#I promise i'm getting work ethic
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For this week's Fiction Podcast rec Thursday,
The Soft-Boiled Detective
[ ID/ The cover art of The Soft-Boiled Detective. It shows a flat colored, short, black hat with a gold band going around the base of it. It is outlined in gold. The background is black with a design mirroring that of a computer chip also highlighted in gold. In the middle "The Soft-Boiled Detective" is written in all caps in white text. /End ID]
Summary as given, “In 2420, HBD, a soft-hearted detective, teams up with Tiffany, a sardonic crematory operator who is targeted by the triad, to take on an organized crime dynasty to solve the murder of his childhood friend.”
There are currently 7 episodes out, averaging around 20 minutes each. Those 7 episodes make up the first season. The casting call for season 2 was finished in August so I think it is safe to assume a second season is in production. Content warnings are available but I don’t believe there are transcripts.
I love the soft boiled detective, it is just so! I love the way each of the characters is characterized and just everything about HBD. He’s just amazing! Its almost similar to the penumbra podcast, but its more lighthearted (though it can also get kind of heavy in some places). HBD fills all the tropes for a detective even in the future and it is amazing
They do have a Tumblr: @thesoftboileddetectivepodcast
Thank you for coming to this installment of fiction podcast rec Thursday! Apologies for this one also being later (and shorter) than usual, but I’m starting to work ahead so hopefully this won’t be a problem anymore.
#the soft-boiled detective#fiction podcasts#audio drama#audio fiction#fiction podcast rec thursday#podcast recs#podcast recommendation#described#I promise i'm getting work ethic#it just takes a while#and as allways critizem and corrections are welcomed
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#the problem with writing an old mond fic that I'm trying to explore Topics with is#it has dwelved from 'I want to write about why Amos stuck with Deca for so long and the messed up love between them'#to. oh boy. googling the life of the last emperor of china of which I am morbidly facinated with.#(terrible spineless self centered coward of a guy. treated as god since age 4)#(but also general chinese emperors and royalty who all really sucked and basing deca and amos both on a lot of that)#to general little morality things bc. its a story of how amos was complicit/supportive of terrible things under deca but still joined rebel#to. reading about the causes of revolutions???? and writing that into old mond's inherit instability and why nb's revolution worked#into now. attitudes on the ethics meat consumption of bc amos is a hunter who grew up outside of old mond and its culture#and forced into old mond's culture (<- my backstory for her)#which also has implications of Amos having to struggle to reconcile her heritage culture with the one she has to live in now#........and though it I keep forgetting that the initial thing I wanted to explore is deca/amos Problematic(tm) love#which means the plot is now a dredged down mess I'll have to fix in a second draft#......uh for anyone who thinks this sounds interesting. no promises on it actually getting finished or being good#this has spirled way out of control from its initial inception#but ya know all art has a political slant to it and boy nothing says political like 'story about revolution' so we'll see how this all goes#(this is also why I don't write fic or stories often lol I take its ideas too seriously and it completely consumes me until I finish it)#personal //
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No Words *ೃ༄
Summary: max defends his girlfriend and gets into trouble
𖤓 mv x reader ⋆。°✩
𖤓 fluff + slight humour (iykyk) ⋆。°✩
masterlist ☾☼
y/n had been a fan of formula one since she was a child. every parental figure in her life had been a fan of the sport, so it was natural and she got into it too. thankfully, it also made her realise very quickly in life that she wanted to work in the field of motorsports. she wasn't sure yet, and she was still working her way to getting into the sport, but it was a sure, clear path for her.
after meeting max, and falling in love with him, everything had changed. her family approved of the two of them, obviously, and so had his, though she hadn't cared much about jos' opinion. y/n made it clear in the beginning that she wanted to work in motorsports and she wanted to earn her place. she refused to let max talk her up or anything, because he was the kind of guy who would do just that for his girlfriend. max agreed, and promised to keep their relationship private for as long as she wanted.
it had taken her a few years. she bounced from indycar to motorgp to nascar and eventually made her way to f1 as a journalist. she had gained far more experience than she would've gotten if she had only focused on formula one, and she was confident in her abilities to finally be formula one.
max and her had stayed strong throughout, even if they kept their relationship private. she had met and become friends with daniel, lando, carlos, and all of max's friends. they often played padel together as well. mix the competitive spirits that max and she possessed, it was always fun.
after a year of being in formula one as a journalist, max and y/n had decided that it was time to stop hiding. they skipped the soft launch part, and jumped directly into the hard launch phase that left a lot of fans shook.
unfortunately, it also got her a lot of hate. y/n went from being one of the best journalists in f1 to one of the most hated ones for the same reasons that she was loved. the fans adored her because she was a woman of colour making a name for herself in such a sport, and that her parents had sacrificed a lot for her and she was making them proud. now, she was hated because her success became max's story and how he put in good words for her and how she was only with him for the money.
it broke her heart, but max was someone who had received a lot of hate before in his life, so he taught her all the ways to ignore the comments and focus on what she did best. it helped a great deal, but it also made her determined to prove that her career had nothing to do with max.
it was getting better, slowly and over time. max and y/n promised to never lose their temper on the comments. a lot of interviewers and fans had also asked the other drivers on the grid to comment on their relationship, asking if it was ethical for a journalist and a driver to date. but the other drivers always responded with the same thing, always saying how they've known max and y/n for a long time, and their relationship was no one else's business.
unfortunately, after a particularly hard race, max finally lost his cool.
"well, max, it's safe to say that this particular race of yours wasn't the best that you've performed. what do you have to say about that?"
"uh, nothing, really. we just didn't have the pace, and with some mistakes on my side, i lost a lot of points. but, i'm sure we can cover it up next race." max replied.
"you don't have to worry about us writing a bad article about you. your girlfriend and we will only be writing praises, don't you worry. the only difference would be that we won't take your hard earned money like she does," the interviewer laughed, nudging y/n.
the cameras were all focused on them, there were fans nearby, and other drivers. everyone was watching. it was live tv. the entire world was watching. the thick crowd of an audience had their gaze fixed on y/n, and all she could do in that moment was hang her head and try not to cry.
that's the moment max lost his cool. y/n was standing right there, and the interviewer had disrespected her on a very public platform.
"actually, my girlfriend will always tell me what i need to hear, whether it's good or bad. y/n y/l/n, a well known journalist, who is also standing right there with you, will write exactly what happened on track, because that's the part that she reports on. she made her own career, so fuck you for dismissing all of it." max bursted, before he stormed off.
the interviewer was spluttering, not sure how to react, but completely outraged as he forced the fia to take actions on max's outburst. y/n slipped away silently, needing to go back to max.
later on, the fia decided to punish max for using "language during the fia sunday press conference". their decision: obligation to accomplish some work of public interest.
later, an interviewer asked him if he regretted his decision of defending his girlfriend and getting a punishment, max responded, “no.”
��so, what do you think of the punishment given to you? do you think it’s fair?”
“no words.”
.⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
i hope you guys enjoyed this! i had a lot of fun writing this, mostly because i had no idea what my brain wanted me to write, but somehow i kept on typing. anyways, this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
#f1#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv33 imagine#mv33 fic#mv33#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv33 fluff#fia
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Hiii. Can I request a oneshot based on this HAHAHAH pleasee please like short oneshot will do!!! 🥰🥰 https://www.tumblr.com/svtsofthours/768423753034104832/seungcheol-jihoon-isnt-answering-his-phone?source=share
📞 do not disturb (jihoon x reader)
or: jihoon always answers. no questions asked.
★ footnotes: i debated the ethics (ethics?!) of taking this on, but i'm ultimately weak to anything and everything uji-related. prompt is fully by @svtsofthours ♡ word count: >980
Jihoon has a bad habit of leaving his phone on 'Do Not Disturb' mode.
In his line of work, getting in the flow was the most important thing. Inspiration could be dashed as easily as it came, and Jihoon's not about to risk his momentum being killed by a TikTok from Vernon or a 'wyd?' from Wonwoo.
His members call him vicious for it, but Jihoon is also the first to remind them that everything he does is for them. That's always the quickest way to shutting them up.
There are still ways to reach him, of course, when he's in the zone. Some members will drop by the studio unannounced. Some know to go through Jihoon's manager instead.
And some have begun to realize that they could simply just ask you.
It's another one of those long evenings, the type that has Jihoon feeling like his retinas are burning from all the time he's spent at his DAW. He doesn't remember the last time he looked away from the song he's working on, but it's a small price to pay for what he thinks is shaping up to be a potential title track. He just needs to tweak—
The thought is disrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone.
Without so much of a second thought, Jihoon is reaching for the device and answering the call without even checking the ID. He has at least enough wits to know that he's been on 'Do Not Disturb' since he stepped into the studio, which means the caller could only be one person.
"Hi, honey," he says.
His voice is a tired rasp but the fondness bleeds through all the same. The sudden reprieve has him sinking a little further into his computer chair, like he's just registered how utterly spent he is.
That exhaustion pales in comparison to the warmth that floods his chest when you greet him back with your ever-so sweet, "Hey, darling. Still in the studio?"
You already know the answer, and yet you still ask. Jihoon feels a little endeared by it as he absentmindedly runs his free hand over his face. "You know it," he says. "What's up?"
"Seungcheol and Soonyoung have been trying to get in touch with you," you inform him.
Jihoon raises an eyebrow. He pulls his phone away from his ear to check his lockscreen and, sure enough, you're right. Six (6) missed calls from Coups-hyung. Six (6) missed calls from Hamzzi.
"I've been working," Jihoon says into the receiver as he brings his phone back up. "Are they with you right now?"
"Just Seungcheol. Here—"
Jihoon has half a mind to tell you, no, please, do not pass the phone over to Seungcheol, but the leader's whining voice is already piercing through the call. "You answered their call in less than ten seconds!" Seungcheol proclaims, the pout in his voice audible. "What the hell, Jihoon-ah?!"
"It wasn't less than ten seconds," Jihoon protests weakly, feeling the tips of his ears burn red at the insinuation of just how fast he could fold when it came to you.
Seungcheol doesn't give a damn about semantics. His point still stands. "You didn't answer a single one of my calls," the older boy complains. "I can't believe this!"
So help me, God. Jihoon knows he's already going to have to get the man one pastry or another to compensate for this misgiving. "Right, sorry, sorry," Jihoon huffs out. "Why were you calling, anyway?"
Seungcheol bitches and moans for a couple more minutes before eventually breaking the news about some brand endorsement that they need to sign on for. Jihoon promises to check his e-mail and have the contract in before the morning, which doesn't really appease Seungcheol.
Even as the leader passes the phone back to you, he's mumbling something like 'unbelievable' and 'ungrateful kid'. Jihoon rolls his eyes despite the fact that neither of you can see it.
His mounting annoyance ebbs at your voice, at your gentle question of, "When are you going to finish up?"
Jihoon lets out a low hum, eyeing the aborted song on his laptop. He had wanted to make changes on something— the bridge? the chorus?— but the idea was gone now, replaced only with the crick in his neck and the ache of longing.
"I think I could wrap up for the night," he decides. "We can order in some pizza and watch that drama you like. How does that sound?"
Jihoon can hear the way you try to tamp down your excitement in favor of tentatively asking, "Are you sure? I can always wait for you, darling."
And, oh, he loves you for it. He loves that your first and foremost concern is the disruption to his work, the easy way he throws it all aside in favor of a night in with you. Jihoon is usually much stronger than this, he swears.
But he's a weak, weak man whenever you come calling.
"I'm sure," he says. "See you in ten."
"See you. Take care." A beat. And then, you add in a whisper— almost like you're a little abashed to be saying it in front of Seungcheol— "I love you."
Even though there's nobody around to hear him say it, even though the words are yours and yours alone, Jihoon's voice softens to match your tone.
"I love you, too. Can't wait to come home to you, honey."
Jihoon ends the call at that because he knows you have a thing about not wanting to be the one to put down the phone. He stares down at his device and its Notification Center, where there's dozens of missed calls, texts, and e-mails. Evidence of what he's ignored in favor of the craft.
His 'Do Not Disturb' stays on, with only one exception to the rule: All notifications are allowed from you.
svtsofthours' post ->
Seungcheol: Jihoon isn’t answering his phone. You: I’ll call. Seungcheol: Soonyoung and I have both tried six times each, what makes you think— Jihoon: Hi, honey.
#jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#lee jihoon x reader#jihoon fluff#woozi fluff#jihoon imagines#woozi imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy#୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt#( god. the things i would do 4 this Man )
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Sorry if you've already covered this, but I was scrolling socials and saw that the San Antonio zoo got a large donation to expand their savanna habitat. The only thing that jarred me as I read through their expansion plans was apparently they're going to be outfitting some 'safari' vehicles so guests can be taken into the habitat to feed and interact with the animals (from within the vehicle). I was always under the impression that this kind of interaction wasn't necessarily good for either the humans or the animals-- is there a way it can be done ethically?? Anyway, I just thought it was interesting!
Ooo, okay, your question aligned with a thing I've been chewing on for a while, so let's talk ~ethics~ and ~philosophy~ aka this is gonna be a bit long. I do promise I'll answer your question, though!
The first thing I want to note is that you're really asking about two different things, which are almost always conflated these days when it comes to talking about animals: welfare (is the animal happy / healthy / safe) and ethics (is what's happening good / moral / acceptable). It's really important that we distinguish between the two, because welfare is an objective measure of physical and mental wellbeing, and ethics are a human construct that involves subjective interpretation.
A useful but highly oversimplified example of this is the bothering of cats for online videos. Pestering a cat to get a funny reaction once in a while may not impact their overall welfare. Welfare is the cumulative impact of an animal's experiences, which means that single acute moments may not weight heavily on the entire balance. If the cat is healthy, fed well, enriched, and has a good and positive bond with their humans, those momentary irritations for videos might not matter much. That doesn't mean that you or I, as viewers, might not still find bothering an animal for internet clout ethical. We can believe that humans shouldn't ever unnecessarily put their pet through negative experiences, and we can think that doing so just because it brings the human money or fame is distasteful. But! We have to recognize that as used in this example, those ethical stances aren't inherently tied to the animal's welfare state. Many people I know who dislike cat-bothering don't care if the animal has good welfare outside of that situation - they don't like that the situation occurs at all, ever.
So, back to your question. You're wanting to know if it's okay for a zoo to have a drive-through aspect of an exhibit where people get to feed the animals. You're asking if it's safe for the humans and for the animals (which is a welfare question) and if that type of interaction is ethical. I could just tell you that of course it's fine, San Antonio is an AZA zoo and their accreditation only allows them to do "good things" but that's now how it works here (nor is it the reality of accreditation).
The safety aspect is one I'm not worried about. It's actually a pretty common thing for reputable facilities to do some sort of vehicle tour in savanna habitats, whether in the guest's vehicle (safari parks) or on a hay-ride type vehicle (zoos). Many of those allow guests to feed out specific parts of their animals' diets. Offhand, I know Tampa and Fossil Rim both have feeding tours like this in a staff-driven vehicle. It's not specified from the zoo's press release, but I can guarantee you that guests will not be driving those vehicles - which means the interactions will be proctored by staff and what people are feeding out will be carefully regulated. The habitat is going to have rhino, giraffe, zebra, ostrich, and antelope/gazelle, and I'd guess that the drive-through is going to stick to those latter two and maybe additional species. Those are animals where a car is an appropriate safety barrier.
As to if it's ethical to do? It's spiny question, because it depends very directly on the ethical perspectives of the person you're asking. I think it's fine - you may not. Let's break down the different things that come into consideration on the ethical side, and my responses:
"The zoo is commercially exploiting animals by letting people pay to get closer." If the issue is that people paying to get closer to animals is using them for money, well, that's the business model of a zoo (non-profit or not, they still need revenue to operate). So IMHO it's not like it's "less ethical" than anything else the zoo is doing, using that framing.
"Zoo animals should be allowed to be wild and undisturbed by guests driving in their habitats." Zoo animals aren't wild, and their entire lives revolve around humans and the human work schedule. As long as a vehicle entering the habitat doesn't have a negative welfare impact (e.g. they're not scared of it), it's not very different from the rest of the routine of managed care.
"Feeding zoo animals will encourage people to try to feed wild animals." Thanks to obnoxiously viral content creators, people are going to try to feed wild animals no matter what. Doing it in a proctored situation where a staff member can try to do some education at the same time is probably the best possible scenario.
"People just do those tours to get close to cool animals." People are always going to want to touch the animals. If being able to pay for a tour keeps them from jumping the fence to try to pet a rhino, great.
There's one more that I want to talk about separately, because I think it's where a lot of confusion gets generated. It's this idea that "Humans shouldn't be interacting with animals at all, any interaction is unethical and bad for the animals." This is a welfare crossover, but not one actually informed by welfare science in a captive situation. And I think it's because the internet lacks nuance. Yes, it is absolutely correct to say that with wild animals, you should never ever try to feed a deer out of your car (or similar). It is incredibly harmful to those animals on both an acute and chronic timeline. But thanks to the rage-bait algorithms on social media and people endlessly justifying doing stupid, dangerous, bad things (and getting pushback for it), there's been a lot of bleed between the public's understanding of what wild animal welfare is and what captive animal welfare is. Combine that with the reality that captive animal welfare cannot be assessed or diagnosed from a single context-less clip, and that people with strong beliefs and no practical experience with the field/species/individual will pass judgement loudly to their audiences...
The result is almost a reflexive believe in many sectors of the internet that any human-animal interaction that isn't couched as a "rescue" is inherently unethical, for reasons people often can't articulate. Which is why, I think, so often people want to support certain aspects of captive animal management but feel guilty for doing so. I see this a lot in the questions the blogs gets, and I'm glad people feel comfortable asking, because it's important to think through not just the individual instances but the patterns leading us to question them.
So yes, I'd say that a staff-led experience in a vehicle chosen for safety is an ethical way to proctor an interaction between guests and certain savanna species. It will vary by facility - I'm always more wary about guests driving, although many drive-through safaris are fine - and by setup. I think what San Antonio is doing will be fine, though, and will be interested to see / hear about the setup when they start up.
If you've got a question about ethical captive management, I'm always happy to talk about it - but I'd invite you to poke around in your head a little and send me not just your question in the ask, but your thinking about why or why not something might be concerning. It's great practice for understanding why you relate to animal ethics the way you do, and where those beliefs come from.
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I'm worried about the rising rate of young adults getting cancer.
For what it's worth, we've actually made a shocking amount of progress against cancer - especially the most common cancers like breast cancer, and especially in the past 30 years.
Cancer rates have been falling, often dramatically (x, x, x, x, x, x). One of the best examples it that breast cancer deaths in the United States dropped 58% between 1975 and 2019 (x).
Right now, we're at the beginning of an absolute revolution in cancer care that promises to increase survival rates even further. This revolution has been going on to a lesser degree since the first human genome was successfully sequenced in the early 2000s (and in fact, the first gapless sequencing of a human genome was finally finished just two years ago, in 2022), and to a greater extent since CRISPR DNA-editing technology was first successfully tested in 2013, and since medical digitzation/digital communication and vaccination were massively spurred ahead in 2020, by the COVID pandemic (x, x).
Right now, the results of this revolution are only beginning to trickle out into actual treatments. But I guarantee you, in the next one to three decades, the way we fight cancer will be massively transformed.
We're talking personalized genome sequencing for each person with cancer - not just for early and better detection, but even to figure out what types of treatments will work best. (x, x, x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR-based DNA editing to literally cut cancer-causing mutations out of your DNA, to edit the genes of immune cells to better detect and kill cancer cells, and to kill cancer-causing viruses. (x, x, x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR-based screening to figure out how chemotherapy resistance works, so that we can overcome it - and even weaponize it. (x, x)
We're talking using CRISPR to edit immune cells so that they recognize and target the mutations of a single individual's specific tumor. (x)
We're talking new types of testing that can predict if cancer will return years before it shows up on scans. (x)
We're talking using (non-generative) AI to massively increase the accuracy and earliness of cancer detection - which by the way is already starting to happen, there are several AI-based systems that detect cancer earlier and more accurately than doctors do. (x, x, x, x, x, x)
Also, the more we transition to a green, sustainable, and ethical future, the fewer cancer-causing substances will be in the environment (fossil fuels, oil drilling, and mining are massive sources of carcinogens at every point in the process).
Cancer is awful. That is a massive understatement. But the fight against cancer is one where there are so many reasons for hope.
#dyingpleasehelp#ask#me#cw cancer#tw cancer#cancer#breast cancer#cancer treatment#oncology#fuck cancer#healthcare#medicine#medical news#chemotherapy#crispr#gene editing#public health#ai#pro ai#good news#hope
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference
Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.
The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.
For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.
Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.
Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.
Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?
When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.
He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.
Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.
It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.
Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.
Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.
Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.
You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?
Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.
He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?
"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"
White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!
He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.
Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.
Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.
Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.
You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.
After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.
Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.
The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.
There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.
Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?
These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.
Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees
"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:
It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.
Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.
You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.
"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough
With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.
He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.
He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.
In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.
He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...
Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.
Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.
That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.
"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"
Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.
He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.
Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.
He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...
In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.
His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.
You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.
Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable
He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?
For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.
Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?
Well....shit (pleasant connotation)
He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.
It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.
Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.
You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.
Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.
He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.
Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...
Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.
"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.
"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.
"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"
{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}
{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst scenarios#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#twst idia#IM DEAD#THIS TOOK FOUR HOURS#I LEGIT WAS NOT PLANNING TO WRITE ALL THIS#MY HANDS
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AITA for asking my partner not to talk about how happy he is that Ghandi was assassinated?
I hope this doesn't get too long! 🍀
I (26, F) am Irish Australian, my partner (33, M) is Sikh. He's shared many beautiful things about his culture with me, and has a thoughtful way of describing the relationship between Sikh history and current culture.
However I get a bit uncomfortable when he talks about how Gandhi was assassinated by a Sikh person. I know enough about Gandhi to be aware that while he might've had some good impact, he had plenty of underreported bad too. But I don't pretend to understand the extent of it all.
I also understand what a complex thing that sort of cultural history is, my family joke about being proud of the assassination of Mountbatten by the IRA. But we keep that talk behind closed doors, it requires more understanding of the Troubles than the average person has. Also, joking about death is a bit nasty unless you know everyone is comfortable
My issue with my partner is that when he talks about Gandhi's death he's not speaking with a historical context. He gets very serious and sits up all tall and says proudly that Sikhs are a warrior race and they fucking delivered. He has done this in company and in private and it's always very intense and a mood killer, he is not joking at all. I think that level of confident pride in the death of another is kinda messed up
So, I asked him to not talk about it in such a full on way. He refused to apologise because he is proud of it and he said that he's glad they did it (I appreciate his honestly there). I asked if he would be pleased to see a similar event play out today, a Sikh assassinating a major political influencer. He said he would be happy and asked the same of me regarding Mountbatten (this had come up in the conversation, obviously I'm paraphrasing, the whole thing was pretty upsetting tbh) and I said no cos it's not an active war. Also, that I don't actually stand behind that I'm just comfortable with the complexity of it to joke with my family and still know people understand where I stand. Like, the IRA killed his kids too. The whole time was fucked.
He said he's not joking. He, gently, said I was being a bit of a hypocrite. He didn't promise to not talk about Gandhi, but hasn't brought it up since. I feel like he's pretty unhappy about it
I dunno, I asked him without really thinking about it all and I think he makes a good point about the Mountbatten parallel. I'm not sure if the difference in my feelings is my own ethics or just me being a bit racist. And it's not his job to make me not be racist if I've got some stuff to work through. But still, I think if it was any culture I'd be uncomfortable with that much aggressive pride in murder. Like, I've grown up in a country without a death penalty, death is not something people can dole out imo, and his approval of it is so absolute and genuine, there's no pulling the punch. Unlike my way of talking about Mountbatten.
So, AITA for asking my partner to stop talking about his pride in a Sikh person assassinating Gandhi?
What are these acronyms?
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Short drabble with clingy Dazai ahead. Enjoy!
Dazai was a clingy motherfucker. It didn't really come as a surprise since he was acting very silly all the time, be it at the agency or be it on missions. What you did not take into consideration was how clingy he could become while in a relationship.
“Bellaaaa…. Come back in bed. Is not really a work day if we're not late, is it?” He succeeded to grip your wrist when you tried to get up from the bed.
“ Osamuuu, let me go, or we will have Kunikida banging on our door soon enough. At least one of us has to go to the office and arrive at an acceptable time, don't you think?”
“But is not faair, my Bellaa… You attention should always be on me, your lovely boyfriend and not work ethics.”
You chuckled while moving a few stands of hair away from his forehead and placed a kiss. Dazai took the opportunity to thug you and make you fall over him.
“ I knew you really loved me.”
“ Dazaaai, let me goooo“
“Never”
For the first time Dazai chose to be very selfish and indulge in the warmth you were giving him in the relationship. After a rocky start, he left himself to be persuaded into being loved. Not because he thought he deserved, but because you promised to hate him for all eternity in case he wanted to act all so mighty when it came to love. You give yourself to much credit if you think you're so not deserving of happiness, you arrogant ass. Who the fuck do you think you are to say that I deserve someone better. And you act like you know me. Something about the way you said these words made him waver and change his mind.
You looked at his hazelnut eyes and smiled softly, not knowing that the man's heart melted at the sight.
“You better never leave me, because I'm coming after you in hell if you pull a shit like that on me.”
He laughed wholeheartedly
“So this means yes to stay another while in the bed?”
“Five more minutes is all that you get”
Well, it's safe to say that it wasn't just five more minutes.
#bsd x reader#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x you#dazai x you#soft dazai#my clingy lovely man#dazai fluff#dazai x y/n#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs dazai#hellawrites#bsd men#drabble
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PROMPTS FOR WORKAHOLIC CHARACTERS WHO PUSH THEMSELVES TOO HARD * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary
there's still a lot of work to be done.
i'm not finished with it yet.
i can't give up just yet.
there's nothing noble about working yourself to death.
you think i can't handle this myself?
there's not enough hours in the day.
i realize you think you have to do this.
working like this helps me think.
i'll sleep when i'm dead.
your work ethic scares me sometimes.
i don't need your help.
do you ever sleep?
they need me.
no matter how hard you work, it won't bring them back.
do you realize how crazy that sounds?
i'm not stopping until this is done.
you need to slow down.
i feel like i'm wasting my life.
have you ever taken a vacation?
i can handle this on my own.
i'm nothing without my work.
you're going to get sick if you keep going like this.
you've proven your point.
you're going to work yourself to death.
there are worse ways to spend a life.
you can't keep going at this pace.
i don't have time to rest.
it needs to be done.
do you have any healthy coping mechanisms, by any chance?
there's no time to waste.
i think it's time for you to take a break.
everything was going great until you stopped me.
i can't sleep yet. not until this is done.
i'm the only one who can do this.
at least let me help you.
if i just focus on my work, i don't have to think about anything else.
i'm not asking you to take a break, i'm telling you.
did you really have to interrupt like that?
i'm not budging.
it's my life's work.
you're not going to convince me otherwise.
when was the last time you slept?
i'll help you finish the job if you promise to get some rest.
you're practically falling asleep standing up.
you can finish this in the morning.
let me get you to bed.
don't you get it? it's over!
working yourself to death isn't going to fix anything.
if i don't do it, no one else will.
i wish you would take some time to rest.
i'm not taking a break, if that's what you're asking.
you just broke my concentration, thank you very much.
i'm not going to bed.
i don't know how to quit.
they're counting on me.
too many people rely on me.
i can't disappoint them.
you need a vacation.
i wish you would just listen to me and slow down.
your eye bags have eye bags.
all right, that's it. i'm putting my foot down.
no more excuses.
what do you get out of this? this overworking thing?
without my work... i'm nothing.
no one else is going to step in.
i don't care about me. i care about them.
we have unfinished business.
if i stop now, it'll be like giving up.
i'm a perfectionist. it's in my nature.
better to pour myself into my work than something else.
i wish you would go easy on yourself.
this is very unhealthy.
#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay memes#rp prompt#rp starters#roleplay prompt#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#writing prompts#writing prompt#rp asks#ask game#askbox meme#rp inbox meme#roleplay inbox prompts#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starters#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#mcflymemes#mine#dramatic prompts#thank you rika for the suggestion :)#also managed to make this while i have covid!!!!#so hopefully it makes sense..... sdfklajsdhfa
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Day Eight! I want to preface this with this: I had Somnophilia on my list with Vox in mind. Coincidentally @redfoxwritesstuff has also written a very wonderful fic for Vox with this prompt. Hers is called Late Meetings, so please go read hers and show her beautiful writing love!
I am vastly aware of the similarities between both fics: Vox, Somnophillia, and late nights/meetings, and the mention of notes! Though I attempted to make mine as different as I could. Great minds think alike! (Kit if it's too similar let me know. I'll gladly repost after a rewrite.)
Tags/Warnings: Human!Vox, marriage, dub-con, dubious consent, somnophilia, fem!reader, fem!receiving, fingering, p in v sex, soft sex Word Count: 1,962
Human!Vox X Reader
You often consider yourself the luckiest woman in the world. How could you not when your husband was Vox? You adored your husband, admired his work ethic, and appreciated the money he brought home. But there were some nights, much like tonight, where you wondered if he loved you as much as you loved him.
“Eight o’clock.” He promised before leaving that morning. He would be home by eight. Now it was eight thirty and you hadn't gotten even a call from him. Your dinner had long gone cold, not that you had much of an appetite anymore. Begrudgingly, you got up and started putting everything away.
When everything was put away you poured yourself a generous glass of wine. The minutes ticked by as you drank it, the clock in the hallway striking nine. You downed the rest of the wine, put the glass in the sink, and headed to bed. Typically you wrote a note to Vox before you went to bed, wishing him well, hoping his broadcast was good. Tonight you did no such thing, your heart sitting heavily in your chest. He could have at least called and told you he'd be home late. Instead you had gotten nothing, so in turn, he would get nothing.
Vox finally managed to get back to his office, his last meeting had run a little bit late. But he didn't think he was running all that late. He grabbed his suit jacket, pulling it on as the clock behind him struck the hour. He counted each chime, frowning when it hit eight. So he would be home a little later than expected. The clock chimed once more before falling silent. Vox’s eyes found the clock face, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as it confirmed what he had just heard. Nine chimes, it was nine. He was in for a world of trouble when he got home, guilt already eating away at him. He was an hour late, and by the time he drove home, that'd be even more.
He got in about twenty minutes later, opening the door. The house he shared with you was dark. No lights on at all. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. After locking the door behind him, he headed towards the kitchen, expecting a note. When he found none waiting for him, his frown deepened. How upset were you with him that you hadn't even left him a note?
He looked forward to your notes, storing them all away in a shoebox kept under his side of the bed. Keepsakes, tokens of your love for him. If he hadn't been guilty before, he certainly was now. He headed towards the bedroom, shedding each layer of clothing as he went. He pushed open the door, pausing in the threshold of the bedroom he shared with you. You were fast asleep already. He didn't blame you, it was late and he had promised to be home over an hour ago. But he didn't like the idea that you had gone to bed angry with him. He entered the room fully, removing his shirt and pants. He sat down on the bed beside you, reaching out a hand to brush your hair out of your face. You moved at his light touch, a soft murmur escaping your lips.
“I'm home, babydoll.” He murmured, a frown on his face as he watched you roll over, turning your back to him.
The sight, though unintentional, hurt him. His hand brushed down your arm for a moment before he stood back up. He slipped off his socks and then his boxers. He wondered for a moment, if he should go sleep on the couch. Had he earned enough of your ire to warrant that? But more than anything, he wanted to have you in his arms. That desire won out over anything else. He headed towards the dresser, pulling out a new set of boxers and night pants. He slipped them both on, before he returned to the bed. That was when he noticed that you were laying on his side, and had been the entire time. He smiled at the realization, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face once again. It always seemed to fall into your face.
Vox slid into bed next to you, moving you enough to allow him to lay down comfortably. Upon sensing his presence, despite being asleep, you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled as you nuzzled against his chest. He rested his hand on your lower back, idly tracing his fingers up and down. You shifted again, the movement, paired with his idle strokes, had your nightgown riding up. Vox paused when his hand touched bare skin, a frown pulling at his lips. He shifted, his eyes roaming over your body in the dim light. You were wearing a nightgown, one of his favorites, and nothing else. The realization had his heart skipping a beat, his cock twitching to life. He shifted you off him, rolling onto his side to watch you as you slept. His eyes were drawn to your nightgown bunched around your waist, exposing your lower half to his hungry gaze. Vox reasoned that he might as well feel what he had missed out on before pulling your nightgown back down and going to bed. He moved his hand, his fingers slipping between your legs, teasing at your entrance. He bit his lip, finding that you were soaked.
“Fuck,” He whispered, not having expected you to be so wet. “I’m even more sorry for being late.”
A whine escaped your lips, your legs falling open as you ground yourself down against his hand. His fingers slipped inside you, his eyes widening as he sat up. He had every intent to pull his fingers out of you, not wanting to touch you without your express permission. But then his name was falling from your lips in a breathy moan, your hips grinding down. All resolve was flung out the window. Tentatively he began to move his fingers, pumping them in and out of you with practiced ease. Your head fell back, your legs spreading wider for him. Your breath was coming faster, your chest heaving as he slowly brought you closer to release.
“So beautiful for me.” He mummers, his other hand shoving down his night pants and boxers.
He kicked them from his frame, wrapping his hand around his length with a soft gasp. He began to pump himself in tune with every curl of his fingers pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The moans that fell from your lips were loud and lewd. Completely unashamed in your sleep and it was alluring. He felt your body tense beneath his touch, a loud moan gracing his ears in time with the way your walls squeezed around his fingers. Your release washed over you, your body quaking with the intensity of it. Your eyes fluttered open, post orgasmic bliss giving way to confusion.
“Vox?” You whispered, wiping away sleep from your eyes.
“Fuck.” He whispered, pulling his fingers from your dripping core. “Hey doll.”
You gasp at the feeling of his fingers slipping from you, your eyes catching on his hard cock. Which he hadn’t stopped pumping despite the fact that you had woken up. You swallow, your brows furrowing. You knew you should be upset that he had touched you without your permission. But instead, you felt weirdly loved and cherished.
“Did you have any intention on fucking me while I was asleep?” You ask softly, sitting up.
Guilt flashed through Vox, he finally removed his hand from his throbbing cock. “I’m sorry. None, I didn’t even mean to do this. I just…wanted to feel you, see what I missed.”
You hum, moving your hand to his cock. Vox gasped, his hips jerking at your touch.
“Doll?” He asked hesitantly, unsure of how you’d react, of what you were doing.
“Shut up for a moment.” You murmur. “I’m still deciding if I should be mad at you or not.”
He cracked a smile despite himself, cupping your cheek with his hand. You met his gaze, the room slightly illuminated by the moonlight spilling in from the windows.
“In my defense it was you rolling your hips down that started this. I had every intent to stop, to pull away.”
Another hum of acknowledgement, your eyes falling from his face to land on his cock again. The tip was leaking pre-cum and you couldn’t deny the fact that you were turned on. You shift forward, coming to straddle his lap. Your hand still on his cock, guiding him towards your entrance. You sank down onto his cock, moaning at the sensation of him filling you completely.
“Fuck.” Vox cursed, hips thrusting up into you as you slid down onto his length. “You’re not mad?”
You shake your head, hands resting against his shoulders as you began to slowly fuck yourself on his cock. “Not in particular.”
“You didn’t leave me a note.” He murmured, his breath coming a bit quicker at the sensation of your tight walls clenching around his cock. “You always leave me a note.”
“You could have called me.” You mutter in reply, “I’d have liked a call. You always call.”
He frowned, his hands resting against your hips, guiding you. His pace picked up, meeting you thrust for thrust.
“My meeting ran late, I had no way to know the time. I’m sorry.” His voice was full of genuine remorse and guilt. “I’ll make it up to you, my dear.”
The soft slaps of your bodies joining together over and over filled the room, his soft grunts mixing with your moans.
“You already are.” You whisper, your walls fluttering around his cock.
You were close to another orgasm, and by the twitching of his cock, Vox was close to his as well. He pulls you into a gentle kiss, his hips moving faster, chasing that release.
“I love you.” He murmurs, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth. “I love you so, so much. I don’t deserve you.”
Vox shifts, his cock slipping deeper inside you. Each thrust had him rolling against your g-spot, his cock-head kissing against your cervix. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your moans were getting louder, more breathless.
“Vox, please.” You whined, so close to your release.
He kept his steady pace, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He captured your mouth with his, swallowing your cries as you came. Your walls flexed around his cock, drawing him deeper.
“Oh fuck!” He growled, his hips stuttering as he came.
Hot ropes of cum splashed against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his seed. A whimper falls from your lips at the sensation, Vox slowing to a stop inside you. He shifts, laying down, taking you with him. The change in position makes you cry out, your body overly sensitive. You expected him to pull out of you, instead he remained buried balls deep inside you. His lips brushed over yours again.
“I love you.” He repeats softly, “So much. You’re my everything.”
You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss slightly. Now that the two of you were laying down, exhaustion was dragging at you, threatening to pull you into sleep.
“I love you too, Vox.” You whisper, eyes closing as you rested against his chest. “You’re my entire world.”
You fell asleep in his arms, his cock buried deep inside you, knowing that you were loved.
You were indeed the luckiest woman in the world.
#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#vox x you#vox x y/n#vox x reader smut#vox x y/n smut#vox x you smut#human vox#human vox x reader#human vox smut#human vox x reader smut#vox#vox hazbin#vox hazbin hotel#vox smut#tuneonins kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox
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NaNoWriMo fic, day one: obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.
This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.
Just a bank account, even.
"You're working for Cadmus," Tim says slowly. "Cadmus, as in the lab that stole Superman's body and cloned him without his consent. Cadmus, which you had to break out of so they couldn't put mind control code words in your head."
"Yeah," Superboy replies like that's not literally insane. Tim stares at him.
"Why?" he asks incredulously.
"Food and shelter?" Superboy shrugs. "And I mean, I dunno, where else am I gonna go?"
Tim is not okay with this situation.
"What did Superman say?" he says.
"Just to like, keep an eye on things," Superboy says with another shrug. "Make sure they're not up to anything shifty."
Tim stares at him.
"Superman," he says. "Told you to just . . . 'keep an eye on' the dubiously ethical cloning lab. The specific dubiously ethical cloning lab that tried to put mind control code words in your head. Specifically."
"Yeah," Superboy confirms.
Alright, Tim is actually even less okay with this situation than he thought, apparently. Like, impressively less.
"Okay," he says. It is absolutely no kind of okay in any way whatsoever, of course, but he doesn't want to put Superboy on the defensive. That'd make effectively interrogating him a lot harder, for one thing. Cooperative subjects are best in these situations. "What are they paying you?"
"I mean, like, they gave me my own room and they're feeding me and whatever, so I don't really need much money," Superboy says. "There's a discretionary fund I can use if I need to go on an undercover mission or anything like that? But I'm not really the undercover type anyway."
"Sure," Tim says. So . . . no way for Superboy to save up to move out and get an out-of-lab life, then. Great. That's not fucked-up or crazy or horrible at all. "Do you like it there?"
"It's okay," Superboy says, shrugging again. "Better than literally everybody in Hawaii yelling at me every time they see my face, yeah?"
Tim wants to set the world on fire, but he's trying really hard not to go supervillain before he's thirty and he'd hate to throw out all that hard work.
"They just let me do whatever, mostly," Superboy adds. "They don't really care as long as I'm around when they need me."
He'll go supervillain as soon as Bruce dies, Tim promises himself. Just–he'll give his share of the eulogy at the funeral and then he'll blow up three-fourths of Arkham and the entire GCPD while Commissioner Gordon is on his lunch break. He can time that out, that'll be easy. And then he'll go and personally murder the Joker with the very specific combination of a rusty crowbar and a shrapnel bomb, and then he'll just . . . well, he'll just go with the flow from there, he figures. Do whatever feels natural.
Seriously, the world as it is does not deserve to exist. It really just does not.
Tim figures he can probably convince the rest of Young Justice to tag along for the whole supervillain thing and hopefully Dick and Steph and Barbara too, and ideally also Alfred, in the unfortunately likely event that he outlives Bruce. He's got time to lay the groundwork with them all and all, and also everything really is awful and horrible and really does deserve to burn.
"Are they sending you to school or anything? Or tutoring you?" Tim asks with what little scraps of hope he has left. Higher education would be . . . well, something, at least. And actually it probably wouldn't hurt for Superboy to learn a bit more about genetic engineering from the same place he got genetically engineered, just in case anything goes wrong with his DNA again. Cadmus should at least be good for that much, right?
"Ew, no, thank fuck," Superboy says, making a face. "Like I said, they mostly let me do whatever until something needs punched."
So . . . no furthered education or learning any usable job skills or making real money or literally anything that could, again, lead to Superboy ever getting any kind of an actual out-of-lab life established.
Great.
Just great.
"I see," Tim says.
"It's a pretty sweet gig, considering," Superboy says, and grins brightly at him. It's a very nice grin. Normally being faced with that particular grin would make Tim need to beat down the highly unprofessional urge to kiss it.
Right now, though, he's a little bit more concerned with the fact that his teammate is just . . . living in and working for a fucking lab. As a matter of course. Just as a thing.
And Superman of all people thinks that's . . . fine, for some reason? Like, normal and ethical and okay? Somehow? In some way?
What the actual fuck, Tim thinks to himself.
"You said Superman told you to keep an eye on things?" he asks.
"Yeah," Superboy says, his grin widening. "He took me to his fortress and asked me to do it there. Showed me around a bit, too."
"That sounds really interesting," Tim says, wondering in vague disbelief if that means Superman had never taken Superboy to the Fortress of Solitude before. He must've, right? And just . . . inexplicably not shown Superboy around then.
Yeah. Sure.
"It was awesome!" Superboy says with more enthusiasm than Tim's seen from him since they met Nina Dowd's . . . endowments, seemingly forgetting the need to be "cool" for long enough to lean forward in his seat and outright beam at him. Tim is gonna need a minute to recover from the sight of that expression, probably. "It's seriously freaking freezing up there, but there's so much cool shit in the place. Like, from all over the universe, but from Krypton, even! The only thing I'd ever seen from Krypton before was kryptonite!"
Tim considers moving up his supervillain timeline after all. Like. Just possibly. Just a little.
Maybe he can convince Bruce to take an early retirement off-planet and just go from there.
What the hell is wrong with Superman?
"Oh, wow, really?" Tim says, simultaneously pretending he didn't already know what Superman has in his fortress and trying not to be screamingly obvious about the internal calculations he's running on figuring out how to weaponize red sunlight. Or like, maybe he could look into learning some magic. That's technically an option. Probably more time-consuming and harder to hide the process of, though. Still, it's on the table.
"Yeah. He showed me some of it. Told me some stories and stuff, even," Superboy says, and that excited grin turns just a little bit shy and soft and somehow even more distracting than usual. He ducks his head just a little, and then that soft grin is more like a soft smile, and Tim suffers. "And I, uh–and he gave me something, too."
"What did he give you?" Tim asks, praying to God that the answer is "an emergency contact number" or "an allowance that can cover a semi-decent Metropolis apartment" or "an offer to live literally anywhere but Cadmus, including in the thirtieth century or on a hostile alien planet or inside an active volcano". He's technically an atheist, so the praying thing is probably moot, but times of desperation are times of desperation.
"A name," Superboy says, and his smile widens helplessly. "Like, you know, a real one."
Tim might hate Superman, he thinks. That might actually be a thing now.
Yeah, he's definitely going supervillain after Bruce dies and doesn't need an emotional support sidekick anymore. Better start stocking up on the kryptonite.
"That's great," he says with a very carefully not-forced smile of his own instead of anything more along the lines of "wait, you've been alive and active as a superhero for all this time and no one ever actually named you?!" Superboy would probably take it the wrong way, not in the least because that genuinely never actually occurred to him as being a thing before. Like–he really did just assume Superboy was keeping a lid on whatever his real name was for personal reasons or Superman reasons or something. "Are you allowed to tell me it, or is that a no-go?"
"Oh, yeah," Superboy says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing at his arm. "It's like, a Kryptonian name? Not like a secret identity one. It's, uh, Kon-El."
Of course it's not even a damn secret identity, Tim thinks in absolute frustration and abject loathing. Of course not! Why would it be?! Fuck forbid!
"I like it," he says, because he lies to Batman and therefore there is no fucking way that he's going to let Superboy–Kon–see any sign whatsoever of the metaphorical 9.9 on the Richter scale that is currently happening in his psyche. "It suits you."
"You think?" Kon grins all the wider. Tim can't even calm down enough to want to kiss him, except in the sense that he always wants to kiss him.
"I do," he says, and smiles at him again.
Kon smiles back.
Tim hates everything. All the things. There is nothing that Tim doesn't hate right now, except maybe Alfred's snickerdoodles because he might be having a nervous breakdown but he's not, like, criminally insane or whatever.
Yet.
"Yeah, it's kinda cool," Kon says, straightening up in his seat and then leaning back, clearing his throat and slipping his sunglasses back on like they're not in a literal cave right now. Tim doesn't call him on it, because he has a supervillain timeline to work out and that's much more important.
Also because the teammate he has an inadvisable crush on is in a much, much shittier situation than he ever realized and he has to reconcile that with his worldview and also his opinion of Superman. Tim doesn't especially idolize the man except in the sense of knowing he's one of the greatest heroes on Earth and a very, very good man that Bruce thinks incredibly highly of, one of the best men on the League and maybe even on the planet, but . . .
But if he's such a good man, then why the hell is Kon living in a lab that tried to mind-control him and why has he only just seen the Fortress of Solitude for the first time?
Why didn't he have a real name?
"So do we call you Kon or Kon-El now?" Tim asks, which is a bit of a senseless question but also at least a bit of a distraction. He wants to say this whole situation is a horrible idea, who the FUCK convinced you this situation was a good idea?!, but there is no possible way that Kon would respond well to that. Ever.
Also, Kon had a point. Where else is he gonna go?
Clearly not the Fortress of Solitude.
Seriously, would it be that hard for Superman to give him a room there? At least a place to stay sometimes, so he wasn't exclusively relying on the mind-control cloning lab for food and shelter and basic comforts?
"I think just Kon?" Kon says, frowning consideringly. "'El' is like Superman's last name, I guess? So I think just Kon."
"Makes sense," Tim says, internally seething. Superman gave him the "El" name but not a secret identity? A name from a dead civilization with a bit of sentimental value, maybe, but nothing usable on this planet? Fuck, you'd think Kon didn't already know his secre–
. . . Kon doesn't know Superman's secret identity, does he.
Tim had thought he was lying, when he'd said that stuff about Superman not having one, before. Thought it was supposed to be a cover or a misdirection or something. But Kon actually thinks that, doesn't he. And Superman has just . . . kept letting him think that.
Becoming a supervillain actually might be an underreaction, in retrospect.
"Just Kon sounds less formal anyway," Tim says instead of so just in theory, do you think tactile telekinesis could trigger a heart attack or stroke in a full-blooded Kryptonian, if you could REALLY concentrate on doing it? like not FATALLY, just dehabilitatingly?, because he still has some groundwork to do before they get that far into potential supervillainy. There's steps to the plan. The steps need to be followed. They're very important steps. "You don't want Bart full-naming you every time he's looking for the remote."
"Like he'd even bother, it's faster for him to turn the living room upside-down than actually ask anyway," Kon says with a laugh, dropping his head back on his neck. Tim has some thoughts about climbing into his lap and figuring out if the TTK makes him hickey-proof, and then buries them. Not appropriate. Not professional. Just not.
. . . technically, if Kon wanted a hickey, he could just let his TTK down and ask for–
Tim buries his thoughts deeper.
Much, much deeper.
"Point," he says. "So what time does Cadmus expect you back?"
"Dude, it's a job, not a boarding school," Kon says, giving him an amused look. "I don't have a curfew."
Tim, technically, hasn't followed his own curfew any way but accidentally once in his entire life, but for god's sake, is Cadmus even pretending to be raising a teenager or are they really just being that flagrant about ignoring all the child labor laws they so clearly do not give a fuck about? Like, there must be something illegal about this. There has to be.
If there's not, Tim will be adding "burn down Project Cadmus" to his list of supervillain plans to set up in advance. In red pen. Underlined.
Twice.
God, why is the world like this. Why are people like this?
"I guess that'd be convenient," Tim says, internally ranking various methods of combustion. "Though I guess it depends on the cafeteria hours, too."
"It's whatever, I can always eat later," Kon replies with a shrug. "I think I've still got a couple protein bars in my room anyway."
"Just protein bars?" Tim asks, mentally upping the amount of explosives he was considering going with. Cadmus is going to be a crater by the time he's done with it. "Don't you need more calories than that?"
". . . well, sort of," Kon says, folding his arms and looking very briefly embarrassed. "Superman doesn't have to eat, apparently, but, uh, guess I'm not Kryptonian enough for that. Actually I kinda need to eat more than normal humans, it's weird. Like. A lot more."
"I'm ordering pizza," Tim says, upping his mental explosives count again. "What do you want on it?"
"We're the only ones here," Kon says, looking puzzled.
"More pizza for us, then," Tim says.
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#conner kent#dc robin#superboy#young just us#young justice#long post#wip: obligatory sugar baby Kon
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@welcometochilis585 asked: I’m not sure if you write fluff but maybe something where Logan and the reader had been together, but because the team died in his universe he assumed reader died as well. They get reunited and reader runs up to him and gives him a hug. Wade is just standing there like what? Then he says something snarky/sarcastic, Logan threatens him, but it’s just fluff. Maybe before all of that we could have a look into their past, reader is a mutant too, maybe a human ouija board🤷🏻
A/N: i'm sorry bro but no, you didn't submit this right, lmao. it's ok i got you.
Also, I changed the mutant power to be a little bit more connected to the storyline - makes more sense that reader survived.
You thought you had died, when you woke up in the void. That's what Professor Xavier always said would happen, if you tried to use too much of your power. You always had some sort of connected with... another plane. You didn't know what it was, but you could pull things from it, send things in.
When you were younger, you thought it was the afterlife. So you sent in little trinkets, offerings. Food, drink - costume jewelry. Coins, when you wanted to make a wish. And sometimes, when you needed it most, you could reach in and find something you needed, too. A pencil, when you forgot one for your standardized test. Brass knuckles, when some punk tried to get handsy in the back alley of a club when you snuck out. Stuff like that.
But Charles - when you finally found him, when he gave you a job and promised to help you hone your power - he warned you of your gift. He told you that what you were connected to wasn't an afterlife, but some alternate dimension, outside of space and time. And that while you could exchange goods with it, trinkets and things - that you should never send a human there. That it would probably kill them.
Well, you were alive. At what cost, though?
At least you weren't dead, back at the school. Oh god, the school. You tried not to think about it. About what happened.
You had fond memories of that place. You'd think about those, instead.
The kids that opened up to you about unsafe homes. the ones that asked what it was like, to have a dangerous mutation. If it scared you, that you could hurt people with it. You loved them, those kids - the kids you helped to gently guide in the right direction.
You were careful, and kind. Somewhat shy. You stuck to your work.
Until you met Logan.
He was everything you weren't. Your peers - the others adults that worked with you - they had been raised by Xavier. They all had kind of a sameness about them. A similar work ethic, maybe, or set of morals. You always felt like an outsider around them, since he'd only recruited you as an adult.
Maybe that's why you clicked with Logan. Yes, he was reckless and wild and maybe a little selfish, but there was a freedom of thought he possessed that the others didn't. He didn't think the mansion was the pinnacle of mutantkind. He questioned things openly, he wasn't careful.
And most of all, he was good with the kids. The ones that came in late, the ones that came in angry. The ones that you tried to get through to, that you struggled with. He took them out to train or play catch or even just to talk, and then came back calm.
You tried not to fall for him. Knew it was stupid, knew he probably wouldn't be the kind of stable partner you wanted. But you couldn't really help it.
And, luckily for you - he liked you too.
You remembered your first kiss. It was stupid, silly - he'd come to talk to you about a kid - a kid that you tutored, mostly - who had been bothering a kid that had taken to him as a mentor. You knew exactly what was going on with the two of them - your child had bright red skin due to her mutation. She thought the boy that was trying to date her had to be playing a horrible prank on her. That he was mean and rude. So, she'd started lashing out at him.
Logan had confronted you, snapped at you about the situation. And, as you talked about it - the conversation shifted from a hypothetical about two mutant kids, to the very real fact that the two of you were inches apart, your fingers fluttering near his collar.
So, he'd kissed you. Deep, sweet, passionate -
He hadn't been there. When it happened. You couldn't save anyone else. Just yourself.
And now you were here trying to survive with a weird little band of mutants and heroes. And your heart ached whenever you saw Laura fight. It hurt.
It hurt. And it still hurts. It still hurts, when you see him. Because when he sees you, his eyes blow wide in disbelief. He's halfway down a bottle and you know he's yours. You know that's the man who used to laugh and twirl you around the kitchen when all the kids had gone to sleep. You knew he'd broken himself after it all.
And you didn't care.
"Logan!-" you cried it out - tried to quell the tears in your eyes as you sprinted to him, threw yourself into those arms. You knew he would catch you - the crash of the liquor and Gambit's exasperated shout were barely audible as you threw your arms around his shoulders. And when he wrapped his around you - softly, tentatively - you knew. You knew it was him. Not just any Wolverine - your Logan.
"Hello? Did I miss some important exposition somewhere? If I did, it's definitely your fault-" the Deadpool Logan was with gestured towards Gambit, who looked like he might fling at card at the man just for being in the periphery of his liquor explosion.
You didn't care. You pulled back, smiling up at him. He looked shocked - brow knitted in the cutest little bit of wonder. "How-?"
"OK, no exposition! Fine, whatever! I'll just improv, I fucking guess!" The Deadpool threw his hands up. "How's this - if claws over here didn't have whiskey dick of the penis-"
Logan fucking growls at him, with a single, firm "don't."
The Deadpool ignores him, of course, and continues on with a "-you could take your plot-relevant princess here back to your royal carriage - that's the Honda Odyssey - and make little void babies!"
You can feel Logan's bicep tense - like he's going to pull the claws on this guy - and you press your hand to his cheek, shaking your head.
"He's a Deadpool, babe. He's not worth it."
"Fuck, I've missed you."
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#asks#welcometochilis585#mine
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SUN-KISSED LIPS ★ B.Z X READER
in which Blaise takes you out on a date in Italy after your O.W.L exams
pairing: boyfriend blaise zabini x girlfriend reader tags: fluff fluff fluff!!! blaise being the best boyfriend word count: 2.3k warnings: none
author's note: thank u guys so much for the support AAAAAA i've been so motivated to write fanfics and stuff, so i'm making one for every major character i want to cover before i do repeats. unlesss someone wants to do a request :D in which case i will totally try to make something up.
SUN KISSED LIPS | B.Z X READER
Exams had been stressful, to say the least.
Potions was absolutely dreadful. Snape’s watchful eye feeling like it was zoned directly onto you, any mistake you made seemed to displease the man even further than what you thought possible. Then Charms, where you had to remember at least 50 spells within the span of maybe two minutes. The written section for Transfiguration was absolutely dreadful, as was the showcase of Mandrake handling for your Herbology exams. Not to mention the abomination of your History of Magic exam, though you felt like everyone could only recall one or two things by that point of the week. Defense Against the Dark Arts was last, the only class you felt you had done something good in.
All in all, very stressful.
And that stress was not lost on Blaise either.
Blaise, your sweet and caring boyfriend, has had to handle most of your exam stress for the past month. Most of the time though, you were shutting him out in favor of studying.
He couldn’t blame you much, the O.W.L exams were important. Not everyone could buy their way into Ministry jobs, they would have to work for it. Your work ethic was always something that Blaise truly appreciated about you.
But right now, that work ethic was getting in the way of his love life. Which obviously meant that he had to devise a plan.
“Amore mio,” he whispered, hands moving to scratch at your scalp as you leaned over your desk. “The exams are over, what’s there to be stressed about?”
“I haven’t gotten my results back yet!” you said, the bone of your palm hitting your forehead before pulling roughly at your hair. “What if I failed all of them? I mean, these exams are really important. If I fail all of them, I won’t be able to do anything with my life.”
Blaise chuckled softly at that, gently pulling your hands away from your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Bambina, we have Umbridge this year.”
“God, don’t remind me.” you groaned. “I’ll die, Blaise. Actually die. She’s going to fail all of my exams, isn’t she?”
“Love,” he chuckled, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “Look at me.”
Blaise watched as you sighed before looking over at him, cooing softly as he finally saw your face for what felt like years. Your eyes were dark and swollen, both from a lack of sleep and crying. Not to mention how stressed you looked all together, with a sunken face and large pout that melted away at his heart.
“Tesoro,” Blaise whispered, his hands moving to hold yours. “You passed, my love. I know you did. You’ve been studying so hard for so long there’s no way you didn’t. I promise all of the professors will easily be giving you O’s on every exam.”
“But what if I fail?” you groaned, sniffling softly.
“You won’t fail.” Blaise said sternly, squeezing your hands. He didn’t want you beating yourself down anymore. “Plus, Umbridge likes me, and by association likes you. Maybe not the best person to like you, sure. But I promise it could help with your exams, the exams you don’t need help with in the first place.”
“You’re going to use bribery to get me perfect grades?” you chuckled quietly, scooting your chair a bit closer to him.
“I don’t think my bribery would be as effective as some people’s bribery.” he muttered, fingers caressing the back of your hands. “Maybe Draco.”
“How on Earth would you bribe Draco?” you giggled softly, looking up at him.
“Hookers.” Blaise shrugged, before smirking. “Which gives me a bit of an idea.”
“We are not hiring a prostitute.” you said.
“No, but we are going to go on a date.” Blaise smirked, standing up and walking over to your wardrobe. “Do you still have that black dress I got you last month? Or maybe the red one.”
“Blaise!” you chuckled, standing up and moving to stand beside him. “Where on Earth would we even go? We haven’t made reservations or anything.”
“We don’t need those.” Blaise said, nudging you with his elbow. “Put on a nice outfit, we’re going on a date.”
“This is ridiculous.” you giggled, arms wrapped around his as the both of you walked down the sidewalks of Italy.
In the time that you took a shower, put on a nice sundress, and did your hair and makeup, Blaise had found a portkey to an Italian plaza. In Italy. The sun was still in the sky by the time they got there, the sun setting in just a couple of hours.
“What about it is ridiculous?” he asked, smiling softly down at you. “We’re going shopping.”
“Shopping in Italy!” you said, giggling softly. “Like, what about that isn’t ridiculous? Just 10 minutes ago I was at Hogwarts, now I’m in Italy.”
“It’s nothing.” he said, the both of you stopping in front of a clothing store. “I want to get you a new dress, is that okay?”
“You got me two already this month, and we’re not even halfway!” you giggled, looking up at him. “Do I really need another one?”
“This one’s from Italy though, bambina.” Blaise smiled, kissing the top of your forehead. His hand was resting on your waist, the other hand moving to open the door for you both. “Plus, you’ll need a swimsuit as well.”
“I do?” you asked confusedly.
“Yes you do, c’mon.” he smiled.
The both of you walked into the store, Blaise guiding you to the swimsuit section. The first piece there was a red and white plaid one-piece, much similar to a picnic blanket. “I think that we should have a picnic at the beach.”
“If I have to wear a picnic blanket, so do you.” you said to him, hands on your hips.
“Maybe just plain red?” he asked you.
“I suppose that works.” you muttered, grabbing one of the swimsuits and holding it by the hanger. “What kind of dress did you want to buy me anyways?”
“I was thinking black.” he muttered, his hand resting on the dip in your back as you both walked to the dress section of the shop. There were shorter dresses and small sun dresses, though your gaze immediately turned to the more elegant ones at the top. “Maybe with velvet. Or a ball gown.”
“I am not letting you buy me a ball gown.” you said, wagging your finger in his face. “That is too much!”
“But then everyone would know that you’re a princess, wouldn’t they?” he smirked, eyes darting to look at the different dresses. “That one?”
It was a black silk dress, with a shoulderless sweetheart neckline and corset at the top. It was form fitting, and probably would cover your ankles. The top part before the corset was embroidered with small black gemstones, a small pattern of them also at the bottom.
“It’s really pretty,” you whispered, your eyes darting to the price tag. “But that’s too expensive. I couldn’t possibly accept it.”
“Sure you can,” he said, grabbing the first one off the rack and holding it against you. “It’d be yours, why couldn’t you?”
“Because it’s too much!” you said to him, looking down at the dress pressed against you. “Blaise, that is way too expensive. You’ve already bought me two dresses this month, don’t you have a budget of sorts? Surely you think this is too much too.”
“I’d rather dress you up than have my dad waste the worth of this on a pack of well-patted cigars.” Blaise said, kissing your forehead as he grabbed the swimsuit from your hands.
“Oh hush,” you grumbled out loud, trying and failing to grab at the dress and swimsuit from his hands as you both made your way to the counter. “I’ll get my revenge on you one day, Mister.”
“I’m sure you will, amore mio.”
The sun was just beginning to set as you waded your way into the water, small giggles escaping your mouth at the feeling of the cold water against your legs.
“It feels funny!” you said, smiling as Blaise pulled you into a hug. “You can feel it, right?”
“I can.” he smiled, peppering your face in kisses as you continued to laugh about the feeling. “It does feel rather unique, I must say.”
“It’s tickling me.” you said, holding onto his arms like a vice as the both of you waded further in.
“Are you cold?” he asked you, the water eventually making it up to your chests now. “I can put a warming charm on you, if you want.”
“It’s meant to be cold.” you said, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you up to carry you. “Plus, you’re rather warm yourself anyways.”
“Am I now?” he chuckled softly.
“Yes you are.” you said, booping him on the nose.
Blaise hummed softly, his finger tapping your back a couple of times before a small radio began to play. You looked around in awe, not having noticed the scenery before you two got into the water.
The water was absolutely breathtaking, the setting sun shining against it also giving Blaise the perfect sun-kissed look. His skin was absolutely glowing, and his smile mixing with the music made you feel like you just entered a romcom.
“You’re absolutely beautiful, amore mio.” Blaise whispered, humming softly to the tune of a song you didn’t know.”
“How’d you even get us to Italy?” you asked, chuckling softly at him.
“My family is Italian.” he hummed under his breath, raising his eyebrow at you. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I do!” you pouted. “I just didn’t think you’d have a bloody Portkey to Italy.”
“Well, I do.” he chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose to yours. “And now you know.”
“Good.” you hummed, nodding softly.
The two of you stayed in the water for a long while. You waded down to where the water would hit your shoulders, Blaise following close behind you as you both started to try and dance in the water. The sun set and made way for the moon, shining down on you as echoes of your giggles filled the night.
“Why don’t we go get some dinner?” Blaise whispered softly, his lips brushing against yours. “You’ll have to try the dress back on eventually.
“I’ll race you!” you said, the both of you wading your way to the shoreline. Blaise had originally beat you, but stayed behind and let you go first.
“I win!” you giggled, smiling as Blaise patted your skin dry. “Where are we going to eat?”
“This one restaurant I know, they serve the best pasta.” he whispered, kissing your lips as the both of you walked off of the shoreline and towards the plazas again.
You and Blaise were walking to the restaurant together, hands held together as he directed you. His hands had been all over you all day, especially when he helped you put on the dress and do your hair and makeup for the date.
Which led you to where you were right now, in a black dress to match his black slacks, the both of you standing in front of a rather fancy restaurant.
“What are you going to get?” you asked him curiously, smiling softly as he walked you to a table. He pulled the chair out for you, his lips meeting yours once you sat down.
“Carbonara,” he whispered, sitting across from you after adjusting his tie. “You?”
“I don’t know much about Italian dishes,” you whispered. “I mean, I know some things. I don’t know if I know everything on this menu though.”
“Maybe you should start with something you know.” Blaise whispered, his hand moving across the table to meet yours. “Lasagna?”
“I love lasagna.” you whispered, turning the menu to the drink section. “What about drinks though? There’s just so many.”
“Anything you want, honey.” he chuckled softly. “You can get wine if you want. I’ll take you back home, okay?”
“Okay.” you smiled softly, giggling as you looked at the menu.
The waiter walked up and took your orders, the food eventually arriving with steam coming out. “This is really pretty.” you whispered.
“It is, isn’t it?” Blaise asked, chuckling softly as his fork swirled through his carbonara.
You swirled your fork around the lasagna before taking a small bite, blowing on it before placing it on your mouth. “This is so good.”
“Is it?” Blaise whispered, smiling softly. “Do you want to try some of my stuff?”
“It looks really good,” you whispered softly, scooting a bit forward in your chair as he handed you a small bite. “Thank you.”
“Does it taste good?” he asked, smiling softly.
“It does.” you whispered, smiling brightly at the taste of it. “I love both of them. And this wine, it’s also really good too.”
“Is it?” Blaise asked, chuckling at that. “Do you want a bottle to take back to Hogwarts?”
“We can do that?” you asked.
“Yes we can.” Blaise nodded, smiling softly.
“We so should!” you said, taking another sip of your glass of wine.
“Merlin,” he whispered softly, his hand caressing yours. “I love you.”
You both had made your way back to Hogwarts, your feet stumbling as Blaise helped you down into the dungeons. Down the stairs, through the Common Rooms, and down to his dormitory. His scent wrapped around you as he wrapped you in his blankets, a small smile coming on your face as you realized it.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes looking up at Blaise with a sleepy expression. “For this.”
You felt a lot better despite your impending test results, a lot calmer than you were not seven hours ago. This date was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to you.
“It’s okay,” Blaise whispered, his hand caressing your cheek as he kissed your forehead. “You need some rest, can you get some for me?”
“Okay.” you whispered, nodding softly.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAa this one was so fun to write oh my gawsh. beta-reading still sucks, but hey i got it done!
as alwayss, please like, comment, reblog, or whatever jazz you feel like doing. it really really helps out a lot more then you guys think it does, and i really really really appreciate it. if you have any requests, i have a masterlist full of characters i plan on writing for! so go check all that out, and have a great day!
#blaise zabini#blaise x reader#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini x you#blaise zabini x y/n#fluff#extra fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction
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Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car
***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***
Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.
Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface
Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words
**Chapter One Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**
(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)
A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.
Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.
But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.
“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”
You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.
“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.
Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.
You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.
Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.
Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?
“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.
“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.
Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.
“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.
He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.
“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.
You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.
“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.
“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.
Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.
Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.
“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.
“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.
“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.
Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.
Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE
“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.
He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.
“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.
“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.
“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”
“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.
“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.
He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.
“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.
Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.
You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.
His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.
While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.
When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.
“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.
He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.
“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.
“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.
“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.
“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.
Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.
He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.
“Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.
His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”
You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.
“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.
You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.
You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.
“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.
“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.
You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.
“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.
He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.
You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.
Just your fucking luck
You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?
You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.
“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.
Shit
“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.
“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.
“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously
You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.
“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.
Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.
“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.
You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.
“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.
“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.
“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.
He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.
You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.
“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.
He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.
Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.
“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.
Pretty lady
“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.
He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.
“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?
He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.
“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.
“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.
“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.
“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.
He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”
Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.
“Honestly me too,” you confess.
Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.
“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”
You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.
Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.
“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.
“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.
He wants you to be safe
“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.
“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.
“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.
“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.
“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.
He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.
You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.
The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.
He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.
Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.
Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.
It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.
For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.
Oh gods was this really happening?
You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.
But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.
“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.
You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.
“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.
“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.
His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.
“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.
Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.
You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.
Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.
“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.
Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.
“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.
“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.
“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.
“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.
“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.
“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.
You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.
At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.
Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.
It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.
“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.
You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.
“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.
“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.
You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.
“What?” you question.
“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.
That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.
“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.
“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.
You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.
“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.
He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.
You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.
“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.
Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”
You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.
Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.
But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.
“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.
“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.
“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.
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Art credit: @/charscounterattack reposted with permission.
INVINCIBLE VS. MY HERO ACADEMIA: WHEN HEROES KILL
Whether or not heroes should kill people is a hotly debated topic in comics.
There are people who think heroes should never kill, and others who think heroes should kill more. One of the most famous comic book storylines "Under the Red Hood" has Red Hood / Jason Todd debate whether or not it was ethical for Bruce to keep letting the joker live even after the Joker killed Jaso, especially after the Joker killed Jason. If killing the Joker earlier to prevent all future deaths would have been justified. There are like a hundred DC Aus that are like "What if Batman and Superman just started killing people?"
In order to explore this question I'm going to explore two situations in different comics, Invincible and My Hero Academia when the hero, a very idealistic young hero kills someone for the first time.
LET HORI COOK
Storytelling, especially for serialized storytelling which comes out week by week instead of all at once works on the premise of drawing people in by promising that certain future developments and plot points are going to happen. Stories are all about creating expectations, building them, and then paying them off.
Here's an example: The Dabi is a Todoroki theory has existed pretty much since the training camp arc. Horikoshi wasn't in your face about the hints about Toya, but there was just enough hints to make the theory seem more and more plausible. Toya having the same fire quirk as Shoto / Endeavor. Toya mentioning both of them by name. Shoto's two other siblings getting revealed but not Toya. Toya saying that Hawks should have paid attention to him most of all. All of these little pieces came together until Toya finally revealed his identity on live TV in front of both Shoto and Endeavor.
This worked because not only did it give the audience just enough clues that they felt smart for figuring it out, and get invested in the idea of Toya as a Todoroki, it also was well-paced so it didn't seem like Horikoshi forgot about it unlike the traitor plot which went hundreds of chapters without being mentioned. If Toya was revealed to be a Todoroki at the training camp arc with no buildup, it wouldn't be as effective bcause we didn't have years of waiting and theorizing. If Todoroki was revealed to be some guy named Steve after all the hints, it also wouldn't be an effective reveal because there were hints dropped for Toya Todoroki, but there were no Steve hints so it'd feel like the author lied to us.
Themes are like this too. I tend to explain story themes by oversimplifying it as "Question, and answer." The story asks a question, it provides us an answer, and we can come up with our own answer as well. However, there's a middle part I'm skipping out on which is deliberation. Before you can come up with an answer, you obviously need to deliberate it, either by presenting arguments for or against, hearing outside opinions or just thinking things through.
In other words, you need to "Let things cook."
If Toya calling Shoto by his full name at the Training Camp Arc is when we're first asked "Is Toya a Todoroki?" or when the theories first started, then the long middle period between Training Camp Arc and the First War Arc is the deliberation. This is when the story not only added more hints to the idea that Toya was a Todoroki, but also set up why that reveal mattered. Endeavor wanted to atone for his past sins, but one of his victims was no longer alive. Endeavor begins to move on anyway and think he's finally made himself a good hero, but now Toya appears to flip up the reverse Uno Card.
So let's follow this basic formula, for how ideas get developed in My Hero Academia and just any good story.
Question / Introduction
Deliberation
Answer / Conclusion
My Hero Academia and Invincible explore similar themes in regards to heroism, generational trauma and how to be better than the previous generation in both Mark and Deku. I'm going to streamline their arcs down to one basic question for the sake of time. For both the question is:
Can I be a better hero than my Dad?
Deku and Mark might be two characters who cannot possibly seem to be more different, but you can actually list off a lot of similarities between them right away. Deku and Mark are both people who in a world oversaturated with superheroes spent most of their childhoods with no superpowers at all. Also, they were genetically supposed to inherit a quirk / viltrumite powers, but Deku was born quirkless, and Mark was an extremely late bloomer. They are also people who while being powerless civilians for most of their lives worship heroes. Deku collects so much All Might Merch he even stole some from Nighteye after he died, Mark attends comic conventions even after he becomes a superhero.
They also grew up worshipping one hero in particular who was essentially earth's strongest hero, for Mark it was his dad Omni-Man, for Deku it was All Might. They also both get the opportunity to train directly under their favorite hero immediately after they get their powers. At first this makes it seem like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. All Mark has ever wanted was to be a hero like his dad and make his father proud. Not only did Deku just want one person to tell him he could be a hero too even without a quirk, but his very idea of heroism is built around seeing All Might always save people with a smile.
However, both of them suddenly hit complication just when it seems like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. They are both confronted with the fact that their heroes are not who they expected them to be. They are overly idealistic heroes who have been dreaming of being heroes since childhood only to be hit with a much greyer reality. To the point where there innocence becomes a flaw in and of itself. The way they've been coddled and protected all of their lives leaves them completely unaware and unable to spot the grey areas in the world, or the people around them.
For Deku the moral greys exist in the villains around them. In MHA Society, villains are basically just bad guys in suits for the heroes to punch on television. They're seen as a faceless enemy, and there's very little in way of rehabilitation for villains once they're captured. Deku lived in a very black and white world before this point, and he's suddenly presented with the idea that his villains could be morally grey.
Deku's image of All Might is a hero who saves everyone with a smile, so he could never imagine that there are people who All Might has failed to save. He's never stopped to consider where villains came from, or if any of them might have legitimate reasons for their grievances.
This becomes a pretty central theme in MHA. It's first brought up here when Shigaraki talks about All Might acting as if there's no one he can't save. Twice brings it up again in his first backstory chapter, that the heroes only save the virtuous ones.
This is further enforced in the same overhaul arc with members who are loyal to Overhaul because they are society's trash who would have been thrown out otherwise. There is a group of people fiercley loyal to Overhaul who is a terrible boss, because he is the only person who would accept them.
edits belong to @stillness-in-green from bring it all back a tone poem on returning to staus quo located here on ao3.
In the War Arc this long running theme basically reaches a climax with the Hawks and Twice confrontation, where Hawks decides to try to offer Jin a chance to restart because he's deemed him "good" but he won't extend the same helping hand to the league who Hawks has determined as "bad." He then asks Jin to betray his friends in order to be saved, something that Jin rightfully calls out.
That Hawks only wants to save Jin because he's one of the good ones, and he's written off the rest of the league and left them for dead. Hawks choosing to divide between good and bad victims ad only save the one he personally thought was worthy of redemption, makes it impossible for him to save Twice who would never under any circumstances give up on the rest of the league.
Twice's death is a tragedy, but it also presents us a clear example of the failures of the previous generation. Even a hero who sincerely sympathized with a villain and wanted to help them start over wasn't able to help them because of this attitude of selectively picking and choosing who to save. If the heroes only save the innocent the I guess the lives of the guilty are worth less.
This is the questio Toga poses to Ochako, if the heroes killed Twice then are you going to kill me in order to stop me. This is the central subject of Shigaraki's speech to the heroes. That heroes and villains will never uderstand each other, because the entire hero system perpetuates itself on ignoring the needs of societal outcasts and rejects in form of the "innocent people" and those outcasts who aren't having their needs met eventually turn into villains who get systematically put down by heroes. Heroes and villains are incapable of understanding each other and breaking the cycle, because the entire system isn't built on helping people, but merely maintaining the idea that heroes are perfect, faultless saviors so normal people will feel secure, while the people the heroes have failed get swept under the rug so society can keep "functioning."
"You heroes hurt your own families just to help strangers. You heroes pretend to be society's guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn't protect. That means your system's all rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up, little by little, over time. You've got the common trash, all too dependent on being protected, and the brave guardians who created the trash that needed coddling. It's a corrupt, vicious, cycle. Everythig I've witnessed, the whole system you've built has always rejected me. Now I'm ready to reject it. That's why I destroy. That's why I took power for myself. Simple enough, Yeah? I don't care if you don't understand. That's what makes us heroes and villains."
So if the starting question is: Can I be a better hero than my dad?
Then everything I've detailed above is deliberation. Here we have, ever since the training camp arc, this slowly built up idea of why All Might was a flawed hero in the end.
Mark has to face the fact that his father is a more morally grey person than he could ever imagine, whereas Deku has to face the fact that the villains are more morally grey in his world, and that makes the heroes look more flawed in comparison as well. The deliberation is all slowly bringing Deku to think over what Shigaraki asked him all the way in the beginning in there first meeting.
Were there ever people that the heroes couldn't save? If so then what are you supposed to do with the victims you can't save after they grow up? This is when Deku begins to start forming his own answer.
Deku hears the advice of both the other OFA users, and The Stinky Old Man (Gran Torino) that killing Shigaraki is the best option, but wants to explore other options.
Scenes like this clearly telegraph what the answer / conclusion Hori is leading us to to be. The same way that Toya is a Todoroki is foreshadowed long in advance, statements like "All for one is a power meant for saving, not killing" clearly set up Deku's Endgame. Deku's end goal is to find a way use his power to save Shigaraki rather than killing him. Everything else is just a matter of deliberation, Deku knows what his edgoal is but the chapters between then and the end of the manga is Deku having to figure out how exactly to save Shigaraki without killing him.
You Heroes Hurt Your Own Families Just to Help Strangers
Invincible is the story of Mark Grayson, the son of Omni Man / Nolan Grayson. He's been told all of his life that his father is a viltrumite, a race of benevolent aliens who send out people like Nolan to alien civilizations in order to uplift their entire civilization. Which is what led Nolan to come to earth and become Earth's greatest heroes.
This turns out to be a big fat lie when within 12 chapters Nolan not only slaughters the guardian's of the globe, but also has a confrontation with his son.
Mark has wanted to be just like his dad his entire life. Only to be slapped in the face with the realization he's known nothing about his dad his entire life, shown rather brilliantly by these panels where Nolan tries to have a normal father / son conversation with Mark while covered in blood.
Nolan isn't from a futuristic utopia but from a brutal, fascist space empire. He didn't come to earth to help bring it up, but to weaken its defenses and make it prime for conquering. He didn't have Mark out of love, but to produce another soldier for the viltrumite empire.
Mark's entire schtick is that he's invincible, but he's so inexperienced as a hero that he gets beat up constantly despite the fact he has the strongest power set in the series b/c he has viltrumite powers. However, not only does the series introduce moral greys by continually showing how Mark even with the best power set in the series constantly gets his ass kicked, it also challenges Mark's black and white thinking and hero worship of his father by showing him the kind of man his father really is.
Mark has wanted to be exactly like his father his entire life, but now that's suddenly a bad thing. His father is a morally reprehensible person and Mark is now a descendant of an alien race meant to conquer worlds. Not only is Mark confronted by who his father really is, but now everyone in Mark's life judges him by comparing him with his father.
Mark has to work with Cecil and be his on-call Superhero, both to be able to pay for college, and also to prove that he's not his dad. The unspoken part of the agreement is that Cecil gets to keep a leash on Mark and Mark has to prove that he'll never turn out like his father to earn Cecil's trust.
Cecil is automatically suspicious of him because if Mark were to turn evil, the planet would have no defenses against him just like it didn't have any for Omni Man. Mark's mother starts to drink and blames Mark for Omni-Man leaving in a drunken moment of weakness because of how much the information that Omni Man only regarded her as a pet affected her.
The comic even shows us that in most alternate universes, mark actually did make the decision to join his father's conquest, and this universe is one of the few exceptions. This is also where we're introduced to a major reoccuring antagonist in the comics, and also the main antagonist / final antagonist of season 2 of the cartoon Angstrom Levy.
Levy is someone who can jump between dimensions and has traveled to almost all of them collecting his alternate selves. He has witnessed for a fact that in most universes Mark sides with his father instead of fighting against him.
Levy enlists the clone bros to build a device that would combine the knowledge of his alternate selves into one individual. This device ends up breaking tragically (partially mark's fault, but levy himself made the decision to stop the machine in order to stop the clone bros from killing Mark). Levy's memories become confused as a result of the machine malfunctioning, and he can't tell the difference between himself and his alternate universe counterparts. This means that Levy now remembers several alternate universes where Mark did turn evil, and remembers them as if they happened to him.
It's better elaborated upon in this post:
The process by which Invincible has had to condense and consolidate the plot beats of the original comic, coupled with the opportunity it's granted the writers to tighten up and emphasize its themes on a second pass, has resulted in a newfound appreciation for how unbelievably fucking good Angstrom Levy's whole character concept is. What's that, Mark? Your main emotional crisis this season is your fear of turning out like your father? Here, have an archnemesis who's out to kill you because his memories were inadvertently overwritten with the lived experiences of hundreds of alternate versions of himself whose friends and families were slaughtered in worlds where you did, in fact, turn out exactly like your father. Because it turns out that that is in fact the multiversal norm. That you turn out like your father. And now you're left to wonder what set of arbitrary coinflips pulled you back from that abyss in this dimension, and whether your luck is going to continue to hold into the future.
Mark is not only hit with the revelation that his father isn't as good as he thought he was, but also while he's in a crisis about about whether or not he will turn out like his father, he learns the answer is yes, in several dimensions he turns out exactly like his father.
In My Hero Academia there are families like the Todoroki's who balance the difference between a hero's obligations to society, and a hero's obligation to society. However, that's a side plot where I'd argue that the main plot for Invincible and it's main focus is what Mark owes to the world as a hero, and what Mark owes to his family.
It's not just that Omniman is trying to invade earth for the Viltrumite empire. It's not just that he failed as a hero, but that he failed as a father. What makes Mark snap, is hearing Omniman call Debbie a pet. Until that point Mark was in denial and still trying to reason with his father.
Invincible is about two intersecting themes: Is Mark obligated to use his incredible powers to help make the world better? Can Mark be a good hero and a good family man?
While MHA has more far reaching societal implications in its themes and questions, Invincible is more specifically about the Grayson Family. It's generational trauma on a society level, vs generational trauma on an individual level. The way Nolan was raised on Viltrumite effects how he raised Mark causing their conflict, and Mark's conflict with his father effects most of his young adulthood when he's trying to figure out what person he wants to be (read: not his dad), but also the way he parents his daughter with Atom Eve.
Omni-man failed Mark as both a hero, and a father. Mark feels the need to overcompensate for what his father did the world and all those innocent people by acting as Cecil's lapdog and doing whatever Cecil tells him.
However, Mark is much more hurt by the personal betrayal than he lets on. It's not just that his father killed a bunch of innocent people, it's also that Mark's father failed as a father, abandoning both him and mom and choosing to be a viltrumite rather than being Mark's father. Mark's stated reason for wanting to be a hero post the omni-man reveal is to prove he's not like his dad to the world, and also make up for the innocent lives he failed to save. However, his unstated underlying reason is Mark is hurt and betrayed his father didn't put his family first, and this causes Mark to always put his family first.
This leads to two insecurities / narrative flaws. One, Mark is insecure about becoming like his father so he tries to prove he's nothing like him by being the most selfless, perfect hero possible. Two, Mark is hurt by being abandoned by his father and doesn't want to become a deadbeat like Nolan so he gets extremely overprotective of his own family.
These two things are obvious in conflict with one another: A hero has an obligation to the common good which sometimes means sacrificing time with your loved ones. However, being a good family man requires a level of selfishness that directly contradicts the selfless hero that Mark is pushing himself to be. In the comic the way Mark prioritizes his family and loved ones over the common good and justice is made even more obvious. His first instinct on seeing Omni-Man again isn't to call him out for being an awful father, but to hug him and ask him to come home. Mark is a distraught son first, and a hero second.
Mark has two flaws, his fear of being like his father makes him try too hard to be a perfect hero, and his trauma over losing his father makes him prioritize his family over being a hero. It's very much a having your cake and eating it too situation, oftentimes heroes make huge sacrifices for their personal lives in order to be heroes, that's basically a theme discussed in the comic with Nolan being absent for a lot of Mark's childhood, and why Mark's relationship with Amber fails.
The show also introduces us to the idea that Mark is so afraid of becoming like his father that he deliberately holds back his punches. Which is good when he's fighting earth villains, but bad when he's facing viltrumites who can only survive being disemboweled, but will also come to wipe out all life on earth if they're allowed to live. In the show it's directly mentioned that Mark is holding back, in the comic it's implied when we see how helpless Mark is in the fight against other viltrumites. Mark lacks the resolve to kill someone and when fighting a viltrumite, failing to put them down can have consequences because they are galactic conquerors who will not show you any mercy.
This all comes to a head in the Angstrom Levy fight where Mark makes his first kill on-screen when beforehand he'd never fought to kill before, and even held back against galaxy conquering aliens who were out to murder him and his dad.
However. before we begin that.
Should superheroes kill?
People often act like whether or not super heroes should kill their villains is a black and white topic, where it actually depends highly on context.
Batman’s an entire character is written around how he wants to redeem Gotham and save the city, most of his villains aren’t even sent to prison they’re sent to Arkham a facility that’s supposed to rehabilitee the mentally ill so they can rejoin society. Batman has decided it’s his place to stop crime, not his place to decide whether or not people have the right to live or redeem themselves.
Batman is also at risk for being just like his villains, that’s why he’s foils with Harvey Dent, someone who tried to prosecute people under the law who then snapped and went full violent mobster vigilante. Batman actually is at risk for walking the same path as Harvey if he decides murder is an option.
In X-Men 97, there was a character known as Rogue who dropped Simon Bolivar Trask off of a building in an act of vigilante justice. This action makes sense in context for several reasons. One Rogue was raised by Mystique and Destiny, is a former member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, and began as a terrorist in the comics. She's not really a "moral highground" character like Batman. Two, Boliver Trask built a giant killer robot that resulted in the deaths of millions in Genosha which Rogue is a survivor of. Number three, Trask had no sympathetic reasons for building the genocide robot, he built the sentinels out of bigotry to wipe out mutants. He's not a victim in any way, he's an oppressor facing consequences for his actions.
Batman shooting Harvey Dent, his former best friend, a victim of severe mental illness and trauma that still has hope for recovery, and Rogue dropping the guy who made a genocide robot off of a building are both wildly different situations.
So in the context of MHA we have Shigaraki Tomura, a terrorist who's goal is to destroy japan enough that it will dismantle the hero system for good. Shigaraki Tomura is a ten year old child who lost control of his quirk and killed his family for mistake, he wandered for days in crowded city streets but not a single hero stopped to help him, then he was found by the main villain of the story and groomed for ten years into becoming his successor. Shigaraki is also surrounded by a group of societal outcasts who were failed by society in similiar ways, so Shigaraki knows he wasn't the only one failed by hero society and he starts to wage his war for their sake as much as his own.
In Invincible we have Angstrom Levy. Angstrom is not plotting mass murder the way that Shigaraki is. He is specifically only targetting Mark Grayson's family for revenge (at least the first time he showed up, the second time during the invincible war arc was different). Angstrom's revenge against Mark Grayson is misplaced, but to be fair the accident messed with his brain hardcore and he doesn't remember clearly what happened. He doesn't remember that he's the one who decided to stop the machine in order to help Mark. It's tragic. Angstrom also has the memories of like hundreds of different universes of evil Marks. Even though he's the victim of a tragic accident, he's also a victimizer in that he doesn't choose to just go after Mark, he deliberately picks Mark's family, his mother, and his infant little brother as a way of hurting Mark.
So both of these characters blur the line between villain and victim, but neither of them are like Trask in that they have no sympathetic motivation whatsoever. Shigaraki's actions don't come from bigotry, and he's not an oppressor. Trask was actually trying to do something good before his machine broke and his brains got scrambled, and now he wants personal revenge and to blame all his problems on Mark which is petty yes, but not on Trask's level of heartlessness.
So, there's a case that can be made here for both of them that there's room to save them. After all Mark and Deku aren't killers to begin with. Mark especially has an incredibly vested interest in not becoming a killer. Even if they don't explicitly go out of their way to save and redeem these two people, we're still at this point expecting the heroes to at least take down these two sympathetic figures non-lethally. Mark doesn't want to be like his dad and Deku has said explicitly he wants to save Shigaraki, and that OFA is a power for saving and not killing.
Also to sidestep this argument before people comment on my post with it.
What do you expect the heroes to just let a mass murderer live?
YES!
It happens in comics literally all the time.
Magneto, Wolverine, Jean Grey / Phoenix, Emma Scott, heck, OMNIMAN himself, all characters who have killed lots of people and all characters who get to live and even be on the heroes side. Of these three Jean Grey of all people has the highest body count.
Shonen Jump also has Vegeta. Have you ever heard of Vegeta? Most popular Shonen Rival of all time? Omni-man and Viltrumites are basically just Saiyans.
In real life they wouldn't let a mass murderer walk away but comics are not the same as real life. That's why characters are always punching dinosaurs all the time. Fun fact, if you were to try to punch a dinosaur in real life it would probably hurt your hand. I would advise against it. Dinosaurs are for the most part much stronger than human beings.
As I outlined above Shigaraki and Angstrom are different characters than Trask. They might all be murderers, but the first two have sympathetic elements and are humanized, they are victims of oppression (Angstrom's been killed by viltrumites in a whole bunch of worlds) whereas Trask is an oppressor.
So for both of these stories we are not expecting to see Deku and Mark kill their final villains (for the series and for this season). Deku because he's spent the final third of the series trying to work out a way to save the villains, and Mark because he doesn't want to turn out to be a violent murderer like his father so he's trying to be the most selfless, most perfect hero ever.
I THOUGHT YOU WERE STRONGER
So we finally reach the scenes in question and I thought I'd compare them without much commentary, just highlighting what happens without adding much spin.
So the final episode of Invincible Season 2 and Issue #33 of the comic is where Angstrom and Mark have it out. Angstrom appears in Mark's home and threatens his family. he brings up the comparison between Mark and his father right away. This is also something Angstrom has seen first hand by traveling to multiple universes where Mark has sided with his father.
In the cartoon he's a lot more confused because he's constantly remembering other universe's memories as if he were his own so he genuinely thinks he's taking down an evil viltrumite, in the comic he's being more petty and blaming Mark for his deformity (I think he doesn't remember that he was the one to take the helmet off by choice). In both versions he uses Mark's family as hostages to keep him from fighting back as he tries to send Markk to his death in several different realities.
Angstrom then ups the threat of violence from holding them hostage to threatening to kill them. In both the show and comic he brutally breaks Debbie's arm. Mark is sent through several more realities, only to discover that Debbie's arm is broken and lose his temper.
Mark and Angstrom's fist fight comes to an end, and while Mark has him on the ground he keeps hitting and hitting and hitting long after Angstrom stopped fighting back. Which is what prompts the famous "I thought you were stronger..."
Now, in this situation it looks pretty justifiable that Mark attacked Angstrom so aggressively,. it was self defense for one against a man trying to kill him and he only got truly aggressive after he saw his mother's arm get broken. Not only that he didn't intentionally kill Angstrom, you can argue he went too far in a case of clear self defense. Other people even tell Mark that this one isn't on him, including Cecil who compares Mark to his father the most.
Then, why is Mark so disturbed?
It's because this....
Is a deliberate parallel to this...
It's not just that Mark killed a man, it's that he killed a man by pounding on him relentlessly long after he'd stopped fighting back the exact same way his father did to him during their fight.
There's a difference between Mark say, fighting against a viltrumite and making a deliberate decision to kill them because of the danger that viltrumites represent to other people considering they are planet conquerors, and Mark killing this man because he lost his temper and couldn't control his own strength.
Mark spends the entire season trying to not be like his father, only to see first hand that he's capable of the exact same violence that his father is. The last episode of Season 2 summarizes this moment pretty perfectly in a montage of season 1 moments while Mark screams and breaks the sound barrier trying to push his viltrumite powers to their limits.
Mark: I'm strong enough and I can do this. It's all I've ever wanted for as long as I can remember. I want to do what you do. I want to be just like you. Omni-Man: You will be, son. You will. Mark screaming. Omni-Man: You'll outlast every single fragile being on this planet. You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away. Everyone and everything you know will be gone. Mark screaming. Cecil: You know who else said that to me? Mark: I'm not my dad. Mark screaming some more. KRegg: Your father will be execute and you can return to earth. You will assume the mission to prepare earth for our rule.
So not only is Mark hit with the realization that he's just as capable of being violent and angry as his father is. He also is being forced by the situation to become more violent out of pragmatism, because if he doesn't get strong enough to fight viltrumites then they're going to come to his planet and take everything.
Not only has Mark lost some of his innocence, he's also being forced to throw the rest of it away. It's why Mark drops out of college at the end of the season because any pretense of balancing between his human life and his duty as a hero is gone. He is basically forced to be a viltrumite full time now and will abandon any semblance of trying to live his own life for a very, very long time until his relationship with Eve starts to get serious.
Which is why a pretty justifiable murder in this context is presented as so bloody, gruesome and traumatizing an event for both the audience and Mark himself. We both know there's no coming back from this.
As for the death of main series villain Shigaraki Tomura, Deku ends up being forced to kill Shigaraki in a situation similiar to Mark. Though I will highlight one difference right away. Mark was trying to reason with Angstrom, but he was at no point like "I want to save Angstrom, he's a victim I want to find some other way of ending this bloody conflict between us." Mark just didn't intend to go so far as killing him.
Deku entered the fight with the explicit stated desire to save Shigaraki rather than killing him, which would make him different from the previous generation of heroes because he wouldn't turn a blind eye to society's faults and victims like Shigaraki accused him of.
Deku makes a journey into Shigaraki's mental landscape to find Tenko in a recreation of the memory of the day of his worst trauma. As Tenko's quirk activates, Deku attempts to grab the little boy's hands to comfort him.
Deku's "Why I am here" is markedly different from All Might's. Deku says the reason he wants to save others is to take their hands, comfort them and give them peace, whereas All Might as the strongest hero tried to keep peace by beating all the villains down. Deku's way to become the greatest hero once again, focuses heavily on saving others, and offering his hand to everyone without hesitation instead of picking and choosing who to save like previous generations.
Deku even says that he has to extend a helping hand to everyone because he's learning that the world is more complicated than he thought, he was ignorant to a lot of people's suffering, and he can't sweep their pain under the rug anymore.
For a moment Deku unconditionally extending a hand to Shimura Tenko even as his mental body begins to decay away wins over Shimura Tenko. Though Shigaraki also resists because much like Twice he doesn't want to abandon the rest of his friends even if it means he personally will be saved.
However, any attempts to save Shigaraki are interrupted by AFO suddenly appearing out of nowhere and taking control of Shigaraki's body yet again.
At this point Deku does exactly what Mark does, which is relentlessly punch Shigaraki's body to death in order to kill AFO along with Shigaraki. In some small defese Shigaraki was also there too punching AFO in his mental landscape so he was assisting Deku in defeating AFO he wasn't helpless the entire time.
But, basically we see the same scene happen with Mark.
A hero who does not wish to kill is forced by circumstance to kill a villain. In Deku's case it should be even more devastating because they explicitly went into the fight wanting to save Shigaraki and they believed their power was for saving and not killing.
Yet, we don't get nearly as horrified a response from Deku.
However, instead Deku's final words are just about how he couldn't forgive Shigaraki and had to put a stop to him no matter what.
Even the way the scenes are presented to us are entirely different. Mark punches Angstrom in a wasteland a dry, dead place, until he's soaked in Angstrom's blood, and painted everything around him red. Once again, it's a visual callback to Mark's father beating him half to death, which was Mark's own lowest point.
Whereas, when Deku punches Shigaraki until he disintegrates not only is the violence or horror of Shigaraki's death not acknowledged, but it's played as a triumphant moment where the clouds clear from the sky and the stun starts shining.
In the cartoon Mark killing Angstrom leads to a total screaming breakdown where he has traumatic flashbacks of his dad beating him and pushes himself to break the sound barrier multiple times. It also leads him to making big life changes like dropping out of college to become a hero full time and giving up any pretense of having a normal life. As seen in a scene where he watches Amber from the sky, and is tempted to go down and greet her and just flies off, because Amber represents his connection to his humanity.
Also, Angstrom doesn't even die. He comes back way worse and that's how invinicble war arc starts.
In the aftermath of killing Shigaraki, Deku gets melancholy about not being able to save Shigaraki only to be reassured he did save him in the end. Only to be told by All Might that it's okay because he still saved Shigaraki's heart even if he killed him.
DEKU: "I couldn't save Tenko's life." "I reached out to his heart, and even though his hatred was crushed," "to the very end, Tenko" "was the leader of the League of Villains." ALL MIGHT: "Let me tell you this as someone who has had a near-death experience," "I think it's in the expression on his face at the end." "If there wasn't a crying boy there," "I think his heart was saved after all,"
People also try to convince mark that he did nothing wrong and that there was no helping what he did in a situation like that, but he doesn't let himself believe them.
The ending lines about the last episode of Season 2, are this:
Eve: I'm sorry Mark. It's not fair. You don't deserve this. Eve: You don't deserve this.
Which has a double meaning. Eve is just trying to comfort Mark, because arguably he shouldn't have to feel guilty for fighting in self defense. On the other hand what Mark hears is You don't deserve this in the context of Eve's feelings for him. An alternate timeline version of Eve confessed her love for Mark. Mark was about to bring it up but decided not to. At that moment as Eve embraces and comforts him, what Mark hears because of his own self loathing is that he doesn't deserve Eve comforting him, or her love for him.
Just to clarify I don't think that Mark is crying over Angstrom Levy specifically. In fact over time he's painted to be pathetic in his obsession with revenge, and what he amounts to is just wanting to blame everything on invincible when it was partially caused by his own actions.
However, it's inarguable that killing (or rather seemingly killing Angstrom) deeply impacted Mark and how he saw himself as a hero. It's less about Angstrom, and more about the loss of control, and the realization of how powerful his anger and hatred can get and what that means for him personally.
It also shows us where Mark's priorities lie. Mark wants to be a perfect hero and a perfect family man, and Invincible shows us he can't be both, his desire to protect his family leads him to staining his blood when he was trying so hard to be a good, selfless hero. This is all a part of a deliberate arc where Mark chooses more and more to value his family over being a hero. I'm not going to say whether or not it's the right choice, but it's a choice he makes, as a part of his character development where as he grows up and becomes a father his priorities change.
My point is that this moment has an impactful change on Mark, for arguably the rest of the comic.
Now my question is, with My Hero Academia will the death of Shigaraki Tomura, the series greatest villain and it's greatest victim have an equal impact on Deku's character that Levy's death did on Mark's?
#bnha 424#bnha spoilers#invincible#mark grayson#deku#izuku midoriya#mha 424#mha spoilers#omni man#bnha meta#mha meta
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