time Hopper and the calvary showed up. 

McCann, of course, ignored her. "Every Wesen we've ever talked to has had things to say about the Grimms," he said. "It's the kind of thing they bring up, when they start talking about the perfect weapons." 

Ugh. 'Serial killer' had been bad enough, but being referred to as a weapon left a new kind of distate in Steve's mouth. Maybe he wasn't human, anymore, but he wasn't a knife in someone's hand, either. "I'd go with a Siegbarste, myself," he said, thinking back to Otis' journal. "Grimms aren't known for taking direction well."  

"Until today I had no proof that Grimms weren't extinct," McCann said, with a shrug. "There was even a theory, in some of the higher offices, that you were merely myth amongst the Wesen. The savage do have a tendency to deify violence, after all. And yet, here you are."

"I'm here because I have a job to do. One that includes making sure that every Wesen kid in Hawkins goes home safe at night. This is Wesen law," Steve stressed. He still hadn't gotten the entire scoop on the Wesen Royals from Robin-- Sue him, they'd been a little busy --other than the fact that they were human for some unfathomable reason. The way Otis and even his parents had written about them, however, said that they weren't to be fucked with. Which was saying something, really, because his dad never admitted to bowing to any man. Not even Reagan. Hell, there were probably Gods that Bradley Harrington would call a sissy. 

"He's right," Robin said immediately, her usual cadence increased until she could barely be understood. "I'm not sure how much about this you guys know-- or how much they know about you guys -- but we do have our own governing body, and one that has startlingly powerful jurisdiction in the Midwest, and--" 

Alright, she was losing the plot a little bit. "You're releasing demogorgons--" 

"Demogorgons?" McCann repeated, baffled. 

Steve barreled on. "--in my territory, and kidnapping children under my care, and I have the legal right to at least know why I wasn't contacted about this." 

"The royals don't really care about the day to day lives of Wesen, but they take hunting territory disputes very seriously," Robin said. Steve and McCann turned to look at her as one. It was the first Steve was hearing about this, but it explained why his parents never had a problem keeping Hawkins in check. It call into question why the hell they kept leaving, though. 

He didn't like the way McCann's eyes were twinkling with ideas, either.

"You know, I honestly thought you government guys were smarter than this," Steve snapped. "All these experiments to make the perfect weapon, and all they ever seem to do is kill your own guys. Maybe some citizens from time to time, but no one useful. How the hell does this project stay funded?" 

"Do you know where the creatures--" McCann paused. "Demogorgons, you called them? Do you know where the demogorgons come from, Harrington?" 

"... We call it the Upside Down," Steve said, frowning. 

"You're talking about the pocket dimension experiment Eleven created?" Steve tried not to flinch as McCann said her name, tried not to look at Robin at all. He trusted her, completely, but Eleven's secrets weren't his to tell. It seemed cruel that all of them were about to be laid out by this asshole, and Steve couldn't even begin to stop it without blowing El's cover. "I can see why you would assume so, but a blighted universe inhospitable to all other forms of life is very unlikely to form multiple species of sentient creatures within less than a decade of existence. Yes, yes, they travel through the pocket dimension-- Some of the hardier species have set up permanent residence. But how did they get there?" McCann seemed excited to share the information, like a teacher who enjoyed their job just a little too much-- As if he had been waiting all this time to have a literally captive audience, one who couldn't roll their eyes or request a transfer afterward. The more Steve got pulled into this shit, the more he realised that spy movies weren't stupid or lazy for the little cliches they always pulled. Most shit was explosive, there was always a big, red button and, most importantly, evil people loved to explain themselves. With big words no one else in the room understood, preferably. 

"I'm assuming you're going to tell me," Steve muttered.

"The specimens in this facility have never been anywhere but here. Certainly not in a contaminated hellscape where I have no control over their enviroment," McCann sniffed. As if Steve, who had only passed senior physics because Dustin had tutored him on how to calculate acceleration three weekends in a row, had the qualifications to judge his method. "Enviromental variables are very important in this kind of work, you know--" 

"You're telling me you created the monsters?"Steve said. "Why? Who the fuck would do that?" 

"You know why, Steven." 

Fucking money, then. Or power, which roughly translated to the same thing. It didn't matter whether McCann meant it personally or patriotically-- Either way, it boiled down to the fact that the US needed weapons, and McCann and Brenner and a dozen other assholes were willing to give it to them. 

The idea that someone had created the demogorgons was almost too much for Steve to truly process, but not because the government was too principled  to try. No, Hopper had more than filled him and Nancy in on MK Ultra, and what had been done to people in it. Not just unborn children like El, but others, too-- College students and prisoners and elementary schoolers and soldiers and just about anyone else they could get their hands on. Hopper had seen some shit in Vietnam, had heard even crueler shit about Korea from his buddies, and there was even more gossip waiting at the VA when he made it back stateside. Murray had told Hop even worse things, worse even than what Steve could barely pry out of Hop after a few beers. Eventually Steve had given up, convinced that he really didn't want to know. 

It was the kind of thing Steve would have scoffed at before, dismissed as easily as horror stories of ghosts or angels. He'd seen much weirder than a few soldiers tripped out on LSD now, though, and it was hard to deny a conspiracy when you were holding one's hand during grace every Monday night. 

Steve took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Okay, then. Okay. Fucking how?" 

"Now that is a good question," McCann said, a condescending smile spreading across his face. "Tell me, are you aware how your friend experiment Eleven came to be?" 

Steve frowned. "You put hexenbiest DNA into human babies." 

"No," McCann said, shaking his head. "No, that was quite beyond Brenner's capabilities, at first. They put hexenbiest DNA into a mellifer baby. You see, when the US government started funding research into the wesen after the first world war, they realised very quickly that interbreeding rarely worked amongst them."

"In natural interspecies relationships, the children always presented as one species or another. In very rare cases, children were born with all three sets of DNA-- human, and both sets of wesen --but those children tended to die before adolescence. Project Indigo was intended to make a perfect human weapon: blending two or more sets of wesen DNA into one. They started with hexenbiest and zauberbiest because it was the closest to human DNA, and therefore the easiest to work with." 

An ache was begininng to set in behind Steve's eyes, one that went much deeper than the exhaustion and dehydration he'd already been dealing with. It felt like being shrouded in acidic fog, the world beyond just a step further to the left then it was supposed to be. The words McCann kept throwing at him made sense individually, but when strung together mattered very little to Steve-- It didn't matter one way or another how they had experimented on El, except when he had to hold her hand after the nightmares. She was still El. Finding out that they had been slightly wrong about what kind of wesen they used to create her was much less shocking than finding out what a wesen was in the first place. 

Of course, as almost always was the case, the confusion held a hot core of anger within. Steve loved that small kernel of flame. He stoked it, let it eat up all the rest. 

"What the hell does that have to do with demogorgons?" Steve asked, glowering.

"We found it's much the same when there are children born from a human and wesen--" McCann continued, uncaring, "Except that the children are almost always human, in that case. You can imagine what the next set of experiments were." 

"Jesus Christ," Robin breathed. She sounded horrified, knowing, and Steve's gaze snapped towards her. She didn't look at him, though, her wide eyes locked on McCann. "That's what you've been doing with the kids." 

Steve watched the blood drain from her face, leaving her shaken and pale. "What? What is he talking about?"

"The process isn't quiet perfected yet, as Dr. Brenner's notes were quiet... erratic, towards the end, there, but we're working on it. Soon--"

McCann continued prattling on, talking about his hopes for a future army, and Steve glared at the floor. What was he missing? He was unsure how this had anything to do with the demogorgons, so forget that, just for the moment. Focus on the children. McCann had been taking equal amounts of wesen and human children for months, now-- Maybe years. And not pregnant teens, like El's mother, or even babies. That was the main issue that Steve kept coming up against, really; El and Dustin had explained the DNA thing to him so many times that Steve was pretty sure that even he understood it. 

It shouldn't have worked, whatever McCann was talking about. It made sense, with El-- They had melded Mellifer and Hexenbiest DNA into one hybrid, but they had left the human DNA alone. Steve hadn't paid a lot of attention in biology, but he understood, roughly, why it had worked. She was still a Wesen, still had the 96 strands of human DNA and the extra however many from being Wesen. But these kids... They weren't fetuses, still being built from the ground up. Changing their DNA would be rough on anyone, and even worse, Steve wasn't sure it could even be done to the humans. They just didn't have enough space. 

Where was all that extra information even supposed to go? Were they just shoving extra chromosomes in there somewhere? Or, even worse, were they getting rid of the human parts in order to make more room for the Wesen? What happened, if someone's human eye genes were replaced with the code for Wesen teeth? What happened if you had the information for Wesen teeth and human teeth in the same strand? What got left out? What happened to their bodies as they mutated, as they went from normal, healthy little kids, and their bodies started changing? In a perfect world, Steve would like to imagine that things went well. That it had hurt, maybe, but they came out alright in the end. That playing God had gone fine, actually, and now he just had to make sure they couldn't be used as weapons. 

But the cynical parts of Steve were sure that whatever had happened, it had created something more monstrous than nature ever could. Something sick and dying, even if it was stronger than the some of its parts. Something that he would never be able to save, no matter how hard he tried. 

The pieces of the puzzle clicked together a little slower than he would have liked, but by the time Steve had pulled another shaking breath into his lungs, he knew the truth. He'd already seen the kids. They'd been right in front of him as McCann had marched them in-- The sick creatures in the cages, the missing kids-- It wasn't two stupid decisions, two equally repugnant attempts to further the American empire. It was one. 

The demogorgons were humans. Maybe the dogs, too, or the others, though his stomach turned to think of how they had managed to create a monster that small. Had they always been human? Had Steve been driving his bat into the bones and muscle of a human, too twisted and sick to reason? God, did they even have vocal chords anymore? Would they have been able to tell him if they were still in there somewhere? How many people had Steve killed? 

How many people had these government fuckers killed, actually? How far back did this go? How long had they been taking people from Hawkins? Because Will wasn't the first or the last kid to disappear that year in Indiana, although he was one of the few who had come back. Had even that first one been some sick child? How many people 'died' in Hawkins every year? How many democreatures had they been able to make? How many of the people he had grown up with, had seen every day, were turned into weapons? 

And they had never found Barb's body. 

Steve fought the bile rising in the back of his throat to choke out, "Barb Holland?" 

Next to him, Robin inhaled a sob. 

"That is not a name I am familiar with, however..." McCann shrugged. "It's been a long few years, Steven. It's impossible to remember every name."

It was the worst thing he could have said. It would have destroyed Steve to have it confirmed, but at least he would have known. At least they would have finally found answers, real answers not from an echo of a dream in an alternate reality-- He would vomit and he would cry and he would hold Nancy's hand when he told her, but they would have something. Some kind of closure. But there was nothing. No ending, no relief, just the cold apathy of concrete and shrug. They might have killed Nancy's best friend, might have ruined Steve's life, might have turned a sweet, brilliant girl into a mindless weapon, and McCann couldn't even be bothered to remember a fucking name. 

Helplessness swallowed Steve. It was worse than what had captured him this morning; That had been paired with panic and anger, at both himself and the men he was hunting. That was gone now, because what had it gotten him? The grief was all he could feel. Steve slumped in his chair, panting as he tried to breathe again, but the air was getting too thick. Thick enough that it clung to his skin and burned his eyes, sticky in a way he couldn't shrug off. 

Though they had no way of knowing, the sky above the power plant began to darken. Dark clouds sprung from nothing, swirling closely enough to block out the setting sun. 

Even if there had been windows, Steve probably wouldn't have noticed. He didn't even notice that Robin had woged until she leapt for him. Her claws dug into his arm as she shook him, begging him to stop. Stop what? Steve blinked at her, mind churning wearily. Nothing made sense anymore. Barb was dead, and it hadn't been a mistake that had caused it, or even mindless violence. The Hollands had to bury an empty casket because the man in front of him had helped Brenner spirit her away, helped him mutilate her. 

Robin was crying, and still begging, but Steve didn't know how to make it stop. 

He heard the roar of demogorgon from the main lobby, the voices of frightened men, the chattering of creatures he didn't have names for. Beyond them, there was crying. Somewhere in this building, there were children crying-- Human children, maybe, or Wesen kids still cognizant enough to be themselves. 

Steve looked up, black eyes thick with smoke. "I'm going to fucking kill you," he promised McCann.

Without breaking eye contact, McCann leaned over and spoke into the intercom built into the side of his desk. "Get Mr. Harrington into the specimen prep room, and make sure he's ready for Dr. Curtis. I need to have a talk with this young lady alone." 

"No!" Despite himself, Steve stood-- His legs shook, his heart pounded, but he took two stumbling steps towards McCann's desk anyway. He didn't make it very far before the hazmat suits came back through the door, one of them grabbing Robin by the shoulders. The other approached Steve slowly, hands extended, like they were approaching a frightened dog. "No, fuck you-- Robin!" 

Whatever strength Steve had gained in the van, he'd wasted it going after McCann. It only took one guy to pull him out of the office, and the suit had barely had to try. All it had taken was one gentle hand on his stomach, pushing insistently, and he was back in the chair. They wheeled him away, one hand clamped on his shoulder to keep him in his place. They didn't even bother acknowledging Steve's struggle to wriggle out of his grasp. 

When Steve's lungs burned too keenly to keep going, he collapsed back against the chair. His chest heaved, sweat beading at his hairline and the back of his neck. He hadn't felt this tired in months, and even his concussions had been minor echoes. Parts of him were starting to shut down, Steve realized, trying to prioritize the more important functions-- The parts of him that were focused on keeping itself alive. He didn't know much about wound care, didn't know much about guns at all, but something in Steve told him that if he hadn't been a Grimm, his body wouldn't be handling this so well. 

"Where are you taking me?" Steve gasped between heaves. The suit didn't bother answering. 

He was pushed through a maze of solid white hallways, windows into empty operating rooms and laboratories lining the way. Nothing was labeled, there were no signs-- Steve had to blearily wonder if a photographic memory was part of the evil scientist recruitment package, or if the reason they kept fucking up was because no one knew where everything was. He thought about asking the hazmat guy, but he didn't really think they'd answer. 

Just as the walls and the windows and the empty grey doorways were starting to blur together, the wheelchair took a hard left turn. A tall metal roller door, built into the wall, began raising as they moved forward. The flimsy metal rattled as it rose, revealing a door that seemed a few years older than the rest of the building. It was just as clean, but in a way that Steve could tell someone put an offer into keeping it that way. The labs and office had seemed like they had sprung up over night, completely untouched, but here, the tile was yellowing and chipped in places. All the equipment, from the hospital beds in the corner to the microscope on the table looked used, if well-maintained. The ceiling-- Steve's head spun when he looked up, but he was pretty sure the ceiling was stained. Or rusted, maybe. If Steve was really lucky, that would be rust. 

A woman stuck her head out of  a small, orange door in the far corner. She didn't look like an evil scientist. For one, Steve was pretty sure that most of the evil scientist community were male. Was that sexist? Probably, but he didn't know if it was sexist in the way that assuming women were bad at sports was, or if it was like when women had to become nurses instead of doctors. He didn't know if he had the brain power to figure that out right now; He would have ask Robin about it, later. If they both survived. 

Steve thought that maybe the blood loss was starting to get to him. 

Anyway, the point was, the woman didn't look much like a scientist at all. Sure, she had on all the same gear McCann did, but surely someone this short couldn't be evil. Surely evil people didn't have soft, matronly curves and the same haircut as Mrs. Henderson. Surely someone who looked like she should be at home making cookies for her grandchildren wouldn't be experimenting on someone else's children. 

Wait. Was that sexism again? 

"What have you got for us today?" she asked. She hadn't bothered to come out of the door entirely, as if she wasn't sure if Steve was worth her full attention yet. 

"Dr. McCann has a specimen for you. Grimm," the suit said, with none of the warmth geniality the woman had offered. "He wants you to the usual stitch and run." 

"A Grimm?" And, alright, maybe the way her grin widened as she finally slipped out the door pinged Steve's evil radar a little. She was just showing a little too much teeth, you know? Her bright eyes narrowed on Steve as she stepped forward, reminding him a little of Nancy-- On practiced instinct, Steve froze. It had never been the right move with Nance, but this woman didn't have to know that. "He's a little banged up, don't you think?" 

"He came in like this," the suit said, sounding bored. Steve felt a hysterical moment of sympathy for the person inside. It must be awful being surrounded by mad scientists all day when you don't even have a passion for human experimentation. "Besides, he's lived for two hours like this, now. If he was gonna die, he'd have already done it." 

"I don't think that's true," Steve offered, because. Well. He didn't. 

The woman hummed under her breath. "I did read that Grimm have increased durability, but I didn't think it applied to wounds already sustained..." 

"Yeah, me too," Steve slurred. "Didn't read anything about increased blood in my body, though, so if I'm going to die, I'd really rather get it over with." 

A small huff came out of the suit, and they pushed Steve foward gently towards the woman. "Look, I'm going back to Dr. McCann. Do whatever you want with the Grimm. It's not my ass on the line if he croaks." 

"Bye," Steve said as the suit walked away, his fingers wiggling uselessly on the wheelchair arm. 

The woman looked down at him, a warm, motherly smile on her face. "Well, Mr. Grimm, I'm very pleased to meet you. My name is Dr. Curtis, and I'm going to be making sure you're all better. And then we get to figure out what makes you tick!" 

"Yay," Steve mumbled, closing his eyes. For two years, he'd been able to dodge crazy scientist duty. Two fucking years. He'd never known how good he had it. 

Dr. Curtis called a few people out of the back, opening the yellow door she'd appeared through briefly. Two men followed her out of the book room, both younger than her. They didn't fit the evil scientist look, either-- They were both younger than any of the others Steve had seen, and they looked more like the nerds even Steve hadn't had much luck in defending than villains. Then again, he guessed that was a pretty good reason to become a villain, if he was ranking them. A better reason than 'the president asked me to,' at the very least. 

The men picked Steve up and laid him on one of the nearby beds, the same wordless manhandling the suits had employed all night. It had been irritating, earlier, but now it was something of a relief to be treated like an object. Steve didn't think he'd be able to find the words to answer a question properly right now, anyway. 

"It looks like the bullet is still in his leg," Dr. Curtis said, sliding on a pair of blue gloves. "We'll have to take that out first." 

"Is that gonna hurt?" Steve asked, staring up at the ceiling and those fucking brown stains again. 

"Almost definitely," she answered. 

"Oh, good," Steve said, and fainted. 

His dreams were wild and discordant. None of it made any sense, not even in messed up dream logic, which always made sense, a little-- If only because it was just his own brain, reflected back on itself. This dream was confusing, and a little frightening, because he was barely even in it. There was no Steve in the haze of his mind, nothing to see or touch or hear with. It was all a blurry haze of red stains and black smoke, ocassionally interrupted with such sharp pain that Steve was sure he was about to wake up, only for the smoke to envelop him once again. 

At one point, he thought he caught a glimpse of something real from the corner of his eye. Except it wasn't his eye, really, because he wasn't there. It was like watching a video, or something, if the TV was your entire brain. No part of him existed outside of that vision, until that little flicker of something, something whole and real and living. He only caught the edge of a breath, and he wondered if they were coming to save him, but then the red swallowed them up so quickly that Steve only caught the shadow of their form, and--

Steve woke up, rolled over, and vomited off the side of the bed. 

"Well, Mr. Harrington, I would be disappointed at the mess, but honestly I'm just impressed you're with us at all." 

He looked up, squinting through teary eyes to find Dr. Curtis hovering near the end of his bed. She looked more like the evil professional Steve had expected now; She had on a new, starched labcoat and in her hand she held a clipboard and pen. 

"I was supposed to die," Steve croaked. He'd meant it as a question, but he supposed it only made sense that it hadn't come out as one-- He'd known the answer already. 

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," Dr. Curtis said, stepping around to the vomit-less side of the bed. With gentle hands, she arranged Steve to lay back down, smoothing the thin sheets back over his chest. "Your healing abilities stopped the bleeding once we got the bullet out and stitched you up. We fixed up where your friend got her claws into you, too. How are you feeling?" 

"Better," Steve said. He took a deep breath, and surprised himself when it didn't hurt. It was only after it was over that he could pinpoint the ways his body had been failing him: His chest didn't hurt, now, and his heart rate was back to normal. He could focus on things more easily, and his brain wasn't trying to slide away from him with every thought. He was still in pain, but it didn't reach him the way it should have. It was more of a presence than a feeling, like something had taken up residence in his body but wasn't making too much noise. 

The pressure was familiar, half the days he had even been able to make it out of bed after Billy had been because the pain had finally receded into this gentle, insistent presense. It was the only reason he had been able to help Dustin out in getting to the Snow Ball, the only reason it wasn't impossible to get himself to those doctor visits. Steve was beginning to think his Grimm durability had been forcing him to survive things that should have killed him longer than he had known. 

"Well, I am going to have to ask more in-depth questions than that, but... That can wait until later. Do you have any other wounds?" Dr. Curtis asked. Steve threw her a brief, incredulous look. He hadn't had to peek under the sheets to know he was naked under there. Surely, if he'd had anything else he would have known about it. Dr. Curtis huffed. "Look, kid, we're only asking because the next few minutes are going to be very hard, and we need to know if you have anymore injuries. Otherwise, this procedure could kill you." 

Procedure, Steve thought numbly, whatever the fuck that meant. "Aren't you just going to kill me anyway, when all this is over?" He couldn't imagine them letting him out of this place alive, not after McCann had basically signed their death warrants by telling them almost everything they knew. It would be even stupider to let him stay-- A fully healed, fully grown Grimm with nothing left to lose? He'd take out at least twenty of them before they took him down again, if he could get his hands on a weapon. The scientists didn't carry guns, that he could tell, and security inside the labs seemed light. He wasn't planning on it, but if they gave him long enough to heal his leg, then he could do some serious damage to the US government's budget.

Dr. Curtis surprised him, though. "Don't be silly," she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Non-human specimens are much too rare to simply throw away like that. Especially ones with DNA as close to a human's as yours." 

They were going to use him on the next round of babies, then. He guessed that was worth the risk, considering they had lost the entire last batch. They had used hexenbiest DNA on El, but now they had something closer to human DNA, something they could force into a Wesen without much trouble. Maybe even a human, if they tried long enough. He thought about it, a dozen kids with his eyes, being tortured every day in the name of the American dream. 

Steve took a deep breath. He would have to force them to kill him before then. He wasn't sure how this DNA transfer shit worked, on a mechanical level, but he knew it was going to be a hell of a lot harder if he was dead. 

They'd hooked him up to machines while he'd slept. He could feel the sticky pads of an EKG on his chest, heard the gentle beep of a heart monitor on the other side of Dr. Curtis. Steve watched her for a moment, as she frowned at something on the screen and then noted it down on her clipboard. He still didn't get it. There was no maniacal gleam in her eye. He didn't even believe she was in it for the money, really. When she looked at him, or his vitals, Steve genuinely believed she cared-- Not for him, he wasn't that stupid, but for her research. She was passionate about what she was doing here, but he had no idea why someone who cared so much about science would be working for these people. Brenner and McCann had been some of the smartest people he'd ever even heard of, but they cared about as much about science as Steve did. Even Owens hadn't given a shit, towards the end. Brenner and McCann both wanted to make the perfect weapon, wanted the praise and acknowledgement that came along with it. Owens had cared most about helping people, if Steve hadn't been reading him wrong. 

So what was Curtis's plan? What was she doing here? Surely this couldn't be the best place to learn about Wesen. There had to be more out there than this. 

"You know," Steve said, his voice rasping. "You don't have to do this. You got options." Not that Steve knew what they were. Robin seemed to know more about the whole royal thing, though, and her dad would definitely know about any need for a scientist in the Wesen community. 

Dr. Curtis looked down at him with an arched eyebrow."Well, you seem more lucid than most of the specimens they bring me. Certainly more civilized." She lowered her clipboard and leaned against the side of his bed. "Let me walk you through what's about to happen to you." 

Sighing, Steve let his head slump against the pillows, staring once again at the blood stained ceiling. "I'm good, thanks." 

"Oh, come on. It's been so long since I've had a conscious audience. The younger subjects don't know what's going on, and we had to sedate the last one your age." Steve thought of that jagerbar, smiling out from his football photo, and clenched his jaw. "I'm afraid we're going to start with a bit of a doozy for you. We've found that your kind are more inclined to cooperation if we get the rougher tests out of the way first."

"My kind," Steve repeated, dully. How many of the kids they'd been chasing had been Wesen? Twenty? Twenty-five? How many kids had been in this bed, staring up at this ceiling, and had to live through whatever this woman had coming for them? Maybe she didn't have options, Steve decided. Maybe the only option she had left was that when he made his suicide run, her throat would be the first he tore out. "I'm sure I've had worse." 

Dr. Curtis scoffed. "If you say so. Alright, this first test is going to establish the baseline of a Grimm's metabolism. I suggest deep breaths." 

She continued to explain as her assistants filed out of the backroom. Steve didn't bother listening; He didn't think he wanted to know. He didn't want the words for it. Answers were never the thing that drove him, they just kept him up at night. Instead, Steve watched the assistants closely. They were both the nerdy guys he had seen before, with a weak shield of solemnity on their faces. He wondered if they were new here, or if they had done this before. He wondered what the turnaround was on a place like this. He hoped the jagerbar had killed a few on the way out. He hoped the democreatures had killed more. 

While Steve plotted the death of scientists he'd never met, the assistants strapped his arms and legs down. He didn't fight it. Whatever small amount of energy the healing had afforded him now wouldn't even get him out of the hallway-- He had to bide his time, if he wanted to get to McCann before they killed him. Steve needed to chop the head off the snake before Hopper and the others showed up. He wasn't going to die for anything less than that. 

The assistants began to set up IVs on either side of him, clear unmarked bags giving no sign of what they were about to pump into his body. He watched them unravel the tubing, prep the needles. He closed his eyes. 

"We're puttinng amphetamines in the left," Dr. Curtis said. Steve didn't know exactly what that was, medically, but he knew his party drugs. Tommy had gotten his hands on it one time and felt like the king of the roost for the next week and a half. "And barbiturates on the left. Are you familiar with the process of speedballing, Mr. Harrington?" 

Steve swallowed, and the steady beep of the monitor increased in tempo. "If you're going to give me heroin, I'm going to claw my own throat out." 

"Don't be so dramatic," Dr. Curtis said with a sigh. She sounded disappointed that Steve had decided not to play along. "Nothing like that. We decided on a different combination. Amphetamines instead of methamphetamines, barbiturates instead of opioids. The theory is still the same, however. A stimulate and a depressive, joined in unholy union." 

The assistant, carefully, slid one of the IV needles under Steve's skin. He didn't make eye contact. Maybe he had heard rumors about what a Grimm's gaze could do. Or maybe he was just a fucking coward. "And what does this have to do with your tests?" 

"Well, you see, in smaller doses these two medicines are actually used to treat a number of mental illnesses. They can be lethal, however, if given too much. Given what you've just been through, I've seen the limits of your durability when it comes to your body. With this test, I'll be able to check the limits on the durability of your brain." 

Dr. Curtis looked a little too proud of herself for coming up with this one, and Steve had never much cared for a smug doctor. "You could get that information from Dr. Owen's files for free," he informed her, just to watch the smirk drop. "He literally had pictures of my brain two months before I even knew what a Grimm was. You would have known that, probably, if you weren't working for the guy who killed him." 

"Well," Dr. Curtis said, sniffing. "No matter. We can have another scan done when you wake up from this." She looked at the assistant to Steve's left, who had just finished setting up the second IV. "You can put him down, now." 

It only took moments for exhaustion to overtake him. It probably didn't take much to knock him out, considering he almost died today, but Steve fought it with everything he was. Even as his muscles betrayed him, each one of them relaxing then going limp one by one, Steve tried to pull against the restraints. He needed to stay awake. He couldn't go under again. He needed-- 

Dr. Curtis murmured something to the assistant by her side, and Steve was the most awake he had ever been. Eyes flying open, every muscle in his body jerked to sudden, desperate attention. He thrashed against the bed as his limbs tensed uncontrollably, heart thundering in his chest. A growl rose in his throat, and as Steve struggled to calm his breathing, he could feel that familiar rage flood his system. It was like the woge had been set aflame, the instinct to kill and fight and maim burning in his chest like never before. 

He wanted to kill Dr. Curtis so badly it hurt. Every moment she was not a dead thing at his feet, every moment he could not taste her blood, warm and metallic, on his tongue, was a knife in his ribs. Steve struggled against the leather straps, snapping his teeth at the assistants' hands as they rushed to keep him restrained--

And he was lax again, falling into the deep well of exhaustion in the back of his brain. 

Steve didn't know how long he continued like that. Eventually, he could not stay awake during the lows, his body so exhausted from the highs that he had nothing left to fight with. Every few minutes, he would sleep. Every few minutes, his rage would wake him, fury tearing through his body as he tried to kill the humans watching him. When he couldn't reach them, he would claw at himself, panic rising, until they put him back to sleep again. 

Eventually, they gave him too much. It was hardly a surprise. With every new dose, Steve slept harder and came back fiercer, a roar in the back of his throat before his eyes even opened. No one was shocked when the leather strap finally snapped as he seized. Dr. Curtis didn't even blink when he leapt on the first assistant, or when Steve went for the man's jugular with his teeth. She just pulled the stun gun out of her pocket, aimed, and shot. 

Steve liked to think she was at least a little surprised when the first shot didn't take him down. Or the second, or the third. He'd had Dr. Curtis pinned to the wall before the second assistant, who Steve had... honestly forgotten about, in the haze of everything, jammed a needle into his neck. 

He woke up on a new bed, with new straps on his arms and legs, like nothing had ever happened. Steve honestly thought it might have been a dream before he saw the blossoming bruises on Dr. Curtis's neck. 

"Sorry about that," Steve said. His chest was heaving. Every breath made him feel vaguely nauseous, like his chest was too small and he didn't to vomit until his stomach could make enough room to stash his heart for a moment. "But let's be honest, you kinda deserved it." 

Dr. Curtis frowned down at him, then said. "I hope this will be the ending you deserve, Mr. Harrington." 

Oh, good, Steve thought, they're finally going to let me die. And then the IVs were clicked back on, and Steve felt-- 

Alive. 

He felt alive, in the most irritating, excruciating way possible. Every nerve and cell in his body was awake at once, sending signals to his brain in a heady, dizzy rush. Steve was happy, Steve was beautiful, and in the process he was setting himself on fire. It felt amazing, and it felt like the universe was taking him apart and making a home there, and Steve was all at once sure that he was dying. Every heartbeat felt like a thousand years, and each bump sent ripples of ecstatic agony through him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The world held colors he'd never seen before, the air tasted like joy and light, he finally understood the meaning of love and life and-- 

Steve finally took a long, shuddering gasp, and the world was blessedly, beautifully grey again. He was back in his shitty, wrecked body, every sore muscle a relief. He clenched his fingers around the bed frame and sobbed when it felt like nothing but cold metal. 

"You're still with us, Mr. Harrington?" Dr. Curtis asked, a touch of surprise in her voice. She'd meant to kill him. She'd almost succeeded. 

Taking another long, steadying breathe, Steve muttered, "Fuck you." 

"We've finished the first test, now, Mr. Harrington," Dr. Curtis said, patting his arm. "You can breathe normally now." 

Steve's chest heaved, eyeing the IV still in his arm. It was the one that had turned him feral, every single time-- The other was gone, now, but they had left that one in. It seemed like a dumb choice, at first, until Steve remembered that it was also the one that made him feel most like he was two seconds away from exploding. 

"You're that confident I'm not faster than you?" Steve asked, genuinely curious. He had been right about one thing about her, turned out; She genuinely loved the science. If she died in this lab, at least she would have the answers she wanted. Steve thought he might be able to respect that, if it had only been him that she was fucking around with. 

He couldn't forgive her for the children. 

Behind Dr. Curtis, four of those hazmat suits filed in through the door.  

"That's exactly what we're trying to find out, Mr. Harrington," she said, and then turned toward the suits with a smile. "Start with his fingers." 

The next few hours were light on the experimentation, heavy on the torture. Steve let himself pass out for some of it, though the scientists didn't appreciate it. They were doing things to him that Steve didn't even have names for-- The kind of things that were illegal to do even to guys you were allowed to kill. Steve didn't watch it. Didn't want to know how to do that to someone. He just held his breath and watched that blood soaked ceiling until the pain finally took him away. 

They kept bringing him back, of course. That was what the amphetamines had been for. Time and again, they dragged him back out of sleep, only to find a new part of him was broken and bleeding. Then the yelling would start, or they'd do something childish like slap him-- Stay awake, they told him over and over again, 'cause Steve guessed it wasn't very fun to torture someone determined to sleep through it. 

He wasn't sure what made them stop. Maybe it was that eventually the drugs just started making him cry. Maybe the suits weren't as determined to see him dead as Dr. Curtis. Maybe they just realised there wasn't anything they needed from him after all. Steve wasn't sure. He just knew that, eventually, they stopped, loaded him back into that small, rickety wheelchair, and rolled him out of the room. 

Instead of returning from where they came, back towards McCann's office and the large, open room that held the democreatures, the suit pushing him continued further into the labyrinthian maze of the laboratory. Steve's head slumped against the back of the chair and he watched the white tile finally start to fade away, becoming dingier and dingier until it gave way to old, brittle concrete. They were in the original part of the lab, now, in whatever had existed in Lafayette before Brenner and his set had fallen apart. Before long, the concrete itself turned into the bars of small, clean cells. 

Empty cells, Steve noted, his stomach churning. 

When the suit finally pushed Steve into a cell, he was surprised to find someone already in it. 

"Steve? Steve!" Robin's face was pale, her freckles stark against her skin even in the lowlight. She was still wearing Steve's shirt, still covered in his blood-- It was impossible for Steve to tell if she was unharmed, but when she saw him she leapt to her feet unfettered.  "Steve! What the fuck did you do to him? Steve!" Robin was smart enough not to rush the suit or the chair, but she hovered anxiously in the cell, hands flapping weakly where they were tucked under her elbows. 

"God, Robin," Steve groaned. "My head. Please. Just-- please." 

"Out of the chair," the suit grunted. It wasn't the guy who had dropped him off at McCann's, Steve noted. Just another man equally as grumpy about working the whole human torture gig. 

Robin frowned. "You're not going to let him keep his wheelchair? He needs that! He just got shot in the leg!" 

The suit didn't sound impressed. "It's not like he's going to need it to go anywhere." 

"Yeah, whatever, man," Steve mumbled, his eyes falling closed to try and stave off the rapidly onsetting migraines. "Just fucking help me down. I have a bruise on my back bigger than your head." 

When the suit made no move to help, Robin rolled her eyes and rushed to Steve's side. She wasn't exactly Steve's idea of the person he wanted throwing him around when he could barely walk, but he had to give her credit where it was due: Robin didn't budge even a centimeter as he used her shoulders to lever himself out of the chair and then, slowly, down onto the concrete. 

"What a dickhead," Robin hissed as she watched the suit walk out the celldoor. He locked it behind him, and left the wheelchair just out of reach. 

Dickhead, Steve agreed, though he did sigh. "I don't know, I think at some point I started breaking bones," he said, because things got kinda fuzzy around the 13th dose of amphetamines. He might have been asleep for the worst of it. "I probably wouldn't have helped me either." 

Robin went quiet, her eyes flashing gold as she looked Steve over in the dark. He wondered what he must look like to her, all his bruises and bandages on display. The burns where he'd been tasered couldn't stand out that much, could they? Probably not as badly as they hurt, but he knew he didn't look great. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, because this was the longest she'd ever been quiet.

"Yeah? Y-yeah. They weren't all that interested in me, yet. I think..." Robin frowned, scratching a hand through her bangs. Her claws flashed, scraping against her scalp as she thought. "I think they must have captured fuchsbau before. They said they were still trying to figure out what kind of wesen was compatible with us, so they needed to save me for later." 

"God," Steve breathed. "Let's hope they don't decide to see what we would look like together."

"Do you think--" Robin swallowed. "Do you think I'll live through it?" 

"Rob, that's not--" The answer to that was simple, horrific, and probably not the one Robin expected. Steve had hours to try and think about literally anything but what was happening to his body. Somewhere along the way it had occured to him that if they wanted to create more Wesen like El, then they were going to need more subjects like El's mom. And she had lived through it, yeah-- But Steve wasn't sure that giving up El was something Terri would have chosen over living. 

He couldn't tell Robin that, though. He couldn't put it in her head that it could be something that could happen to her. They were too alike; She would do the same thing he always did, and make a horrible, terrible list of all the things they would do to her to make that happen. 

Steve wasn't going to let her think like that, even if it meant keeping a few things from her. 

"Listen to me," Steve said.  "That's not going to happen to you, okay? I won't let it." 

"But if it did--" Robin began, but Steve shook his head.

"You can't think about it. You can't. We just have to think about how to get you out of here." 

"How? How can we possibly--"Robin gestured to him, hands flying through the air. "Look at you, Steve. You can barely sit up." 

Steve sighed, letting his head fall back against the floor. He had to admit, he was just at a loss for ideas as Robin was. He couldn't even get out of his chair by himself, much less come up with a plan to break Robin out. All he could do now was keep putting himself in between Robin and danger. That would have to be enough until Hopper came for them. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. I never wanted--" 

"It's not your fault," Robin said. Her voice went husky with regret, losing its usual shrill nervousness.  "You were obviously doing everything you could to keep me and Eddie out of it, even though we were both fighting it. If anyone should apologize, it's me." 

"I know this is probably an awful thing to say," Steve began, reaching out to curl his fingers around Robin's wrist. "But I'm glad you're here with me now. I don't think I could do this alone. Or-- fuck, with one of the kids." 

Robin glanced down at his hand, pausing before her gaze slid to the floor. They sat in silence for a moment before Robin said, "... I wonder how Eddie and the kids are doing. Do you think they made it somewhere safe?" 

Steve shrugged, wincing as it pulled the skin of his bruised back. "Eddie already knows that Hop is safe," he said, "and I think he's smart enough to go there. It's Dustin I'm worried about. The little shit never knows how to sit still." The idea of Dustin or Erica anywhere near this place made Steve sick to his stomach, but at least he had the assurance that wherever they were, they hadn't been caught yet. If Eddie and the kids were in McCann's custody, Steve had no doubt that the man would be down here already, dangling the information over their heads.

"Was he like that the last time something like this happened?" Robin asked, and Steve laughed. She had no fucking idea how much Dustin's current ability to take orders was something Steve had worked for every day of the last six months.

"Yeah, he was terrible. That was the only reason we ever got close, actually," Steve said. "So I guess it's not all bad. Don't tell him I said that, though." 

Robin hummed, and wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling her knees to her chest. "How many time has this happened?" 

"Only twice, I think--" Steve's eyes went unfocused as he tried to remember the details that Dustin and Nancy had told him about the big picture of the Upside Down. His role had always been background noise, in comparison, and yet somehow he was always the one who came out with the biggest bruises. Except maybe Will, if you were counting trauma. "And never this bad, at least not for me. Do you remember when Will Byers went missing? That was the first time, and that's when El showed up, looking for help. I didn't know anything about it until I was trying to apologize to my ex-girlfriend and got attacked by a demogorgon. I didn't even know about Will until months later." 

"Holy shit, you fought one of those things?" Robin asked, her eyes going wide. 

"Uh, yeah. I mean, Nance and Jonathan were there, too," Steve said. "Nancy did most of the damage, I guess, because she had a gun--" 

"Nancy Wheeler has a gun?" 

"She's got two of them," Steve corrected.  "I just had this... this bat monstrosity that Jonathan made me. I call her Farrah. She lives in my car." 

There was a beat, and then Robin said, "I hope you mean baseball bat, and not one of the monstrosities we saw on the way in." 

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Baseball bat with like nails and stuff in it." Steve sighed. If he'd thought about getting Farrah out of his trunk before they'd rushed Ritter in the Sinclair's yard, they might not be in this mess. He really needed to stop letting the Grimm instincts get in the way of his Steve instincts. "Anyway, Farrah was how I even got involved the second time. Nance and I had broken up again, and I was moping around her house like a dork, and Dustin came looking for her. Well, and me, I guess, but it was mostly about me having a weapon. He had tried to keep this... This baby demogorgon--" 

"A baby?" Robin repeated.

The full implications of it hit Steve for the first time. Had Dart been human once, too, or had the abominations started breeding? Which was worse? "God. Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," Steve said, trying to physically shake the thoughts out of his head.  "Anyway, he was keeping it as a pet, until it ate his mom's cat. So then I got pulled into protecting Hawkins from Dart and all his little friends, and then... Well, things got really complicated. I'm still not entirely sure what was going on with El and Will last year. People don't really... explain things to me, you know? But apparently there's something out there, something like El, and it doesn't like the scientists, but it sure doesn't like us, either." 

Robin sat with that for a moment, staring at Steve before joining him in the head shaking. "I can't believe you just...." 

"What?" Steve said, a blush raising up his neck. He knew he hadn't exactly been helpful during the whole 'let's save the world!' thing, and he wasn't the best storyteller, but he didn't think it was all that bad. 

"Why didn't you walk away?" Robin asked. "I would have. I would have run, actually. Screaming." 

"Well..." Steve rubbed at the burns on his torso. It hurt when he tugged at them the wrong way, but they were starting to itch in a way that Steve was sure was going to drive him up the fucking wall long before the pain did. Besides, it made a good distraction for the guilt that always ate at him when he talked about this. "It was my fault, you know. When it took Barb. So. I just wanted to make up for that, I guess. I didn't want to be that guy anymore." 

"Steve, I don't want to tell you how to feel, but I feel like..." Robin grimaced, thinking about Barb. Steve remembered that she had brought Barb up, once, as an accusation. Even if she hadn't meant it as one, it had felt like it. Steve didn't know exactly how Robin and Barb had known each other, but they were in the same grade. It would have probably been a lot like it would have been for him if Eddie had died out of nowhere, halfway through senior year. A pang hit Steve at the thought. 

"Well, it obviously isn't the truth," Robin continued, rousing Steve from his thoughts. "If McCann was telling the truth, then..." 

"I can't think about that," Steve said quickly. "I know it's awful, but it would-- It would be better if she were dead, then one of those things. I can't imagine what they would have done to her, to turn her into one, and--" He had to take a deep breath. Steve's chest still hurt from all the medication still in his bloodstream, and the more they talked, the more it felt like his heart was trying to make it out of his chest cavity. "And after the amount I've seen torn apart or set on fire? The amount that I've helped take down? I can't think about that. Barb died that night. She had to." 

What else was he supposed to tell Nancy? How could he even look her in the eyes, if he decided that Barb had been turned into some kind of monster? It would just be another way he had failed her. 

"You know," Robin began with a long sigh, her body curving over Steve's like an apostrophe, "Barb and I used to be best friends." 

Steve blinked. "You were friends with Nancy?" 

"No, dingus," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Long before Barb and Nancy were an iconic duo, it was Robin and Barbie. We were young, too young to even know what was cool and what wasn't, and Barb was--" Robin interrupted herself with a long smile. "She was so smart, you know? And kind, but not in the way where she let people walk all over me. To us, we were the coolest, smartest girls in Hawkins. It didn't matter what the other kids said about us, or how weird we were in public. We were inseperable. But when we started getting older... When we started getting older, I guess I just got too weird for her. Next thing I know, she's holding hands with Nancy Wheeler by the monkey bars." 

Well, he certainly knew how that felt. He almost laughed at the mental image, because it was so funny to imagine a girl upset that her best friend was holding hands with another girl, so funny to imagine that she might feel betrayed, or cheated. Then Steve thought about his bad habits, the way he'd make himself sick thinking about Tommy and Carol, the stupid little obsessive spirals he'd get over any male classmate who gave him the slightest bit of positive attention. Maybe it wasn't funny to him. Maybe, he thought, glancing at Robin with new eyes, it wasn't funny to Robin, either. 

"It's okay. I stole Nancy back from Barb for you," Steve said, because this wasn't the kind of realization he wanted anyone to have bleeding onto a concrete floor. "Karma for your betrayal." 

"And then Jonathan stole her from you?" Robin asked, before flushing. "Sorry, I--" 

"No, it's fine. And no, I don't think-- God, I don't even really know. Me and Nance were broken up. Kinda. I guess. She just moved on really fast. And the thing is, I almost didn't even mind it in the moment, because at least I could stop worrying about when she was going to stop loving me after it had already happened, you know? Can't win her back, she's got a new boyfriend, book closes." Steve had been trying to explain it to anyone who would listen for the half a year now, and he still hadn't gotten any better at it. For some reason, no one ever believed that Steve wasn't still expecting Nancy to come back to him, that he had never felt entitled to her attention and time. He knew that Jonathan was doing his best to build the life Nancy wanted; Why would Steve try to stop that? "I just didn't know that it meant we couldn't be friends anymore. I keep trying, but it doesn't matter what I say or how I feel in the moment, because it always somehow turns into fighting. I feel like she makes me angry on purpose, sometimes, just so she doesn't have to talk to me anymore. Or maybe that's just the Grimm anger issues rearing their ugly head again."

Robin hummed. "It sounds like you need new friends." 

"No kidding," Steve said with a snort. Understatement of the fucking year. "After all that shit senior year, though, I'm... I'm not the Steve Harrington anymore. That shit with Tommy and Billy last year was such bullshit, but really what it comes down to is that everyone else moved on, and I'm still here in Hawkins. I knew Tommy and Carol were never going to get it together, but-- But I had three entire teams of teammates, and Nicole and Susan, and they still--" 

"Hey," Robin said, sharply. She flipped the hand under his over, and tangled their fingers together. "Fuck them. We can be each other's friend, then." 

"That sounds nice," Steve said, before a yawn broke over him. He was so exhausted, suddenly, like Robin's touch had finally given him permission to unclench, for once. He rubbed at his face, ignoring the way the fingers on that hand still shook and ached."Sorry." 

Robin hesitated, then pushed Steve's hand away from his face. "You should go to sleep for a little while. I can keep watch." 

"That's not--" Steve tried to protest, but Robin shushed him. 

"No, seriously, Steve. Your body needs rest if you're ever going to heal," she continued, pushing the hair back from his face. "You're going to be sore no matter what, but maybe it can get the healing to hurry up a little. I'll keep watch." 

"... Okay," Steve said. He turned his head, pressing his forehead to her ankle. "Yeah, okay."

It took a little while for Steve to let himself fall asleep-- Half his body still expected to be yanked back out of it by the sick tug of medication once again. It wasn't until Robin began to rake her fingers through his sweaty, matted hair, humming under her breath, that Steve finally felt himself relax. Then, it was only a few moments before exhaustion dragged him into the depths of sleep. 

He was too tired to dream. Somehow, even while sleeping, Steve was aware of that. There were no images, no feelings-- Just a deep, inky blackness all around him. Steve was unreal again, barely a concept in the flicker of his mind, but it wasn't like in Dr. Curtis's lab. The darkness was warm, now. Comforting. It had become a place where Steve could rest, letting time pass over him in a deep corner where the pain couldn't get him. 

There was no way to tell how long he spent there, combing through the smoke of his own mind. It felt like hours, hours spent sifting through shadow and sand, but he couldn't be sure. What was the difference between an hour and a minute, really, when there was nothing for time to age? 

Steve sat in the darkness, and bid his body to heal. 

He didn't wake until the first explosion. Steve wasn't even conscious until the aftershocks were rippling through the cell, the concrete shaking under them. Robin had Steve's hands in-between both of hers, but she wasn't looking at him as he jerked back to wakefulness next to her. He watched her peer into the hallway, blinking into the light. Above them a siren began to go off. 

"What the f--"

"I don't know!" Robin hissed, her voice barely a whisper under the wail of the alarm. "I don't-- It was quiet two seconds ago." 

In the distance, someone screamed. Steve closed his eyes again, propping himself up on one elbow as he strained his senses. If he blocked out the sound of his own breathing, he could hear the rest of the lab-- There were a few conversations he couldn't make out, but most people were shouting for help. Multiple sets of feet against tiles. The crackling roar of a demogorgon, its overtones harmonizing with the siren. 

It didn't sound anywhere close to where the scream had come from, though. Whatever was going on, the monsters weren't the problem. 

"I can't hear anything," Steve said, frowning. "I mean, there's no, like, guns or anything. What the fuck caused that blast?" 

Robin helped Steve sit up, her hand firm on his back. "Do you think it could be Chief Hopper?" 

"I know I said Hop can go a little overboard, but I don't think he would blow up a federal building, no," Steve said. "If Dustin dragged Eddie and Erica into doing something stupid, I'm going to kill all three of them." 

There was another scream, closer than before-- This one was high, guttural, and as it reached its apex it was gut short with a weak gurgle. Robin's fingers tightened around Steve's, her claws slipping out and piercing the soft backs of his hands. 

"I don't think that was the kids, Steve."

Multiple sets of footsteps pounded down the steps towards them, followed by heavy breathing. Most of them were expected, the sound of someone running for their lives, but there was one that was... odd, somehow. Off-tempo. There was nothing that set alarm bells off in Steve's mind, no gurgling roars or growls, but... 

"We need to get ready," Steve gasped out, rising unsteadily to his feet. "Something's coming." 

Robin scrambled after him, and they pressed themselves to the back of the cell, eyes locked on the bars in front of them. Hopefully, what had been meant to keep them in would be keeping them safe, but Steve wasn't about to wait for death with his face pressed against the bars. 

"Is it here?" Robin whispered, her hand finding his in the dark. 

"Almost," Steve said back. The footsteps were just around the corner. Further in the distance, the screaming had not stopped, but Steve couldn't care. The footsteps were the only thing that mattered. They were closer now, and Steve could hear the soft squeak of their shoes against the tile. A human, then, he guessed-- Or a Wesen. Maybe one of the kids broke out and was causing havoc, Steve thought, or maybe that jagerbar was still alive, and had decided he wasn't going down without a fight. 

A figure rounded the corner, sprinting straight for Steve and Robin's cell. Steve squinted, but he couldn't make out their features-- The cell was dark, and the hallway was too bright. He could only see the sillouhette of whoever it was as they approached the cell door. They were shorter than him, and he could make our the blonde halo of their hair, and their long white coat. 

There was a jingling of keys, and the cell door flew open. On instinct, Steve stepped forward, shoving Robin behind him. 

"What's going on?" he demanded, and Dr. Curtis stepped into the room. 

She was a mess. Now that they were a little closer, he could see the blood spattered across her, her soft makeup running down her face. The impervious mask of nonchalance and genteel passion was gone again, the malice peeking through once more-- But fear lurked just behind it. It was the fear that warped her face, pulling her mouth and eyes into a grotesque snarl. 

Dr. Curtis stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger at Steve's chest. "You!" she spat, ignoring how her own hands shook. "I heard about you from some of the others. You have to help us. That's your job, right? That's what your people do? Help us. You have to--" 

If Steve were smarter, he probably would have made for the door already. Dr. Curtis was already shaken and off-balance, and she hadn't exactly been an imposing woman without the stun gun and backup. Steve probably could have taken her, even in his battered, weakened state, and he had Robin to back him up. The problem was, though, that Steve didn't want to run. He'd already missed that choice two years ago. 

No, Dr. Curtis wasn't Nancy. Wasn't anything like her, thank God. Steve hated her with everything in him. But he didn't want her to do like this, scared and alone. 

"You have to tell me what's going on," Steve said, his voice firm. "What's happening?" 

"Don't," Robin said, tugging at Steve's hand. "This is obviously a trap." 

"No!" Dr. Curtis said, her voice rising into a hysterical shriek. "No, I'm begging, please--" 

A second figure filled the doorway, their shadow falling across Dr. Curtis. It was a man, one Steve didn't recognize. He wasn't dressed like a scientist. If anything, he was dressed like a dad, a polo and khaki pants and tall, white socks in sneakers. Mud and blood caked his shoes and hands.

Dr. Curtis screamed, and tried to push past the figure to run back into the hall, but the man didn't budge. He was supernaturally sturdy, the force of Dr. Curtis's body didn't even sway him. There was no tension in his body, either. He just took the hit, straight to the abdomen, and kept staring straight ahead. 

And then he reached up, tangled his fingers in Dr. Curtis's hair, and yanked. 

Her neck broke in a sick crunch, the scream in her throat trailing off. It lasted longer than Steve would have liked, an uncomfortable reminder of how long it took a brain to stop firing. Robin, behind him, filled the sudden silence with a scream of her own. It was only the highpitched whine of her voice that broke through Steve's shock, the only thing that helped him tug his eyes away from Dr. Curtis's body. 

She was dead. Holy fuck, she was dead. Hours ago, Steve had been trying to kill her himself, but seeing it actually happen was-- It was--

Steve's stomach churned, and he held one shaking hand out to the unmoving figure. "Look, I know they were bad people, but-- We're not with them, okay? We're not with--" 

The man's face swung towards Steve, but his eyes stayed unseeing and blank. The light through the bars caught on his face, and Steve felt a shiver go down his spine at what he saw there. The man was pale and bruised, as if his blood had pooled in all the wrong places. There were no irises to be seen in his eyes, either gone entirely pale or merely swallowed up by the blown, dreamy pupils. The scelera were red, not 'high and trying to hide it' red, but like he was sick. Like the blood vessels had burst and it was leaking into places it shouldn't. Like he was crying blood. 

"Listen, man. Back off, okay?" Steve said. He didn't even know if this guy could hear him, but the last thing he wanted to do was get in another fight. "I don't want to hurt you." 

The man growled. Not an animalistic growl, or even a wesen's blended chords, but the soft, chittering sound of a democreature. 

"Fuck," Steve spit. He planted his feet, squared his shoulders, and--

The man leapt before he could. Whatever preternatural reflexes that had helped Steve before were lost to him now. He didn't know if it was because of the "tests", or if this man was honestly just faster than him, but the guy hit him like a ton of bricks before Steve's legs even bent. 

The man didn't fight like a human, all flailing limbs and gnashing teeth. They wrestled like kids for a moment, the man evidently unused to fighting someone who wasn't used to running away. Steve himself was having trouble getting his body back under his control, weariness still dragging every movement to a crawl. He knew he needed to push through, and the pain wasn't so bad now that he could compartmentalize, but his body just wasn't listening to him. 

A fair fight wouldn't get them anywhere, Steve realised. He needed to start fighting dirty, and fast. With a move he would never admit he learned from one of Dustin's geeky movies, Steve hooked an ankle behind the man's leg and pushed him backwards. The man's grip on Steve's shoulders meant they both went tumbling to the floor, a mockery of Steve's fight with James, but that was okay. This time, Steve had a plan. 

Steve had never been the best wrestler, for all of Tommy's enthusiasm. Still there were a few things he had picked up here and there, a few things he had modified in his head recently. Not that he had been thinking about actively fighting Wesen, or anything, he had just-- He dodged a swipe from the man's hand and reminded himself that repression could come later. He had something more important to struggle with right now. 

The point was, Steve knew how to pin someone, and he knew how to get someone to give up. He just didn't think this man was the kind to give up because someone said, "Hey, stop or I'm going to break your arm." If the guy even could stop. So Steve wasn't going to warn him. He was going to break it, and then they could go from there. 

A wristlock would do it, if Steve could just get the guy in the right position. It wouldn't even be that hard, Steve thought, as he grabbed the man's arm, kneeing him in the head just to keep him off balance. He was doing this on the ground so he could have more leverage, but he probably wouldn't even need it, he just-- Steve's brain went faster and faster, shaking off the malaise that had settled over the last day. He knew what he had to do. He was calculating things he didn't even have words for, things that Dustin would explain to him over and over again just to give up when Steve still didn't understand. But Steve didn't need the words for it, his body knew it, and he tucked the man's arm under his, wrapped his arm around the wrist, grabbed him by the bicep and-- 

It was almost ridiculous, how easily the guy's bones snapped under Steve's hands. He was pretty sure he'd opened Coke cans that had given him more trouble. It didn't feel powerful, didn't feel good-- It sent alarm bells off in Steve's head. Whatever had been done to this dude, it had ruined his body in more ways than one. How could this man be so strong, yet so delicate? He hadn't even made a noise when Steve snapped his bone like a twig. He hadn't even made a noise when he'd killed Dr. Curtis, so why were his bones like fucking chalk--

Steve scrambled off the guy, backing up to the opposite corner from where Robin had tucked herself away. "Look, dude, you're beaten. Just stop and let us--" 

The man went to his feet with slow, jolting movements. There was a moment where he just stood there, blinking, and Steve and Robin's harsh breathes filled the silence of the cell. And then the slow walk began again, his arms still flailing, even with one bent the wrong way and flapping in the air. 

From the other side of the cell, Robin leapt forward and, with a yell, hit the guy with an awkward blow to the spine. The man whirled on her, teeth gnashing, and Robin scrambled back. Steve cursed, grabbed the man by the back of his t-shirt, and sent him into the concrete wall. 

He had to teach this girl how to throw a punch if they were going to keep hanging out. Steve simply did not have the track record it took to be friends with a pacifist. 

"Jesus fucking--" Robin scrambled to Steve's side as the man righted himself and turned to them both once again. "Is this guy a zombie?" 

"Fuck." Steve's stomach sank. He had long since dismissed the idea that this could be something Wesen. "Is that a thing?" 

"No, it's not a fucking thing, Steve!" Robin shrieked. "It's a stupid human thing, like vampires and unicorns!"

The man-- the zombie-- leapt at Robin once more, who squeaked and shoved herself around Steve, running for the door. 

"I am so fucking sick of this asshole," Steve muttered, rushing forward and pinning the guy against the wall again. He grimaced as the man's teeth sunk into the meat of his neck. They didn't go far, surprisingly-- Not as far as Steve would have thought, when he heard the word zombie. It felt like blunt, human teeth into his shoulder. It still hurt like hell, though. "Robin, you need to run." 

"What?" Robin hovered in the door. "No, I'm not leaving you here." 

"Robin," Steve gasped, as the man's teeth sunk a little deeper.  "I am telling you that there is no way to get this man to stop without killing him, and I need you to--" 

There was a second explosion, somewhere in the lab. A choir of screams and roars filled the hallways, bits of concrete falling down around them.

"Just kill him then!" Robin yelled. "You're a Grimm, that's what you do!" 

There was a lot Steve could have said to that. Sure, he could have told her he wasn't a real Grimm, not in the way that mattered. He could have said that he didn't want to be the kind of Grimm that killed people. He could have said that he'd thought about it, and seeing Dr. Curtis die in front of him made him realise that he'd been right to give up violence, after all. He could have said all of that, and more. He didn't. 

What Steve did do was pull back a little, feel the man's teeth tear at his skin, and find inspiration. 

Unlike their zombie, Steve had the advantage of a functioning brain. So when his teeth found purchase in their zombie's skin, he knew to go for the jugular. Where it was, how to find it. The zombie's pulse thundered under his tongue for just a moment before Steve clamped down, metallic warmth bursting into his mouth. Blood was thicker than he'd expected it to be. Saltier, too. And while he'd been prepared for the blood, at least a little, Steve hadn't expected the tendons. The way they snapped in his mouth, getting stuck between his teeth. 

Steve pulled away, spitting flesh onto the floor. 

The man did not stop moving. He struggled in Steve's hold, his teeth still grinding into the meat of Steve's shoulder, and these were not death throes. He was still fighting, somehow, and not even actively bleeding out seemed to have any effect on his determination.

"Any other bright ideas?" Steve called, blooding bubbling in his mouth. 

"Jesus christ," Robin muttered, before throwing herself into the fray. She pushed in close beside Steve, her elbow digging into his ribs as she dodged a flailing hand. She had woged, a fox-like grace to her movements that was so different than her awkward, gangly human form. Robin dug her claws into the divot Steve had created in the man's neck, and with a sick wet, tearing sound-- 

They both stumbled back, the man's body slumping to the floor without their hands to hold him up. His head rolled after Robin, who squeaked and scurried away from it, as if it would bite. Honestly, it might-- the man's jaw still worked uselessly, bits of Steve still stuck between his teeth. 

Blood covered the cell floor, Steve's chest and arms, Robin's claws-- She stared down at them, shaking, as they morphed back into slim, human fingers. In the distance, chaos still played its symphony, but the silence in the cell was louder, somehow. The world was falling apart, and they had just taken out the last Jenga block. 

"What the fuck did we just do?" Robin whispered, her voice shaking. 

"What... What we had to," Steve said. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew there was no way that Robin would be able to live with herself if he didn't at least pretend to. Some people were made to carry guilt on their shoulders, but not Robin-- And she hadn't even done anything wrong, had she? Steve told her to go. He told her to go, she could have gotten out, she was just saving him-- Steve grabbed Robin by the shoulders, leaving bloody prints on her-- his -- shirt, desperate to convince her. "We did what we had to. And now we get out of here." 

Robin nodded, tears welling in her eyes. 

There was no room left for stealth as they made their way out of the lab. Whatever that man had been-- zombie, democreature, wesen --he couldn't be the only one. Not with the never-ending screams that kept echoing through the hallways, or the explosions that rocked the walls around them every few minutes. Their footsteps could barely be heard above the cacophany, and Steve wanted them out before anyone, or anything, else could find them. They used every ounce of their Wesen speed as they darted along the halls from corner to corner. 

Not that there was anyone to hear them, anyway. 

Steve would have liked to be able to say they didn't see a single person on their way back. It would have been more accurate, though, to say they didn't see a single live one. The hallways were lined with bodies. Steve hadn't even known that there were this many people in the building, but here they were now, stacked against the walls like a firing squad had marched their way through. Blood splashed under their feet as they ran, and every door was thrown open, corpses spilling out. 

They didn't stop long enough to see who was who. They didn't have time, but more importantly, Steve didn't think he would ever sleep again if he did. 

His Grimm vision gave him enough to put the story together, anyhow. There were scientists, children in hospital gowns, democreatures-- and normal, everyday citizens, which Steve had to assume were more freaky zombie types. There were more of them than Steve had feared, dozens of them, and they weren't just here for the scientists. It was an all-out massacre. 

It took them too long to make their way back to the large, open room they had entered through. Steve remembered almost nothing of his trip from Dr. Curtis's lab to the cell, and even less about how to get back to McMann's office. They were relying entirely on Robin's memory, which was shoddy at best-- Not that Steve could blame her, with how scared she'd been. With how scared Steve probably would have been, too, if he hadn't been so focused on staying alive. The lab wasn't as large or labyrinthian as it had seemed, though-- Eventually, all roads led to Rome, and after a few terrible minutes chasing each other through viscera littered halls, they stumbled into the main lab. 

The glass cases were shattered, both inward and outward-- Blood was smeared across the glass and onto the tile floor. The largest enclosure, the one that had held the large, slumbering creature, was still intact, but so full of blood that Steve could no longer see through the glass. More bodies were thrown around for good measure, although the democreatures far outnumbered the human victims. It seemed that when the attack had first began, the scientists had made a run for it, leaving their precious experiments behind. 

They stopped running for just a moment, staring at the wreckage. Steve's chest hurt, and he couldn't tell if it was still from the tests, or just the sheer unfairness of it all. He hoped that whatever the democreatures were supposed to be now, they couldn't remember what they used to be. Steve wasn't sure if genetics could effect the memory like that, but right now he didn't care about science. He just wanted to live in a world where monsters didn't know about death, didn't know that somewhere their parents were still waiting for them to come home. 

"What are we supposed to tell-- They're killing everyone. How are we supposed to help?" 

Steve tangled his hand with Robin's and squeezed, and tried not to think about Wayne's coworker, still looking for his little girl. 

"We have to get ourselves out, first. I know it--" Steve's voice broke, and he swallowed, rubbing at his nose with his free hand. He didn't have time; He needed to get Robin out of here. He couldn't put her at risk to save someone who might already be dead. "I know it doesn't feel right, but we're not going to help anyone if we end up dead." 

Robin nodded, but her eyes didn't stray from the demodog at their feet. It looked so small, now that they knew. Steve remembered the way he had cradled one in his arms, smaller than even Will had been-- 

"You're right," Robin said, sounding a thousand miles away. "We should go."

The door to the parking lot was ajar, a fact that had Steve hesitating for longer than they could afford. He knew that the intruders had to come through from somewhere, but they hadn't seen any signs of fire or explosion yet, that they had seen. Surely, this couldn't have been the entrance they took-- What other reason could the zombies have had for blowing the place up? They obviously didn't need the extra help when it came to sheer violence. 

He knew they had no other choice. Whatever time they had left couldn't be wasted trying to find another exit. But the last thing Steve needed right now was to come across another one of those freaks in the dark. In a big, open space where someone could sneak up behind them. Every single one of Steve's new instincts was protesting every fucking part of this plan. Hell, he'd probably have an easier time convincing himself to follow the sound of the explosions and fight whatever he found there. 

"Steve, we have to go--" Robin said, her voice cut off by the entire building shaking, once again. The sound of the explosion itself was louder, this time. It echoed through the parking garage, sending them both flinching away from the door. "We have to go find the kids." 

The kids, Steve reminded himself. His kids. He couldn't save these strangers, no matter how hard he tried, but he could make it back to Dustin. He could make sure that no one ever touched one of his kids again, make sure that McCann and his cronies-- if they were even still alive --never set eyes on El again. He could scoop Erica up and hold her for as long as she would allow, praying to whatever Wesen considered God in thanks that he had been able to stop what they were bringing her here for. He could find the rest of them, keep them and their parents safe, make sure that whatever the fuck was happening here wasn't happening at home. Make sure it wasn't happening to his kids. 

It was horrible, Steve thought, that it actually helped. That it motivated him in a way the dead kids in the hallway hadn't. That he found himself taking one step, then another, until the darkness swallowed him up. He was so selfish, walking into danger, taking Robin with him, wanting his kids safe before anyone else's. Knowing it was horrible didn't make it any less true. 

Robin and Steve clung to each other in the dark, creeping through the garage. Even Steve's improved sight could barely make out the outline of the structure, and he could tell from the way Robin's golden eyes squinted that she wasn't faring much better. The door they'd left open behind them was the only light available-- Although every instinct told Steve he should run, it was a risk they couldn't afford. Besides, Steve didn't think he could take another blow if he did something stupid like trip. His body might just fall apart then and there.

So they took it slow, every step echoing in the empty carport around them. The darkness made the echoes of their shuffeling seem even louder, and Steve knew that if there was anyone in here with them, there was no way they weren't heading right toward them. If the zombies could even hear, that was. Steve wasn't sure if they could or not, but it seemed better to presume they could instead of getting caught out later-- 

"Steve," Robin said, tugging him to a stop. "The van." 

She was right. God, Steve had been thinking so hard about how he was going to win another stupid fight that he'd almost missed it-- The shitty white van that had brought them here was sitting exactly where they'd left it. Steve had to squint to see it in the dark, but he could still see his own blood pooling out of the back. 

No, actually. There was way too much-- 

"Is that--" 

Ritter lay halfway out of the van doors, his neck bent awkwardly as his shoulders and head slouched against the pavement. He looked uninjured, save for the obvious death vibe he was giving off, but the van was blocking his lower half. And judging by the amount of blood currently running down the bumper, Steve assumed that was very good luck for them. 

"He's dead," Robin breathed. She almost laughed, but cut it off, a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "Why is that-- Am I going into shock? Is this what shock feels like?" 

 "I'm gonna check the front seat," Steve said, dropping Robin's hand. 

"Don't fucking leave me with him," Robin hissed, scurrying after him. 

James, it turned out, was not in the driver's seat-- He was, however, spread across the hood of his van. And Steve meant spread very literally. 

"Yeah, I'm--" Robin started, before cutting herself off by vomiting. 

"We should find his gun," Steve said. The tips of his fingers were going cold. Was that normal? Was his heart finally giving out after everything he'd put it through today? Or maybe it was just because he was shirtless, in the middle of a fucking underground parking complex. Maybe--

"Do you even know what to do with a gun?" Robin asked. She hadn't even bothered to look up from her own mess, hands still planted on her knees. 

"Yes," Steve said. Lying. He'd never really gotten the taste for guns, although he'd tried when he'd found Nancy drawing further away. It hadn't helped much, probably because they'd both been thinking about Nancy holding a gun to Steve's face the whole time. Still, she'd taught him enough to fake it, probably. Maybe even enough to take down one of those zombies, if it didn't move too much. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you if you have a gun," Robin said. 

Steve bristled. "I am trying to get us out of here--" 

"Yeah, and you don't need a fucking gun to do it, either." 

"How many more blows do you think I can take?" Steve grit out. Horrifyingly, this was what made Steve's eyes start to well with tears. The sheer frustration of being underestimated once again, in a situation like this, after he'd already put fucking everything on the line--

"Not many," Robin said, "Which is why I don't think you should be using a firearm right now, Steven." 

"What else am I supposed to do?" Steve said. Shouted, really. He knew he was being too loud for the situation. He knew that every word was just drawing the monsters closer and closer, but what else was he supposed to fucking do? "I can do this anymore, Rob, I can't fucking--" 

"Hey." Robin's hands found Steve's face. Her fingers were just as cold as his, Steve noticed, and it was that fact alone that made him stop yelling, though his breath still rattled in his chest. "I get it. You've been staving off a mental breakdown for the past twelve hours. I know it's--" 

"I am not--"

Robin's grip tightened. "You are. And that's okay. You don't have to do everything, Steve. It's not your job," she said, and her eyes were startingly clear in the darkness. "You're gonna get me out of here, yeah? And I need you to trust me to get you out of here." 

Steve's hand wrapped around Robin's wrist, and for once, he tried not to think about how fragile her bones felt in his grasp. "I do. I trust you." 

"Okay," she said, pulling away. "Let's go, then." 

It was distressingly easy to open the door to the parking garage. The parts of Steve that still cared about things like logic or dipshit government agents were cursing up a storm in the back of his head, though he thought it might be a bit of a moot point considering they were all probably dead. Still, Steve had expected better. Dozens of human experiments in a secret lab, and the only thing Steve had to do to get out was open a garage door? 

Then again, Steve thought as he put the dead guard back in his chair, maybe they had counted on human intervention. 

"I'm gonna take a shower in bleach when we get home," Robin said, wiping her hands on Steve's filthy, blood-soaked shirt. 

Steve didn't bother. "I think we've got germs even holy water couldn't handle," he muttered. They stood at the bottom of the ramp, watching the mechanisms of the door churn as it slowly rose. Steve wasn't sure what he expected to be waiting for them-- Cool night air, maybe, or the purple light of dawn. Instead, smoke rolled in through the cracks, and the further it opened, the more a sickly orange light swallowed them whole. 

"What the--" 

Crouching low, Steve nearly crawled up the ramp. The smoke was thick, billowing from above them, from whatever structure that sat atop of the lab. Maybe it was actually a power plant, or maybe it was-- Another explosion went off, far too close for comfort, throwing Steve to the ground. The smoke was even thicker now, tinged with the smell of burning flesh. It made Steve's stomach clench with hunger, an urge that only made him gag. 

When was the last time he'd eaten? Yesterday? The day before? How many times had he died since then?

Robin's hand landed on his back; She'd climbed up after him, and was looking at him in obvious concern. Steve shook his head, and struggled back onto his hands and knees. They were almost out, he just needed to keep going for a little while longer. Just a little. 

They both peered into the thick smoke. It was harder to see through than the darkness had been; At least the darkness hadn't stung their eyes. Steve could barely make out the tops of the trees up where the smoke was a little thinner, and trying to find out what was happening on the ground was near impossible. Steve could see a glow to their right, a brightness in the smoke that he knew meant fire. In the shadows of the light, he could see people moving around in the smoke-- Some were moving slowly, all jerky motions but no attempts to cover their faces or mouths. Others were running away from the building, but Steve didn't see any make it very far. Sometimes, a shout would start, but then it would die too quickly for Steve to have any hope. 

"I can't fucking believe it," Robin whispered in his ear. "Real fucking zombies."

"Yeah, well, welcome to my last six months," Steve said. Fuckin' werewolves still threw him for a fucking loop.  

"So do we just... Run for it?" Robin didn't sound any more convinced with her plan than Steve was, but what other option did they have? The only other thing Steve could even think to do would be to go back downstairs and try to wait it out, or try to steal a car or something. But Steve had even less experience in that than shooting a gun, and he doubted that Robin was hiding a record of grand theft auto. 

"Okay," Steve said, steeling himself. "Okay, what we're going to do is wait for the next explosion." 

"Why would we--" 

"Because that's when we're going to make for the woods," Steve met her eyes. "I don't know how much cover it'll actually give us, but it's the only chance we've got without getting caught by-- By something." 

"What if there's no explosion?" 

"Then I guess-- I guess we fucking die here, don't we?" 

Robin went quiet, her eyes wide. Steve watched the muscles in Robin's jaw clench and unclench rhythmically. Eventually, she nodded, her face falling into a mask of grim determination. 

And they waited. 

It probably didn't take as long as it felt. Not really. But laying there in a wound in the ground, watching for enemies in the smoke, time seemed to go on forever. Steve felt his heart slow down, his lungs move slower and slower-- If he hadn't known so intimately what it felt like, now, Steve probably would have thought he'd died for a second or two. He kept getting caught in time, unmoving and unliving. Just another rock in the stream. 

The next explosion was a firing gun. They both scrambled to their feet and took off, sprinting towards the treeline. Adrenaline that Steve had long since given up on began to pump through his veins. He knew he was running at a speed he would have died for in high school, even though the smoke burned so harshly in his eyes and lungs that he thought he might clear the entire field before he got another breath. It was only because of the gaps in his own breaths that he realized he couldn't hear Robin's anymore. 

She was falling behind. Wesen or not, she had never been an athlete, and she had sacrificed sleep to let him rest. 

Deliberately, Steve slowed. 

"What's wrong?" Robin demanded between gasps for air. If they made it out of here alive, Steve was going to have to teach her how to run the right way. 

"It's my leg," Steve said, and it was barely a lie. The whole thing was aching, and he had this cramp in his thigh that he just knew was going to take him out the second he let it. "Keep going. As fast as you can; Don't look back." 

If someone attacked them from behind, he didn't want her there. He needed her to keep going. 

It was only when Robin had already broken the treeline that Steve realised he'd made a mistake. The moment she disappeared between the trees, he couldn't make anything out in the haze of the smoke but the trees themselves-- God, he was so fucking stupid. How was he supposed to protect someone he couldn't fucking see? There was a muffled shout in the woods, and Steve cursed, careening into the treeline after her. 

The moment he passed the first tree, someone was already on him. Their hands gripped his upper arms, the tips of claws digging into his shoulder blades. Whoever they were, they were too tall and too broad to be Robin, though he could see a flash on long hair in the smoke. Whoever they were, Steve knew he didn't want a single person in this lab to touch him again-- He tried to fight it, tried to shake them off, but there wasn't enough. He didn't have enough left. For the first time since his powers had come to him, Steve had no way to fight back. Those hands were just... He couldn't... 

"Steve!" A warm, worried voice said, close to his ear. "Steve, it's me." 

It was like seeing the face of a friend in a dream; You knew it was familiar, you just couldn't place why.

When it clicked, Steve's knees buckled in relief.

"Eddie."

He didn't know if Eddie was pulling him in, or if his body had just tired of holding himself up, but Steve found himself in Eddie's arms. He gripped back just as tightly, fingers twisting into Eddie's denim vest that his hands cramped. It was only just occuring to him that part of him had been entirely convinced that he might never see Eddie Munson again. A small tragedy, considering all that he had already seen, but one that would have burned. Just the relief from not having to live it was enough to make Steve ache. It would have been embarassing, if Steve couldn't feel Eddie's hand shaking where he was cupping the back of Steve's head. 

"We were so fucking worried," Eddie whispered. "What the fuck was happening in there?" 

"I hope you know that you're all fucking idiots," Steve heard Robin say from a little further into the woods. "What are you even doing here? You should be in Hawkins! You should be with the cops!" 

"She's right, you know. What the fuck, Eddie?" Steve said, but he had to admit that the admonishment was reduced a little by the fact that his face was planted firmly in Eddie's shoulder.  

"I'm not going to apologize for--" 

Steve pulled away the moment he heard Dustin's voice. The warmth of Eddie's body against Steve had the potential to fucking undo him right now, but literally nothing held a candle to seeing Dustin's face. He looked so clean, so innocent. Steve knew it was only because he'd seen what might have actually been hell in the last few hours, but he could have sworn that Dustin looked just as young as he had the day he'd met him. Behind him, Erica was practically a baby. 

Steve wanted to hold them both to his chest for the rest of his life. And El. And, God, Max and Lucas and Will and Mike and Holly and Nancy and Jonathan and probably his fucking manager at Scoops Ahoy and-- 

"What happened to you?" Erica asked. Steve could tell by the tremor in her jaw that she was trying to put on a brave, sarcastic face but the question had come out as nothing but horrified. 

"Oh, you know," Steve said, shrugging. "Got kidnapped by the US government and then broken out by a few zombies." 

"What?" Dustin asked. A curious light was beginning to sparkle in his eyes. So much for the tear tracks Steve could still see on his cheeks; Those were all but forgotten.

"It's literally the worst fucking thing I've ever seen," Robin said, her voice a graver version of her enthusastic prattle.  "They were people, but they... They weren't, you know? There was nothing behind their eyes. Just shells. Freaky, murderous shells." 

"You mean like Will last year?" Dustin said, his voice going higher than Steve was strictly comfortable with. "Is this Upside Down shit again?"

Robin looked at Steve, unsure. He appreciated her defering to him on secret-keeping, now, but there was no use. Robin and Eddie, Steve could have headed off forever. Dustin would march back into the lab for answers himself, if Steve refused to give him any.

"Don't call Will a zombie," Steve said, automatically. "And I'll tell you, okay, we just-- We need to get out of here. We cannot get caught by one of those things." 

Eddie nodded and then, without asking, wrapped Steve's arm around his shoulder. "We should get back to the van. Let me help, we'll be faster." 

Steve was too grateful to point out that he and Robin had just sprinted a four-minute mile. Besides, seeing the kids-- Seeing Eddie, touching Eddie -- had wiped him out. He was exhausted in ways he couldn't explain, like his body had seen them and just decided to stop fighting. Like his cells knew that he was safe, now, and therefore he could feel every fucking second of the last day and a half. 

As their strange little group started their silent hike back to the woods, Steve finally let himself cry.  Everyone was too kind to mention it, even Erica, but Robin's arm found its way around his waist before the first tear even hit the leaves underneath them. 

And if Steve wasn't imagining it, Eddie held him a little tighter with every step. 

[genshinconfessions]

sorry time for my monthly spiraling rant

i personally think the inclusion of nod-krai is very interesting lol

as a concept, the idea that there are some civilizations and villages not under complete jurisdiction of the archons is very cool - it's been done with past civilizations and ruins but we've never actually been to one. i feel like it'll maybe have a "traveler village" vibe at least from the teaser images we have so far.

reality wise - i think it's better that they actually are trying to make up for oversights that they missed early on in development - genshin was their second big project so of course they mess up, everyone does lol. i dont think its entirely fair to developers to bash them for making a "filler" region to fix mistakes years in the past when they had to divert their whole ideas, plans resources, and investments into creating an entirely unprecedented area to OWN UP to mistakes they made.

they basically said "yes we made mistakes, but we see that now, and have gradually shifted the story to allow ourselves to correct those mistakes and bring everything together."

and i immediately see the community basically (not everyone who criticizes, but its common among arguments against nod krai) go "okay so why didn't you do this sooner, you are horrible developers and never learn from mistakes" (which by the way, when Hoyo does make mistakes, they get bashed anyways)

its to the point where it goes

make something new and exciting (like natlan)

everyone hates it

go back to original plan (mondstadt 5.6)

everyone hates it

try to fix problems that people complained about (nod krai)

everyone hates it

there is literally no right way for hoyo to execute any ideas because they'll just receive backlash from players no matter what

and another thing i notice about this community - they get REALLY defensive, REALLY fast.

this might just be the analyzing part in me, but i see a LOT of deflection and defense whenever someone says something that criticizes another person's opinions. i dont know if this is limited to just the genshin fandom?? or anyone in general?? but someone will say they didnt like natlan, and list valid reasons why. a good response would be counters and explanations for why you don't agree with that. that's okay!

and then there are... the others. the ones that whenever someone says something that contains anything negative about what they're agreeing with, its berserker (4-piece set probably) mode instantly. pointing out why everything is wrong and how the basic fundamentals of how an individual thinks. like bro??? are you not allowed to be wrong?? there are so many genshin players i see that are just... completely unable to admit their faults. like come on man.

its not even one side which is the great part. like take the natlan debate for example.

there are those who loath its very existence (any enjoyment of this region gets you ostracized forever - by the way?? im not entirely sure if ostracized is a word that most genshin players possess in their vocabulary /j im just joking guys)

and the glazers (criticizing one thing will have people go ham and say the most intense glaze you've ever seen in your life. i could glaze a whole bakers dozen of donuts 14 times over with the amount they glaze)

and so i dont appear biased - i personally ENJOYED natlan. does that mean that it was good? not really! i enjoy a lot of things that are flawed or not good. as long as i have FUN is whats important, and i definitely had fun playing through natlan

ARCHON QUEST RANT SECTION

while the quests were fun yes, does that mean the story was peak?? not at all lol. there were tons and tons of mistakes and forgotten lore points and mavuika (while badass and cool as shit) is not the best written character!! do i still love her? yes!! its entirely possible to enjoy something while acknowledging flaws in design and writing. also idk if i lack comprehension but i thought forging traveler's ancient name would kill xilonen. why is she not dead?? (nothing against her i love her lazy ass)

i also just think a lot of genshin players fail to interact with and enjoy media that isn't "perfect." take one of the most controversial anime out there - sword art online. i have indeed watched the entirety of it, and i know and take into account the negative parts of it. (kirito's overpoweredness, harassment scenes, etc.) was it perfect? no!!! did i overly enjoy myself watching it? yes!! same thing with Mobile Suit Gundam - The Witch from Mercury!! it was obviously cut and rushed and concepts weren't as fleshed out as they could've been. did i enjoy the show? hell yeah!!! the lesbians live on in my brain forever

point is - a lot of this community needs to be more accepting, whether to devs, new updates and features, or other players opinions. they also need to be more open to criticism, and understand that while someone disagrees with your opinion, it doesn't undermine how you feel about it. if you enjoyed natlan, that's great! from a factual standpoint, it isn't perfect. none of the regions are. (which is the reason for nod-krai if readers here haven't figured it out already), and if you didn't enjoy it, you don't need to disregard the things that entertained people who liked it.

TL;DR: people should be more accepting and less defensive, attacking devs for not trying to fix their mistakes earlier (which is when they made the mistake to begin with) is kind of mean/morally wrong, and genshin players should try to enjoy imperfect media rather than endlessly telling others how it could be better

if that TL;DR was too long uhhhh treat others how you want to be treated and learn some goddamn reading comprehension i swear i see some of the most illiterate players in this fandom

okee thats all love you guys <3333 (sorry for long rant)

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