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l1tw1ck · 7 days ago

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Like a Doll

Bottom!FTM Scaramouche x Top!Monster-Hybrid!M Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,872 ☆

AFAB Language Used | [Series]

CW: Non-Con/CNC, Harbinger Reader, Womb Fucking, Objectification, Virginity Loss, Size Difference, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting

Right before his trip to Tatarasuna, Dottore’s plans were interrupted by a sudden and dire issue in Sumeru. So he allowed you to take his place. Your reliability and skills made you a suitable replacement.

During your trip, you found a distressed puppet and brought him to Snezhnaya. You took him under your wing and trained him to be who he is today. Even after he earned the title of the Balladeer, he still wanted to work with you as much as possible. He's in love with you but he's too cowardly to tell you. So instead, he puts on a mean, bratty facade while pretending that he works with you because you're better than the ‘useless minions’ in the fatui and ‘strongest’ harbinger, after him of course. It's easier to hide his feelings when he's behind a mask.

You've seen many authentic parts of him during your time training him but he looks back on himself with shame. He doesn't know how to convey his feelings in a way that doesn't feel extremely embarrassing.

When he has the time, he reads novels about romance and fantasizes about all the things you could do if he got the courage to tell you. He stumbled across a novel with more raunchy themes and stumbled down a rabbit hole of smut. Thanks to his realistic puppet body, he can feel arousal. So whenever he’s able to sleep in his own room, he masturbates before going to bed.

Sometimes he even does it when he's not home. Discreetly, of course. He loves imagining what you’d look like naked and how you’d fuck him. Since you're half human, he wonders which parts of you aren't human and how that might look. He’d love you regardless, but it's still nice to think about.

His favorite fantasy is you using your strength to completely dominate him and use his body however you want. He’s always thinking about it. He’ll be searching a cave and he’ll start imagining you forcing yourself on him. Or he’ll be watching you train while he's taking a break and think about you in a duel where you’d win against him and take him as your prize.

The last thing he ever expected was for his wish to come true.

Scaramouche watches you curse in frustration. Your subordinates fucked up your very important mission so you punished them by death. You don't care much for the lackeys and Scaramouche loves that.

“Maybe next time you should just go without them.” His mouth moves on its own. He’d never say that. He should be subtly comforting you right now by inviting you to kill some monsters and enemies nearby to blow off steam.

“Next time?” Your anger level rises. “There's no next time, Balladeer.”

“What are you getting mad at me for? It's not like I’m the one who told you to bring a bunch of useless fools on the mission.”

You clench your fists and sigh angrily as you walk over to him. “What's wrong with you?”

“I’m tired of your incompetence. You never listen to me when I tell you to—”

Your hand moves on its own and wraps around his throat. He's scared of whatever’s possessing him but also really horny. “You know what? I think I know the perfect way to make up for today.” You squeeze his throat before grabbing his arm and dragging him to a nearby cave.

“What are you doing?!” He yells, pressing his hands up against the wall to stop his face from crashing into it thanks to your sudden aggressive movement.

“You clearly want me to take my anger out on you, so that's what I’m going to do.” You rip a hole in his shorts. “Dottore told me you have realistic functionality…Don't move.”

Scaramouche’s face turns red. You're playing out one of his fantasies. “Hh-hey- get off of me–” He tries to move, to keep up the act, but he only manages to squirm. He forgot about your control over him. Dottore used Scaramouche's puppet body to ‘imbed’ a sort of ‘program’ in him. He's forced to follow your commands. You don't have much reason to use this ability, it's really just supposed to be a safety measure. You usually ask him to do things to avoid forcing him into anything.

“Keep your mouth shut. You don't want anyone to come by, do you?” You quickly move to free your cock. There's something in your brain telling you that you have to do this right now. Your movements and your words are being executed so smoothly that Scaramouche has no idea it's not voluntary. “It's fine if I just shove it in, isn't it? You're only a puppet.”

Scaramouche's eyes widen, his soft whimpers muffled by his sealed lips. You're huge.

“Shit, why are you so tight?” You groan, struggling to get your monster sized cock inside him. “Even now, you're still a fucking tease.”

The walls of his pussy are so soft and gummy, it feels way too good to only be felt by barely a quarter of your cock. You pull out and step back, pulling him back with you. “You're flexible so..” You fold his body, forcing his hands to touch the ground, and spread his legs. “Maybe it’ll be easier like this.”

He's glad he can't moan right now.

You push your cock back inside him, traveling further than before. He feels like he's at the peak of his climax but his body is refusing to let him come. He's gonna go crazy like this.

You reach his cervix and frown, you're still not fully inside. Scaramouche's eyelashes flutter dramatically as he feels your cock entering his womb. He didn't think his body was able to do that.

You roughly thrust into him. He can feel your monster cock throbbing. “If I knew you felt this good I would've kept you all for myself. You're a lot better like this, like a little sex doll.”

Scaramouche’s body twitches as his orgasm arrives, finally allowing him to squirt on your cock. His heart flutters at the sound of your pleased noises.

You feel relieved that your strange and ‘possessed’ behavior isn't hurting him. You're ruthless and cruel but not to this degree. And you have to admit, he feels great. “You like the sound of that, doll?” You fuck him through his orgasm. You can hear his muffled moans. “Tell me.”

“Yes~! I’m your sex doll, [Name]~!” He cries out. “Use me!”

You pull out and pick him up, turning him around. You press him up against the wall with your hands on his hips. Scaramouche quivers at the sight of your cock. It looks even better than he imagined.

You pause. There's a soft purple glow coming out from behind his tattered shorts. You want to investigate further but the strange entity possessing you won't allow it. You figure it’d be hard to fully remove his clothes without making everything super complicated. You shrug it off and make a mental note to check later.

He wraps his arms around you and gently throws his head back as you slide back inside him, his hair scrunching up.

“You can't get pregnant, can you?” You manage to get a voluntary sentence out. If he could, the outcome would probably be very…strange.

Scaramouche shakes his head rapidly. His mother made him realistic but not that realistic.

“Good.” Your hands slide down to grope his ass as you continue to fuck him. He tries not to be too loud but it's hard. You press your lips against his to silence him. He whimpers and pauses, his body jittering as he squirts again. He starts feeling light headed as your cum fills his womb.

You pull out and help him stand up. You notice that none of your cum is leaving his body. Out of all the weird things that’ve happened today, this is probably pretty low on the list.

During your report to the Tsarista, you started to feel something going on with your body. It felt like you were inside Scaramouche again. Luckily for you, there was no way for the Tsarista to know what's going on. You didn't have a boner and your face remained calm. Your hands were shaking but if she noticed, it's likely she would have assumed you were tired or still pissed off. The moment you were able to leave, you hurried over to his room.

While you were on your way, you could feel his pussy squeezing you. Like he was having multiple orgasms.

You're too horny to worry about knocking so you just enter his room and lock the door behind you.

Scaramouche, who's completely naked, turns his head to you. His fingers are pressed against a purple tattoo on his lower stomach and his legs are spread wide.

Your focus quickly turns to his tattoo while your boner finally makes an appearance.

“I don't know where it came from..” Scaramouche wordlessly invites you to come closer. “When I touch it, it makes me come faster and when I think of you, it feels like you're inside me again.”

You gulp. “I could feel you too.”

His cheeks turn red. “Sorry..”

“It's fine. Do it again.”

Scaramouche immediately complies. So it works even if you're together.

You quickly release your boner. “Kneel.” You order, gripping his hair once he does so. “I want you to keep doing that while I use your throat, okay?”

Scaramouche makes a quick noise of approval before opening his mouth wide.

It feels like you're in both of his holes at once. It's almost overwhelming but the two of you can handle it.

You roughly thrust into his mouth, making use of his lack of a gag reflex. His lips and cheeks are stretching to take you. He moans along your shaft as he slightly bounces his hips on your pseudo-dick. He brings his hands to play with his tits so he can further bless your eyes.

His “orgasm face” appears once again as he comes, somehow squeezing your pseudo-cock even more aggressively than before. That, along with the feeling of his warm mouth, is enough to send you over the edge.

Your cum slowly starts to overflow and drip out of his nose and mouth. You pull out and the rest dribbles down his body. You're still hard.

“Get on the bed and lay down.”

Scaramouche hurries over to his bed and lays down with his legs spread.

You grab his legs and fold him once again, this time with his feet reaching his head. He gives you heart eyes as you slide your length inside him. Now it really feels overwhelming, you're feeling double the sensations.

A bulge forms in his stomach as you travel to his womb. He reaches out to touch his tattoo, making your movements stutter. You curse under your breath and take a few seconds to process it all before slowly thrusting inside him.

Scaramouches fingers press harder onto his skin, subtle bolts of electro sparking all over his body. You wince at the feeling. It's not painful, only stimulating. He moans erotically as he comes even harder than before.

You groan in response and come shortly after. You slowly pull out and silently watch your cum dribble out of his pulsing hole.

Things are gonna be a lot different from now on.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #genshin impact smut #ftm character #dark content #dom male reader #wicks🕯series #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #bottom scaramouche #sub scaramouche #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #tw noncon

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coldfanbou · 3 months ago

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Kinkcember 30: Exhibitionism

Welp, this is the final one. Momo is high and mighty as she commands everyone's attention.

Length: 2.2K

Momo X Mreader

“What you need is a change of scenery.” Your friend babbled on. “Sex is sex, but changing things can make it a whole lot better. Like, imagine a whole bunch of people watching you.”

“Or a whole lot worse.” You retort, ignoring the second part.

“Oh, come on. Let’s try something new. I know a place.”

“Oh, don’t tell me-”

“Just once, I’m sure you’ll love it. Everyone can fuck everyone.” You look into your friend's eyes, knowing exactly what she was after. You had started this conversation to figure out your problems, and Sana had quickly found a way to try and get you to join her on something she wanted to do. “All I’m saying is you might be able to find someone who’ll get you off. There’s this woman there. She’s an absolute goddess; I hear that everyone watches her finger herself because she’s so choosy with her partners.”

“Is that supposed to entice me?”

“...yes,” Sana eeps out. “Come on, just once. We go in, have some fun, get out, and then you’re back on track.”

“You just want to fuck as many people as possible, don’t you,” You know her goal. You know what Sana’s been dying to try. She just doesn’t have the gall to walk in alone.

“Okay, yes, but I’m sure you’ll, at the very least, get something that might help you out of it. Exhibitionism is fun, and this place is the best for it.” You sigh and reluctantly agree; you didn’t have much to lose. You let Sana do all the hard work of setting up your little trip and followed her along, snaking through the city and small side streets until you finally reached the place.

Sana knocked on the door, and from the outside, it looked like an old warehouse. You couldn’t help but imagine what could possibly be inside that Sana was so excited about. Your attention was returned to Sana as she bounced from foot to foot. She grabbed your hand and dragged you through the door. “This is going to be great.” Sana chirped as you reached the end of the hall. “Okay, the guy said to strip here.”

“What?”

“Strip here; everyone is naked inside. Just go along with it.” You wanted to curse out Sana badly, but you let it go for the moment and undress with her doing the same. You place your clothes in a bag and hand them to an attendant who marks you both with a number. “This is so you can get your clothes when you're done,” Sana says before pushing forward and opening the door that led to the main room.

Inside was something much more elaborate than you’d expected. The room had bars on either side of the room, small tables decorating the edges where people were talking, and fucking like it was normal to have sex in front of strangers. As your eyes moved toward the center, you noticed the different levels. Beds were placed on a platform where plenty of people were having their fun. At the center of it all was a single bed raised higher than the rest. As Sana had heard, there was a woman masturbating as she watched everyone else. Many tried to meet her gaze as she turned her head toward the entrance. “That’s her,” Sana whispers, nudging your shoulder. “Well, I hope you have fun. I’ll see you later.” Sana says with a giggle as she walks toward the bare, swaying her hips in hopes of attracting attention. As you turn from Sana back to the woman, you see her staring at you. She stops fingering herself and moves off her bed. Cocking her head to the side, she begins to grin and levels herself. She motions for you to come to her. You look around, unsure if she actually meant you, but when you look back, she nods her head. As you walk toward the center, you hear the other’s whispers. You gather from them that the woman’s name was Momo. You keep your eyes on her, looking over her full figure. She was undoubtedly beautiful, and her large mounds, small waist, and wide hips completed the package.

“C’mon here, big boy.�� She says as you get closer, beckoning you. Momo’s finger slowly curls, licking her lips as she keeps her eyes on you. Her other hand moves gradually around her lower lips, tracing them as you approach her. You stare at the lustful woman before you; her legs are slick with her juices, almost gleaming under the room’s lights. You slowly move up the steps to her bed, keeping your eyes on her at all times while she does the same to you. Momo already knew all eyes were on her; they always were, even when everyone else was having their fun.

As you approached Momo, she took steps back, letting her legs touch the bed frame. Finally close enough to touch her, Momo extended her arm, running it down your chest. She kept you at that arm's length away. Her eyes going over your body, her smirk growing a little wider. “Oh, you’ll do just fine,” Momo said softly as she used her nails, running them over your stomach until she wrapped her hand around your cock. “I’ll get this thing nice and hard in just a second.” Momo took a step toward you, pressing her ample bust against your chest. You felt her nipples drag along your body as Momo pushed her chest out. You let out a small grunt as Momo rubs the tip of your cock with her thumb, moving it at an agonizingly slow pace. She would go back and forth over the center before circling the head. “Do you like that, baby?” She asks with an almost innocent look, but her smirk quickly returns. She feels your cock growing in her hands. She breaks her eye contact, glancing down to look at your cock before pulling you toward the bed. She lets you go briefly, laying herself on the bed.

You stand there staring at the beautiful woman get comfortable, watching as Momo moves her legs outwards, a single hand moving along her wet pink slit. “Well? Are you going to make a move?” Momo asks, her other hand moving to her nipple. She pinches her nipple, sucking in a breath before repeating herself. “Are you going to fuck me or not?” She emphasizes her question by spreading her lips apart. You climb onto the bed, crawling over Momo, who smiles at you. She reaches out for you, bringing you in for a kiss, her soft lips melding with yours. “Too slow,” she whispers into your ear before rolling over so she’s on top. “I’ll be the one in charge,” Momo says before playfully slapping your cheek. Shaking her head to let her dark hair move away from her face, Momo glances around the room, happy to see all eyes on her. She gives the people a small wave before returning her focus to you.

Momo rises slowly, grabbing your cock and placing it between her folds. She rocks her hips back and forth, coating your cock with her nectar. You groan, feeling the heat from her cunt as she grinds against you. Momo moans softly, her signature smirk on her face as she massages her breasts, forcing you to watch as she flicks her nipples with her fingers. “Relax a little,” She says as she watches you squirm under her. Momo raises her hips once more, her own desires growing. She aligns your cock with her slit, rubbing the head between her folds before sinking onto it slowly. You throw your head back and moan as Momo’s wall wraps around you, gripping your shaft tightly.

Momo groans, still smiling, as she places her hands on your chest and begins to move. She rises slowly, leaving the head inside her before dropping back down on your cock. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, feeling the head of your cock hit her womb. “That’s it,” Momo says to herself as she moves along your shaft, slamming herself down so she can feel your cock impaling her. The lustful woman looks down at you, “I was right about you,” she says softly as she picks up the pace. Momo leans back, letting the people take in the sight of her body as she rides you. She lets them glimpse at her bouncing breasts for a moment before grabbing you by the wrist and bringing your hands to her chest. Your hands mold the soft flesh as you squeeze her tits.

You can barely think as Momo bounces on your cock; moans flow out of you as the beautiful woman. She continues to drop her full weight on you, getting every inch inside her. Momo’s moans grow louder as time goes on. She reaches between her legs, playing with her clit as she stops to grind on your cock, swiveling her hips. You feel her walls tightening around you. “Oh, I’m going to cum,” Momo moans. She rides you again, bouncing herself on your cock at a slow pace, reveling in the pleasure flowing through her body. Feeling your cock begin to throb inside her, Momo leans over you. “You can let it all out inside me. I want to feel all that hot cum inside me.” Her sultry voice would push you over the edge, but there was more. Momo moves your hands from her tits down to her ass. “Go ahead, fuck me. I know you’re dying to fuck me like an animal.” Your hands dig into her flesh, and you begin to thrust into Momo’s tight cunt. You wouldn’t last long anyway, so you would take full advantage of her wishes.

Momo throws her head back and rocks her hips as you drive your cock deep into her cunt, slamming yourself against her cervix. Momo’s moans grow louder, turning into cries of pleasure. It drew everyone’s attention, and that drove Momo over the edge; having all eyes on her as she came only made it hit her harder. She arched her back, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and tongue wagging as she came on your cock while you came inside her. Momo was on cloud nine as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. She felt all eyes on her; she felt your cum being pumped into her womb. Her entire body was tingling. The moment you came, you held her against your cock, keeping it inside her as you dropped every bit of cum inside her. Momo stayed in her position for what felt like forever. Slowly, she dragged her body forward. Placing her hands on either side of your head, she leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Oh, what a good boy. I knew you were the one.” Momo lifts your hands from her body and slowly rises, your cum dripping out of her cunt as she slowly backs away. “You did such a good job; let me get you all cleaned up.” Between your legs, Momo drags her tongue along your shaft, collecting every drop of cum and tasting herself on your cock. Momo wraps her hand around your cock, pausing for a moment to consider something. After that second, Momo presses her lips against the head before swallowing it. Her lips form a tight seal around your shaft as she bobs her head, taking more in each time she goes down. She’s quickly at the base of your cock, lashing at it with her tongue as she gathers every drop of your baby batter. Momo smirks as she hears you moan her name. Inching back up to the tip, she keeps her hand on your shaft. Once you’re out of her mouth, she strokes your shaft.

You watch as Momo moves closer, placing your cock between her breasts. With a slight chuckle, Momo jokes, “I have to leave it squeaky clean; this is going to be my favorite toy.” She presses her soft mounds together, trapping your cock between them as she moves them along your shaft. You squirm, the pleasure is greater than before, and you are still sensitive from your climax.

“Momo, I’m going to cum,” you groan, trying to warn her.

“Go ahead and paint this pretty face. Someone here is bound to beg to clean me up.” Momo says as she continues to work over your cock. She goes as far as lapping at the tip when it peeks over her mounds. Soon enough, you cum, painting the young woman’s face and chest with your semen. Momo hums in approval as your cock goes limp between her tits. “Good boy. Now, get yourself home and come back any time you want me to take care of you.” You nod along, too tired to argue or think of doing anything else.

Momo lets you go. She lies in her bed with a blissful smile, calling for someone to clean her. As you head to the entrance, you look over your shoulder to see a flock of women throwing themselves at the beautiful woman, each eager to clean her.

Getting home, you lay in bed, thinking about Momo. Your phone buzzes with a text from Sana, “So the experience was good, right? Think you’ll want to go back?” You consider the question before replying that you think you would go back for Momo.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #momo smut

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hitlikehammers · 4 months ago

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Rockstar!Eddie Leaves What He Had With Steve Behind in Hawkins 💔 to Chase His Dreams 🎸

(so why is it that he’s back in Steve’s bed Hawkins every couple months for ‘very pressing reasons’ that are straining Steve’s heart honestly anything but? 🫤❤️‍🩹🥺)

NOTE: this was originally a fill from @eddiemunsonbingo AGES ago, and I’m only bringing it over here NOW because something for the @steddielovemonth is going to be posted soon that is a standalone in its universe, but also very much a sequel to it ♥��

Steve really does try not to think about it in terms of…time.

Maybe that’s foolish. It’s mostly denial. Lots of it isn’t reliable anyway: the score his body keeps isn’t accurate, war-time left over from too many near-misses with a fucking alternate dimension but the popping in his joints and the ringing in his ears and the white hair he pulled out of his scalp and stared blankly at in the sink for a good twenty minutes: those are real things, but they don’t chart the passage of days, of hours, months and fucking years with any real meaning.

It’s been four years. Roughly. Depending on what the start point is. Whether it’s that Spring Break. Whether it’s the first winter. Or the spring after, when Robin begged him to go with her—there’s still time. She still begs, because they still talk given the thread inside them stays tied unbreakable to one another, oblivious to miles between. Maybe it’s measuring from the graduations, the kids—only Erica’s left at Hawkins High, now, though Steve gets calls from the whole bunch of them, Eleven the most, which was maybe surprising, then it’s a good split between Dustin and Will, another surprise. Max calls enough but her calls are calls, with a weight most of the others lack. Lucas’s calls aren’t super frequent but always long, mostly because he talks around the point forever, whatever the point happens to be. Even Mike usually ends up on the other end of the line once a month. It’s…that could be where the time starts from.

Or it could be the summer, that first summer. The one that taught Steve what it was to have a heart just to fucking break it.

Could be that. Impossible to say.

(It’s been 3 years, 7 months, and 14 days. Steve had only counted in retrospect, in the wreckage left behind, because while he’d known there was a deadline in it, to it all, he’d thought he could be enough. That he could change a mind. He’d thought…

Foolish things. Bullshit. Didn’t matter. Could be any fucking date.)

But since the point's come up, and it’s front of Steve’s mind, his least favorite (most favorite) place to find it: he hadn’t expected it. Robin liked to say she saw the signs but. Steve hadn’t watched it happen in slow motion because there wasn’t a single goddamn slow thing about it. Which was…for whatever it was worth, Steve knew falling fast and hard and with everything he was had maybe failed him every time, thus far, but at least he knows that for him?

That means it’s real. He’s all in. He might not be met equal on the other side of the equation—hadn’t been yet, maybe wouldn’t be ever, but he wasn’t having any luck trying to fucking change that fact so, learning to work with what he had was the best he could do. And he had love. He’d never been able to name it to himself so far: not before, and certainly never since. But.

Figuring out the sexuality thing had been a not-bathroom-but-definitely-floor talk on the shitty Family Video carpet sometime around November of ‘85. Slow days, idle comments, and Robin’s suspiciously-but-reliably-gentle-when-the-need-was-dire hand to his shoulder to say no, no: actually wanting to kiss people of any gender wasn’t really…the default Steve had always expected it had to be. How could anyone look at, say, Harrison Ford and not think, oh yeah, I would at least suck his face?

Turned out probably at least half the people on the planet. As in the straight guys and the lesbians. Steve had spent the majority of three days on that disgusting fucking carpet, open to close, popping up to ask Robin if she was sure because what about—

She was sure. And eventually, through a couple of needs for deep breathing and a handful of assurances that it was okay to cry—he appreciated that, but he kept the crying to his room after these long-ass shifts and if Robin stayed for some of those times, that was because she was half his head, half his heart, and she knew what he was going to do sometimes before he did.

They did end up on the floor of his bathroom, a clean one for once, at one point. Maybe because they both held to tradition. Maybe because Steve had largely come to terms with the mindfuck of yet another piece of his world, his self unravelling and rewriting itself, and thought the vodka in his dad’s liquor cabinet was a good way to celebrate. The label was entirely in Russian and Robin had been practicing on hers, said she was pretty sure it was the good shit.

Sometimes you can drink enough of the best shit on an empty stomach, though, and still spew the whole of it up.

Steve sometimes does think he drinks his dad’s best liquor that way on purpose, though. Delightful going down and yeah, it sucks to chuck it up but. The idea that it’s ultimately wasted feels…right.

Anyway: Steve had settled with it all by New Year's, and while he’d hosted the rugrats who could only blabber about their latest campaign with their epic DM, and he’d kissed Robin when the clock turned, well. It felt like a new start, a fresh page.

Something that had the chance at being a good thing.

And nothing much happened in the two-and-a-half-months that followed save for finally catching a glimpse of the D&D god who ran their little club while he was idling in his car to pick up the shitheads, this legendary DM who did not make Steve jealous one tiny bit and who was cool and was edgy and was so fuckin’ cool, Steve, did we tell you got cool he is?! and Steve had said language as monotone as he could before he squinted as out came all the metal and the ink and he’d said your club president dude is Eddie goddamn Munson and he should have kept his mouth shut because the amount of talking that ensued left him with a headache the size of Montana; but.

That was really all that happened until about…mid-March.

Then Spring Break happened.

It could be argued Eddie and Steve grew close enough to pass the acquaintances benchmark, ended up as at least tentative friends on top of necessary battle mates as early as the Upside Down. Whatever reason Eddie gave, he jumped in after Steve. Whatever speech Steve landed on, he didn’t want Dustin orEddie hurt.

It could be argued Steve wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stop in time and landed in the land of Tentative Friends You Wouldn’t Mind Added Benefits With after the…at least after the way Eddie leaned in close and his lips we so red and he called Steve big boy and…

Yeah.

When Steve carries what may or may not be Eddie’s still fucking corpse out of the Upside Down—he can’t tell, every time he tries to check again his own heart's too loud, his own breaths too shaky—but by then, they’re family. Bound in blood. Steve would die for him, like the others. He won’t let him die, if he can fucking help it.

Between him and Max, Steve almost crashes, breaks. Steve’s there when Max’s fingers twitch and he laughs with tears in his eyes and hands over hands and tells her he loves her and he’s sorry and he’s there, tries to talk around the letter he opened and resealed without evidence because Steve knows some tricks too, okay, and her words had broken him but now he could live up to what she thought she was leaving behind, could make sure she had every goddamn thing she thought she was giving up in spades, to roll around in in abundance. He was going to take care of her, whatever she needed. Whatever it took.

Her lips had quirked and the doctors called coincidence, don’t get your hopes up but; Steve knew Max. That was all her.

And there were more tears, he let her fucking feel them; he fucking hoped she’d notice, and remember, and give him so much shit.

Eddie takes longer, pulls out of the woods enough to exhale a few days later, and the way Steve slips out to find the hospital chapel, the only goddamn place he won’t be found by anyone he knows, and bawls his goddamn eyes out?

It’s family, and it’s love because it’s family but…it’s been so quick. It’s been intense, and that probably speeds it along but…

Shit. Shit.

That’s when Steve knows he sets a new goddamn record for himself and falls hard and heavy and stupidin, like, a week and change. Jesus Christ.

It’s in the recovery that they build something though. Something that’s not trauma or terror or the threat of imminent death. Steve spends most of his hours between two hospital rooms listening to progress reports and taking notes and the kids gravitate toward Max—Dustin would have been the outlier but Steve knows he’s not ready, and so he gives his own updates just to his brother when he drives him home after visiting hours—but that means Steve’s Eddie’s most common conversation partner. They talk about bullshit. Steve defends a-ha to the last breath he has. Eddie’s rendered speechless for a second and then frantic when challenged to pick his favorite band. Again when it’s his favorite song, from his favorite band. And again when it’s his favorite song of any song, ever at all. Steve's heart swells in the watching. He’s foolish enough to bask in the glittering of Eddie’s eyes when Steve indulges in talking, scene by scene as guided by the master in the bed beside him, about what his opinions on Star Wars really were. And then guided by no one, just invited to share what his opinions are on the last movie he saw and loved: which was Weird Science, the last movie he watched in a theatre because he and Robin had gone to face their fear or some shit after Starcourt and it was easier than he’d expected. Eddie listens, and nods, and asks if they can rent it when he’s out, before making sure to add but you should really have a new choice like, eight months later, man, you work at a video store.

Steve was mostly just focused on Eddie more than implying, of his own volition, that he wanted to have a movie night.

Eddie’s released before Max, largely for mobility reasons, so they both go to visit her now. Robin’s put on the night shift when they schedule their movie night and Steve immediately moves to reschedule but she says no, she’s seen it, make Eddie suffer this time. So it’s just them.

They sit closer than they have to, on the couch.

And it’s little things that build from there. Max’s physical therapy is a government secret, like some fancy space-age protocol that has real hopes to put her on her feet again so she needs a ride, and while they could take turns, Steve and Eddie just take turns as to which vehicle they hop into to drive her. They stay when she needs them—not when she asks because she’s Max and she never asks—but it ends up three days a week back and forth and during: together.

And a lot of nights, for a movie or a smoke or a nightmare or a pulled stitch before they’re all taken out: together.

And shifts where Steve doesn’t even bother to bring his own lunch because Eddie Munson, unpredictable and wholly forgetful super-super senior—who Nancy and Hopper and most of all Joyce convinced the School would be finishing his final senior year at home save for tests, and only that once he was cleared by his doctors—that Eddie Munson brought Steve something every single time he worked. A burger, a chili dog, chicken fucking nuggets. A PB&J clearly homemade and cut diagonal.

So yeah. It starts out how it does when Steve’s in trouble. But it builds like…Steve’s never known before.

They kiss in May. Maybe so that it’s not their first, and a total cliche, when Steve kisses him for graduation behind the bleachers.

The sleep together after graduation, high on the thrill of it, and that’s maybe a cliche but Steve could not give a shit less.

And then they're EddieandSteve, only to find out they have been for a while; and this is just something a little deeper, a little bit more.

In ways that mean everything.

Looking back, Steve knows Eddie never minced words about his plan to leave Hawkins in the fall. With a mixtape and a prayer if I have to, Stevie-boy, he’d said once even, and Steve had laughed.

He’d fucking laughed.

So he’d known.

But July bleeds into August and Steve…Steve’s in love, okay, for real in a way that he’s never felt before. Right in a way he’s never felt before. He kinda just…overlooks it. Because Eddie seems to be at least on the same wavelength. Touches him first, reaches for him first: wants him. Looks at him with not just desire or attraction but…something no one’s ever looked at Steve with before.

And so he hopes. More than hopes.

But when Eddie starts packing, Steve can’t breathe.

He buys a set of luggage and goes home to start the same, has half of his not-excessive possessions shoved in when he realizes:

He’s not invited. Eddie’s never asked him to come.

Looking back, he’s afraid he wasted too much of those last weeks. Scared of giving too much away, the hurt from so many sides and the heartache that’s already taking root, but also: the way he clings, but tries not to make it obvious.

Fuck; but of course it was gonna be obvious, and how much energy did he waste, how many opportunities slipped by, because Steve was trying not to give away that Eddie leaving—to get away from a town that hated him, to try and make a real go with his music, to be anywhere without Steve so he could live out the dreams that predated Steve, that Steve had no place in—to try not to give away that all of it; it’d fucking destroy him.

Steve doesn’t know, to this day, how he stood and let Eddie kiss him breathless out the driver-side window, how he waved until Eddie was out of sight. He doesn’t know.

Kind of like he doesn’t know how he fucking keeps doing it.

Eddie throws tapes to every radio station with Van Halen or other top-played bands written on the insert in sharpie like that gives nothing away, and sneaks a demo in every underpaid delivery boy’s hands to record executives as he drives to the West Coast, sends Steve postcards what seems like has to be every goddamn day, filled up with his rambling until there’s no space left, has to draw lines around Steve’s address to make it clear where the damn thing’s going lest it get confused. Like they’re SteveandEddie still. Like only…only the things that changed after graduation are gone.

Steve sobs after about a month of it all, grateful and resentful, hateful and still so goddamn full of love it’s sickening. Literally, it makes him feel nauseous. He…

He keeps every postcard.

When one of them comes to say some idiot in San Francisco accidentally played Corroded Coffin on what’s apparently an important station, and Eddie got a letter in response from one of the labels, he says he’s coming back for the boys, they need to be ready. Steve knows he’s not one of the boys, but.

Eddie wouldn’t have told Steve he was coming if it wouldn’t matter to Steve. And maybe Eddie wasn’t in love with him anymore, maybe never was in love with him.

But he’d be lying if he said he thought Eddie didn’t love him. In a different way. A…you-don’t-get-to-come-with-me-but-I’d-still-want-to-see-you-when-I-stop-back kind of way.

And Steve…Steve’s not a fucking monk or anything. But even Robin doesn’t try to push him when he finally just tells her what he feels, lovesick and pathetic as it is:

I gave everything I had to someone else, and it’d be different if I wanted to back, to give again, but…I don’t.

I don’t want it back, not from him. Not if any part of him, wants to keep any part of it.

And because she’s Robin, she knows he means something else when he says ‘it’. And because she’s Robin? She’d push if she thought it was worth it.

She just holds him, and that’s really the best thing he could ask for.

But it becomes a thing. The boys go with Eddie, and they record new shit to impress...whoever. And they do. They come back for Halloween, because Eddie loves it. The label’s dragging its feet, but they’re not deterred, they’re energized. They come back for Thanksgiving because Wayne loves it—except he doesn’t, Steve knows that, Wayne actually hates trying to make a bird and Eddie had lamented more than once that they ended up with lunchmeat cut into cubes one year when Wayne was particularly frustrated with the process. They go out East, and try a few studios in New York. They come back for Christmas.

Eddie spends most of his time with Steve. Steve doesn’t fucking fight that; wants it…like…

There’s nothing to compare how he wants it to. Nothing exists that fits.

Eddie spends most of the time that he spends with Steve, though?

In Steve’s bed.

And here’s the thing: Steve had a decent amount of experience to compare to, but once they’d fallen into a rhythm, got past the awkward bits, the learning curve? Sex with Eddie had been a goddamn revelation. Not just because he was a man—after he’d left, Steve had forced himself to try, and dispelled that possibility quick as hell—and now?

Now, it’s like they never stopped. Every fucking time, it’s like they never stopped.

Steve’s not surprised in the slightest that he remembers every give and tell of Eddie’s body—of course he goddamn does—but that Eddie doesn’t miss a beat in touching, sucking, licking, worshippingSteve’s? That’s insane. That’s…

Unexpected. Every time it’s unexpected and every time Steve’s shown he wasn’t forgotten when he probably should have been. Eddie’s building a life that doesn’t include him.

He’ll only get in the way.

But Steve is selfish and stubborn and maybe it’s often, like almost strangely so, but it’s only a week or two at a go so he tells himself he’s allowed. He tells himself that it felt like making love in the beginning because Steve was in love, and that it still feels exactly the same because Steve…Steve never stopped.

Steve is still just as goddamn in love.

So yeah. Steve sleeps with Eddie and it’s like…it’s like rationed air. He gets a regular taste and he gets to keep breathing.

And it’s okay. Probably more then. Because he gets Eddie—even a little bit. Even just in scraps. When he has Eddie?

He has him, even for moments that were never made to last.

It’s Easter, this time. The band put out their first record in January. It’s doing really well. Eddie’s over the moon. Someone called about a magazine cover for a publication in Cleveland that’s apparently kind of a big deal, Alt..something. Steve will buy every copy in a fucking 100-mile radius. 200 miles. 500—

It’s Easter. Eddie didn’t lament not celebrating it after Spring Break in ‘86 but he’s back every year now. And if it’s just…come to mean something, or maybe did then and circumstances won out against it? Steve will be here. Steve will be comfort and a reprieve or a hot as hell romp with a familiar body, Steve will…

Yeah. Steve will do whatever’s needed. Wanted. Anything.

Pathetic.

But so much better than nothing.

Case in point: they’re both naked, sweat mostly dried, sharing a joint and it’s comfortable. It’s quiet and gentle and put up against sitting alone on a weeknight, not with Eddie?

It’s heaven.

“So when’s the dream happening?”

Steve looks cross-eyed toward his lips; he hasn’t smoked this thing long enough to have heard wrong. He squints up at Eddie, whose chest he’s laid out on, confused. Offers him the smoke but he waves it away.

“The dream?” Steve asks finally, when Eddie doesn’t seem to want to answer on his own.

Eddie looks at him weird. Not weird for its own sake but like: like he’s staring into him, and then like he’s disbelieving, but then also like he’s seeing him for the first time.

That kind of weird.

“Getting the fuck out of here,” Eddie answers like it’s obvious. “White picket fence. Little nuggets.” He spreads his hands as wide as possible without tossing Steve from where he lies. “See the sights.”

And Steve’s response is immediate. Doesn’t even require a thought.

He laughs. Like, ugly-laughs.

“Man,” he shakes his head as he catches his breath, and passes the joint off this time with purpose, not an offer or a choice as he snorts a little; “that’s not the dream.”

When Eddie doesn’t grab the smoke, Steve finally looks up. Eddie…

Eddie looks like what Steve’s always struggled to understand the word ‘poleaxed’ to mean. He thinks it might be this.

He looks…like something stuck him through the gut. Slapped him silly across the face.

“What d’ya mean?” And it’s just three words, one that’s a cheat, and he says it slow enough to take an age.

Steve breathes out, and then, if he’s gonna be honest, and if he has to keep holding the damn thing anyway, decides to take another drag before speaking:

“Figured out what the dream was, inside the dream,” Steve says, wondering if he’ll get away with the vagary; knowing he won’t.

“All we see or seem?” Eddie jokes a little, but it falls flat, his tone eerily kinda…strained but hollow.

“I like poetry.” Steve smiles up at him, soft, and offers the joint again straight to Eddie’s lips. He takes it this time.

“It was about family. It was about stability, not,” Steve shakes his head, stops talking half-assed around the lungful he’s holding, and lets it out slow; “not in a place, fuck, not in a house, but,” a person he doesn’t say, but he hears it in his head; “it was about sharing it.”

And that's it. That’s the simplest, most straightforward truth. Steve doesn’t think there’s anything complicated, or offensive in it. Hard to swallow. Even if he’s come to terms with it. Is mostly at peace with it.

Which is why it’s weird, that Eddie feels suddenly rigid beneath him.

So Steve turns, and braces his hand on Eddie's chest for balance, and frowns when he doesn’t even have to push down to feel the way his heart’s a fucking riot.

“What?” Steve asks, gentle; Eddie’s face is a portrait of conflict, of distress and Steve can’t fucking figure out why, they just came like four times between them and are sharing some very nice Cali weed—they’re nestled close, they’re together, it’s…

Eddie’s quiet, his breath disconcertingly steady for how his pulse pounds, and then he breathes out slow before covering his face:

“I don’t think I can fuck this up any worse than I already have, so,” he mutters, dejected for reasons Steve can’t even guess, then he laughs, humorless, shakes his head:

“Let me try, I guess.”

Steve frowns, uncomprehending, until:

“I’ve been in love with you forever.”

Steve thinks the world stops. His heart does, at least. Suspended. Silent so he doesn’t miss a syllable.

“And I told myself,” Eddie bites at his lip, worries at the bottom swell; “end of that summer, from the very first, I said: don’t ask him to come with you, even if it breaks your heart,” and oh god, oh god after all this time: Steve doesn’t think he’s projecting to hear the genuinely broken heart in those words for just remembering.

“Don’t ask him to settle, you’re not even in the same universe of what he wants,” fuck, what lies Eddie’s saying; did he believe them? Has he always—“what he needs.”

But Eddie is everything he needs, always was, will always be—

“You’ll never have the picket fence. You can’t give him his nuggets. You should never be trusted to park a Winnebago.”

They could have had a shitty studio apartment. They could have had the kids in college. They could have run the BMW until it died, or sold it to put toward a better van for equipment. They could have—

“You’re selfish, Munson, you’re a rat fucking bastard but,” Eddie’s still going, heart still hammering under Steve’s touch even as Eddie swallows hard and fails to smile, looks ill with the attempt like it hurts to try: “you love him too much for that.”

Oh. Oh god.

“It didn’t break my heart, though,” Eddie clears his throat and glances away, to the ceiling, eyes too bright: oh fuck; “broke my goddamn soul,” and a tear falls, and Steve can’t help but wipe it away, and kiss the track. Even just once.

So he does.

“When I saw you again that first time back,” Eddie starts again, voice rougher and shakier as he reaches a hand for Steve’s. “I could have asked the boys to fly out, the execs offered, but,” and this time, the attempt to grin is more successful, like a weight’s lifted from it: “and you smiled at me, it felt like,” and when he shakes his head this time it’s for disbelief, but the kind that comes with awe; “and when we slotted back together like we’d never been apart, it was…”

Eddie’s voice trails, but it cracks at the end—Steve doesn’t know which does more to stop his words.

He’s grateful, relieved, when they come back. He’s powerless but to give when Eddie touches his cheek so gentle and breathes:

“And I had to tell myself again, and again,” he murmurs, stroking Steve’s skin like he’s precious: “you love him too much to take his dream away from him.”

“What did it matter?” Steve can’t help but ask, no malice in it, just the need to understand. “You had your dream, you have—“

They have a contract. They have an album climbing the charts. They’re not just on their way—they’re there. The only next step is to get bigger, and bigger, and—

“Dreams within dreams, wasn’t it?” Eddie murmurs close to Steve’s cheek, where maybe he’s pressing to be close, or maybe he’s hiding a little, so Steve strokes his hair because he can either way and relishes how Eddie leans, melts into it like always. “Inside the dream?”

Steve nods, more to encourage more words. More Eddie.

“Break my dream open and there’s you with me, every step,” Eddie whispers, his lips warm on Steve’s skin. “Break my heart open, same damn thing,” and that causes Steve to shudder, and his heart to pick up now, too. “Both just kinda crumble if you take out the center.”

Steve can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Wants to. Doesn’t think they’re lies. It’s just, he…

“Those,” Steve tries to speak but his voice cracks; he clears his throat and kicks his lips while he tucks Eddie into his neck, under his chin: “those would be good lyrics.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head and nuzzles Steve’s throat with the motion and this can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening, can it?

“No, those words were only ever meant just for you.”

And Eddie kisses the pulse point close to his mouth and holds there, like a sentry and a miser, and holy shit.

Holy shit.

“And I don’t know,” Eddie’s saying more, but it’s pitchy, thready, like he’s barely holding the words together at all; “I don’t know if it’s nostalgia, or convenience, or routine,” his voice breaks again and the sob’s in the word when it comes even if it’s not streaming down on his cheeks: “pity,” and no, no, not fucking ever, how—

“I was never your dream then, and I don’t even know if I can be your inside-dream now, and,” Eddie’s rambling, and he does that when he’s desperate, when he’s overwhelmed and overfull with feeling—and Steve knows that. Steve knows that about him.

Steve knows. Better than he knows himself, Steve still knows him.

“I just want the world for you,” Eddie whispers, stroking up and down Steve’s jaw; “my sweetheart. My sunshine,” he smiles so real and soft and Steve melts, like the heart in his chest starts spilling through his ribs, warm and liquid: “you deserve more than the world, more than fuckin’ me and I,” Eddie shakes his head again, more this time like he’s stopping himself, like it’s a defense mechanism and Steve reaches for his cheeks, broad palms on either side to hold him still because…he doesn’t want Eddie to stop.

Ever.

“Did I ruin it?” Eddie breathes, and barely at that, eyes so wide and swimming and oh, god; “did I—"

And Steve can’t help it. He can’t help but kiss him with all he’s got, even if it couldn’t be all Eddie’s worth in all the world. Steve can’t contain all that Eddie’s worth.

But he can give everything, because this is the man who already has it.

“What the hell was I supposed to be to a rockstar?” Steve tries to talk through his own tight throat, his own growing smile, his own threat of tears bubbling close to the surface. “How the fuck was I ever going to measure up, ever do anything but hold you back when you could have—“

“I come back to you, for you,” Eddie answers immediate; it’s not what Steve’s asking but he won’t lie and say he didn’t want to know, at least a little. “The handful of times I’ve tried,” Eddie shakes his head once now, definitive; “I have always left my everything with you.”

The idea that Steve’s spent all this time feeling empty, and hollow, and missing the best of himself where it lived in the man he loved—the idea he was wrong, that they both were so fucking wrong is…insanity.

“I had a bag half packed.”

Steve doesn’t need to explain further. The noise Eddie makes is pure pain.

“Baby,” he nearly croons, falls into Steve somehow closer, wraps him up tighter; “I wanted to kidnap you in the night.”

“I sobbed in my bed after you were out of sight.”

“I pulled over before the town sign, because I couldn’t see the goddamn road.”

And Steve…Steve doesn’t really have a decision to make about what he says next. What dream he wants; always has.

“I never got rid of the luggage.”

And Eddie hears everything he says in those words, because after everything, Eddie Munson knows him, and…yeah.

Steve’s been kissed in a lot of ways before. By this man in particular, even.

But this: if leaving broke Eddie’s soul, if somehow the lack of Steve somehow did that?

This is…this is the body meeting another body, heart to heart and tasting the way a soul slides back in place. It's Eddie’s hands in his hair like hell never let go and he’s happy about the idea; blissful for it, even. It’s—beyond anything Steve’s ever known. So: yeah.

It’s not a decision. It’s just a fucking given.

♥️

🎸also on ao3

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #post s5 #angst with a happy ending #miscommunication #romance #tenderness #fluff #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington stays in hawkins #fuck buddy #but does it count if you’re exes and your still friends and you do it all the time?#like it can’t even be reunion sex because one party is always finding and excuse to come back #and it can’t even be make-up sex because they didn’t FIGHT they just…were DONE #chasing your dreams #(and recognizing when those dreams sometimes change)#yes eddie walked away from a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love #(he had his reasons I promise)#yes he makes detours to hawkins almost confusingly often for a successful musician 🤨#(YES he ends up in steve’s bed every time)#happy ending #stranger things #eddie munson bingo #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

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demonslayedher · 3 months ago

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So this clears the air--Sabito makes a roundabout acknowledgment of Giyuu feeling he did not prove himself, while also saving face for Murata, whom Sabito is grateful to. Giyuu understands Sabito's intentions, so he chooses not to argue and just do his best to accept being a Corp member. Murata also catches on to what Sabito meant, but Murata is also easy to mess with, so Sabito can't help himself with the opportunity to tease Murata by keeping his surname a secret (after Murata leaves the room, he warns Giyuu never to tell him). Murata knows what's up, so he retaliates by telling everyone who knows it to never to let Sabito know his personal name (and that is how I got around the name issue for this fun and stupid and short little fix-it AU).

So anyway, Sabito's arms got shattered when he broke the very hard neck of the Hand Demon, so he hangs out with Urokodaki during the long recovery, whereas Giyuu heals up quick and starts going on missions as soon as his sword is ready. On his first mission, he happens to take down a really, really impressive demon, and this rookie is suddenly the talk of the Corp (which Giyuu finds kinda unsettling, especially since the Final Selection shame is still fresh).

Sabito is proud of him, really--he just always thought they'd go on that first mission or two together, that's all. Sitting around and healing is making him irritable.

But he eventually does heal and they do eventually go on a bunch of missions together, as well as their own solo missions, as well as missions with Murata. Thanks to how easily Sabito cleared the air after the Final Selection, Murata is very comfortable with both of them and likes hanging out with them. The Sabito-Murata-Giyuu ranking system is an ongoing joke. At least, for Sabito and Murata it's a joke.

Yeah, it is rough to work as hard as Murata does and then have two friends like that. But if anyone can handle that and not feel his masculinity threatened, it's Murata.

And like, Murata's cultivator had to have known of Urokodaki. Maybe he even had a huge inferiority complex. Maybe Murata's cultivator has a dark and petty side, somehow taking satisfaction that at least he could train students to survive the Final Selection whereas for so many years, Urokodaki never could. That would be a very interesting angle to explore, especially for what it might say about Murata recognizing that darkness in a man he respects so much, but choosing not to carry that darkness himself. But this is a light and fun and stupid fix-it AU, there is no room for that here.

Sabito and Giyuu often train together, with Sabito never ever going easy on Giyuu, but Giyuu always seemingly effortlessly able to keep up. Sabito, recognizing that Murata is frustrated with his own limits, offers to train with him too. It is quickly apparent that the series of whacks is getting Murata nowhere, and Murata knows it, but he doesn't give up. This is why Sabito has a lot of respect for Murata. He's a man.

He's also easy to tease.

Sabito is shocked--he had no idea Giyuu was ever so close to attaining that, or how quickly Giyuu rose in the first place (Sabito of course has risen almost as quickly).

Giyuu is bashful and awkward about it, since he knows how much of a surprise it will probably come as. After all, he more or less kept his position a secret all this time. He kind of expects Sabito to be mad. Also, Giyuu believes from the very core of his being that had Sabito not injured his arms and they started going on missions at the very same time, Sabito would absolutely be the one in the Water Hashira position. Another reason that Giyuu expects Sabito to be mad.

Sabito is surprised, yes, but he wasn't exactly... mad. He's proud of Giyuu, but kind of hurt that Giyuu was so shifty about it. But anyway, he tries to congratulate Giyuu, but since Giyuu is acting like Sabito should be mad, well, it makes Sabito mad. A Hashira shouldn't be all mopey like that!

Anyway, Murata is aware of all this, he finds this breakdown of communication super awkward. He somewhat friendly, somewhat formally offers Giyuu congratulations, but then tends to hang out a bit more with Sabito (easy to hang out with a fellow non-Hashira, after all). He wants to make sure Sabito is alright (since a part of him wonders if Sabito is mad about Giyuu attaining that rank instead of him), and this provides Sabito the man-to-man opportunity to talk about his feelings and why this all feels so surprising, and kind of strange. Murata gets Sabito's side of the story about them becoming friends and training together on Mt. Sagiri, and how Sabito always felt he had to look out for Giyuu, and like he was the older/stronger/more willful/manlier one in the relationship. At some level, he always wanted to protect Giyuu, not be protected by him. (They have totally watched each other's back plenty in battle by this point.)

Murata hears Sabito out, but makes sure to push him to work things out so that he and Giyuu can be back on friendly terms. They have an important friendship--and Sabito must treasure it, for those sorts of friendships don't last long in this Corp. Plus, he's certain that Giyuu treasures it too.

Giyuu, all by himself (typical Water Hashira behavior), is really bothered by the distance he caused between himself and Sabito, and he really wants to bridge the gap. He finally gets an idea.

Giyuu had been admiring how nice it was for Kanae that she got to keep her sister around all the time for company since she was her Tsuguko, plus, it's a formal way of appointing someone with the skills to be a Hashira, so Giyuu thought that would show his respect for Sabito too. But yeah, there's still the issue of how a Hashira lords over a Tsuguko, so Giyuu totally blames himself for having insulted Sabito like that. So much for their friendship, Giyuu will just embrace being all alone, going along his Hashira duties like nothing else matters, certainly not himself...

...meh, but that doesn't last for long, because Murata helps push them along to talk things out. Giyuu immediately apologizes for having taken the Water Hashira role that rightfully should have been Sabito's. Sabito insists that Giyuu is the right person for the role, and that he has always, always acknowledged Giyuu's talent.

When Giyuu tries to insist his skills are nothing compared to Sabito's strength, Sabito stops him and insists that Water Breath takes many forms. Giyuu's finesse is like a deep, still lake that rises like a tidal wave to swallow enemies whole--it is so far beyond the average Water Breath user's gentle sprinkle of water (Murata is totally hearing all of this and not pleased).

Giyuu takes this chance to explain that he offered the Tsuguko position to Sabito because he already sees him having Hashira caliber and just wanted a reason for them to go on missions together. Sabito gives Giyuu that bittersweet smile, but says that the Tsuguko position would be wasted, for he'd have nothing to learn from Giyuu. His own Water Breath is too different, too thrashing and active to benefit from learning from Giyuu's patient style. Sabito must follow his own path.

Instead, he hopes that Giyuu will instead take great care of Murata, who surely stands to learn a great deal from Giyuu as a Tsuguko. Giyuu doesn't know what to say, but his heart leaps at the realization that he truly is a Hashira, and that even he is capable of raising a true Tsuguko.

Murata is standing beside them, gaping, for no one ever asked him his thoughts about this.

Anyway. Nobody dies. Sabito is miffed about Tanjiro moving through training so quickly with one-on-one attention from Urokodaki that is too loving and gentle so he insists that Tanjiro not go to the Final Selection until he can break the rock (which Urokodaki finds ridiculous, because that was only ever a formality, but hey, Sabito knows a thing or two about surviving the Final Selection so Urokodaki says 'fine' and leaves Tanjiro at the rock for a year). Murata never really gets that much better, but he does benefit from training with Giyuu. They're all friends forever and ever. The end.

#KnY fix it AU #oh boy it's been a long time since I did one of these #the art is as stupid as ever but I sure had fun with some of those tiny dumb little faces #my dumb art #murata #sabito #tomioka giyu #tomioka giyuu #it's meant to be bromance but I suppose you could also read or tag it as #sabigiyu #sorry Murata you are friendzoned no matter how people read it

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beeeeandpuppycat · 5 months ago

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That Leon s(lut) Kennedy smut alph I promised (I forgot so it took me months >:[)

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

No in-between he's either leaving you in bed alone to go work or your gonna wake up snuggled in two strong arms pushed against his chest

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Belly!I can imagine him nuzzling his face into his partners belly in a tired manner after he had a long day

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ALOT I mean I can imagine he doesn't do it that often so it comes out in one big go! Like doing it on ur face even if he acts embarrassed

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a bunch of old shitty porn comics under his bed cause he's too embarrassed to actually buy more

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In-between I mean he's good but considering he doesn't so it much he isn't the best in the world. Still makes the best effort ♡

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LAP . You sitting on his lap with ur back facing him. His arms wrapped round you for support and his face down in the crook of your neck.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's usually serious himself. Most the time your more goofy seeing this strong man all blush and flustered. Ending with some lil jokes

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's pretty well groomed ? I mean look in the future he dyes his hair and everything. Straight and a pale blonde. A pretty sight to the eyes!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a cutie. ^^ not necessarily words of passion or even insults he's usually quiet. But romantic where he holds your waist as tight as possible making sure your as close as you can be.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Does it all secretly cause I know he'd be embarrassed about it . Taking more precautions then he should. Tho at some point he got too pent up and had to do it in some dirty club bathroom :/ (poor leon)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink ! More partner complimenting him. It feels nice knowing they really appreciate him. Plus size kink! Both ways. When his partner is taller or shorter. Either way he's getting flustered

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers in the safety of his own home. Hotel rooms mostly places you guys can't be caught . He enjoys the adrenaline but he rather not be seen with his dick out

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Simple touch. Something like a little glance to just your fingers touching when you pass him a pen. The simple jump of his heart when acts like that happen makes this man happy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with another person. Even if you would ask he'd end up being uncomfortable

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving.! Of course he tries to give.. but most the time it's not overly good? And he likes the view of seeing you between his thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends. Most the time nice and slow. Taking rather deep thrust each time to savor it. If you guys haven't done it in a long time due to him leaving etc? As fast as he can. Most the time it ends with his hips hurting.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan! If your not gonna take your time and enjoy it what's the point of even doing it? He might if it's before he's going on a long trip

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah! But his partner would have to bring it up. Or else he doesn't really get put his comfort zone

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

BIG. Big stamina(just like his dic-) what do you expect? Look at this man's muscles. I just know he's able to do it long enough till their partner turns to a rag doll

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No>:[ tho poor guy was rather embarrassed when he came home to see his partner using one on themselves. Atleast he knows your not lonely when he's gone? Can't imagine him really using them on himself more his partner.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually he's the one being teased. Tho don't take it too far- it would end with him getting pent up and just doing it himself. (Head down ass up)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet. Small little groups and deep breaths on in a while. Long pants- and occasionally whimpers if you reallyyyy try!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

At some point when he rent to work he kept seeing this group of cats. It became his routine to bring snacks for them on his way to work! Tho at some point the lil meow meows disappeared. Everything he goes to work he still looks around wondering if they came back

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Just a little bit above average ! Pale with a pretty bubble gum tip and a lil vein going down the bottom. A slight curve in the middle.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not all that high. At some point he became used to not having sex. Tho- after getting with you it definitely became higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Silly man falls right asleep. He doesn't really know when to stop so it ends with him just passing himself out at the end

Finally did it!!

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lionhanie · 5 months ago

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study with boynextdoor! (ot6 hc + drabbles)

….ranked from best to worst study buddies 😅

classmate!boynextdoor x gn!reader (college au)

word count: 3.4k (~500-700 each)

warnings: TW SCHOOL 👎, written in lowercase, there’s a curse word here and there…, No Beta We Die Like Men (not proofread very well lmao)

a/n: wrote this while i was procrastinating studying for my final exams :,) soooo these r self indulgent hoohohoh ... enjoy :3

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･sungho

tbh i feel like he’s the type to not study and just. be perfect idk

sungho pays attention in class so he doesn’t feel the need to review extensively before the exam … COULD NOT BE ME!!!!

with that being said tho, he’s the perfect tutor ^_^

sungho will definitely be right by your side as you’re doing the exam review packet, waiting to see if you get stumped on a particular question

when you do, he walks you through the steps you got stuck on, making sure you /actually/ understand the content rather than just doing whatever he tells you to do

and if he isn’t able to be physically there with you, he will literally be on standby bc he’s so used to you calling him for help the night before the exam :,)

he is SO patient too. especially because he sees how hard you’re working and he just wants to see all of your hard work pay off

sometimes you’ll feel bad because you feel like you’re taking up too much of his time just because you don’t understand the material

but he’s so quick to reassure you about it all bc he genuinely doesn’t mind, and he will MAKE SURE you know that

✐ᝰ

you place your head into your hands for the nth time that night, groaning at the way you can’t seem to memorize the right definitions. sungho chuckles from the other side of the phone, knowing exactly how you look despite not being able to see you right now. “everything okay over there?”

“i’ve been studying for so long and it still doesn’t make any sense,” taking a look at the time, you realize it’s later than you expected. “you know, you really don’t need to help me study right?”

“how many times do i have to tell you that–”

“yeah, i know you don’t mind, but i always feel bad keeping you awake any later than you need to be.” of course you’d take all the help you could get, but you don’t have it in you to hold him hostage again for the sake of your grade. “...goodnight, sungho!” you end the call before he has any chance to reassure you any further.

…you’re not surprised when you get a knock on your door 20 minutes later, opening it to see sungho with a bunch of snacks in one hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder. “are you still going to turn me down after i went through all the trouble of coming over?”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jaehyun

he’s so annoying to study with (endearingly) but i feel like a study sesh with him would guarantee you are getting a good grade on your exams

since he’s so hardworking i feel like he’d immediately call you out if you were getting sidetracked when you weren’t supposed to be

or if he doesn’t…. him being Ultra Locked In only makes You feel like you Also need to be Ultra Locked In

it’s honestly kind of scary how On Top Of Business jae can be when he needs to study…. bc he’s normally pretty hyper Every Other Time, you didn’t know he was capable of being so quiet for an extended period of time

it’s suuuuper impressive how seriously he takes his studies though… sometimes you’ll stop him when you have a question about something and he’ll explain it with EASE before immediately getting back into the zone

bad news for yappers because jaehyun is NOT entertaining the conversation unless he is Also taking a break. if anything he might even be the type to side-eye the people being too loud in the library because he doesn’t want them to distract you

honestly though it’ll probably help you get a lot more done

even though he studies like his life depends on it, i think he’s really good when it comes to balancing the work so your brain isn’t fried too quickly

i fully believe he will like. have some weird ass Study “Hacks” that lowkey make no sense but you entertain them bc he’s a cutiepatootie :3

✐ᝰ

the rustling from the other side of the table takes your attention away from your laptop, taking off one earbud before asking the boy across from you what he was doing. jaehyun doesn’t turn to answer, instead continuing to dig through the various compartments of his backpack for who knows what. “you know about superfoods and stuff?”

“...yeah? what does that have to do with what we’re studying though?” you let out a soft laugh, unsure about where he’s going with this conversation.

“well, i heard that if you eat five almonds everyday it makes you smarter. there was a study on it and everything, i swear.” you raise your eyebrow at his words, finding it hard not to roll your eyes at the ridiculous “fact” he just proposed. moments later, he’s plopping a ziploc bag full of almonds in the middle of the table, looking incredibly satisfied with himself.

you watch as he counts five almonds for the both of you, motioning for your hand to pass your portion over. “why don’t we just eat a ton of almonds so we become geniuses?” you move to reach for the bag to grab more, before he snatches it away from you.

“no, we can’t do that. the limit is five almonds, or else it starts reversing the effects,” jaehyun tosses an almond into the air and catches it with his mouth. “or something like that, i didn’t actually read the study.” he grins at you from his side of the table, making you laugh in disbelief before resuming your work, almonds by your side.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ taesan

personally i think taesan is the type to just. periodically check in from time to time while you’re studying

he seems like the type to focus best when he’s completely in his own space, so he wants to give you that same space (especially if he’s working on music, he doesn’t want to bother you with the noise)

….but that doesn’t mean he’s completely ignoring you while you’re out in the living room hunched over all your papers

he’d probably ask if you wanted to do the pomodoro method with him LMFAOOO like. you do work for 50 minutes and then u get a 10 min break

it honestly helps make the work go by faster bc you’re just looking forward to your next break w/ him :,)

when the fifty minutes is up and it’s time for both of your breaks, he’s so excited to come out of his room and just Recharge with you. simply seeing you quite literally gives him enough energy to go back to whatever he’s currently working on

if he found you too burnt out from studying for so long, he’d make an exception to his rules & he’d let you take a longer break bc he knows how much effort you’ve been putting into prepping for your tests

✐ᝰ

you were only halfway into your fifty-minute work interval, but taesan could sense something was wrong when he left his room to get some water. instead of taking notes like you were earlier, your pen was left abandoned on the side of your textbook as you frowned down onto the blur of words you were trying to take in.

taesan knows how hard it is to keep working when you hit a mental roadblock– he knows how badly you need to study right now, but it’ll be no use trying to force yourself when you clearly need to step away. he peeks around the corner, clearing his throat to catch your attention.

“hm?” you tilt your head as you look up from your notebook, frustration clearly written all over your face. it almost pains him to see you so stressed over exams. “is it time for break already? i could’ve sworn i just started–”

“maybe you just got so into it that you didn’t realize how much time passed,” he bluffs, walking up to the table. “do you want to see what i’ve been working on? i feel like i need a second opinion on it, something isn’t quite right with the melodies.”

taesan finds it cute how your face lights up immediately; you were clearly looking for any excuse to walk away from your work, but you knew you’d feel guilty if you had no good reason to do so. since taesan really needs your help, it’s fine… right?

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ leehan

idk something makes me feel like leehan just dgaf LOLOLOL but he’s definitely not going to bother you much unless you’re taking a break or something

i don’t think he puts too much effort into studying but he’s definitely just going to be in your general vicinity so you don’t get too lonely looking at your computer screen for so long… he’s just there in spirit

if u were in the same class & u asked him what Something Meant… he genuinely could not tell you unless it was about a topic he was actually interested in. bro just has his laptop open to feel included yk

i think he’d be the type to see you frustrated over whatever concept you can’t seem to get right & literally Make You take a break so you can clear your mind

you didn’t realize it while you were too focused on doing work, but he’s constantly been catering to your every need so you don’t get distracted

like he made sure your water bottle was refilled every time you finished it

turned up the heat in the apartment when he noticed you shivering

opening curtains so the sun lights up your workspace n makes it less stuffy :,)

i totally see him as the type to stay up as long as you are, even if he isn’t studying with you

again. just the idea of him wanting to keep you company so you don’t feel lonely ARRGHHHHH

like maybe he’s just sitting at the table w/ you as he watches u do work (like a freako) ((I need him so bad))

even if he falls asleep in the process… at least he’s nearby in case you need him…. (he wakes up every now and then to make sure you’re doing OK)

✐ᝰ

you can’t help but turn around when you hear all the commotion your friend (he’s in love w/ you btw) is currently making in the kitchen behind you. sensing your gaze, he looks back slowly, giving you a sheepish smile. “i know i’m being loud, but i’m doing this for you, okay?”

before you get the chance to question what he meant, he’s balancing a tray in his hands as he makes his way over to your desk. it’s adorned with anything you could possibly want during your study session– a steaming cup of tea, a plate of fresh fruit cut into cute shapes, a bag of your favorite chips, some of the gummies you two were sharing earlier, and even a bottle of painkillers for the eventual headache you’ll get from looking at the screen for too long.

you could honestly cry; it wasn’t a grand gesture, but you’ve been so overwhelmed trying to meet all the deadlines you’d made for yourself recently that you’ve been neglecting your own needs in the process. leehan’s clearly proud of himself as he takes a seat next to you, resting his head on his palm as he watches you. “you’re not gonna study with me?” you question, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth as you look at him. after all, you did ask to study together.

“i was kind of hoping being next to you while you reviewed would transfer all the knowledge to me.” his eyes turn to crescents as he grins at you. you guess that works too.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ riwoo

riwoo would prefer to do work specifically at home bc he likes to be comfy if he’s gonna spend a majority of the day studying

with this being said tho… he’s restless. he moves every hour bc it claims it helps him focus if he changes up his surroundings every once in a while

def going to put on some music and maybe light some candles so you aren’t too miserable trying to learn so much content the day before the exam … he’s all for setting the vibes PERFECT for the study sesh

i like to think riwoo has like. a system he uses to keep the both of you motivated while studying (i do this. im projecting)

like…. if you both get the next 10 practice problems right… you can share the slice of cake waiting in fridge LOL or maybe if you finish writing one more paragraph of your essay, then you can go lay in bed for seven minutes idk i think he’d be really random with it

riwoo always says that you guys are gonna take a “short” break but it usually ends up 3x longer than you intended

he’d say “maybe we should take the dogs for a walk to get a breather before getting back to work”

and then you come back 40 minutes later bc you two got distracted letting daebak and jangyi play with all the other dogs in the park T_T

he’s 100% the type to try and discreetly watch tiktok or something when you’re both supposed to be doing work and it plays on full volume (woonhak would too but he would not try to hide it)

honestly i feel like he’d get tired of his own studies at some point, but i know he’d stay with you to help you review or just to encourage you to keep going <3

✐ᝰ

you’re welcomed with warm lighting and the sweet aroma of a seasonal candle as riwoo opens his front door, daebak in his arms and jjangyi wandering around the room behind him. it’s a familiar environment; you’ve gotten used to doing work with riwoo in the comfort of his own home, finding it much easier to focus there than any of the popular study spots on campus.

you’re sitting at the dining table, one paragraph of your essay on the verge of completion. riwoo is sprawled across the couch, his laptop laying haphazardly on his chest as he swipes across the trackpad. “do you remember that takeout place we passed by last week? i was thinking we should order some later once we get hungry!”

“...are you looking at the menu right now?”

“well, no…” you glance at him from your seat, clearly doubtful. “...okay, maybe i am. i can’t focus when all i can think about is how good it smelled walking by the place!” he groans, shutting his laptop and placing it on the coffee table beside him before moving to a more comfortable position on his couch.

he’s so quiet that you almost forget he’s there when you’re locked into your essay, snapped out of your zone when he sighs dramatically, not having moved an inch since you last looked at him. you’re not sure why he’s the one in distress when he hasn’t touched his laptop in nearly forty minutes.

“y/nnnnn…. i don’t wanna study for my classes,” you don’t have it in you to scold him, especially when he’s the one letting you work at his place to begin with, but you can’t just let him do nothing the whole time. “can you take a break so i don’t die of boredom over here?”

“okay, how about you come over here and help me proofread my paper, then we can get food once i finish?” he makes his way over to you, using his socks to slide across the wooden floors in the process, more than happy to occupy himself with something if it meant he got to hang out with you afterwards!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ woonhak

finals season with woonhak honestly seems like it would be hell LMFAOOOOOO

genuinely i think he’s the last person i’d ask to study just because i feel like procrastinator x procrastinator is a DEAD END!!!

no shade but the chances of both of you locking in at the same time are little to NONE.

trying to be accountability buddies for each other genuinely doesn’t work because. he just doesn’t want to study ☠️

bro is definitely trying to convince you that you don’t need to study (you desperately do)

and even IF…. you guys both start working…. it genuinely doesn’t last long LOLOLOL

woonhak literally cannot shut the hell up when he’s doing work for some reason. everything needs to have some sort of commentary, even if you guys aren’t even studying for the same class

if you didn’t also Need To Study, it’d be pretty funny to hear him complaining about getting every other question wrong…. and his periodic comments are NOT helping 😭

but bc of that i think he’s the most willing to stay up late with you to study just because you wasted so much time doing Who Knows What that you both feel like you need to pull an all nighter if you want to pass that test YIKES

u eventually both feel SO GUILTY bc you wasted so much time doing NOTHING productive and it’s already 11pm…. guess you have to make up for it by ACTUALLY being productive until 4am . . . .

the urgency finally kicks in and you actually ARE clocked tf in until you’re literally forced to get out of the library

✐ᝰ

the security guard working the front desk at the library gives the two of you a quizzical look as you walk through the doors at 11:37pm, whereas most of the other students tend to wrap up their studies around this time. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and woonhak– you knew what you were getting yourself into when you first texted him asking him if he was free to study earlier in the day.

just a couple hours ago, the two of you were seated on the floor of his dorm, pages of notes sprawled across the carpet in a pathetic attempt to try and make a game plan for a semesters-worth of material you had to learn before the final tomorrow. it was almost laughable the way neither of you could make sense of the content in front of you.

“how is it that we’ve gone to every lecture and we still don’t know what’s going on?” it’s a useless question, given that neither of you are capable of providing any sort of explanation.

“have you seen that video where they rub their notes on their heads to try and send the information to your brain–”

“woonhak, you know that doesn’t actually work, right?”

“right. i just wanted to know if you saw it too. haha.” there’s an air of silence between you two as you both realize how screwed you actually are for the test, but nobody dares to speak it into existence. “should we go to the arcade before we start studying?”

…and that’s how you found yourself set up in one of the booths in the far corner of the library (obviously after wasting three hours and twenty bucks at the claw machines), the tabletop adorned with a jumbled mix of your shared review problems, scrap paper balled up in a growing pile, and two freshly-opened energy drinks. you’re both lucky that the library doesn’t close for another couple hours, you needed all the time you could get to try and burn the information into your brains.

when you walk out of the exam room, seeing woonhak laying on a bench outside & using his backpack as a makeshift pillow as he waits for you to finish, you can’t help at chuckle at the look of defeat on his face. it’s funny the way your eye bags match his own; you’ve definitely seen each other at your lowest at this point.

“so…how do you think you did?”

“can we talk about this after i take a nap at your dorm for, i don’t know, three days?”

“deal.”

217 notes · View notes

raynavan · 15 days ago

Note

Hi recently i read ur fic "bat tunnels" and you mentioned you have thoughts but not enough to write more, and that readers are (and i quote) "free to poke me about it on my tumblr tho!"

i would like to hear the thoughts

Bat tunnels!! This is actually just one of the Many fics I have with Ingo turning into some sort of Pokémon- and by far the shortest haha. Even if that's only because I wasn’t sure how to handle the subsequent events. I have a Lot of fics I’m chipping away at atm

(This turned into a bit more of a ramble than I was expecting. Whoops.)

Anyway- big thing I wasn’t sure how to explain was why Ingo is a pokemon in the first place. Arceus knew that humans can’t travel through time and space very well, and Arceus didn’t want him to like. Forget everything a second time. But Pokémon are notably more hardy! So, turning Ingo into a Gliscor seemed like the best solution.

It’s temporary but 'temporary' for a human and 'temporary' for a being that has lived since before time is Very Different (and maybe Arceus thinks being a Pokémon for a bit isn’t to bad)

Also, re the alpha status: being an alpha has more to do with being particularly experienced in battle/ a will to protect. so.

Arceus just thought “Oh, natural law says you would have become an alpha.” and thus Ingo was made into an alpha.

Alphas aren’t exactly born, though having a parent that is an alpha can increase the chances of becoming one. Just because being surrounded / raised by a really good / experienced fighter is a huge advantage.

Ingo beats up kids for fun on the battle subway and is completely merciless in the paths of solitude. He is a Very experienced fighter in the technical sense, even if for a bit he struggles to harness that power.

In that sense, Emmet was pretty spot on with assuming Ingo was a Gligar that evolved too soon. Not that Ingo actually evolved per se, but his situation is very much like giving a level 5 gligar 95 rare candies and a razor fang. Also he’s still getting used to his body.

(For the record, yes he knows earthquake.)

On that note, Ingo probably. Would not be able to battle on the subway. Not without it being a very strong opponent. With his lack of skill, he has absolutely No Idea how to pull his punches. Also Emmet would feel verrrry uncomfortable putting him in a pokeball- Ingo feels similarly.

Ingo’s gliscor might enjoy it after being tested and vaccinated though haha. Tho they might be busy assisting Ingo with being gliscor shaped himself. Especially when Ingo immediately tried to get back to work- not on the lines but administrative work. Unfortunately holding a pen is rather hard with pincers- and even harder when he struggles to adjust his grip strength.

The carnage is vast. Many good pens were lost under the claws of a very embarrassed ingo. (Emmet appreciates the effort)

It is temporary though and he will be back to normal eventually. Emmet just has to be very careful about not mentioning that the weirdly large gliscor that followed him out of the tunnels is his brother. His reputation already took a hit after his brother’s initial disappearance- he doesn’t need them questioning his mental health about something he can’t prove.

(Thankfully Ingo wants to stick by Emmet's side while he’s still in the shape of a gliscor- so usually it’s other people asking about him and Emmet just pointing or saying “this one” when referring to him. Ingo gets the nickname “Boss” for a bit! Both Ingo and Emmet find it funny.)

once he’s human again Ingo still has a few habits left over- he looks exactly the same as he once did though. His hearing is better (back to normal human levels without the hearing loss he got working with heavy machinery) and he has a tendency to hiss/chirp to convey things. The last one there is actually just something he picked up after living alone in the mountains with a bunch of cat weasel things. His body language and movements are a bit off for a while, because he Just got used to dealing with a tail and wings and now he has to go back to human arms and legs.

Overall things generally just. Go back to normal after a period of adjustment. Ingo and Emmet get to keep running the battle subway and gliscor is sometimes featured on the super singles line.

That’s… all I can think of right now! Absolutely feel free to ask more specific questions!

#ray's art #submas #ray rambles #bat tunnel au #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 9 months ago

Text

Hey Bartender

Summary: Reader thinks it's just another shift of bartending but instead meets a drunk golden retriever that sets her up with his best friend.

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Reader, Get Together

Requested?: No

Word Count: 4,087

A/N: I realized I always write reader as a fellow firefighter and wanted to try my hand at not doing that lol. You know I just had to add a drop of angst in there lmao. Anyways, hope you enjoy the read! Much love to all! Requests are Open!

--- Your POV ---

It's another Saturday night, and I'm expecting just as many jackasses as usual... Let me tell you, bartending pays well but damn does it suck ass. If I had a nickel for every time a douche bag hit on me, I wouldn't need to bartend, I could just live on my own private island. If I had a dollar for every decent man that ever hit on me, I'd be living on the streets if it weren’t for my weekly paychecks.

I drop my bag in the back office and head to the bar, throwing my hair up into a messy bun on the way. When I round the corner of the hallway out into the main area, I can see my coworkers Tiana and Grayson struggling to keep up. I slide through the swinging door with ease and begin taking orders. Soon, the chaos has died down some and I'm able to send Tiana home.

A rowdy bunch of college guys, that I see often, come in as she leaves. I raise my voice, "Hey! Don't come in here acting a fool, y'all know better." They sarcastically salute me or wave dramatically before making their way to their favorite table in the corner.

A tall, older, and muscular guy takes a seat on the stool in front of me, "You must be the boss lady around here," he states pointing back toward the college kids.

I scoff, "Might as well be but no. Our boss tends to only show up when it's slow. What can I get ya?"

The man laughs, "Two Jack and Coke, please."

I nod and turn around to reach for the Jack Daniels but find it exactly where I had repeatedly told Grayson not to put it, on the top shelf. Placing my hands on my hips, I turn toward my coworker, "Hey, dickhead!" He looks up immediately but I only point in the direction of the bottle I need. He grins with a laugh as he approaches me, grabs the bottle, and passes it down to me. As he returns to the customer, he was helping I gripe, "I swear you only do that to piss me off."

He looks at me, still wearing that stupid grin, "Yup, sure do!"

I roll my eyes and proceed to finish making my customer's Jack and Coke. When I set the glasses down in front of him, he admits, "If he wasn't making my gaydar go off, I'd be concerned."

I laugh, "Yes, Grayson is gay. He's basically my annoying little brother that enjoys making my life difficult."

The man laughs, "I'm Tommy," he points behind him, "The one waving his arms around like a crazy person is my lovely boyfriend, Evan."

I watch Evan animatedly tell his story for a beat before responding, "I'm (Y/N). What on earth is he talking about?"

Tommy shakes his head, "I don't really know. I love listening to him speak, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I zone out because I'm too focused on how pretty he is."

This makes me laugh extra hard, "I could see that."

Tommy pulls far more than enough cash out of his wallet to pay for the drinks and hands it to me, "Keep the change. See you around, (Y/N)."

I nod and watch him leave before jumping because Grayson speaks right in my ear, "He was cute!"

I shake my head, "He's gay and taken."

Grayson pouts, "Damn... A loss for us both I guess." I laugh and start cleaning up around the bar.

Sometime later, I notice something suspicious out of the corner of my eye. There's a gruff looking man leaning far too close to a girl who looks at least half his age. At first glance, I wouldn't even be sure she's old enough to drink but considering they card everyone at the door, she's at least 21 and this man looks to be in his late 40s or early 50s. She is very obviously uncomfortable and from the way her eyes dart around I can tell she's looking for an escape route.

I place my hand on Grayson's shoulder, still keeping an eye on her, "I'll be right back." He follows my line of sight and nods in understanding. As I pass the cooler on my way to her, I blindly grab a bottle of water. I step beside her, opposite the man, and place my hand on her shoulder and the water on the table in front of her, "Here's that water you ordered, sweetie."

"Aw, I just brought you a drink, Baby. You haven't even touched it yet. You don't need that water, do ya?" the subtleties his voice makes my skin crawl.

She avoids eye contact with him as she opens the water and takes a sip before looking me dead in the eyes, "Thank you. Could you point me to the bathroom, please?"

I nod, "Sure, I'll walk you there." She hops down from her stool and I put myself between her and the man.

I point in the direction we need to go but as she starts that way, the man grabs my right arm, "I think I can handle walking her to the bathroom. Besides, your coworker looks pretty busy over there."

I turn slowly to face him. I look down at where his hand is clamped around my right bicep and then back at his face, "I suggest you remove your hand from my body before I remove it from yours." By now everyone in the bar is zeroed in on us. I even notice Tommy, Evan, and a couple of their friends get up from their table.

His grip tightens, "I said," spits flecks across my face as he speaks through gritted teeth and with a menacing smile, "I can show her to the bathroom."

I wipe my face with my left hand, "Last chance, pal. You have three seconds." I give him a few seconds as promised before using my right hand to remove his hand from my arm, twisting it outwards with a small crack. Anger now replacing the smile on his face, he lunges at me but I drive the palm of my left hand straight into his nose.

He doubles over in pain, holding his nose as blood leaks through his fingers, "You bitch!"

I glare down at him, "That shit doesn't fly in my bar," I point to the bouncers, snap my fingers, and point down at the piece of shit at my feet. Already on standby, they immediately make their way through the crowd to collect him. I turn to check on the girl and escort her to the bathroom.

--- Third Person POV ---

Bobby and Athena meet the bouncers at the puddle of filth who is still writhing in pain, "My husband is just gonna make sure he doesn't need a stop at the hospital on his way to the police station," she says, as she flashes her badge. The bouncers take a step back to let Bobby work. Athena turns to speak to (Y/N) but finds her already heading toward the bathrooms with the girl.

Bobby stands and wipes his hands on a napkin, "Alright, Athena, to the slammer. As far as I can tell she just broke it. No serious damage."

Athena nods and looks toward the door where two officers enter. When they approach her, she explains what happened and gives them instructions. A few feet away, Buck leans toward Tommy, "I wonder where she learned to do that."

Wondering the same thing, Eddie looks over as Tommy answers, "She had an Army Sergeant's insignia tattooed on her wrist."

Eddie nods, "That'll do it."

Buck looks toward the bathrooms, "A badass, former Army Sergeant, who can take down a man twice her size...," he looks at Eddie, whose eyes are locked in the same direction, "You should get her number." Eddie rolls his eyes and soon the three are ushered back to the table by Athena and Bobby.

--- Your POV ---

As we arrive at the bathrooms, I wait with the girl in silence. When the door opens and another lady exits, she moves to enter before looking back at me, "Thank you."

I nod, "I'll be at the bar if you need me." She nods before entering the bathroom. I make my way back towards the bar and as soon as I round the corner, the college boys in the corner start whooping and hollering. The rest of the bar erupts to join them. I quickly return to the bar, grinning and shaking my head.

When the commotion dies down, one of the college kids loudly slurs out, "That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we don't fuck with (Y/N)." Many in the bar laugh before returning to their friends and drinks. Not too long later, I watch the girl meet a few friends at the door and make their way to a table. She smiles at me as she passes. I smile back.

I take and make a few more orders before letting Grayson know I'm taking a few minutes for a smoke break. After what feels like too short of a break, I'm checking notifications on my phone when I pass Grayson who grabs my shirt. I look at him in confusion, "What?"

He nods toward the other end of the bar where Evan is sat blowing bubbles into a fresh Jack and Coke, "said he wanted to ask you something."

Still bewildered, I make my way over to Evan, "What's up, Buttercup?"

He snaps his head up from his drink and grins at me before slurring out, "I was wondering if I could have your number," and is quick to add, "b-but not for me! I have a hot pilot boyfriend," the grin on his face gets even bigger, "I'm gonna give it to my friend Eddie who's been staring at you all night," he thinks for a split second, "He also seemed very disappointed when he saw you leave a little bit ago."

I laugh but before I can say a single word he goes on, "I came up here and asked your coworker if you were done for the night but he said you were just on break so I waited until you came back." He keeps rambling on and on as I grab a sticky note pad and pen from under the counter. I jot my name and number down. Normally, I wouldn't do this but these Evan and Tommy dudes seem decent so I figure their friend Eddie can't be too bad.

Evan is still going when I remove the note and press the sticky side to his forehead. He stops abruptly mid word, "Sweet! I'm Buck by the way." With that, it seems our conversation has come to an end as he gets up and returns to his table, not even removing the sticky note.

--- Third Person POV ---

Hen giggles, “I think the golden has retrieved something.”

Tommy follows her line of sight and notices Buck stumbling back toward the table with something attached to his forehead; question already locked and loaded for when he's in earshot, "Whatcha got there?" Buck stops and attempts to pose heroically which makes everyone giggle. Tommy reaches up with one hand to remove the note and pats the bench beside him with the other, prompting Buck to plop down and lay his head on Tommy's shoulder. Realizing what his boyfriend has done, he looks over to Eddie, "I believe this is for you," and hands him the note.

Confused, Eddie takes the paper and reads it before looking at Buck with a facial expression that reads, "Seriously?"

Buck grins proudly as Maddie nudges Eddie, "You so should text her."

Chimney grins, "Or if you're man enough you can call her." Eddie glares at him, very clearly annoyed. He looks down at the paper in his hands and thinks for a few seconds before nudging Tommy and Buck out of the booth. He ignores the excited gasps and "ooo"s that break out behind him and makes his way to the bar.

--- Your POV ---

I look up from the beer I'm pouring and notice one of Tommy and Buck's friends heading my direction. I top the beer off and hand it to the college kid in front of me just as the newcomer takes a seat to my left. He's staring straight ahead and hasn't said a word.

I wipe my hands off on a towel and grab a glass before crossing the short distance between us, "You're either a whiskey guy or a fruity cocktail guy. What'll it be?"

He smiles and tilts his head as he looks at me, "Whiskey, please."

I nod and turn around, aiming to grab the bottle of Jack I left on the other counter but find it has mysteriously moved back up to the top shelf. I whip my head in Grayson's direction but his back is turned to me. Placing my hands on my hips I glare up at the bottle. "Do you need me to-" Eddie tries to ask but instead I step up onto a shelf under the counter and climb up to stand on the granite, promptly procuring the bottle, "Guess not," I hear Eddie chuckle behind me as I scrunch up the towel on my shoulder and throw it at Grayson.

It nails him right in the back of the head, although not all very hard. He turns around grinning until he notices me still standing on the counter. An expression of fear almost crosses his features before he speaks, "Rodney will have your ass for standing on his counter," a teasing hint of humor in his tone.

I flip him off, "Rodney can suck a dick. I'd say you should too but you'd enjoy it too much," I punctuate my sentence by jumping down from the counter. Grayson doubles over in laughter as I turn back to my customer, who is also laughing his ass off.

As I pour the whiskey, I ask, "So, are you the Eddie that Buck mentioned?"

He looks back at the table where his friends are very clearly pretending to not be watching, minus Buck who is staring at us with his chin in his hands. He looks down at his whiskey, "Yeah," and takes a sip.

I tilt my head at him, "You don't seem too thrilled."

He makes eye contact with me, "To be honest, my heart is racing a mile a minute. I'm not like wasted or anything but uh," he looks back at the table and then at his glass, "I've got enough liquor in my system right now that when Chimney challenged that I wouldn't call you, I was like, 'Oh yeah? Watch this,'" he looks up at me again, "So, here I am with no clue what to say and possibly making a fool of myself."

I can't help but laugh, "I've had plenty of men make fools of themselves in front of me. I promise, you sir, are not one of them."

He smiles at this and is quiet for a few beats before asking, "Would it- would it be okay if I called you?"

I give him an "are you serious?" look, "Eddie, if it wasn't okay for you to call me, I wouldn't have given Buck my number." I swear I see him blush as he looks down at his glass again, nodding. I hear a customer call my name and grimace, "Give me a sec." He nods so I move to serve the customer and when I return to where Eddie was seated, he's back at the table with his friends. He's left cash on a napkin that has a note scribbled on it:

I'll call you tomorrow when I can actually form coherent sentences :) - Eddie P.S. Keep the change!

I smile softly to myself and look up toward their table to find him already looking my way. I wave and he returns the wave before I slip the napkin into my back pocket and move on to take some more orders on Grayson's end of the bar.

The next morning, or rather the next afternoon, when I roll out of bed I immediately reach for my phone. I find a text from an unknown number:

This is Tommy from the bar. Just in case Eddie loses the sticky note, I added your number into his phone. Figured I'd shoot you a text so you have his :)

I smile and lay my phone back down on the side table. My excited anticipation dwindles quickly as hours turn into days of not hearing from Eddie. I'm beginning to think he was just drunk that night and wasn't actually interested. One afternoon, as I'm getting ready for work, I glance at my phone for the millionth time hoping to see something from Eddie. No such luck... I open up the text conversation and my fingers hover over the keyboard trying to decide what to say. This isn't the first time I've done this in the past few days. Once again, I finally give up and shove my phone back in my pocket. I head to work with a pit in my stomach and disappointment heavy in my chest.

That evening, Grayson and all of my regulars notice how down I am and a few even try to cheer me up or be an ear to listen, including Grayson who hasn't stopped pestering me about it every chance he gets. "So, did things not work out with Lover Boy?" I brush him off and start wiping down the bar. "Come on, (Y/N). Talk to me," he sighs, "I know I'm a dick sometimes but I do care about you and I don't like seeing you so upset."

I take a deep breath as I toss the dirty towel into the laundry bin, "He never called. Never even texted either. And it's not because he lost my number, Tommy saved it into his phone for him." I can't hide the disappointment and hurt in my tone.

"Are you serious? Dude was absolutely entranced by you but doesn't bother to contact you?" Grayson asks, dumbfounded.

I shrug, heading for the cellar door, "I'm gonna restock. Holler if you need me."

He lets me go and as the door shuts behind me, I feel tears prickle against my eyes. Why am I about to cry over some dude I've only met once and only shared a few sentences with? Frustrated, I wipe my eyes and grab a few bottles that I know we need. Half way up the stairs, tears threaten to spill again. Sighing in defeat, I descend back down, place the bottles on a table, and drop to the floor against the wall with my head in my hands. This shit is why I don't let myself get hung up on guys anymore. The tears are flowing freely when I hear the cellar door open, "(Y/N)?"

Grayson sounds worried so I answer, "Yeah?" but my voice comes out weak and shaky.

I hear his footsteps descend the stairs rapidly before he drops to the floor beside me, "Hey, you okay?"

I look up from my hands and make eye contact, "I thought this one was different. I let myself hope. Now look at me, crying on the floor of a dusty ass cellar."

Grayson rubs my back comfortingly, "It's okay to cry, (Y/N)."

I drop my head back in my hands, "No it's not, not over a man I don't even know. I'm an independent woman who don't need no man. I shouldn't be this heart broken."

"First of all, yes, it's still okay to cry. Second, you may be independent but everyone needs somebody to love," Grayson says softly.

From the top of the stairs, a voice rings out, "Hey Grayson, quite a few people wanting drinks up here."

"We'll be up in a minute," he answers before pulling my face to look at him, "Get up, dust yourself off, and let's go have a good time, okay?"

I sigh deeply, "Okay," and wipe my tears. On our way up, I grab the bottles I had set down earlier and by the time we reach the top of the stairs, I've promised myself I won't shed another tear over this man unless he earns it.

Later that evening, I'm wiping down the bar again after a rush. In my peripheral, I notice someone take a seat and toss the towel away to tend to them. When I finally look over, my heart starts racing. It's Eddie. He's staring at his hands where he interlocked them on the bar top. I look around, hoping to pass him off to Grayson but find him helping other customers. I take a deep breath before smoothing out my shirt and walking over to Eddie.

"What can I get for you?" I ask, attempting to keep my tone friendly and even but it still shakes the slightest bit. His head shoots up and he makes direct eye contact with me. There's something in his eyes that makes me tilt my head.

He breaks eye contact and breaths deeply, looking back to his hands, "Listen, I- I'm sorry. I know I haven't called or texted. I tried to several times but I didn't know what to say. Buck says I was overthinking it too much but... I don't know, I just- I didn't wanna fuck it up."

A small smile touches my lips but I squash down the hope that's trying to breach the surface, "Eddie, a hello would've been sufficient."

He looks up at me and grimaces, "That's what Tommy said but I didn't wanna sound so- so casual I guess?"

Bewilderment replaces my smile, "What?"

He hesitates a second, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I didn't want to sound so uninterested when you're all I've been able to think about for days. I also didn't want to sound too interested and scare you off... Which I may have just done anyways," he shakes his head in embarrassment as he looks back down at the bar top.

The grin on my face kind of hurts as I tuck my finger under his chin and lift it. His eyes have a touch of worry in them when they lock with mine, "I almost texted you several times too but didn't for the same exact reason." For some reason, I let myself get a little vulnerable, "I may or may not have cried a few hours ago because I was so disappointed that I didn't hear from you..."

I pull away as shock etches across his features, "I'm so sorry."

I shrug, "Forgiven, as long as you take me out on a date at some point and remember that my number exists in your phone."

He grins, nodding, "I will. When are you off work this week?"

I look up at the ceiling trying to remember, "All day Wednesday and Sunday and then until 3pm every other day."

When I look back at him, he smiles, "How does coffee sound Wednesday morning? 10am?"

I mirror his expression, "Sounds great!"

I can barely contain my excitement over the next few days and wake up before my alarm even goes off Wednesday morning after tossing and turning all night. I jolt up in bed, checking my phone in a panic, thinking I've slept through my alarm going off. Relief courses through my veins when I realize there's still an hour until it will. Excitement quickly floods that relief out of my system and I hop out of bed with a spring in my step.

Sometime later, as I enter the small outdoor café early but too excited to wait, I see Eddie threading his fingers through his hair at a table, having beat me there. I smile brightly and approach his table. He stands as soon as he sees me, pulls out my chair for me, and motions to the coffee in front of it, “I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee but if it’s wrong just let me know and I can order you something else.”

I giggle, take a sip and grin, “It’s perfect,” and as I look at him sitting across from me, knee bouncing and fingers fidgeting with his coffee cup I can’t help but think he’s perfect too.

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hugsandchaos · 5 months ago

Note

Regarding this post

How would Frostbite react to Danny having a panic attack like that? How does he respond to it? Is he able to help Danny calm down?

I don't know, just a thought- I'm a sucker for the father/son bond it made me think of when you mentioned it.

Frostdad

You wouldn’t believe how much I actually struggled with the panic attack scene, it was insane. I had to do it over and over again, but I’m proud of it! The ending was a little rushed, so it might not be as good as my usual work, but I plan to add more if I can because I’m starting to like the ideas I got from it! I just had to give you what I already had written down, I think you’ll like it! I’m sorry if it’s shorter than you were expecting. I got way too carried away with possible scenarios and ended up with a bunch of vague notes instead of actual writing 😆

——————————————————————

First Encounter

Frostbite could still hardly believe it. The Great One, Savior of the Ghost Zone, right here! In the same room as him! If the chief wasn’t so focused on the core readings in front of him, he’d be practicing what to even say to him in preparation for when he woke up. He very briefly glanced over to the bed where he was resting before turning back to the screen. The warrior was exactly as other ghosts had described. At least, at first.

He was small, about the same height as a two hundred or three hundred year old, and had very little fur aside from the rather big patch on his head that covered some of his face. His eyes were opened briefly a while ago to make sure they weren’t damaged or that he didn’t have a severe head injury, and they were indeed the same green as the ectoplasm that flowed through them all.

His limbs didn’t look like they have much muscle, but Frostbite knew from the stories that they weren’t as weak as they seem, but they were as injured.

Yes, the Great One was discovered when an unknown ghost entered their borders and triggers the sensors. By the time Galeforce had gotten there with Frostbite by her side, the Great One was already unconscious and bleeding out into the snow, staining it green. He was brought into the hospital immediately, and many odd things were discovered.

For instance, it became clear during core scans that the Great One’s core wasn’t done maturing. It hadn’t even finished developing its ice powers! This meant that he wasn’t a ghost for very long, and it was frankly concerning. They’d heard that he wasn’t a full ghost and was half human. From the limited information they had, they knew that humans couldn’t handle the extreme cold very much.

The room had been raised to a high enough temperature that the he’d survive and hopefully be comfortable. It wasn’t something the doctors couldn’t handle, though. Building tolerance to a warmer room was practically a requirement in certain fields of medicine in the Far Frozen.

Frostbite was getting pretty warm, however. He looked at the clock. It had been 45 minutes since he came in. He’d need to take a break in the next 20 to 30 minutes if he didn’t want to begin experiencing problems.

A high pitched beep from the computer snatched Frostbite’s attention away from the clock and forced him back to looking at the monitor. The Great One’s core was picking up in vibrations and becoming more active, and the strange rhythmic thumping known as a “heartbeat” had picked up as well. The strange waves from his head were changing as well.

A small groan came from the bed. The chief snapped his head to the side. He was waking up.

The Great One was waking up!

Without thinking about the others wanting to see this, Frostbite rose from his seat and walked towards the bed, both out of excitement and concern for his patient.

The Great One turned his head and made an expression that Frostbite had seen before in patients waking up from an incident. It seemed almost like a struggle, but once they were open, they drifted around the room lost until they landed on Frostbite. Frostbite composed himself and bared his teeth in a smile. He reminded himself to keep his voice down since he had just woken up.

“Hello, Great One. It is an honor to—“

Frostbite was cut off by a scream.

The monitor beeped loudly from a jump in the core vibrations, and the other machines began to follow as they picked up on a sudden increase in ectoplasm pressure, and breathing rate. The veins in the Great One’s body flashed a bright green glow as ectoplasm rushed to the surface to harden it. It became so hard and taunt that little crevices were glowing along the skin. It almost looked as if the skin was going to break apart.

The Great One started reaching for the IV, but couldn’t grab it. He tried again and again, but his hands were shaking too hard to fully grasp it. Frostbite reached out to grab his wrists once he realized that the ghost was trying to pull out the IV. The Great One’s breathing rapidly picked up and grew shallower.

“Hey, hey, don’t pull that out!” Frostbite exclaimed. He was pulled out of trying to impress the Great One and back to acting the way he does with other patients, which suddenly felt like an obvious choice.

It seemed to have only made the problem worse as the Great One began fighting back, tugging his arms and made noises of distress. Frostbite is a doctor, but he is also a chief who takes his people’s protection very seriously, so it was no struggle to keep his hands around the Great One’s wrist. Then it was as if he was speaking another language, but if it was, it was nothing like Frostbite had heard. His injured core was practically screaming to be released, to run away and escape the danger.

“What’s going on?!” A voice shouted from outside the room. Frostbite turned around to see SwiftIce run into the room.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.” Frostbite said. He had to restrain from shouting, but the urgency was in his voice.”Get the diazepam, now.” He said. He turned back to the ghost and tried to put on a friendly expression.”Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He said calmly. He knew those words alone wouldn’t work, but it was a place to start.

The Great One pulled harder on his arms and began to move around as he struggled and failed to get his hands free. His eyes squeezed shut from the strain.

“Look at me.” Frostbite said gently. He lowered his head and knelt down so he’d be closer to the young one’s height.

The halfa opened his mouth and repeated the phrase from earlier, then repeated it again, but with extra “words”. It might be whatever it was that humans spoke. It would make sense for his first language to be a living one since Frostbite knew that some ghosts were humans before becoming ghosts. This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they had a translator.

“Please, look at me.” The chief repeated. This time, a little bit more sternly in hopes that the child would listen.”Get something to calm his core and muscles!” He called out, very briefly turning his head before looking back to the halfa.

Green eyes filled with terror opened up and looked at Frostbite, but only for a split second before looking beside him. Tears threatened to spill as he doubled his efforts to escape. Now, he was kicking as well. He cried out when he moved his left leg, which was still wrapped in bandages stained with green and a hint of red.

“I said let me go!!” The Great One screamed. His eyes glowed brightly as he shot a glare at Frostbite and bared his teeth, which as previously stated, were small and not very threatening. Frostbite noticed SwiftIce out of the corner of his eyes admitting the sedatives to the IV. The young one would be calmer soon, but he needed to breathe.

Frostbite took one of the halfa’s hands and placed it against his chest, ignoring the tugs and noises of protest.”Listen. In…”

The chief took in a deep breath.

“Out…” He exhaled. He took in another breath, and when he began taking in his third, the halfa had started to copy him. It was a struggle at first. His first breath was shaky and hitched, and he exhaled a little too quickly, desperate for the next one.

Frostbite continued and watched as the Great One’s breathing slowly evened out and became deeper. It seemed he was coming out of the panic attack as he took one without suddenly gasped for air or shaking. Once the sedatives he was given kicked in, the bright glow in his eyes and veins died down. The strength in his tugging slowly became less and less intense until he stopped fighting all together.

His shoulders slumped and he started leaning back against the pillow and bed frame, his eyes only barely glowing now and starting to look tired. Once Frostbite was sure he was calm enough, he spoke again.”Can you hear me?” He asked, just to be extra sure.

His patient nodded.

“I’m going to let go, but I need you to stop trying to remove your IV. If you can’t, we will have to strap you down for your own safety.” Frostbite said. He spoke sternly, putting a heavy emphasis on the “stop”, but not without understanding.“I understand that you’re scared, and I will explain everything as long as you don’t try to remove anything, fight, or run, okay?” Frostbite said.

The halfa nodded again.

Frostbite slowly released his grip on the Great One’s wrist and stepped back to give him a little space. The Great One didn’t reach for the IV again. Instead, he held both hands close to himself. He held the hand Frostbite had pressed against his chest. Frostbite hoped he hadn’t accidentally hurt him. He was sure he was gentle enough.

“My name is Frostbite. You are at the hospital in my village. You were brought here after you were found unconscious and bleeding into the snow at the edge of our borders.” He explained.

The young halfa stared at him blankly for a moment, likely processing what he heard. His eyes soon shifted away from Frostbite to look around the room. They landed on the IV next to him for a moment before he looked back to Frostbite.

“What did you give me?” He asked. His voice was much quieter than before, and Frostbite was sure that if it wasn’t for the meds, he’d be either snappy or still terrified.

“Diazepam, amrix, and gailen.” Frostbite responded.

The halfa raised an eyebrow and made a funny face in confusion.“Gailen??” He questioned. He almost didn’t finish the word before opening his mouth wider and yawning. Frostbite could barely see any fangs and wondered if he even had any.

The chief nodded.“It helps soothe your core and prevent it from buzzing too much.” He explained.

His patient didn’t quite look like he was paying attention as he sunk further against the bed, but his eyes still looked focused. Well, as focused as they could be. He stared at Frostbite for a while, which was to be expected, and he smiled at the young halfa.”I understand if you don’t trust me, but please know that we aren’t your enemies. If we wanted to hurt you, we’d have done it by now.” Frostbite said.

His patient slowly blinked. He opened his mouth, but only the strange noises came out again and it was quiet.“What was that?” Frostbite asked. He leaned closer.

“Where...?” The halfa muttered. His eyes fluttered closed, but after a short while, they opened again. Just barely, though.

“You’re in the Far Frozen.” Frostbite responded. The Great One’s eyes drifted shut again, but the chief continued.”You’ll likely still be healing when you wake up, but don’t worry, we have our best doctors and nurses helping you.” He said. The only response he got was the machines monitoring his patient’s heartbeat and core vibrations slowing down.

Frostbite soon sat down and took a moment to think about what had just happened. In hindsight, he should’ve expected some form of surprise or wariness when the Great One woke up. He’d been unconscious when he was found, so he didn’t know that he was brought to a hospital. They’ve never met, either, and there were just as many bad ghosts as there were good.

A full on panic attack, however, was not something Frostbite would have expected even if he realized the chances of the halfa reacting negatively to the new environment sooner. Not only that, but hearing his voice made Frostbite realize something that was frankly terrifying.

It was clear that his core wasn’t fully matured yet, so he was a child by ghost standards, but Frostbite had hoped that he was at least an adult by human standards. Despite never having met a human before, Frostbite thought that he looked rather young. Then again, some adults look young. He held onto these assumptions because surely, a child didn’t attempt to fight Pariah Dark and win, right?

However, after what just happened and hearing his voice, a sense of horror was creeping its way into the chief’s mind. It was almost certain that the Great One was indeed a child.

The next time the Great One awoke, he didn’t freak out as much as last time, however he was startled about Frostbite as he woke up with his bandages being changed and yanked his arm away. After staring at Frostbite for a short while, he held his arm back out to let him finish. He winced a little during the process, but other than that, he had good self control.

“You said your name is Frostbite, right?” The young halfa asked. His core buzzed anxiously as he stared at the bigger ghost.

Frostbite was nearly done with the bandages and didn’t look up from his current task.“Yes. May I know yours?” He asked calmly. This time, he was more mentally prepared to talk to the halfa.

When he finished, the Great One held his arm and looked at the bandages. He turned his arm as if inspecting them before he turned to Frostbite.”Danny.” He responded.“Thanks for the help, but I need to go.” He said. He began to move around in the bed that was too big for him to try to swing his legs over the edge, but realized that the bed was bigger than he thought and resorted to trying to stand up.

“What? But you’re not properly healed yet!” Frostbite exclaimed. He lifted a paw to try to lightly push Danny back down. The halfa nearly fell over fairly easily and exclaimed something in human speak, but he grabbed onto Frostbite’s paw and began trying to squirm his way out from underneath.

“Hey, let go! I seriously need to head back home before something happens!” He said. He was able to escape fairly easily on account of his size and Frostbite’s loose grip. He flew up a little too fast and hit his head on the ceiling. He let out a noise of pain and looked down at Frostbite.“Wait, how long have I been here?” He asked.

The chief raised a paw up to try to gently grab the halfa. Unlike most ghosts, Frostbite’s people were surprisingly incapable of flight after spending so much time on the ground.“About a week, but you must--”

Frostbite was cut off by Danny letting out a noise of surprise in Human Speak.“Thank you so much for helping me, but I really need to find my way home! ‘Kay, thanks, bye!” He said quickly. Before Frostbite could say anything, he was gone.

Reunion

The day had gone by as usual. Work got done and things were running smoothly, and there was still no sign of the Great One. It had been two weeks since Frostbite saw him, since anyone saw him, and the chief was wondering if he was alright. He had no doubts that the Great One was powerful. He had defeated Pariah Dark, for Ancients’ sake!

Yet every time Frostbite thought back to their conversations, for lack of a better word, he couldn’t help but worry. The fact that the Great One was so young left him with a heavy weight in his core. Where were his parents? Where were his mentors? Why didn’t they help?

Frostbite stood at the edge of of one the islands and looked out towards the distant parts of the ghost zone. The entire sky, including the pieces that stretched below the islands, had almost turned dark. The last few ships between other nearby floating islands were just now landing and unloading their passengers. Soon, Frostbite would need to return home.

He continued to watch the sky grow dimmer for a while before he noticed something in the dark green. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward a little. It looked like a ship. As it came closer, he realized it didn’t look like one of his own. Not only that, but there was something smaller flying beside it.

The thing beside the ship picked up in speed and started heading right for Frostbite. The chief growled and readied himself for a fight. Why weren’t the defenses up? Where was everyone? If their ships were already turned off, he’d need to handle this threat by himself for a while. That won’t be a problem, though. The ship and the thing next to it were small. He could--

The thing next to the ship stretched an arm out and waved. The white glove contrasted against the black sleeves, and the green eyes that the chief could see more clearly now looked more lively than last he saw them. The half-ghost picked up in speed and flew a little lower, possibly coming in for a landing.

Frostbite’s shoulders relaxed as a smile began to stretch across his maw. The Great One was back!

The Great One landed a distance away from Frostbite and waved the ship down to land next to him. Once it was down, he looked over his shoulder and directly at Frostbite.

The chief began making his way over to the young halfa. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to greet him, he wanted to ask where he went, he wanted to ask why he’d returned, but all that came out was a worried “Are you alright?”.

The Great One smiled. It looked a little strange without a longer maw, but he couldn’t help that and shouldn’t be judged for it.”Yeah, I’m alright. The injuries healed a while ago.” He replied. It was almost strange seeing how calm he is now. Before, he seemed absolutely terrified, but now, he seems more confident. Perhaps it’s the fact that he wasn’t alone, or maybe it’s the simple change in scenery. He turned to the ship and called out to whoever was inside. A few seconds later, a small door opened and two humans stepped out.

They were both wearing large coats and pants lined with white fur. One of them shivered and hugged themselves, then said something to Danny. The Great One spoke back and all their gazes were directed to Frostbite.“This is Sam and Tucker. They’re my best friends and wanted to come with me to say thank you!” The Great One said.

One of the humans waved their hand, which was covered in a glove thicker than Danny’s. Frostbite knelt down to be more at eye level and extended both hands.“It is an honor to meet you both!” He said.

Danny turned to them and spoke in the human language. He most likely translated what he said to his friends, who took both hands and shook them.

Well, it was more like they placed a hand against his palm. Their hands were significantly smaller than his own and he had to be careful not to crush them. Frostbite turned to Danny.

“I’m honored that you have returned to thank us. It was no trouble at all helping you. It’s getting dark, so I insist you stay the night before returning home.” Frostbite said.

The Great One looked surprised.”Uh-- Sorry, but no. Not this time. We have to head home soon or people will start to notice we’re gone. I just really wanted to say thanks for all the help and ask why.” He said. Frostbite’s eyes widened a little. One of the humans, one with black hair and purple eyes, held his paw as if interested in his claws. The chief paid little attention to this.

“Why? Why wouldn’t we? Great One, you defeated the ghost king! You prevented him from rising up again! The entire ghost zone should be in your debt for what you’ve done for us. Helping you recover was the very least we could do.” He said.

The Great One stammered, then let out a small laugh.”Great One? I-I mean, I did put that guy back in the box, yeah, but I doubt I’m all that great.” He said.

The human holding Frostbite’s paw turned to the halfa and asked him something, to which he replied with a shrug and a string of noises. Suddenly, there was a blaring noise coming from the ship. The third human rushed inside to investigate. He poked his head out moments later and shouted something.

Danny turned to Frostbite.”Sorry to cut it short, but Tucker says that the ship is already starting to freeze. It’s not meant for cold temperatures.” He said. The other human rushed inside.

As disappointed the chief was by this news, he knew it couldn’t be helped. He could offer to bring the ship to the engineers and they could improve its tolerance to the cold, but the humans would need a warm place to stay. Plus, it wasn’t hard to tell that Danny was eager to return home, although it seemed more that he was worried about something than disliking the Far Frozen.

Frostbite put on a smile.“Very well, but know this; If you are ever in need of assistance or are feeling unwell, you are welcome in the Far Frozen any time. You and your friends.” He promised.

The ship hovered up into the air. Danny jumped off the ground and flew up into the air.”I’ll… remember that. Thanks again for the help. See you again sometime?” He said. The ship circled around and flew off the way it came.

“Of course. Safe travels, Great One!” Frostbite said.

“You can just call me Danny!” The Great One called out as he rushed to catch up.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #frostbite #Danny phantom frostbite

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angelsdean · 4 months ago

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hot take maybe but actually i do expect my mom to comfort me and make me an ice cream sundae when i’m sad even when i get to 40 and she’s 70. my grandma does that for her still. it’s not. limiting her. it’s not saying she only has to be my mommy. i have taken care of her too. it’s saying we love each other and want to take care of each other. mary struggling to be able to interact with grown up sam and dean was very very valid and understandable and i love her for it. she also could’ve maybe tried a little more anyway. they could’ve lent on each other. idk.

Yea i've said before that I think it's a bit outrageous the way people seem to think someone stops being a parent once their child reaches adulthood. Maybe it's a cultural thing, I don't know, but the whole idea of "once your kid turns 18 they're out the door and not your problem anymore" is so deeply flawed IMO. But yea I focus more on "debunking" the claim that Dean expects some sort of motherly coddling / babying from Mary because that seems to be the deancrit take I see the most with regards to this arc / the "i'm not just a mom" scene.

But for sure many people seem to have some weird ideas IMO about what it means to be a parent. Like I think you can feel for Mary and understand that parents can and are more than just parents, but also understand that they will never stop BEING a parent either. Their kids will always be their kids. It's why people always say being a parent is a full time job, not something to go into lightly, that you should be sure you actually want kids and understand that having them is a lifelong commitment etc etc. And having kids makes them become your priority, even when you want to be selfish you always have to try to put them first. Obviously that lessens as they grow up but like, if your adult child were injured or had some kind of health issue / challenges as a parent it's still your job to be there for them, to support them, to care for them. That doesn't just end at 18. It's why *I* know that even though I like the idea of kids I probably never will have any because it's so much responsibility and because those kids are always always going to come first, forever! That's kind of part of the parental "contract" IMO. And even when they're adults, a parent should still be the one person in the world your kid can turn to, rely on, seek comfort in.

And I understand these expectations are complicated in this particular narrative by the fact that Mary died young and is not equipped to be a mother to adults. I think that's such a delicious component that I wish they leaned into more. She is grieving her babies. She is allowed to feel those feelings and feel confused and unsure and struggle with accepting this new dynamic with her children. But a big part of Mary's arc in s12, which culminates in 12x22 with "I need you to see me" is that she is the one stuck in the past, needing to accept her reality and "SEE" her children for who they are now. That's what the arc is moving towards, that acceptance. And after s12 we see her and Dean have a better relationship. We see her still getting to be Mary the person AND Mary the "mom." She hunts, she comes and goes, but she's someone Dean can talk to, share a meal with, spend time together. It's what he always wanted most. He tells her in 14x11 that "just knowing you're around, that you're alive has meant everything to me."

Anyways, I won't ramble about all that again because I've made a bunch of posts about it already. But yes, I think it's normal for Dean (and Sam) to want Mary to comfort them, do nice things for them, the way any parent or really a family member in general might do. They are not asking for kisses on their boo-boos and getting tucked into bed with a bedtime story, which is how a lot of deancrit posts read. What they want is some sort of familial reciprocal care. Like the way Dean spends quality time with those he loves. The way he baked a cake for Jack. Cooks for his family. The way he gives people gifts. The way he fixes Cas's truck. The way he calls to check in on people. He doesn't do these things out of some obligation or playing some "role", he does them because he cares. Because he loves his family, and that's just what family does for each other.

Someone in my tags last night said it very well that what Dean really wanted was just, another family member, to spend time with, to share their joys and burdens with. Someone like Bobby, that he could turn to if he needed. Bobby was a parent figure but he wasn't "parenting" them, y'know? He was someone Dean could lean on, but he didn't expect Bobby to shoulder all his burdens. And I think that's what Dean wants most. Just someone he can lean on and rely on, since he's been having to be the strong one for everyone his whole life.

#replies #dean and mary #spn 12x14 #spn 12x22 #spn 14x11

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severus-snaps · 1 year ago

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Legilimency & Occlumency & Emotion

i was reading something somewhere (possibly on my binge of metas last night, but who knows) that Snape was very talented at Occlumency, but just about average at Legilimency - but I respectfully disagree, and here's a whole (3k word) accidental ramble about it, which started as an observation and devolved into how I think Legilimency/Occlumency works in the context of Snape and Voldemort, and why I interpret it differently than it being (entirely) magical dissociation and actually quite an emotion-based skill once it's more complex TLDR: I've often seen Occlumency described/conceptualised as a "shield" or some kind of suppressed emotionless state, but I discovered upon writing this that I think it can be quite a bit more complex and emotional, actually - just like Snape <3

Snape's Talents

The idea that got me rambling today went something like "Draco, who only had a handful of lessons from Bellatrix, was able to keep Snape out of his mind using Occlumency - so Snape can't have been a very good Legilimens, or Occlumency was easy to do"

And I do agree that Snape was probably better at Occlumency than Legilimency by sheer quantity of practice alone - and also that, outside of using it on Harry (and Draco) when they were up to mischief, and Snape likely wishing he could use it to work out what Dumbledore was hiding from him, Snape had no desire to see, hear, interpret or otherwise get the gist of what anyone at Hogwarts was thinking - but especially not a bunch of pubescent students, nor colleagues who liked him on a surface level but obviously were not close enough to think Something Was Up when he killed Dumbledore (which, fair in some ways, unfair in others, but I digress)

[side note: Snape can't have just not used Occlumency for over a decade before Voldemort's return, so I like to think of him and Dumbledore practicing to keep his skills sharp - although I expect that would be another 'fun' way for Dumbledore to hold Snape in chains which would make for an interesting fic]

I suspect that if Snape had chosen to, he could've invaded Draco's mind in that scene, broken through whatever defenses Draco used - but that's not a very Snape thing to do to a student, and especially not one he knows well, was a family friend of, has closely seen grow up, and probably has a soft spot for. It's very reminiscent of his conversation with Narcissa, to me. Throughout that entire conversation with Draco, Snape was trying to comfort Draco, empathise with him, get Draco to trust him, confide in him, offer support to Draco whether he wanted it or not - not further alienate him to a point where Snape couldn't help. And besides, invading Draco's mind aggressively doesn't sit very well with his vow "to the best of your ability, protect him from harm".

And as for Harry's lessons, Harry was using spells - which Snape seemed surprised, interested, and almost impressed to learn that were effective against Legilimency, which isn't surprising in itself as it's not a widely used area of magic. And since Harry had no idea that Snape (and probably Dumbledore) were 'reading his mind' for years before he learnt about Legi/Occlumency, I don't expect many people would know if Snape used it, or put up a fight using those methods - other Death Eaters probably stuck to Occluding, because it would hardly garner any favour if they cast a stinging hex or Protego at Voldemort or in a DE meeting Which brings me back to my other point as well, which was that "Occlumency possibly wasn't difficult to do". On a rudimentary level that might be true (at least insofar as any advanced magic was difficult to do - Harry was actually quite talented, e.g. casting a corporeal patronus at 13/14 or whatever, and Draco could do it after a few lessons with Bellatrix). Harry learnt almost despite Snape, because he didn't take instruction from him well and because Snape is (intentionally) abrasive in lessons (which I could go on about, since Snape couldn't really be nice to Harry when Voldemort was possibly looking through harry's eyes at any given moment - and as other metas have pointed out was another layer to Snape's rage when Harry looked at his memories). But Snape could do it without a wand, without an incantation, so he was reasonably skilled - imagine casting a full body Patronus or other impressive spell with neither a wand nor an incantation

Also we don't know precisely how long Draco had lessons for, it might have been loads and he was actually pretty good, or it might have been 3 and he was awful. But unlike Snape, who is not the greatest Legilimens of all time (that's apparently Voldemort?), it was glaringly obvious to him that Draco was using Occlumency - Snape had him sussed in like 3 seconds, and chose not to go any further for the reasons I outlined above - which interestingly he did not do with Harry, when faced with finding out where Harry learnt Sectumsempra (but at that point both Snape and Draco's life had been on the line - if Draco dies, presumably so does Snape?)

Which brings me back to Snape... How I think Legilimency/Occlumency works (sometimes)

You have no subtlety The mind is a complex and many-layered thing It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in [Voldemort's] presence without detection.

There's a lot to take in there, and also pretty ballsy to say to Voldemort-by-proxy (Harry), which might reduce the validity of my idea that Snape didn't want to be nice to Harry during their lessons in case Voldemort was watching, since Snape's pretty happy to give Voldemort (and the reader, more likely) a complete insight into what he's himself doing... although I expect that Voldemort has considered this, and also doesn't recognise the limits of his own power - or the extent of Snape's.

I also wonder whether the 'certain conditions' are something simple, like eye contact being made or the spell being cast, or whether there's something to the mental state of the 'caster' at the time as well, like there is with Occlumency walls/shields and being calm and empty-headed, or whether the conditions is the Occluder themselves presenting (or not presenting) some alternative things to interpret. One of the wizarding world (I think) pages says Snape trained a 'slight natural ability', so that makes me wonder more, as well, but i digress.

But my second point is this: Snape's talents weren't Occluding by total shutdown, or Occlumency 'shields' which always now irk me in fanfiction (this I'm definitely drawing from another meta but I have no idea where, so... apologies). Snape wasn't throwing up a wall in front of entire memories or thoughts, for the most part. Although I expect that between the Pensieve and Draco's example use of Occlumency, that was sometimes a function (e.g. some of the things Dumbledore told Snape to pass along, he'd have to entirely block out, alter, or otherwise adapt those memories to make it look as though Snape had passed information along of his own volition against Dumbledore's orders, or hide the fact that he'd helped Dumbledore when he was supposed to be helping Voldemort, etc).

So inkeeping with my own questionable metaphor, where Draco threw up a wall - metaphorically crumbling, last-minute, cowboy builder Occlumency where the wall would hold but you could see it very clearly and obviously; where with a lesser Occlumens the wall was nice enough, but you could see where the paint job didn't quite match up and the plastering wasn't done very evenly; Snape had the whole house set up so that you didn't know the wall wasn't there from the start, and probably had a few artfully chosen scuffs to make it seem real, or it was some kind of trapdoor under the carpet. (okay the metaphor died, but I've been watching a lot of remodelling shows lately, you get the point if you've read this far)

In another metaphor I imagine detecting a lie to be like running your fingertips along a smooth surface and finding a lip or a bump - you could then, pick at it, poke at it, tear it open. You could sense that something was being hidden, or withheld. But there were no lips or snags in Snape's thoughts; potentially Voldemort could simply not detect them, not even when he searched him openly, repeatedly, full eye contact, at the table at Malfoy Manor. Snape welcomed Voldemort into his (it's just occurred to me, but "mind palace") and Voldemort repeatedly, for years, could not tell that anything was amiss, and presumably Voldemort did this with much more ferocity (and skill) than Snape looking at Harry for 2 seconds and immediately summoning Harry's mental image of the Prince's copy of Advanced Potions Making

But it can't be down to detection alone. There's also a level of interpretation to Legilimency. So here I'm focusing on a more interesting aspect to me, which is how emotion is used in Legilimency/Occlumency. Obviously, Snape isn't Occluding all the time, and as much as I adore Alan Rickman, book!Snape was naturally a total petty, stuttering mess (love him for it) who only wishes he had Alan Rickman's gravitas, and could on occasion emulate it.

I told you to empty yourself of emotion! … Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers!

I think this quote is interesting for many reasons I probably won't be able to connect properly and are in no particular order beyond how I thought of them

Snape is emotional here when he says it, he's angry, annoyed, upset, and it's an honest feeling, and he's obviously not devoid of emotion but can still Occlude Harry

Snape is an emotional person, much as he tries to pretend not to be, and can still Occlude Voldemort just fine even on the night he thinks he's marching to his death at the end of GoF

Much like how many other kinds of magic require lots of study and a strong emotion/will/conscious thought at the start, perhaps it become easier with experience to the point where this advice is not essential (e.g. kind of like driving, I no longer have to think about changing gears like I did as a Learner)

Snape is also talking about himself here, indicative of Snape's worldview where showing 'weak' emotions is the problem - soft emotions, vulnerability, "never tell".

"Provoke" is exactly what Voldemort does to Harry

This is Occlumency 101; Snape's teaching Harry the most basic of Occlumency - to compartmentalise, to block someone out, to throw up that shoddy but sturdy-enough wall for Voldemort to come up against, like Draco did to Snape. Harry's anger and emotion is a weakness in this basic Occlumency lesson, where Voldemort is trying to look through Harry and/or trick/provoke him; thus, the wall.

But this probably isn't the kind of Legilimency Voldemort would use on Snape (which is to see if he's lying, if his information is real, if his values are aligned, etc), and it probably isn't the kind of Occlumency Snape was doing in return, to lie or deflect suspicion or ingratiate himself. In fact, throwing up a wall is the opposite of what Snape does with Voldemort; Snape lets him in, lets him stare him down in front of an audience, all the while showing Voldemort what he wants to see. I think as well there's an element of a Legilimens 'grasping' for something, searching, "provoking", like how Snape 'grasped' for Harry's memories of Advanced Potions Making, how Voldemort appears to search Snape at Malfoy Manor - so if all Snape presents is a memory, empty, devoid of any complexity, Voldemort would question it.

In my interpretation, when Occluding, Snape displays a different type of emotional control; Complex Occlumency means you control your emotions, yes, but not block them off - Snape takes his emotions where they need to go, makes them do what they need to do, to support the interpretation he wants Voldemort to reach. He chooses to some extent what Voldemort sees if he lies outright or omits details (a well made wall, basic Occlumency), and chooses how to present it (complex Occlumency). And he does it with subtlety; he doesn't often outright lie, and there's a lot left to interpretation - in both Snape's speech (with Bellatrix) and his actions throughout the books, and presumably his Occlumency.

So I suggest that Snape, in a situation with Voldemort, must be able to "lift up" or "lean into" an alternative emotion for interpretation - the decoration around the wall, the interior design, if you will. For example, Snape couldn't tell Voldemort that he desired Lily, in a total absence of any feelings at all, without it coming across as false and thus easily detectable as a lie. And you know that when a young Snape, who's hardly made a name for himself (Snape's likely never killed, at least, and isn't especially memorable to anyone in Azkaban and is last named by Karkaroff, and other things I won't go into here) outside of overhearing half a prophecy begs for a Mudblood Order member who's the mother of Voldemort's downfall who's thrice defied him to be spared, you can bet that Voldemort will want to thoroughly find out why, so...

To me this suggests that there was a level of desire there that Snape could 'lean into', whether that desire be for Lily or someone else he found desirable to act as a kind of substitute - though given that Legilimency seems to work on mental images and memories at least in part, a memory where he desired Lily would've been useful. And I'm just using that as an example, because Voldemort would also presumably at some stage have interrogated what Snape thought of Dumbledore and Harry, and Snape would've had to lean into feelings of hatred and loathing - which he'd manage just fine for Harry, but Snape would have leant into his feelings after Dumbledore silenced him after nearly getting eaten by a werewolf and again freeing Sirius in PoA, but I digress

When Harry finally learns Occlumency (by his own admission) in the wake of Dobby's death, it's grief that helps him master it - which, for me personally, is not a detached, clear-headed feeling in any sense. It's visceral, emotional, and painful; all-consuming. It's love/grief/loss/strong loving emotion that forces Voldemort out, after he loses Sirius and again when he loses Dobby. But it's a contrast to the emotions Voldemort uses of Harry's to draw Harry out, via his fears for Sirius. But with grief, Harry's dived headfirst into feeling what Voldemort doesn't want to feel (unlike the anger), to keep Voldemort out of his mind. Whereas Snape would do the opposite, and dive right in to the feelings Voldemort would want to sense - to the exclusion of others. Would Voldemort even think to search for Snape's love for Lily, if he was first presented with something more visceral, with more negative connotations, like desire or jealousy, hurt or betrayal? These are the emotions Voldemort thrives on and can exploit, that he's familiar with, that he understands. In the context then of 'grasping' that's how I think Snape leads Voldemort down a path of believing him - by bringing honest 'negative' emotions to the fore that Voldemort understands.

this is really where I think skilled Occlumency differs from dissociation or wall-building. I think Snape would simultaneously have to dampen his 'lie' feelings and to raise the volume on the 'fitting' feelings for his chosen interpretation. My interpretation of this all stems from my experience of writing, of getting lost in music, in using those activities to "wallow" in certain feelings. Snape does not present Voldemort with his true feelings, but they are real feelings. So in that way, I feel Snape was like an artist or writer; he felt deeply, he felt conflictingly, and dived headfirst into those wells of emotion when he needed to - diving so deeply that it cuts off and hides the conflicting evidence. I feel that when I'm writing, when I'm listening to music, when I'm wallowing. And I feel a lot of sympathy for Snape, because it can feel like a real whiplash when you're midway through writing an intense scene or listening to some excellent music that really fills you up with something, it can take you to some dark places, and it's quite shocking somehow when abruptly interrupted - which would be what his life was constantly like after Voldemort's return, leaning into and shying away from/shutting down emotions and memories he didn't necessarily feel whenever he was called, and then having to return to work or meetings in that headspace, where everything feels out of touch and you're in internal turmoil. (Granted, I can snap out of it because the music or the writing is neither here nor there, really, but he'd be doing it with his own life experiences, with his own life on the line, and to repay a debt of guilt - there's a lot more emotional baggage there, and even more once Dumbledore died). And I think it would take its toll in other ways, too, which leads me to Lily...

Far from some people's cries that possessive or obsessive attraction or desire is some huge moral failing, I'd argue that you'll find a level of it in most teenagers and indeed the regular spectrum of human emotion - I know I've certainly experienced feelings of intense jealousy and whatever 'Snaters' (I'm not a massive fan of the term, but as a shorthand) accuse Snape of, whether I acted on it or not. So I'd suggest that Snape 'leant into' that for the sake of being on the receiving end of Voldemort's Legilimency. Whether Snape regularly, or actually, felt those emotions of his own free will or not is hard to say - since there's no actual evidence he did act possessive or jealous beyond the normal teenager level (and that's without addressing the fact that we didn't know how he would've ended the sentence "I won't let you -"). And I'd also go as far as to say that Snape probably, truly, had some awful thoughts (don't we all?) and so he was able to lean into some very dark and gloomy nooks and crannies of his mind, the parts we're told healthy people steer clear of acting on but also undoubtedly experience (jealousy, possession, rage, bitterness) in much the same way as a writer, artist, or musician might, to make his 'lies' and the stories he told more 'truthful' - which was why Voldemort trusted him so much.

TLDR: Snape's a man of many contraditions and very much emotional depth, and he manipulated his own emotions (likely to the detriment of his mental health) for years. But just as I, a fanfic writer, can vicariously experience the bitter resentment for a person who doesn't love me, can imagine a world where he can think those thoughts, embody them, and still not take them on as part of his identity.

anyway i don't have a conclusion, I just had thoughts

[Side note not strictly related to ANY of the above: I find it interesting as well that Voldemort's skill is apparently specifically in working out whether people are lying to him, suggesting that you could specialise even further into different aspects of behaviour. But people do lie to Voldemort (Narcissa, Snape, off the top of my head, but there's no indication of Voldemort using Legilimency on Narcissa in that moment where Harry lives - Voldemort was too elated, once again caught up in his own glory). [side side note: Harry's treatment after his 'death' does make me wonder, briefly, about Snape's own treatment when he returned at the end of GoF - public torture and humiliation, an opportunity for the other DEs to turn on one of their own to 'increase their own standing' in Voldemort's eyes, crucio to weaken Snape's defences, to check that his information and loyalty true? i get the impression that Snape shared his information with Voldemort privately, given that Bellatrix didn't seem to know much about Snape's return, but who's to say there wasn't some 'fun' beforehand, or at other points during his time as spy]

#snape meta #severus snape #pro snape #professor snape #snape fandom #snape #legilimency #occlumency #long post #my thoughts #snaps-meta

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katatonicimpression · 19 days ago

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in your opinion, what’s the best sam wilson comic run?

So, a few disclaimers:

I haven't read a huge percentage of Sam's comics. There's so much I haven't read. He's been around since the 60s. There's a lot to read and I'm nowhere near an expert.

So much of Sam's back catalogue is very racist. Anyone who's read a lot of old marvel won't be surprised by this. We're going into this with the assumption that we're all adults here. We're mature readers who are able to parse caricature and trope, understand the popular attitudes at the time that led to their inclusion, and understand that this writing and art being congruous with its place in history doesnt absolve it of anything. We learn context to better understand things, not to excuse them. We're able to recognise and critique what ought to be critiqued and also appreciate the things that do work.

Perhaps surprisingly, this problem doesn't get better over time in a linear way like you might expect.

No sam run is perfect. All of them have flaws and are worthy of criticism. Again, we're mature readers and all that. Many individual comic issues are very good for sam, but they're mostly scattered around the place.

PART 1: Reading Guides

This section was supposed to link to a bunch of Sam comic recs but tumblr is functionally unsearchable. But there's a few recs here, and a reading guide here.

So, let this post also be a call to action for anyone who has a reading guide! Link it! Send it to me and I'll share it! Make. Tumblr. Usable.

For my part, I've been slowly making my way through his appearances chronologically, and also keeping up with his new stuff for the last few years. There's a reason for that approach, which we'll get to in Part 3.

For reference, this is a very detailed list of Sam's comic appearances (probably too detailed, and contains a lot of wordless cameos, and I do hate that website and can't guarantee its not missing anything). This might be useful to refer back to when hopping about through different storylines etc. They're listed by volume number, which is annoying. It's easier to search for comics by the year they started in.

PART 2: Sam's Solo Series

The bulk of Sam's appearances are in supporting roles in Steve's comics. He's also been present in many Avengers runs, but mostly not in a prominant role.

But for now, a list of most of the comics where Sam is a main character, red for solos, blue for ensemble:

Captain America (1963) #117 onwards

He's not in every issue, but he gets actual attention as a protagonist at times so it made the list. Various writers over the years.

Marvel Premiere (1972) #49

Random oneshot with a theme about free speech. It's not good, but it exists and he's the lead. By Mark Evanier

Falcon (1983) #1-4

Sam's first solo title, a mini series. By Jim Owlsey

Marvel Fanfare (1996) #1

"Captain America and the Falcon, together again... for their final adventure!". It's got his name on the cover. Have not read. Assume it's bad, lol. By Jaimie Campos.

Captain America and the Falcon (2004) #1-14

Steve and Sam. Technically sam is a main because he's in the title. By Christopher Priest.

Captain America and the Falcon (2011) #1

Sam and buckycap one-shot. By Rob Williams.

All-New Captain America: Fear Him Infinite Comic (2014) #1-6

Another limited series, iirc there's too much Ian Rogers in it for my liking. By Dennis Hallum

All-New Captain America (2015) #1-6

Samcap, by way of Rick Remender.

Captain America and the Mighty Avengers (2015) #1-9

Hey it's Sam leading the avengers, by Al Ewing.

Captain America: Sam Wilson (2015) #1-24

Samcap again, different title, different author, generally better. By Nick Spencer

All-New, All-Different Avengers (2016) #1-15

Once again, "main character" is a stretch here. But here's sam cap and the avengers. By Mark Waid

Falcon (2017) #1-8

Little solo run, by Rodney Barnes

Falcon & Winter Soldier (2021) #1-5

Limited series about bucky. Sam is also there, retconned into being a therapist so that he look after the most special of boys. By Derek Landy

Captain America: Symbol of Truth (2022) #1-14

Recent solo run. By Tochi Onyebuchi

Avengers (2023) #1-?

Ongoing avengers title, sam gets featured sometimes. Includes the Blood Hunt event. By Jed McKay

Sam Wilson, Captain America (2025) #1-5

Sam's current solo title. So far, a resolved 5 issue arc, no idea what's next for him. By Greg Pak and Evan Narcisse

PART 3: Katatonicimpression's Guide to Sam's Eras

1969- mid 70s - Captain America and the Falcon: Hippy Era

Sam is introduced as a social worker who's into falconry (captain america (1963) #117). He's a pacifist, and politically more radical and to the left of steve. He's explicitly anti government and defends the necessity of violent protest. He's "anti nuclear" which is presumably synedoche for being "ban the bomb"/anti war although he is never allowed to express such sentiment. The politics of these comics were actively censored by the comics code, a mccarthy-era set of rules for limiting subversive/communist messaging in comic books.

On the one hand, it's fun that Sam is a lefty. On the other hand, this stuff is not necessarily handled well. His girlfriend Leila is written as a caricature of a Black activist and radical feminist. Both characters get uncomfortable stereotyped dialogue (all these comics are written by white men) and art (all these comics are drawn by white men).

Nevertheless, this era is what gives us Sam's key traits, expands on his lore (telepathic mutant, wakandan wings) and it's where you'll find figaro the cat. It's sam as a somewhat countercultural figure with internal conflict regarding working with steve, and his own perception within his community.

Late 70s - Captain America and the Falcon: This is why Reagan Won

So, marvel was really into exploitation movies in the 70s (that's why early Luke Cage is like that). And America was really into these narratives about "urban crime".... we know what they mean by that. This is the context from which marvel decided they needed to "fix" sam to make him more in line with their bizarre attitudes about what a black new yorker should be like.

Sam gets retconned into having a criminal backstory (specifically as a local gangster called "snap wilson"... this is where I paused my read through of the cap comics. It's bad you guys). Over time, Leila becomes more of a "belligerent housewife" trope, and still very much hypersexualised. The whole thing is awful. Then jack kirby takes over the series and forgets about sam for a while. Figaro is never seen again. Things get worse. End of an era.

80s - Rounding up the Lineup

Once we're into the 80s proper, sam mostly appears (aside from his one mini solo - which embarassingly features reagan as a character lol) as part of Steve's entourage. Often in a group with Dennis (yay), walker (boo) and jack (literally who cares). Occasionally he has things to do, often not a lot. Characterisation is all over the place tbh.

90s - Barely There

I haven't read many 90s comics with sam in them, and I swear most of the marvel I've read is 90s... but I guess that's mostly xmen. Sam, alas, doesn't get to hang out with those cool kids. He's around, turns up in Avengers teams and as part of Steve's entourage sometimes. He gets retconned into not being a mutant around the turn of the millennium.

00s - early 2010s - Barely There, Cursed Edition

The 00s are just the worst marvel era. I'll die on that hill. Anyway, for sam, this is some horrible art and amongst other things, the most regrettable "romance" arc sam ever had, featuring a character so problematic she is no longer in comics. A lot of ooc appearances and an "I can't be bothered to Google it" approach to his continuity and personality.

Late 00s into the early 2010s sees sam with an increase in credited appearances (the modern era of constant crossover events had begun), but they're mostly small and very much in a supporting role.

2014- late 2010s - Sam Cap 1.0

Woohoo sam matters again! And they undid the snap wilson retcon! Instead, all of that nonsense was false memories implanted by the red skull to fuck with him (oh yeah scifi!Hitler was involved in this whole thing). They still keep him as not a mutant unfortunately.

This era is where we meet joaquin, and sam starts an undefined relationship with Misty Knight. This is when he briefly has those two and Dennis as his team. He's also in the Avengers, where he has an affair with the mighty thor. Sam's slut era, if you will. He gets some decent writing for once, although not perfect. This era basically ends with secret wars/secret empire, when the presence of stevil (evil steve, aka hydra steve) causes him to spiral and eventually quit.

Late 2010s - 2022 - Falcon Sabbatical

Sam's the falcon again. Similar vibes to the cap 1.0 era in terms of characterisation (i.e. sometimes bland and shallow but not usually aggressively awful). This is where we get that falcon and winter soldier comic that I hated. But you might like it. Have your own opinions, as always.

2022 - Present - Sam Cap 2.0

This era starts a little bleak tbh. We have sam and steve as cap simultaneously, but with marvel clearly caring more about steve and publishing a ridiculous amount more of him. Sam's series is symbol of truth, which is okay. I didn't love it but again, form your own opinions. That all culminates in the "cold war" event that was (imo) bad, and had nothing to do with sam either way.

Then we have mckays avengers (2023) which mostly characterises sam well. But it also lacks something in how it utilises his powers and idk... like.. it feels like mckay wanted steve and is just not that interested in sam? But it's not awful. I'd highlight #4 for the sam and tchalla interactions (that are a direct consequence of their scenes in symbol of truth) and #25 which is last months issue (and presumably next month will also be sam focused).

We also have the avengers united infinity comic. The "beware the dreamer" arc (#36-45) by justina Ireland is a solid run for sam. The issues after that are fine. I would warn any sam fan (or any Black reader) that the opening arc by Derek Landy depicts sam being violently beaten in a way that is viscerally uncomfortable to read. It's also a badly written arc. Even if you are comfortable with the violence, the writing fucking sucks.

We also have his most recent solo which is a 5 issue arc. It's okay. Good bird energy.

Samcap 2.0 is an odd vibe. There's a sense of obligation to it, that they made him cap again to be synergistic with the MCU. But at the same time, as I've talked about to no end, it's a good thing that they did it. He's better utilised as cap. He's still with Misty, and still has Joaquin. He's got his frenemies (to lovers arc iktr) with t'challa, and has a growing friendship with Ororo, which is nice to see. There's also his cousin Billie (Wilhemina) and Josiah X (isaiah's son, Eli's uncle)

My point?

I think if you're looking for Sam comics that are free from the very obvious nonsense, then stick with post 2014 stuff. However, as I mentioned with that infinity comic, even stuff from the last year can be staggeringly offensive. Additionally, I do think that a lot of what's needed to really understand Sam as a character is in the early 70s, despite a lot of jank.

PART 4: Answering the Actual Ask

I would want to revisit his 2015 solo (spencer) before recommending it with my whole chest, because while I like a lot of its art (save me daniel acuna save me), it does have some rough patches writing wise.

I feel like the answers you seek are probably in that 2014-17 era.

Unfortunately the only things I've read recently enough to recommend with a fully formed opinion are from the last few years. I would say (assuming you're pirating these), give symbol of truth and avengers 2023 a go, and his 2025 solo. I'd avoid the Captain America crossover events from the last few years, they're not worth it.

Then do what we all do, which is jump around for a bit, then dive in super deep at whatever piques your interest.

This has reminded me to continue my read through of the 1963 title, if nothing else.

#sam wilson #anon #hopefully this is helpful #i yapped

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago

Note

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎 ok idk how many that is but that much or max idk 🤭

Hahaha 1k for 🍎:

---

Eddie chuckles awkwardly and shakes his head.

“Uh, sorry. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Am I…” Buck sucks in a nervous breath. “I’m not putting you out, am I? I don’t have to stay here if-”

“I want you here,” Eddie cuts him off. “I mean, I wish… You know I wish you’d talk things through with Bobby in LA. But… But I’m always happy to have you here. I missed you.”

Buck exhales. “I missed you, too.”

“I was thinking I could call Chris?” Eddie asks. “Tell him you’re here?”

Buck grins. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

iii.

Bobby has to sit with it for twenty-four hours. Twenty-four. An entire shift.

Buck is inTexas. He fled there very quickly after taking a bunch of leave. He’s angry at Bobby and won’t talk to him or tell him why. Eddie seems to think the answer is in a genealogy website. The last thing Buck and Bobby talked about that wasn’t directly shift-related was Buck asking Bobby if he could possibly have any siblings other than Charlie.

It’s not lost on Bobby. He’s not an idiot. He can connect the threads of this puzzle without sending in a swab of his spit.

Buck must have gone on one of these websites to get answers about his own adoption. He must have found a connection. All Bobby needs is to hear from Charlie to confirm it.

Bobby really never expected it. After all, what were the chances? There were 4,110,907 babies born in the United States in 1991. Buck’s birthday is in June. Bobby’s child, the one he was never able to find, wasn’t due until July. And what? After years of fruitless searching, he was supposed to think that his child simply walked up the stairs of the fire station he coincidentally ended up at, literally looking for him? No. The thought was too storybook perfect. Too unlikely. And by the time Bobby learned it was an option, when Buck learned he didn’t know his origins after all, he already cared far too much about Buck to entertain the notion. He wouldn’t wish this on him, even if he might wish it for himself.

So he never considered it. He never expected it. But now it’s all he can think about.

He calls his brother after his shift ends. He’s sitting in the truck, unable to pull out of the fire station parking lot. Luckily, Hen, Chim, and Ravi have already left. He doesn’t want them to see whatever reaction he might have to the news he’s about to get.

“Hey, Bobby,” Charlie picks up.

“Hey, Charlie,” Bobby replies. He can hear the tension in his own voice.

“What’s up?”

“I have a bit of a strange question,” Bobby says. “But it’s sort of connected to what we talked about in the hospital, a little bit ago.”

“Okay,” Charlie replies, sounding confused. “What is it?”

“Do you have a TreeBranchGeneology.Net account?” Bobby asks.

“Oh,” Charlie replies. “Yeah, I do. I signed up two years ago, hoping I could maybe find some long lost Nash cousins or something and…”

Charlie trails off.

“And my kid,” Bobby finishes for him.

“Mom asked about it,” Charlie says. “She thinks about them, you know? Her only grandchild that’s…”

Really? She never cared to meet the other two. Missed that chance. And they weren’t even lost. They were right there. But Bobby isn’t calling to fight about their mother.

“Charlie, did you ever make any connections on there?” Bobby asks.

“No,” Charlie says. “Though, it’s been a while since I checked.”

“Can you check again, please? It’s important.”

Bobby could do as Eddie advised and sign up for an account himself. Send in his DNA. But that would take days. Weeks. He needs to know now.

“This is about the kid?”

“Please, Charlie.”

“Okay, hold on. Let me just try to log in…”

Bobby waits through three failed password attempts, a reset, and an eventual successful login. It’s sort of agonizing. But beggars can’t be choosers.

“Okay, I’m in,” Charlie says. “Oh! And I have a new connection notification.”

Bobby goes stiff. “Please read it.”

“Wow, Bobby… It’s them. It’s your kid. He’s my likely… Likely nephew.”

“Who?” Bobby begs.

“Says his name is Evan Buckley.”

“Oh god,” Bobby exhales.

So it’s true, then. Buck is his son. The child he never got the chance to know. It’s Buck. It’s been Buck this whole time.

It’s Buck.

Buck is his son.

“Bobby, do you know him?”

Does he know him? He held his dead body in his arms and watched him be resurrected. He taught him to cook. He has laughed with him, cried with him, fought with him. He has been dragged into the shower in a drunken stupor by him. He has saved him and been saved by him. He has loved him like his own for years, never knowing it was true.

And the moment Buck learned the truth, he ran.

“Yes,” Bobby whispers. “I know him.”

🍎

He can’t blame Buck. That’s the thing. He wants to be hurt. He is hurt. But he isn’t angry. What would Bobby do, in Buck’s position? Probably not celebrate that his biological father killed his only other children. Maybe Buck is just carving himself a safe distance.

He tries calling him again. It’s stupid. Really stupid. Buck didn’t pick up before, and nothing has changed. He doesn’t pick up now.

Bobby tries leaving a voicemail. It doesn’t go well.

“Buck… I just… Uh… I had this conversation with my… You know what? Nevermind. Please call me back. I understand, okay? Just call me back.”

#daisies and briars writes #for all the love you've left behind fic

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dazedantics · 2 months ago

Text

So I just finished binging Invincible and wanna talk about it. Other than the show, I know nothing about it, the comic or the people involved in making the animated series. So this isn't focused on any behind the scenes or stuff like that, just my immediate thoughts. Spoilers I guess

First, I had known it through memes back when it was first coming out. I thought the style looked like something I'd be interested in so I was like, "yeah I'll check it out" then promptly forgot about it. Then it kinda started resurfacing again with fanfics so I was like, "now I really gotta watch it."

I knew it'd be bloody and I knew it was superheroes.

Still wasn't prepared for it.

Anyways, I loved it. The small details really had me, like the demon detective causing the rooms he was in to be really cold, Debbie's clothes drawn more flowy when she starts to relax, or how Mark was drawn more tired as the series went on. I also loved how characters with brief appearances in the beginning were always brought back later, like "Hey I remember you."

I also liked how it started pretty basic, like the original guardians all seemed to be copies of already well known heros (Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Batman, etc.) So you kinda expect the same type of heroic story to unfold. But then BAM! You got a whole bunch of bloodshed and betrayal from the get-go. We're not in Kansas anymore Smallville

Which let me talk about the blood for a minute. There is. So. Much. Blood. Like I feel like I saw Mark in more red than he ever was in blue, my God. And the title screen changes? First season of getting splattered with blood, more and more of it till fully covered? I loved that detail. Plus how all the other title changes afterwards looked, one of them being the screen cracking and crumbling until a new colored title was left, I feel like it really fit with the show like how Mark's world, and he himself, was changing, becoming gruesome or broken or just different. Loved the title screens. Plus how, at first, no one said the name "Invincible" just cutting to the title screen. That was fun.

I liked Mark's relationships too, like they felt real which I'm not usually a fan of (the drama of it). But he worked through it so well, so did the people he was with (his mom, Eve, Amber, William). They were all oddly sweet and understanding and I thought it was nice to see. Even his bad relationships were pretty real feeling (with Cecil, his dad, the other heroes). Those moments when they were focused on made me think "Mark's really sweet" and "Mark is a good guy" in both the personal and heroic sense.

Which is a perfect detail to have me thinking through the story because that's essentially what he's struggling through. Wanting to be the good guy, do the right thing, help/save everyone. But not always being able to because there's to many things to do, too many people to save. Having to wonder if being a full and true good guy is the right thing. Being slowly broken down by that worry, by the people starting to blame you for one wrong thing over looking at the multitude of good.

And later in the show making his brother Oliver be the voice in his head to cause him to doubt the straight path even more. Having Oliver, such a small and young kid so blatantly okay with killing and encouraging Mark to do it as well? That was such a good detail. Cause, maybe Oliver is full alien and the mindset might be different, but you don't expect that from a child. And since he's his brother, Mark would slowly become more inclined to listen. He'll have to decide what he's okay with, what type of hero he wants to be. You hope for the best, cause you know he's good, but want to see what breaks him, if he can pull himself out of it.

It was nice to see Mark drop out of college too, then see him needing to still live with his mom for afterwards. That's sounds weird but I mean it's nice since there are a lot of people who do the same, which further helps build a connection to him. It was nice to see how different characters felt toward college too, like Mark had bad grades, yes cause superhero stuff, but people go through that and go despite it. And his main reason for going wasn't cause it's something he was pushed towards, it was for his girlfriend which is also a relatable motivator for some people. Amber just always wanted to go, William's motives seemed like a mix between Mark and Amber's (going just cause and for his to be boyfriend). Then there's Eve who didn't want to go, which a lot of people don't, but then decided it was better if she did, and some people change their minds the same way.

I also loved how multiple different types of a family could be portrayed. Eve with parents she wants to get away from, Rex with no family, many heroes only being seen for their experimental value, and Mark with the perfect family. Mark who goes from the ideal setting to being broken, fighting between parents then between parent and kid. I thought it was a unique detail. More ways for an audience to relate.

And the fighting between parent and kid?

I kinda wish that Omni-man was a full on bad guy cause it'd be interesting. But there are plenty of other straight bad guys for that, and then it'd leave the story at a bit of a stand still, kinda make Omni-man irrelevant. But that part's not too important.

Getting to see him be the perfect father and husband at first? Then see him for the first time hint that he may be hiding something when he (what we learn is the first ever time) punched Mark for training? Hearing how Mark felt about it then seeing the two hug and make up? It was sweet. You root for things to say nice and perfect, hope they'll work things out.

Then that doesn't happen. There's hiding and snooping, lies and manipulation. The dropping of a persona. Admission of it all, of what the true intent was the whole time, saying your family basically didn't matter? That your wife was a pet?

And father and son fight.

And it is grotesque and bloody, unforgiving and angry. Millions of civilians caught in the battle, Mark feeling at fault for it. I felt so hurt watching it, just thinking "how could you do that to your kid?" Then hearing a battered and bruised, barely breathing Mark say "I'd still have you, Dad." Seeing how much he still loves him despite all of this? My soul is in pain.

And Omni-man just vanishes without a word.

Very sad and beautiful.

And his mom needing to point out how much she did for Mark, how unappreciated her work went by others and herself? A very real situation. Having a kid so in awe by a parent who is out there working, or something similar, but not really caring too much about the one at home? Starting to break down once realizing it, having to do things by yourself officially despite technically having always done it. Also sad and heart wrenching

Two sides to the same coin

But not just Mark got the scenes to pull at your heartstrings. There was a few scenes of kinda unimportant people too, where they'd just talk about their situations but say how much they love where they're at despite it. Some scenes there weren't even words, but you could tell everything through the music and animation. I just feel like they did a good job making you think about the normalcy while bringing in the super stuff.

The show is just good at bringing up the realities of what a hero can face, the hardships, the pain, the worry and doubt, which really makes me love it

For all it's seriousness and heavy topics though, the show was still funny. And the voice actors did a great job with the dialogue as well. There were lines not expected from heroes, but are from normal people, which they are under the masks.

I think that's all I have to say for know

Overall, it was really good, loved watching it, and can't wait for more. I will be consuming any other Invincible stuff I can while I'm obsessed which hopefully includes reading the comics at some point

#invincible #invincible review #show thoughts #mark grayson #omni man #debbie grayson #nolan grayson #oliver grayson #atom eve #cecil stedman #rex splode #viltrumite #invincible series #superhero #animated series #invincible animated series #viltrum

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