#I feel like I was hit by a freight train out at sea

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Ch. 1 - The Handsome Stranger

Summary: The year is 1969. The place is the International Hotel. Valerie Pedretti, an aspiring singer, has a chance encounter with one Elvis Presley in an elevator that will change her life forever. Notes: To me, 1967-1971 EP is kind of peak Elvis, and so I wanted to write a fic with him smack dab in that time period. In the 1969-1970 period, especially, Elvis was probably the most handsome and alluring man in the galaxy. Lots of anachronisms and historical inaccuracies in this one, but just roll with it because it's fun! I based Valerie, in a sense, off of a mixture of Kathy Westmoreland, Joyce Bova, and Linda Thompson. Kathy met the real Elvis for the first time in an elevator, and that really inspired this work. Priscilla exists in this universe but she and Elvis get a divorce far earlier than in real life. Theirs, in some ways like real life, is a marriage of convenience and an "arrangement." Lisa Marie does not exist in this universe.

Las Vegas, Nevada, 1969

*

Vegas was shimmering mirage of bad decisions just waiting to snare me—a sucker-punch I never saw coming. The lights, the noise, the impossible promise of it all crashed over me in kaleidoscopic waves as my cab cruised down the strip towards the International Hotel. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching slack-jawed as sequined showgirls and vacationers blurred by in streaks of neon and rhinestone.

The cabbie swerved to the curb with a jolt, snapping me out of my daze. "International Hotel," he barked, his voice an ice bath to my face. I shoved a crumbled wad of bills into his hand and  stumbled out and into a swarm of hairspray and cigar smoke congregating under the hotel's blazing marquee. Blinking in confusion, I took in the frenzied scene unfolding—beefy security shoving their way through the sea of pompadours, vendors hawking glossy headshots, teddy bears and "I 🖤 ELVIS" pins. The realization hit me like a freight train. This wasn't just any weekend at the International. It was the kickoff of Elvis Presley's residency. Ground zero for absolute Elvis mania.

The irritation set in, simmering beneath my skin. "Shit," I muttered, suddenly feeling foolish for forgetting. Of all the rotten luck. Out of all the times to visit Las Vegas, I had unwittingly chosen the kickoff of Elvis's shows—an event drawing crowds I had no desire to mingle with.

I wove through the throng, lugging my cumbersome suitcases behind me. Inside the lobby was even more chaotic—a swirling kaleidoscope of big-haired fans and cigarette smoke lingering over shag carpet. Elvis was everywhere, his angelic face beaming down from posters, gold records, life-sized cardboard cutouts. A veritable religious shrine. Groaning internally, I caught my bedraggled reflection in a mirrored column. Of course I would show up to the Presley Promised Land looking like something the cat dragged in. Normally I'd at least try to pull myself together for check-in, maybe swipe on some lipstick or fluff my chocolate curls into place. After all, I didn't want to look terrible in front of people dressed to the nines. But after the day I'd had, I couldn't muster the effort.

My flight from Chicago had been delayed six excruciating hours due to "mechanical issues," which apparently was airline-speak for "sit tight while we screw you over." By the time we finally took off, I'd already stress-eaten two sleeves of Oreos and read the in-flight magazine three mind-numbing times. To top it off, I'd spilled coffee all over my only nice blouse right before landing. Clearly, some divine power had it out for me today.

Feeling sweaty and vaguely nauseous, I trudged to the front desk. The angular blonde behind the counter, Brenda, barely glanced up from her well-thumbed issue of Variety as I approached.

"Welcome to the International Hotel. Checking in?" She smacked her gum, eyes never leaving her magazine.

"Yes, uh, reservation should be under Deena Lovelace."

That finally got her attention. Her penciled brows shot up as she inspected me, taking in the coffee stains and rumpled slacks. "Wait, you're Deena? The Deena who told me she booked for the Sinatra audition tomorrow?" The doubt was palpable.

I gritted my teeth into a tight smile. "No, actually. I'm her friend Valerie. Deena got sick at the last minute, some kind of exotic flu, so I'm filling in for her."

Suspicion clouded Brenda's face, but after a long beat she shrugged. "Huh. Well, takes all kinds, I guess." She signaled to a bellhop in a red monkey suit and thrust a key into my hand. "Room 2806, elevators are that way. If you need anything, ask for Hector."

Hector the bellhop scurried over and hoisted up my bags with surprising ease for such a slight guy. I made a weak attempt to protest, but he just grinned and ushered me through the cacophonous lobby to the first hallway. The doors slid open and I thanked him, pressing a few crumpled bills into his white-gloved hand.

“I can take it from here, Hector.”

As I walked along, I looked at my reflection in the mirrored wall and exhaled slowly. My nerves buzzed like an exposed wire as I thought about tomorrow's audition. Landing a spot in the Sinatra chorus line seemed about as likely as shooting the moon at this point. I barely knew the song Deena had been rehearsing for weeks, my go-go boots had a broken heel, and my voice was ragged from practicing the whole weekend.

But damn it, this was the first real shot I'd had in ages to claw my way out of the chambermaid grind and actually make something of myself. To prove Ma right for always saying I had stardust in my veins, even when it landed me more trouble than applause growing up. I had to at least try. For all those thankless nights warbling in dim lounges, waiting for my big break. For Deena, who I knew would kill for this chance.

I'd barely begun my little pep talk when someone brushed by me, sloshing their vodka tonic onto my sleeve and snapping me back to the present moment. I weaved through the crowd towards another inner hallway, clearing my throat.

I turned on my heel and started hoofing it towards my room. The hotel's layout was an absolute dizzying mess of twists and turns in every direction. My thudding, ungainly footsteps were muffled by the shag carpet and the dulled roar of fans congregating throughout the hotel.

As I trudged on, the ambiance shifted gradually. The hum of voices faded away, replaced by an overwhelming silence that signaled I was getting farther away from the bustling core. Exhaustion tugged at my bones while I navigated the maze of hallways. My room was somewhere in this labyrinth, but my bed felt worlds away at this point.

My steps sank into the plush carpet as I drifted into a quieter, dimly-lit corridor that seemed less traveled. Finally, I found myself alone in front of a bank of elevator doors. I stabbed the call button and waited impatiently, my arms aching from the weight of my overstuffed suitcases. God, why did I pack so much useless junk?

"Must be close now," I muttered out loud, my voice barely audible.

With barely a thought, I slipped out of my heels and bent my toes backwards and forwards, allowing my sore feet to relish the heavenly softness underfoot. It was soft, springy, and absolute relief for my aching soles. Automatically, I began humming a familiar, nameless tune under my breath - just a few sweet, absentminded notes I always turned to for comfort when I needed it. The thought of finally washing this endless day off my face and jumping into a crisp hotel bed was the only thing on my mind as the gilded doors opened with a tinny ding.

*

The cab was empty. Relieved to finally have a moment to myself, I dragged my heavy bags inside and slumped against the mirrored wall. As the doors started to slide closed, a large, ring-adorned hand suddenly shot out, halting them.

I straightened up with a jolt, my exhaustion replaced by a flash of irritation. Great, just what I needed, another overzealous Elvis fan trying to cram into my personal space bubble.

But as the interloper stepped into the elevator, my breath caught in my throat. Standing before me, in all his smoldering, technicolor glory, was the man himself. Elvis fucking Presley. The aura he gave off was undeniable, that much was sure. And I recognized his face immediately, the same one splashed all over the posters and knick knacks in the lobby. There he was, outshining the garishly glitzy elevator cab like a supernova eclipsing neon. And next to him, a well-built redheaded man, his hand resting at something shiny on his hip. Bodyguard, most likely. Quickly, I shoved my feet back into my heels, silently cursing myself for having taken them off in the first place.

I blinked hard, convinced I must be hallucinating from sheer fatigue. But no, he was unquestionably real, from the polished black shoes to the perfectly coiffed onyx hair that shone like quicksilver in the light. His lean, powerful frame was draped in an immaculately tailored black suit, a shock of pink peeking out from the silk scarf knotted at his throat. But it was the penetrating, electric blue gaze behind tinted shades that truly unraveled me.

I'd never considered myself much of an Elvis fan. Sure, I could appreciate a catchy tune like "Don't Be Cruel" or "Teddy Bear," but I'd always been immune to the mass hysteria he incited in his besotted admirers. Yet here, in such close proximity to his cosmic charisma and undeniable sex appeal, I finally understood. This man was a force of nature.

The redhead caught my awestruck stare and chuckled knowingly. "I see you've met my friend Jon Burrows here," he said with a wink.

But this was no "Jon Burrows." I knew who it was, plain as day. And his affect on me was immediate. Was I dreaming? My pulse started racing. Should I say something? And just how the hell did this happen? I opened my mouth, then closed it, swallowing hard. Play it cool, Valerie.

Any lingering self-consciousness about my frazzled appearance just evaporated in the sheer force of his presence. Though judging by the unmistakably mischievous curl of his lip, my travel-battered state didn't seem to faze him one bit. His perceptive eyes met mine, always accustomed to the spotlight but now studying me with curiosity. He took in my slumped posture and visible fatigue without a hint of judgment.

"You've had yourself a long day, haven't you, honey?" That voice, richer than a Mississippi smokehouse, sliced right through me.

I could only nod dumbly, a lump forming in my throat. "I—uh, yeah. No. I mean... yes, you could say that," I stammered like an idiot. Get it together!

His smile was pure bewitchment. "Well, you'll be tucked in in no time, I reckon. I hear the beds are mighty comfortable here." 

I looked up at the ceiling in silence, tracing the swirling pattern with my mind's eye and trying to give off a vibe of cool indifference. But my stomach was actually rolling.  

To my surprise, he kept talking. "Pardon my manners. My name's Elvis, and this is my pal Red. Who might you be?"

My throat locked tighter than a cowboy's bullwhip. "Valer—?"

"Valerie." He drew the name out, savoring each note and curve as if testing its ring. Each single syllable seemed to undergo some mystical transformation, alchemized to pure liquid amber from his lips. "A pretty name for a pretty little songbird." A ringed hand discreetly adjusted the bejeweled cups shielding his gaze, maybe hoping to make out my sides better.

Elvis was still steadily playing the blue suede shoes off me, from his elegant bent stance to the teasing half-smirk barely shadowing those indolently hungover features—the whole routine daring me to go chasing his bait. But I was far too busy trying not to spontaneously combust. I screwed my eyes tightly shut for a half-moment, desperately grasping to regain some sense of composure with an oxygen-deprived brain. 

How did he know...?

Dumb question, Sherlock. The very notion conjured images of me, sweat-glazed and punchy-tired, mindlessly vocalizing sweet lullabies straight from my Off-Off-Broadway chambermaid days while I waited for the elevator. Of course he would've overhead that.

I cinched my mouth into what I hoped was a blasé half-smile, refusing to come completely uncorked by his pet name. I replayed the embarrassing moment in my head, wishing I could dissolve into the elevator shaft. Every breath I pulled in seemed to crackle with electricity. First I randomly share an elevator with The Elvis Presley, and now he'd overheard my nervous vocalizing and was complimenting me on it?

"Baby." A rich, salt-cured chuckle melted off his tongue, resining deep in my nerve center. "I got ears like a well-tuned radar dish. You in town for a show?"

I shook my head slowly. "Technically yes, but no. Just an audition," I replied, my heart thundering in my ears. I hoped he couldn't hear it pounding.

"Who for, if you don't mind me asking?" he inquired with that laser gaze.

I sucked in a steadying breath. Might as well take the bait since I'd already been barb-hooked but good. "I'm here for an audition, actually. Tomorrow. For Sinatra. I'm a singer. I mean, not like you, but hopefully one day..." I paused, unsure of how much backstory was worth burdening Elvis with. "Just got a last minute sub-in for a friend who's under the weather."

Something flickered across Elvis' handsome features before the mask of idle curiosity slid back into place. "Is that right?" His gaze raked over me again, slower this time, more deliberate. "And what will you be singing for Ol' Blue Eyes?"

Shit. Why was he asking me so many questions? My palms started to sweat as I racked my brain for a suitable answer. It wasn't like I could admit that I barely knew the material, that I was flying by the seat of my pants on a far-fetched favor for a friend. So I settled for a half-truth instead.

"Oh, you know. Just a little medley of standards. 'To Keep My Love Alive,' 'I Can Cook, Too,' that kind of thing."

Elvis nodded slowly, a shadow of a smirk still playing on his lips. "A classic set list. I'm sure you'll knock 'em dead, honey."

I started to stammer out a thanks, but Elvis was already moving past me towards the door as the elevator finally shuddered to a stop. He paused, throwing a glance back over his shoulder. There was a new intensity in his eyes when they met mine, a dark promise that made my toes curl involuntarily in my heels.

"I'll be rooting for you, songbird. Break a leg."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me weak-kneed and dizzy in a cloud of his smoky-spicy cologne. I sagged against the wall, trying to collect myself. What in the ever-loving hell had just happened? Had I honestly just been shamelessly eye-fucked by Elvis Presley in an elevator?

More importantly, why had I liked it so much?

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the treacherous thoughts as I finally stumbled out into the harshly lit hallway. It was late, I was tired, and I had an audition to rest up for. The last thing I needed was to dwell on smoldering looks from a celebrity Casanova that I had no business panting over in the first place.

But even as I went through the motions of unlocking my room and sinking face-first into the marshmallowy duvet, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering back to the electric encounter in the elevator. The way Elvis had stared at me, equal parts scorching and inscrutable, as if he was trying to crack some tantalizing code. There was no way I could have imagined that. The effortless command he'd exuded, the sheer magnetism rolling off of him in waves. How ridiculously, unexpectedly good he still looked, hips swiveling in slow-motion in my mind's eye...

I punched a pillow in frustration, annoyed with my traitorous libido. This was so far beyond the scope of anything I'd anticipated when I'd agreed to sub in for Deena's audition. But one thing was certain—my time in Vegas was shaping up to be a hell of a lot more interesting than I'd bargained for. And something told me that a chance run-in on a hotel elevator was only the beginning.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis fic #elvis x oc #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #songbird #elvis fans

[brucebocchi]

Ranking every new anime I watched in 2023, Pt. 4: #5-1

hey, i just started a ko-fi for my writing and possible other creative outlets. this post will also be available there, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i'm currently between jobs. the tumblr version of part 1 can be found here, part 2 here, and part 3 here.

The list is complete! This took a lot of work but I'm over the moon to get this out there. Please consider leaving a tip if you've enjoyed reading.

Here goes, my top five anime of 2023:

5. Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead

Zom 100’s debut hit like a freight train, especially coming from a brand new studio. It had everything: Visceral satire of Japanese work culture, incredible animation, vibrant colors in unexpected places, clever cinematography, wish fulfillment for everyone who’s ever wanted to Stone Cold their boss, and most importantly: Zombie titties.

The premise is magnetic: When your job makes you feel like a zombie, an actual zombie apocalypse means certain freedom from the grind. Akira Tendo realizes that he can finally use the vacation time he amassed while being exploited and overworked at a legally dodgy black company, so he writes a bucket list of everything he’s ever wanted to do, with all intention of checking off every single line item before succumbing to a zombie bite. He manages to rescue his hunky fuckboy bestie from college, and they embark on a road trip across Japan to finish out the list, along with a beautiful, risk-averse tsundere and a big-tiddy German weeb. 

It's a perfectly fine elevator pitch, and a welcome break from the guns-and-grit quagmire the zombie genre has been stuck in for the past two decades, but what makes any good zombie-flecked media resonate is the human element, which Zom 100 delivers expertly. You’re quickly given reason to care for all the characters, their motivations are clear and relatable, and you want to see them survive and live out their dreams. But more importantly, you just want to hang out with them through their hijinks. It even delves into more serious matters, like what we owe our parents as adults, the ways isolation and bitterness can drive people to act out in their worst moments, and even the factors that push abuse victims to stay with and even return to their abusers. 

Above all, though, it’s a powerful (if extreme) story of finding joy in the direst circumstances. Akira, Kencho, and Shizuka are all kindhearted, well-meaning people whose situations kept them from what they truly wanted to do with their lives, and there’s something kinda beautiful to be found in them finding a new opportunity during the possible end of the world (Beatrix is a sweetie too, but aside from the whole zombie thing, she’s already exactly where she wants to be). The final arc of the season, in particular, looks you dead in the eye and asks you: If you were suddenly faced with the ultimate freedom, would you use the opportunity to better yourself, improve the lives of others, or do whatever the fuck you want at everyone else’s expense? You may not like the answer at first if you’re honest with yourself, and that’s okay. The world isn’t over, and there’s still time for you to be your best self.

Zom 100, unfortunately, fell prey to a cruel irony in the form of production issues. Bug Films is a new studio made up of a former team from OLM that was responsible for similarly gorgeous projects such as Komi Can’t Communicate and Summer Time Rendering. They clearly saw so much of themselves in Akira's workplace exploitation that they had to swing for the fences here. The firm he works for is named “ZLM” in this adaptation, for fuck’s sake, and he fully destroys his zombie boss in the first episode. But new studio or old, the anime industry is a grind, and Bug had trouble keeping up; animation quality did take a bit of a dip after the stunning first episode, and episodes were frequently delayed as the summer broadcast season wore on and ended without the entire seasonal run making airwaves. Hell, it was impossible to watch the final three episodes until just a few days before I could write this sentence.

For what Bug were able to pull off, though, Zom 100 is outstanding. The paintball-colored blood splatters everywhere are an instantly-iconic look that strike the balance between horror and spectacle. Everything and everyone looks gorgeously faithful to Kotaro Takata’s art, and delivers an appropriately cinematic look that the manga always deserved. I almost don’t know what else to tell you but that this show is a fucking blast.

There’s also a zombie shark. What more could you want?

4. Oshi no Ko

I spent a good chunk of 2023 just assuming Oshi no Ko was going to be a layup for anime of the year. Shortly after moving on from Kaguya-sama, I rushed to binge Aka Akasaka's subsequent manga in time for the anime's feature-length debut. I was taken in by OnK's bonkers premise and sudden dark turn and quickly fell in love with the characters, and my anticipation only grew. I had high expectations for the screen adaptation, but nothing could have prepared me for just how lovingly it all came together. This is as close to a perfect adaptation as you can find, and the same can be said about both the preceding and following entries on this list.

Oshi no Ko is an audiovisual feast. Doga Kobo cleaned up Mengo Yokoyari’s character designs just a smidge, but put just the right flourishes on them to make every single cast member instantly iconic. One look at Kana Arima’s eyes will tell you everything you need to know about the level of care put into the visual design of this anime. The performances are on point as well; though many of the main cast members are relative newcomers to the world of seiyuu, you can tell they truly came to understand the characters before they even recorded one line. I’ve already gushed about Rie Takahashi in earlier entries, but her turn as Ai Hoshino is easily one of the best voice performances all year. Takahashi makes a meal out of every single second Ai spends on screen and gives you every reason to care about her as a character.

Showbiz manga in general is obviously missing an audio element, and when an adaptation can expand on that aspect well, it can help turn even middling source material into something transcendent (see also: Rock, Bocchi the). Music is central to Oshi no Ko, and the OP/ED combination is already iconic; YOASOBI’s “Idol” has had the best worldwide chart performance of any Japanese song ever, and the prolonged intro to Queen Bee’s “Mephisto” became a meme in Japan in the same vein as JJBA’s iconic use of “Roundabout.” Rather than taking manga characters’ word for it that someone is a terrible actor, we actually get to cringe along to an amateur actor’s hammy emoting. We get to see and hear what turned a fictional idol group into a national phenomenon rather than just see cute girls posing on the page. All of this is to say that while Oshi no Ko is an excellent manga, it needed a screen adaptation, and especially one of this quality.

Oshi no Ko deserves every shred of its success. I've never seen an anime make a splash this enormous with just its debut episode, even if it’s kind of cheating to say so because the first episode is almost literally a movie, and if I were to give an award for the best single episode of anime this year, it would be that one, hands down. Adapting the entire first volume into a feature-length debut was the correct move (mostly because it’s a tonal rollercoaster, and the Big Event that defines the entire story wouldn’t have happened until the fourth episode otherwise), and the investment paid dividends. The hype naturally died down a bit as the season wore on and settled into a more consistent tone and rhythm, but it remains an essential anime to 2023.

You may have noticed that I have said very little of what this show is actually about, and that’s by design: If you still don’t know the plot of Oshi no Ko’s first episode by now, I refuse to tell you: you need to go in blind. All I will say is that it is an idol anime that glorifies nothing. If you've read this far and still trust what I have to say about anime, I beg you to just take my word for it. It's an incredibly rewarding experience.

3. Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

There's just something so wonderful about taking in an adaptation of a work you’re already familiar with and knowing, almost instantaneously, that every single person working on it genuinely loved the source material and relished the opportunity to bring it to life. Nearly every single member of the original cast is in the dub (including the ones who went on to be MCU mainstays), Edgar Wright is back on as executive producer, Anamanaguchi reprise their soundtracking duties from the video game, and even Bryan Lee O’Malley himself helped co-write everything.

That last detail is probably the most important thing about this entire production: It’s not exactly a secret that the original Scott Pilgrim comics are very imperfect portrayals of a very imperfect young man. I knew reading them at the time that the comic did not have a great grasp on relationships and the dynamics between men and women, and that was at a time in my life when I myself was pretty terrible with and to women. O'Malley has said that he would only revisit Scott Pilgrim if it was “the right thing” and that he was leery of a straight retelling of a work he has since outgrown.

So instead, we have the Rebuild of Scott Pilgrim, to put it simply. Takes Off is a completely new story that reexamines the Scott Pilgrim comics, movie, and even game without undermining what came before it. This series is not a repudiation of Scott Pilgrim (the character or the franchise)’s flaws, nor is it purely fanservice; it splits the difference perfectly. It’s both more mature and completely self-indulgent. This show so easily could’ve marched to the familiar discourse drumbeat of “Scott isn’t the hero here” or “he’s actually not a good dude,” but it instead focuses on what should always be the second half of that sentence: “But Ramona still sees something in him.”

Yes, Ramona Flowers is effectively the protagonist of a new work that doesn’t even have her name on it, and it tackles some surprisingly necessary questions: What was her responsibility in creating seven evil exes in the first place? What made them evil? Are they even that evil? This series opens up entire worlds of possibilities within the extended cast and gleefully dives into them. Though Takes Off may not flesh out every single character, it does take its time with several of the ones who really did need a little more meat on their narrative bones, and even gives some characters new roles just because it would be fun to see them in new situations.

I still cannot believe they got Science Saru to make this show. “They made a Scott Pilgrim anime” and “They brought back the movie cast” are already good enough fodder for that Vince McMahon meme, but “It’s produced by the motherfuckers who made Devilman Crybaby” had me falling out of my chair. The animation maintains O'Malley's chunky, cartoony character designs and works wonders with line weights and simulated camera effects to give everything a tactile, weighty feel, like it’s somehow (and very appropriately) splitting the difference between a comic, a film, and even a video game. There’s a wide array of visual effects that helps to place all of Scott Pilgrim’s influences further on its sleeve: Dynamic action scenes, camera depth and chromatic aberration, and our beloved pixel art inserts. It looks like every Scott Pilgrim, everywhere, all at once.

The live action film’s cast did a (mostly) great job reprising their roles for animation, and there are some wildly unexpected cameos in there. Voice acting is not quite the same as stage or film acting, but everyone pulls their weight, and dialogue feels far more naturalistic than your average anime dub. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Ellen Wong and, surprisingly, Chris Evans are outstanding in their respective roles. I’m gonna have to watch this again in Japanese, though. Fairouz Ai as Ramona, Aoi Koga as Knives, and Yuichi Nakamura as Lucas Lee? Sign me the fuck up.

This is not an apology or revision of Scott Pilgrim the character or work, it is a celebration that still acknowledges and improves on the flaws. If you’re a Scott Pilgrim fan who’d been clamoring for a proper cartoon adaptation, Takes Off may not exactly be what you’ve wanted, but it may be what you needed.  Chances are pretty good that you’ve grown since the first time since you read, watched, or even played something with Scott Pilgrim’s name on it, and it’s a blessing to say that while the character may not have grown, Scott Pilgrim the franchise finally has. 

2. Jujutsu Kaisen, season 2

I’m so glad I picked up JJK this year, if only because I would’ve otherwise been caught in a mudslide of memes I didn’t understand.

Season 2 follows in lockstep with the manga from where season 1 left off, beginning in extended flashback with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc, covering Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto’s high school life and the events that would eventually create the rift between them that came to shape Jujutsu Kaisen’s story. We see very different versions of Gojo and Geto here, much younger and more naive, but only marginally less powerful as they’re sent on an escort mission with the future of the jujutsu world in the balance. Because this is Jujutsu Kaisen, and because Jujutsu Kaisen is for masochists, nothing happens as planned.

We unfortunately do not get the precious slice-of-life hijinks the OP suggests, but if you watched season 1, you should know better by now than to trust an OP. While the initial arc does have its quieter and goofier moments (and some delicious homoerotic subtext), it wastes little time in declaring that this is a new version of the Jujutsu Kaisen anime: Lines are thinner, character models are looser, and action is buckwild. Two of the best fakeouts in the series happen in the span of five minutes. Those unfamiliar with the source material may have wondered for a bit why there needed to be a five-episode prequel arc to start the season, but the pieces would soon fall into place.

And then came Shibuya.

The Shibuya Incident arc was what made Jujutsu Kaisen a must-read in every new issue of Shonen Jump. It reset the status quo for the story and shaped it into something far beyond another “teenagers with special powers go to a school for teenagers with special powers” battle shonen. Needless to say, the hype for its anime adaptation was astronomical.

The Shibuya arc sets the stakes early: Nobody is safe and there may be no happy ending. Triumph is short-lived, and every threat is existential. Everyone who has been in the series up to this point plays a role, and you’re not going to like a lot of what’s needed of them. This arc punches you in the gut, repeatedly, and in between each blow is some of the most intense and innovative action you’ve ever seen. It will hurt, and you will beg for more.

I liked this arc a good amount in the manga, but by the end I was ready for it to be over. I didn’t get the hype around Toji, thought the deaths were cheap, and was so. FUCKING. sick of Mahito. Seeing it in fluid motion onscreen, though, everything just clicked for me and I couldn’t get enough. I fully get now why the girlies have been wetting themselves over Toji; the character modelers were HORNY horny this season. I see now how even the most unceremonious deaths fit into the narrative, or at least one will make perfect sense to me once Gege Akutami and I have a little chat :). And holy hell do I understand now that Mahito is one of the best shonen villains in the history of the medium, that sick bastard. Season 2 was my Rosetta stone for Jujutsu Kaisen; I see it all now. My sixth eye has been opened. Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the literate one.

JJK’s second season has a markedly different feel from the first from a presentation standpoint, and I feel it’s for the better. Every aspect of the presentation is on point, and I want to call attention to the audio element: The production music, with a heavy focus on jazz piano, is wonderfully unique for the genre, and the voice acting remains top notch. These are banner performances from the likes of Yuichi Nakamura, Kenjiro Tsuda, Takahiro Sakurai, Asami Seto, and Nobunaga Shimazaki, but the performance that defines the Shibuya arc (and by extension the entire season) is Junya Enoki as Yuji Itadori. 

Enoki’s been great this year in lead roles in goofy works like KamiKatsu and Girlfriend Girlfriend (not to mention minor roles in Skip and Loafer and the vending machine isekai), so it’s no surprise that he continues to crush it as JJK’s protagonist; Yuji Itadori is a goofy dude. But the Shibuya arc, for as much ground and as many characters as it covers, is ultimately Yuji’s story as he is forced, time and again, to endure the cycle of the “suffering builds character” meme. His peers and mentors in the first season told him repeatedly that the life of a jujutsu sorcerer is a short and unhappy one, and he now has to shoulder that burden for everyone. Enoki nails every single part of a wide spectrum of emotions Yuji is forced to endure over the course of the Shibuya arc, be it determination, naive confusion, or just pure unbridled trauma. If this isn’t the best voice performance of the year, it’s top five at worst.

Like every major battle shonen release in the age of social media, this season has had its detractors. Reviewers at Anime News Network kinda hated the story, but that’s something you take up with Gege Akutami (and get in line behind the manga readers). I've seen people complain about the animation. Which, like. If you don’t like the new visual style, sure, fine, that’s up to personal taste. But if you think this season isn’t well-animated, you just plain don’t know ball. It may not have a cohesive look, but that was the draw for me: Season 1 was good, but at times I felt like it looked a little too rigid, a little too shiny, a little too samey. Season 2, especially the Shibuya arc, looks like everything. Sometimes it looks like an action film, sometimes it looks like Mob Psycho, and at points it looks, most crucially, like Akutami’s most iconic panels brought to life, stroke for stroke.

The varying styles weren’t an accident: Nearly each episode had its own director, and those resumes cover top-tier animations like Mob Psycho, Devilman Crybaby, Kill la Kill, Heavenly Delusion, Oshi no Ko, FLCL, even Akira and goddamn Golden Boy. While the episodes don’t look entirely consistent from one to the next, the variance is less jarring and more “holy fuck, what am I going to see next?”. The looser style of animation is what Jujutsu Kaisen always needed; Akutami’s art is very loose and dynamic, and his action panels are borderline inscrutable at times. Season 2 nails the feel of JJK to a degree that its adaptation always needed and lets its directors, storyboarders, and animators run wild. At times, characters will look like they leapt right off the page; others, they will look like something you have never seen before in your life.

It is unfortunately impossible to talk about this season without also bringing up MAPPA’s working conditions, and how animators were frequently overworked against nigh-impossible deadlines. It was an open secret last year as Chainsaw Man aired that MAPPA’s animation schedule was a meat grinder, but that came bubbling to the surface quickly as JJK’s second season aired. Word got out midseason that MAPPA had its animators sign NDAs about their work conditions, but complaints still broke containment and several staffers took to social media to apologize for their work looking incomplete, and some even publicly announced that they are leaving the studio. It is stunning that the finished product looks the way it does under such conditions, and I respect the animators for putting in such incredible work, but something has to give. Several major series suffered from major delays this year, some of which I gave significant praise, but MAPPA is lucky that all of JJK came out on time. I wish I knew what could push them to treat their workers with the dignity and respect (and pay) they deserve, but that’s a conversation that covers much wider ground than just anime.

MAPPA has already announced that the series will continue through the next major arc. While there is quite a bit of it that I would love to see on screen, I can only hope that the animators get to rest. For now, though, we can be proud of what they made under duress, even if some will forever wonder what it would look like if the staff were treated like something a notch above cattle.

1. Frieren: Beyond Journey's End

Fucking hell. This is why I watch anime.

I was curious about this one because a couple major anitubers I watch had reviewed the manga and were effusive in their praise. I knew the anime adaptation was on the way, so I decided to hold off on reading and see what the anime would be like, and with Keiichiro Saito (director of Bocchi the Rock and key animator for Oshi no Ko’s instantly-iconic OP) at the helm, my excitement was piqued. That guy turned a B-minus 4-koma into an innovative hit comedy, so what can he do with a beloved source material and the backing of a legacy studio like Madhouse?

I've had so much to say about Frieren since the premiere, and I still have so much to say now, but to talk about what I love about this show is to talk about everything about this show. When the first four episodes dropped, I described it as “Mushoku Tensei without the baggage,” and I stand by that. There were multiple points throughout Frieren’s first cour where I'd nearly forgotten that I wasn't watching Mushoku Tensei. Every single element is on point: The animation is fluid and expressive, backdrops are consistently gorgeous, voice performances are quickly memorable, and the music is evocative and instantly iconic. This is, plainly, one of the most beautiful pieces of television I have ever seen on nearly every level, be it visually, sonically, or thematically.

The initial four-episode debut was a masterclass in establishing the setting, building emotional investment into the characters, and slowly but deliberately laying out the premise of the season to come. The titular Frieren is an elf mage who, for a very brief decade of her millennium-long life, lent her skills to an adventuring party to slay the Demon King. Though she helped save the world, she was never one for stuff like adulation or socializing, so she breaks away from the group to continue her hobby of collecting various spells and arcana. She regroups with them after 50 years, having kept in contact with none of them, only to find them older and frailer. The party’s leader, the hero Himmel, passes away shortly thereafter, and Frieren breaks down at his funeral, having realized exactly too late how important he was to her and that she’d never really bothered to get to know him as a person.

Some time later, she’s called by the surviving human member of the party, Heiter, under the guise of translating an old text, but soon realizes that he duped her into helping train the young orphan girl he adopted, Fern, as a mage. Upon Heiter’s death, Frieren and Fern head out together, carrying out odd jobs and retracing Frieren’s steps from the journey that changed her more than she realized. They soon learn from the other surviving member of the party, Eisen, that (ooh) heaven is, in fact, a place on earth, and that Frieren may be able to properly pay Himmel his final respects in person. In order to do so, they must make a trip to the north, past the Demon King’s castle. The story of Beyond Journey’s End is, quite literally, a nostalgia trip.

Frieren's story is one of grief and regret, but also how we can use those emotions as a way of moving forward rather than looking backward. Her history is a long one and her memories seemingly everlasting, but she uses them to pave the road ahead of her rather than let them shackle her to the past. This is best exemplified by Fern herself, as well as the other companion they pick up the way in Eisen’s former trainee, Stark. Frieren can carry on the legacies of Heiter and Eisen by helping their young wards grow into the capable young adults they’re meant to be, while Himmel’s legacy lives on in the memories of the towns and villages he helped save along Frieren’s new path, and most importantly, in Frieren herself.

The degree to which Himmel truly mattered to Frieren becomes more apparent to her as the story goes on, and it becomes more evident in her actions. Himmel was a gentle, selfless (if self-aggrandizing) man who was every last bit the hero the modern world believes him to be. With every statue of him she cleans, every flower she plants in his name, every core memory that returns to her, we are watching Frieren become more and more like him in real time. You would expect a thousand-year-old woman to be pretty set in her ways, but we see her holding off on old, bad behaviors because of how Himmel would react to them back then. As Fern and Stark grow into young adults, we see her beginning to treat them the same way Himmel treated her. Frieren doesn’t realize it until later in the season, but it’s apparent to us early on that Himmel well and truly loved her, and I feel that it’s dawning on her that she loved him too and didn’t recognize it. That is tragic in and of itself (this show absolutely is a tearjerker at times and I will cop to getting misty-eyed as I write this), but there is something beautiful, well beyond my grasp, in being able to honor the memory and carry out the legacy of a loved one in how you treat those around you. I don’t think anything could have made Himmel prouder.

Frieren herself is a really goddamn good character too (and expertly voiced by Atsumi Tanezaki, best known for voicing Anya Forger in Spy x Family). Though she is portrayed as quiet and uncaring for the early part of the story, it’s been really delightful to watch her open up, and above all, inadvertently reveal that she’s actually just Really Fucking Weird. For as self-assured and put together as she always seems on the surface, it was great to learn that she’s just an enormous slob (she just like me fr), and any outward expressions of smugness or her offbeat sense of humor are always a joy. “Deeply weird person trying to act normal” is always fun, and there’s just something so consistently delightful about seeing someone so typically calm and intelligent get caught in a mimic chest every single time.

I still can’t get over how fucking good this show looks. Beyond Journey’s End features some of the most intricate, loving animation I’ve seen for stuff as simple as someone putting on a jacket. Action scenes are few and far between, but not a single frame is wasted when shit pops off. Not everyone is as detailed as possible at all times, and they don’t need to be, but everyone looks incredible when they need to be. It’s well above my pay grade to accurately say so, but this show could be a lesson in proper animation budgeting. I could go on and on and on, but I’ve written nearly eighteen thousand words about anime, so I’ll wrap it up. 

The debut season of Frieren will continue into 2024, and if the quality remains a constant, it could very well be one of the best anime of next year too. It has remained as MyAnimeList’s top-rated anime ever for its entire run, warding off the legion of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood fans. Frieren deserves it. I say with no hyperbole that this is one of the most perfectly realized things I’ve ever seen on television. This is an essential watch for anyone who likes fantasy anime, anime in general, or fantasy in general.

#anime reviews

[amaretigris]

Could you do a one-shot where the reader gets kidnapped by pirates and Eric goes and recuses her to bring her to safety. It’s your choice if you want to add smut after that situation happens but if you don’t and just want to keep one-shot that just has fluff i’m fine with that as well.

Hello! Thanks for this ask. I am happy to do these for you guys, I only ask that you respect the basic etiquette of making requests. I do these in my free time, which I will soon be short on, so please keep in mind that they are requests and basic manners still apply. Not directing this at you specifically, I just want to avoid any future crass asks. :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 1.3k words

Everything

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Sailing back to the kingdom to see your Prince, the salty sea air whistled through your hair. You couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of holding him close again. You had taken a short voyage to your homeland to visit relatives that you hadn’t seen in far too long. You weren’t originally from Eric’s kingdom, but your parents made the move there when you were small. You had held only images in your brain of your home island all these years, no solid memories. It was nice to revisit the place and see what it was like as an adult. Having just had your 18th birthday, Eric surprised you with the idea of the voyage. He ordered his fastest ship and his best crew to escort you there and back safely. He wished that he could accompany you, but there were too many things that required his immediate attention at home.

Sighing out of contentment, you let your thoughts wander. How did you get so lucky to have a handsome prince like Eric fall in love with you? You still weren’t used to the idea after about a year of being with him. He didn’t care that you weren’t royalty, seeing as how he couldn’t stand royalty himself. Eric could escape with you and feel normal for once in his life. That’s all he ever wanted. A crashing sound startled you from your thoughts as you involuntarily jumped. Turning from the bow of the ship to investigate, a bottle smashed across your head. Blacking out, only patches of light came in and out of your vision. You thought you were being carried somewhere, from the little sense that you could make of the situation before you slipped into complete unconsciousness.

Your head was pounding. That’s the first thing you felt as you stirred awake. Creasing your brow and lifting your hand to your head, your arm stopped short of it. Something was rubbing against your skin. Blinking your eyes open, you looked down to see a rope tied around your waist and encompassing your arms. You sucked in a sharp breath as the reality of your situation hit you like a freight train. Frantically looking around the room, you saw that you were being held on the lower deck of a ship. Not Eric’s ship though. You didn’t recognize this one. You turned your head from side to side to try to look behind you. It looked like you were tied to a wooden deck beam. You started hyperventilating. This was bad. Really bad. Trying to take calming breaths, you heard a door wrench open behind you. You didn’t move a muscle as you waited for the approaching person to walk into your line of sight.

The man carried an odor with him; the pungent smell of body odor and alcohol mixed assaulted your nostrils. Not your favorite scent if you had to pick one. You examined the man’s back as he stopped a few feet in front of you. He had scraggly black hair and wore a captain’s hat. Shit. Pirates.

Your anxiety was multiplying by the second. You refused to speak first, fixing him with a stony glare as he turned around. As one dark brown eye met yours, you swallowed the lump in your throat. The sudden, chaotic sound of laughter made you jump again. Showing his few remaining yellow teeth, the pirate laughed hysterically at the sight of the frightened young woman in front of him. What a prick.

Settling his laughter down into a cheeky grin, the man finally spoke.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss. It seems that there’s a prince waiting for you to arrive back at his castle. Seems to be a good trading chip to me. This has nothing to do with you, really. You’re just collateral damage. But you’ll feel better knowin’ that your life is worth your weight in gold. Or, ‘f nothin’ else, we’ll see if the prince really fancies you, aye?”

Winking at you with his one uncovered eye and turning to leave, you started to speak before snapping your lips shut. Trying to quell your anger, you reasoned with yourself - there was no point in trying to bargain with pirates. The ache in your head was still quite pronounced. You winced at the pain and tried to find anything to distract yourself. Looking down at the rope again, you struggled to see if you could sit. The tight knot didn’t budge. Instead, you swore that with your wiggling, it got tighter and cut into your arms more. Letting your head bounce back in defeat, you started to sob. You weren’t sure how you could possibly get out of this situation alive.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Back at the castle, news had reached the Prince that his vessel was boarded by pirates on the outskirts of the port. He heard nothing but his rapid pulse in his ears after that sentence. Eric sprang into action. Running past the staff that broke the news and flying down the stairs, Eric raced to his study. He pulled his sword off the mantle, the one he hoped to never have to use, and rushed out to the dock. He yelled at the staff to get all hands on deck before sprinting up the ramp onto the ship. The Siren. It was normally used as a trading vessel but was well equipped for speed and efficiency on the water. He only hoped it could move fast enough. If anything happened to you, he didn’t see how he could go on. Shaking his head of that thought, he set to work to get the ship moving.

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After crying for at least an hour, your head was infinitely worse. You relaxed your body as best you could between the beam and the rope. You figured that you could at least try to sleep. The stress of the situation and adrenaline coursing through your body had taken its toll on you. Nodding off, you weren’t sure how much time had passed before you heard metal crash and scrape against more metal. You shook your head and tensed your arms. You weren’t sure what was coming; you just knew that you couldn’t go down without a fight. Even though you couldn’t do much in your current state, you were damn sure going to try. You braced yourself and tightened your jaw. The door crashed open behind you as you let out a squeal. You had to compose yourself. Come on, (Y/n), it’s now or never. Time to be brave.

You were preparing to kick at your attacker when the set of bright blue eyes that you’d been longing to see all morning suddenly flashed before you. Pain and anger were the first things you saw on his face as Eric rushed to you. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, I was so worried. I thought I’d lost you.”

Tears clouded your vision, prickling at the corners of your eyes when Eric cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“Please, please don’t cry, (Y/n). I’ll never let this happen to you again, I swear. Here," he said as he reached for his sword, “let me cut you free.”

With one quick lash of his sword, Eric cut you free from your bonds. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you fell into him.

“Eric. Thank you. I can never repay you," you sobbed into his neck.

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, Eric shushed you.

“(Y/n), having you by my side is payment enough. I thought I’d lost you. I’ve never felt a pain that deep," he choked out as his own eyes welled up with tears.

He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, sending tears running down his face.

“You mean everything to me.”

#the little mermaid 2023 #jonah hauer king #prince eric #prince eric x reader #prince eric x you #prince eric x y/n #my stuff #answered #jonah hauer king x y/n #jonah hauer king x reader

[bxwitched]

Diamonds Are Forever - Part Three

Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, dark content, sexual assault, death, sex, nudity, angst, violence, swearing. Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk.

Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You're rescued from being one of Vought's experiments, but are you really safe?

Word Count: 2.4K

AN: This ended up being much longer than I had planned but here it is. Comments, shares and likes are appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.

You flip the three men off over your shoulder as you start towards the house, stopping intermitently to tug at the hem of the short dress or adjust your feet in the ridiculously high heels that Butcher had coerced you into.

'You gotta blend in, love.'

'You mean I need to look like a hooker.' Soldier Boy had snorted at that and you had made a mental note to chew him out for it later as you close the distance to the rear patio.

You freeze as you near the edge of the pool, the sounds of pleasure coming from inside are like a symphony of sin and a cocktail of sweat, sex, and cheap perfume hangs heavy in the air. It hits you like a freight train and overwhelms your enhanced senses, you force yourself to take deep breaths as you scrunch your eyes closed, it's all too much and you will yourself to focus, block it out.

You straighten your back and tilt your chin up as you regain your composure, you fake an air of confidence as you take measured strides into the home, ignoring the naked couple who are engrossed in each other by the patio door.

Everywhere you look is a sea of bare flesh, the air is thick, almost sticky as more supes, men and women than you can count fuck openly without a care in the world. You are surrounded by the slick claps of flesh, moans, groans, screams and the low grumble of sex toys. You're paralysed, so bewildered by it all that you can't help but flinch when you're startled by the sharp crack of a leather riding crop, followed by a squeal.

Your entire body feels hot, both from embarrassment and arousal and there's a strong tingling sensation between your legs. You curse as you shift on your feet and feel a flood of wetness in your underwear, your body reacting to the activity around you against your will.

You accidentally lock eyes with a tall man a few feet away and you swallow deeply, he has a woman positioned on all fours on the coffee table in front of him and he's pistoning his hips into her roughly from behind. His hands grip her flesh tightly and you can see the discomfort in her features as his movements become more erratic, too fast to be human. He stares you down as she cries out beneath him.

"How about you next, gorgeous?" His baritone voice sobers you and you force what you hope is a sultry look.

"I'm just going to slip into something a little more comfortable, ok? I'll be right back." You throw him a wink and continue through the house. You need to find the twins, the sooner you find them, the sooner you can get rid of the others, only then will Soldier Boy finally fulfil his end of the deal and kill the bane of your existence. You can't get distracted.

You weave through the hallways and duck in and out of the crowded rooms, politely declining the advances of the male and female supes who proposition you as you search for your marks. You let out a breath of relief when you finally find the twins in question, they're animated, sitting in front of a flat screen and screaming at each other whilst the female of the two fusses with some wires.

You type out a text with the room location to Hughie and press the send button, the green line is almost all of the way across the screen when a weighty hand lands on your shoulder and you jump in shock, spinning on your heel to face the owner.

It's the tall brunette from earlier, he blocks you in against the wall with his large frame and grins predatorily as he eyes your figure. You tense as his hands wrap tightly around your hips and he pulls your lower half flush to his, his exposed cock presses hard into your stomach and leaves a wet smear on the fabric of your dress, a testament to his earlier activities.

"I hope you're not trying to hide from me, gorgeous. You said you'd be right back." You barely conceal your disgust as he snakes a hand further down and grips your ass in his large hand, he gives it a hard squeeze and groans lewdly.

You can feel the anger bubbling up inside of you, you want to tell him to fuck off, to hit him and feel the satisfaction of his nose crunching under your fist, but you know that you can't make a scene. Not here, not now.

You take a deep breath before putting on your best dumb smile, you throw in a giggle for good measure and hope that you're convincing.

"Hide from you? Never! I was just uh-" You flounder for a moment, trying to think of a believable excuse.

"I was just looking for somewhere a little more private for us to go.."

You groan inwardly as you realise what you've said too late. He raises an eyebrow at you in surprise and his grin widens, exposing his pointed canines.

"Are you shy sweetie? Don't you want me to fuck you right here? Let them all see?" You run a hand along his exposed shoulder, fighting the urge to maim him as his fingers wander further, slipping under the hem of your dress to toy with the edge of your underwear.

"Maybe I just want you all to myself?" His chest puffs slightly and you feel his cock twitch against your belly, you fight the wave of nausea that rolls through you. Good, he's bought your act for now.

He snatches your hand in his and starts to drag you back through the house, towards the stairs. You feel eyes on your back as you reach the first step and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Soldier Boy stood in the doorway, looking back at you with an unreadable expression.

What the fuck is taking him so long?! You think as you pray you don't have to carry out this distraction for much longer.

You're pressed to the back of one of the bedroom doors, desperately trying to ignore the feel of this supe's hands on your skin, his body pressed against yours and the feel of his mouth laying sloppy kisses on your neck. His touch is nauseating and you want nothing more than to rip off his cock that he's currently grinding into your hip.

Your self-restraint at this point is outstanding, otherworldly even, that is until his hand slips just under the waistband of your underwear and all of your resolve crumbles.

You throw his hands away from you and shove his chest with force, so much so that he flies a good fifteen feet across the room. He hits the wall with a crash, leaving a man sized dent as he slides down it and into a heap on the floor. It takes him a moment to reorient himself and sit up, he growls as he shakes the loose plaster from his hair and levels you with a scowl.

"You fucking bitch!"

He's across the room and on you in seconds, he delivers a backhand your cheek, it's hard, but the look on his face is priceless when he realises that you're uninjured by it.

His eyes widen when your hand clasps tightly around his throat and his hands clutch at your arm as you lift him to the tops of his toes. He's trying to scratch your skin, to dig his nails in, anything to get you to release him as you choke him out. Your face pulls into a sneer as you watch him panic.

"What's the matter, baby? You practically spit the word. "You don't like it rough now?"

His eyes are bulging slightly and his face is puce, he looks on the verge of passing out and you want to stop, to let him go but you can't. The anger burns hot in the deep of your belly and all you see is red.

You hear a commotion in the distance, screams and hurried movement and then, it hits you.

You cough as you pull yourself into a sitting position, you've been thrown several feet by the blast and your ears are ringing loudly, the room is blackened around you and the furniture is is in pieces, destroyed. The other supe lays lifeless in the corner, a pool of his own blood is forming around him and there's a large piece of metal sticking out of his chest, his eyes are open but empty.

You step through the hallways, carefully avoiding the debris and the bodies that are strewn across the floors, some whole, some not. The metallic stench of blood is overpowering and screams sound in every direction. You breathe heavily as you take in the carnage around you.

Both you and Soldier Boy stumble into the room at the same time, he looks disorientated and confused, he holds his chest with one hand whilst his green eyes take in the destruction around you.

"What happened?" He mumbles out. You flash Butcher a look of concern which he returns, you're about to speak when a voice singsongs behind you and freezes you in your tracks, still in place as you feel your blood run cold.

"Diamond.."

You turn slowly to face the source of your nightmares, he's grinning at you but you know that he's furious, you've learnt to read him, you can see it in his baby blues and in the way that his gloved hands ball into fists at his sides. He tutts loudly and wags a finger as he stalks towards the three of you.

"William, didn't your mother ever teach you not to steal other people's things?" His voice is condescending and you see Butcher's jaw clench.

You bristle as he looks at you pointedly, his face is now eerily expressionless and Butcher straightens his stance, readying himself for the inevitable fight.

"Yeah, well. Who am I to refuse a damsel in distress, mate? Especially when she hates your fucking guts." You flinch as Homelander unleashes his laser eyes on Butcher, throwing him into the nearest wall with a crack.

You rush to crouch down by his side, checking for a pulse and you exhale sharply when you find his steady heartbeat. He has no major injuries from what you can see, he's just been knocked unconscious.

Homelander's focus settles on you again and he smiles.

"Don't you worry angel, all is forgiven. I just need to kill this one and then we'll go home, hm?" A shiver runs through you, the warmth in his words is unsettling and you scowl back at him, no longer able to hold back the venom inside of you.

"Fuck you, you fucking psychopath! I'd rather die than have your bastards!"

His face drops at your outburst and his expression hardens into stone, the vein in his neck throbs as his voice fills with malice.

"Too bad you can't."

Soldier Boy steps forward then and partially shields you from Homelander's view with his body, you thank him in your head, grateful to have a barrier between you and your tormentor.

Homelander grins as he starts to recount to Soldier Boy about how much he idolised him as a child, how he was the only one who was almost his equal and you watch as he stares back at the lunatic in front of you, indifferent.

"Buddy." His deep voice is gravelly as he eyes Homelander with a look of distaste. "You think you look strong? You're wearing a cape. You’re just a cheap fucking knockoff."

The crazy glint in the supe's eye is the only warning you have before he's flying across the room and taking Soldier Boy with him, he slams him into the wall, momentarily winding him but then he starts to fight back. The two are exchanging blows, moving and ducking as they land hits on each other, the fight seems to be going in Soldier Boy's favour until Homelander gets him against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat as he lifts him off of the ground.

You're on your feet before you can think, sprinting towards the two men. You jump onto Homelander's back and wrap your arms around his throat in a chokehold, cutting off his airways.

He drops Soldier Boy in surprise and grips your arms instead, he's trying hard to get you off of him but his efforts are in vain as you duck your head down and sink your teeth into his left ear, biting down until you feel the pool of hot blood in your mouth and he screams in pain.

In a last ditch attempt to shake you he suddenly flies upwards, his body lands horizontally against the ceiling, with you behind him and the force of it crushes you beneath his weight. Your breath catches in your chest as you feel you ribs crack and your body goes still, you crash to the floor in a heap, choking for air as the pain crashes over you.

You hear the fight resume around you even in your half-conscious state, you hear the crashes of fists meeting flesh and the grunts of exertion. You cough shakily and groan when you feel blood in your throat, the iron tang is unpleasant on your tongue.

Butcher has since rejoined the fight and in the moments between the waves of pain you question how he is still standing and not a pile of singed meat on the floor.

You roll onto your side with as much energy as you can muster and spit out the blood that's pooled in your mouth, you whine as the movement causes the broken bones in your chest to shift.

They're winning you realise, as you see that Butcher and Soldier boy have Homelander pinned to the floor on his stomach. Soldier boy has his knee on his back, leaning his entire body weight onto the other man as he grits his teeth and furrows his brow in concentration. You frown as Hughie appears in a blur from nowhere, naked as the day he was born and grabs hold of Homelander's left arm, helping to keep him in place.

"Do it! Now!" Butcher's voice fades into the background as you focus solely on Soldier Boy, the tendons in his neck are flexed and his teeth bared as his whole body tenses. A bright light radiates from his chest, it's warm, like a beacon as it burns brighter and brighter, you watch until you're forced to close your eyes, the light burning at your retinas.

'This is it.' You think. You rest your head back down against the solid ground, all of your energy has left your body. 'It's over.'

The crash of glass is the last thing that you hear before you blackout.

<Part Two Part Four>

@je-suis-argent-miel @stoneyggirl2 @little-x-wolf @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @planet-ashtroid @lovestruckgavemefeels @siospins2 @lisa-stilinski @n-slayaaaaa @lizamango @stareatceiling @ria132love @zabblegrabble @globetrotter28

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fan fiction #soldier boy #the boys amazon #the boys fanfiction #the boys prime #jensen ackles #hughie campbell #homelander #the boys tv #the boys season 3 #the boys spoilers #the boys season three #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #the boys fanfic #ao3 writer #fan fiction author #ao3 fanfic #herogasm #the boys s3 #the boys series #soldier boy x y/n

[steddieunderdogfics]

Our first writer's spotlight feature is: @anthotneystark! With seven works on Ao3 in the Stranger Things fandom (for ao3 users only), they've written five works with the Steddie ship tag!

Nominated by @thefreakandthehair, they recommend the following works by mywarisalreadywon:

Fools in love (Is there any other kind of pain?)

But when it's your brother (Sometimes you look the other way)

I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea (I will stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me)

My wounds cry for the grave (My soul cries for deliverance)

Sold your soul (Built the higher wall)

Kat is an absolute treasure and such a wonderful writer! Her ideas are always so fresh and so interesting, and I've never read anything from her that doesn't just hit. All of her works are so well-crafted and well-written, characterization is always on point, and I can't say enough about how much I genuinely enjoy every single thing she posts! - @thefreakandthehair

Below the cut, @anthotneystark answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I just find them so compelling, and there’s so many ways to shift the story around a bit or put them in different universes, like the options are just endless in a way a lot of the ships I’ve loved can’t be.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m such a sucker for hurt/comfort, but I feel like that’s such a broad range, right? More specific would be the trop of one or both having insecurities and getting that “I love you and I will choose to keep loving you” moment.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Probably the breakdown moment of finally finding a safe harbor, or realizing that people love you, and it just hits you like a freight train and you can’t do anything but fall apart, and that can go hand in hand with found family, but that’s my specific gut-punch feeling that I want to put in every fic.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Oh this is so hard! I have so many that I go back and read time and time again, so many that I absolutely adore! God, just picking one is so nerve wracking, I’m too indecisive, so I’ll say my top three (in no particular order): Sanctuary by SpicedSage, I’ve seen your face before, my friend,but I don’t know if you know who I am by HMSLusitania, and The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Oh for sure! I’ve had a rom-com idea bouncing around in my head for a while, I just have to figure out a good starting place for it!

What is your writing process like?

The majority of the time, I start writing out my stories on paper. I scratch it down at least enough to get me started and use that kind of as a springboard. When I can get to a point of typing it up, having that and editing as I go helps me to really build momentum and then I can just let it flow, but that initial momentum is the hard part between getting the story out of my head and onto a page. If I’m stopping and starting, I reread and edit what I’ve typed up as my springboard, so by the time I’m finished, I’ve reread it all enough times that I’m sure I’ve got everything in the order I want.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I’m very sure that I do! I start a lot of sentences with conjunctions and I try to write, at least in some parts, so it reads like a stream of consciousness without entering first person. For me it’s almost like I type how I talk and sometimes I get a little too far into that and have to reel it back.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

 Oh definitely when it’s finished. I lose motivation for periods of time and have to rotate between projects, so I feel much better about stuff when it’s all just done and I don’t have to worry about being stalled for too long.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m kinda torn on this one! Like I’m super proud of all the heart and the emotion I felt and tried to express in But when it's your brother (Sometimes you look the other way), but My wounds cry for the grave (My soul cries for deliverance) was huge for me because that’s my biggest single chapter fic that I’ve ever written. If pressed, I think I’d have to go with the former just because that one in particular was so heavy for me on a more personal level.

How did you get the idea for But when it's your brother (Sometimes you look the other way)?

This fic is honestly so full of my own personal feelings that I get a little choked up thinking about it too much. I’m a younger sister, so I’m constantly in this cycle of making fun of my older sister and calling her names but having this deep love for her. My family isn’t one that really talks much about feelings, but there’s so much love there and I’m finding myself constantly thinking back on my own life about so many moments where neither of us was prepared for what we had to do, but I looked at her and thought she was invincible and I feel like that’s the core of Dustin and Steve. The “that’s my brother, he’s so tough and grown up and he’s always okay” and then the sort of devastation of realizing that this person you’ve always seen like that has a lot of moments where they’re scared and hurt and struggling but not showing it. There’s just a lot of me in that fic.

When writing I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea (I will stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me), what was something you didn’t expect?

I don’t know that there was anything I didn’t expect, because I try not to really push expectations onto my work, I try to just let it flow and figure it out from there. But something that felt right that I hadn’t initially planned for was the moment between Steve and Joyce. We haven’t seen them interact really, and I’ve seen a few different takes on them and how they’d see each other, but I honestly loved the thought of him having this moment of trying to hold it all together because there’s so much weight on his shoulders and the moment he sees someone who’s safe, someone who has been judged so much and wouldn’t be judgemental of him, he breaks.

What inspired Fools in love (Is there any other kind of pain)?

This one actually started as a “haha what if Steve was born on a holiday” and then I made it a little angsty. Because I do like the born on a holiday and your birthday gets overlooked vibe, but then it was just a moment of thinking about what if it gets overlooked not because it’s a big holiday, but because people just don’t believe him and how much that would hurt year after year.

What was your favorite part to write from I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea (I will stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me)?

Definitely the bit about Steve begging for Eddie to keep him, with that warring feeling of not wanting to be restrained but wanting to be chosen. Feelings are so often multidimensional and that was something that just really spoke to me.

How do/did you feel writing But when it's your brother (Sometimes you look the other way)?

I cried so much. Like I said, there’s so much personal feeling in there, so much of the way that I am with my siblings is there, and we didn’t have any life or death situations, but that sort of love, it just sticks with you forever. In equal moments I’m Steve and I’m Dustin in there, being a middle child and all I’ve got both experiences, so I definitely had a few moments where I needed to step back and let my own feelings settle again.

What was the most difficult part of writing Fools in love (Is there any other kind of pain)?

This was actually my first fic written and published in over three years. So the hard part for me was actually just working up the courage to post it. I’ve been dealing a lot with depression and anxiety and burnout for years now and just the general dissatisfaction with my own writing, so the love I got after posting that was really just so special to me and I can’t fully express how much it means and how encouraging it was knowing people liked it.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

My favorite line is either this one from My wounds cry for the grave: “But right now, he just leans over, laughing with his favorite person ever, his heart soaring and matching hers, beat for beat.” Or this moment: “He drops right there, like a puppet with its strings cut, like a stone in water. Like Atlas being crushed by the weight of the world. Dustin is the only one close enough to make sure his head doesn’t hit the ground; he’ll be grateful for that later. In that moment though, surrounded by people who love him, sprawled on a cold tile floor, willing Eddie to be alive with his whole being, Steve Harrington’s heart stops once more.” Both of these were things I had rotating in my head for so long that I go back to those parts over and over just to feel them again.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Oh I have so many things that are half done, but none that are near finished enough to try and hype them up yet. I literally have a running list of ideas I’m adding to here and there and I just follow the inspiration!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

The only thing I can think to add is that I’m just absolutely so flattered and tickled about someone liking my work enough to nominate me for this! I’ve always tended to be more of a lurker in just about every fandom I’ve been in so this is such a surprise and it means the world that my writing touched someone enough for them to think of me. 

Thank you to our author, @anthotneystarkm and our nominator, @thefreakandthehair! See more of @anthotneystark's work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #writer's spotlight #steddieunderdogfics #antotneystark #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[phanfictioncatalogue]

2023!Phan Masterlist

A Piece of Me (ao3) - Sinninghowlter

Summary: Dan is obsessed with Polaroids. Phil loves kissing Dan.

a six to a nine (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: phil has some doubts about his new haircut but dan helps to reassure him in his own way

a snapshot (ao3) - yonpote

Summary: phil takes a photo

birthday cake (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan is back home from tour just in time for Phil’s birthday.

And it just wouldn’t be a birthday without a slightly questionable cake.

fallow & blossom (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: He’s half-drunk and laughing in the hotel room with these people that he loves and knows that this, this is living.

Finding my way back to you (ao3) - alltears_noricochet

Summary: Dan has a strange feeling something's going to happen. At first, it's nothing, until it's not. Will Dan and Phil make it home to each other safely after being separated?

fools before april (ao3) - okaydoomer

Summary: April fools day 2023 was in a few weeks and Dan and Phil still weren't sure what they wanted to do.

You know what they ended up doing, so here's a short fic about how it might have happened.

home (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Dan comes home to find things have changed.

In another life you still would’ve turned my head (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes across old black and white photos of two queer men messing around, one playing with the other's hair, just like he did in a recent video with Phil. He gets caught up in the emotions that he would have fallen in love with Phil in any universe. He crawls into Phil's lap and tells him exactly that.

“Is that really what you think?” (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phil is laying in the center of the bed, which is how Dan knows his head is bothering him today.

A ficlet about heads and humans.

japhan 3.0 (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: snapshots of the japhan trip 2023

keep quiet (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: This feels indulgent in a way he hasn’t felt in a while. He’s tired after a night of being social, tallying up points and arguing with Phil and their friends about which countries had the best Eurovision songs, booing and complaining when their favorite didn’t win. And he’s sweaty from sleeping in close quarters. But he can’t bring himself to stop the building arousal between them.

pink + white (ao3) - maestronomy

Summary: dan and phil in japan, sharing bites of a dango whilst thinking about their enticing future together ahead - and forever.

safe like spring time (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: phil reflects on his teenage self

Say The Word, Back To You (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: During their third Japan trip, Dan and Phil reflect on a notebook of things to complete together, written in 2009.

so tell me i’m a rainbow (it makes me feel alright) (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan wanted to go to London Pride this year, but doubt and anxiety creeps up on him and he can’t make himself go. It’s okay.

third times the charm (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Phil doesn't get sick in Japan, Dan worries anyway.

too soft for all of it (ao3) - theloveofbees

Summary: phil loves dan, and he loves dan's hair.

loosely based on phil's tweet on 26 march 2023.

We balance each other out on the seesaw of life (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil had dragged Dan to Isle of Man after his return home from tour. The sea air would do him good (even if it gave him hobbit hair) and he could be surrounded by Phil's family (who were his family too). He hadn’t actively planned to drag him onto a seesaw on a playground but it turned out to be a precious moment all the same.

would it be okay if i came home to you: part 2 (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: dan comes home after the final tour date

you can see it with the lights out (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Somehow it’s taken Dan until he got to Japan, but here it’s caught up with him, hit him like a freight train. Phil keeps laughing at him, showing him pictures on his phone of Dan’s face softened by it, posture loosened by it.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #2023 #2023 masterlist

[apotelesmatiki]

scarred hands would shakily place ‘out of our heads’ by the rolling stones on her old westinghouse record player .

" come on , come on . work you stupid thing . " as if by some magical intervention, the record began playing . a bit warped at first but soon the sound evened out . now to get her stats homework out of the way. heh , easier said than done. since they’d escaped those backwoods freaks connie had been slacking in all things : her schoolwork , her parents , her friends … everything . in fact , one could say she’d been actively avoiding those things .

after all , how could she be expected to go back to the way things were … to laugh and be happy and blissfully ignorant ? no , she was aware now . aware of the evil of the world and that would cause her to be hyper-vigilant of her surroundings , of the people she’d interact with and the energy of the space around her . she’d be going back to paris, il once this semester was over to spend summer back on the farm. ‘ maybe familiar surroundings will be what i need ’ she thought as she completed her homework.

leaving the album to play connie would hum along —standing to straighten up her apartment — until she felt the familiar tendrils of fear tightening around her chest. it would began with a subtle unease, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck that whispered of danger. connie would fight to bury it but they persisted, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment.

and then it hit her, like a freight train barreling through the darkness: the memories, vivid and unrelenting, flooding her mind with images of blood-soaked walls and the sound of that thing’s chainsaw revving in the distance. she could feel the panic rising within her, a primal scream clawing its way up from the depths of her soul. heart thundered in her chest, each beat echoing in the silence like a drumbeat of impending doom. breathing became a battle, each inhale a struggle against the invisible weight pressing down on her chest. she felt as if she were drowning in a sea of terror, gasping for air that refused to fill her lungs as the walls seemingly closed in around her.

sweat slicked her brow, her palms clammy and trembling. she was paralyzed by fear, trapped in a waking nightmare from which there was no escape. time lost all meaning as she struggled to regain control of her racing thoughts. each moment felt like an eternity, stretching on into infinity. and then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, it was over. the panic receded like a tide retreating from the shore, leaving her drained and disoriented in its wake.

as connie lay on the floor of her apartment , trembling and exhausted, she knew that the nightmares would return. they were a part of her now, woven into the fabric of her being like scars etched into her soul. but she also knew that she was a survivor, that she had faced unimaginable horrors and emerged on the other side. and as long as she drew breath, she would continue to fight, to defy the darkness that threatened to consume her.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ i’m tougher than i look { inner musings } #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ she deserves peace bro #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ wanted a lil drama #Spotify

[cosmefuianito666]

【 “Tickles!” 】 (HenchDevil)

─── Boss∼ Wakey, wakey! ─── exclaimed the purple demon as he entered with a cart. ─── I brought you breakfast in bed~ ─── he crooned.

A twitch of the Devil's ears made him smile, but with a lazy yawn and a turn, he settled back to sleep.

Henchman didn't usually allow the Devil to eat in his bed unless he was sick. The reason was as simple as having to clean up the crumbs or, worse, wash the sheets due to some carelessness. However, that didn't stop the Devil from trying his luck from time to time trying to get that privilege out of him.

If he had listened, then why would he decide to ignore such an offer?...

─── Boss, boss, boss... ─── the purple demon began, shaking his head repeatedly. The Devil's ears flattened against his head knowing what was coming next: a scolding.

─── He can't just stay in bed all day doing nothing.

"Yes I can" mumbled the Devil.

─── What was that?

─── Yes I can! ─── the demon king replied before slipping between his sheets, Henchman gasped in horror. A mischievous smile grew on the Devil's face.

Until the sheets were ripped off.

─── Boss, up! ─── The purple demon ordered. The Devil's enraged look collided with his, but that did not intimidate him.

─── Or what?! ─── The Devil challenged smiling.

─── Or this will be war.

─── Oh yeah? The war of whatAHAHAHA!

...And here he was, with the Devil hiccupping and writhing under him.

─── I give up! I give up! ─── he begged him.

─── Really? ─── Henchman's eyes lit up.

─── No. ─── The Devil replied smiling. Henchman didn't have time to register it before his world spun.

Now the tables had turned, the Devil was the one who was lying on top of Secuaz, cornering him.

─── My turn. ─── and with an evil smile, he proceeded to "torture" the purple demon. Now it was Henchman's uproarious laughter that filled the room, tears soon rolling down his chubby cheeks. His plump body was the victim of countless spasms as pleas for mercy poured out again and again from his mouth.

The Devil couldn't deny that he enjoyed that sight.

─── Do you give up? ─── the Devil questioned amused, delight practically dripping from his voice.

─── I give up, I give up! Please boss! ─── Henchman asked between tears and laughter.

─── I like it that way.

The battle ended as planned, with him victorious.

Once sure that the game was over, the purple demon inhaled deeply before sighing in relief. After so much fighting she was short of breath, his chest swelled and distended making his belly sway like the waves of the sea. Soft gasps still left him, tears and spilled beads of sweat finding their way to the floor.

When Henchman lazily opened one of his eyes he found the Devil watching him intently.

He opened his mouth for an instant, then closed it the next, unable to form a coherent thought. The way his boss looked at him made him feel inexplicably exposed, to which his body contracted in an attempt to make himself impossibly smaller. Nervous butterflies fluttered in his stomach, his tail flicked from side to side.

He had never seen his boss like this.

The dark hairy chest was expanding and retracting in what appeared to be deep breaths. On either side of his head the king's serpentine arms stood steady as pillars, lifting him up like a moonless night. A pair of glowing ruby eyes held him pinned right in place, calm as candle fire in the dark.

─── B-boss? ─── Henchman emitted weakly, barely above a mutter. The usual pale face of his now flushed.

The Devil soon woke up from his reverie after hearing it.

The fantasy was broken; the reality of the situation hit him with the force of a freight train, the reality that this purple demon was just his assistant, his right-hand man! and he lay confused by the current compromising situation.

His eyes went wide and his throat went dry, his shattered confidence galvanizing him into action.

Oh craps...

The Devil pushed himself up with his hands to stand up in record time. The speed of the maneuver nearly cost her a fall if not for his trusty trident. But that couldn't matter less.

─── S-enough "dissuasion" for today! ─── he decreed with nervous bitterness in his voice, earning a startled look from the purple demon.

A pang of guilt pricked his heart, but he had no choice. At least that's how he felt. This was the best and only gamble he could think of now to safeguard his pride. With practiced disdain he dusted his fur and held out his hand in a hint of kindness.

Henchman was lost.

A moment ago he had been in the most claustrophobically excited moment of his life with his boss, and now things seemed to have returned to their normality as unexpectedly as a balloon bursts.

The Devil sighed, steeling himself with a small sip of patience. With one deft move he caught the purple demon's arm and hauled it to its feet.

Oh!

─── Heh... Thanks, boss. ─── Henchman added awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck in a nervous reflex.

The Devil's look denoted annoyance and impatience, avoiding him like the plague.

─── Yes, yes, yes whatever. Now, if there's nothing else you have to say. ───The Devil struck the trident from him.

───W-wait, boss! I...

A misty cloud of dust and he was gone.

Henchman's gaze fell, his heart lightening to him dejected at being ripped from the company so abruptly. Words he had wanted to say rolled out of his mouth.

───...I wish you a good day.

#the cuphead show #henchmanxdevil #henchman #the devil #the devil cuphead #henchdevil #oneshot #fanfic #el diablo #secuaz #secuazxdiablo #alternate universe #playtime

[redeyeflyguy]

Wonderful Things That May or May Not Be Wonderful!!! When talking about topics in the fighting game genre, characters, special moves and music tracks are likely what come to mind but let's not forget that none of these things would get to shine unless they have a stage to do so. Stages in fighting games are a lot like stages like in theater. Constrained boxes with detailed backdrops to set the mood and scene for each and every throwdown. Said backdrops can range from badass to breathtaking to even calming. This comparison is most apt with 2-D games. Your Street Fighters, your Guilty Gears and such. However, other sub-genres tend to jazz up the rulesets of their stadiums. 3-D fighters like Tekken and Virtua Fighter add gimmicks like varied shapes, breakable walls, and ring-outs. Then there are platform fighters like Super Smash Bros. which get even more zany with sizes, platform layouts and hazards. They may not be the first thing you think of in fighting games and they may not be an instrumental part (especially if you prefer throwing punches in a padded cell) but the terrain where a fight takes place can be just as important and impactful as those fighting themselves. Bottom Line: Fighting game stages are undoubtedly wonderful.

BONUS WONDERFUL!!!: Originally, the post above was just going to look at one particular stage or be a big top 7 list but instead, I'll just write down seven of my favorite FG stages in no particular order that I happen to enjoy quite a bit. One per franchise and if this was actually a list of my favorites, it would just be a bunch of beaches and trains.

Snow Town (Blazblue): It's what it says on the tin. A cute & quaint snow covered town with snowmen, adorable penguin people, and giant turrets that also look cute because they have spotlights positioned as eyes. Snow is also at the character's feet and it disappears when they move through it.

Lars Canyon (Guilty Gear Strive): Speaking of breathtaking views, this desert canyon maze fits the bill. The rivers, the ravines, and the titanic skeletons felled by titanic stone swords all fit the album cover aesthetic of this franchise to a tee. The addition of stage transitions via launching your opponent into the stratosphere is just icing on the cake.

Temple (Super Smash Bros. Melee): I have a lot of fond memories of this stage with my cousin and friends back in the day. Grandiose, mystic, sprawling. It was an easy pick for making 4-way Free for All's feel just that bit more epic.

Snoop Dogg (Tekken Tag Tournament 2): I'm just in awe that this even exists. A golden tinged arena with rapper Snoop Dogg sitting on a throne straight out of one of his music videos while his sick lyrics serenade you in the background. Celebrity endorsement at its finest.

Tower of Arrogance (Darkstalkers 3): You fight standing on the side of a skyscraper at night in the midst of a bustling city. That is all that needs to be said.

Kanzuki Beach (Street Fighter V): As stated previously, I love me some beach stages and this one has a lot to offer. Water at your feet, a giant Japanese inspired resort in the background, several old-school Capcom cameos and of course, some super sexy monkey on a sea turtle action. I mean just look at 'em' go.

The Freight Express (Garou: Mark Of The Wolves):  The pixel art in this game is amazing. I could shout-out any of the stages but a sunset sea view when riding a train car just can't be beat. Plus, the train stops inside a station when the second round hits.

#wonderful #fighting game #stages #video games #backgrounds #locations #street fighter #guilty gear #super smash bros #tekken #darkstalkers #blazblue #garou mark of the wolves #setting #snoop dogg #backdrop

[primordialfell]

Do Gods Dream?

The ones that wish they were human do, without understanding of what mortality will truly mean. What nightmares would scare a god?

Perhaps a dreamed life. An entire dreamed life, day by muddled, muffled day, and imagined memories concocted by the hour. It was a mundane life, a wasted life, each day just slightly to the left, and each aspect of each day not exactly right but with no reason or rhyme to be wrong.

Until the entire mortal life feels wrong, and everything and every memory feels wrong. The dream continues, and somehow encompasses an entire existence, with every pain and broken bone. Every single car crash, every death, every fight, every misery.

And no joy. There's no joy in it. The world is plastic grey and there are claw marks on everything.

And you have no power over it.

And you can't wake up.

what, you have nothing to say this time?

you're normally so insistent on barging in to my every sleeping moment. so insistent that I never be allowed a moment's peace. you're obsessed with me. with my pain. you call it sanctity and holy but I know that you are a cruel creature of low cunning and low remorse. have you finally learned sorrow? finally decided to leave me in peace?

Your feet find purchase on shifting sand.

oh god.

YOUR NAME IS ETERNATUS. You are the Worm Our God. At least, you are in waking. In sleeping, you are a creature of isolated weakness and quiet contemplation. It is here that you are vulnerable, dreaming deep beneath the sea as you consider old things, great things of high import and such wondrous magnitude. Your castle is old and it is interminable.

SOMETIMES YOU WONDER what it might be like to be human. You have worn their skin and walked among them, as you have for every species you have visited, but it is not the same. You're old, incalculably so, and because of that a lifetime for them passes by you in a blink of an eye. You breathe and an entire generation is dead. In the time it takes you to smile, you have watched a nation fall. You know this. You know what you are. You are a coiling ouroboros. It would take a man a hundred years to walk your length.

YOU'RE OLD. You're very old. As if that makes what you're about to go through any easier.

You wake up. Your hands are rough and calloused as they fly to your face and all your memories come rushing back. Fuck. The alarm on your bedside table blares without mercy, screaming at you to get up and get dressed already, you're going to be late for work. Fuck again. It's Wednesday, worst day of the week for Poke Mart freight.

You prepare yourself for your terrible manual labor job. You arrive late and your manager yells at you again. He does it to everyone. Your abuse isn't special. Neither are you.

You see on the news more stuff about stuff. Terrorist attacks in a distant region, the Kanto bill is dropping in value. Wow, another PWT. You'll get to watch rich assholes with millions of yen fly out to a stadium and get sponsored by corporations to battle with their purebred, IV trained, six-stacks of absolute monsters from the comfort of your ground floor studio apartment.

The news hums at you again. Black pyramids found in Hoenn. You change the channel. Mt. Silver claims another life. You change the channel. Political unrest in Sinnoh. You change the channel.

You switch to your streaming services and watch worthless TV for the rest of your night.

You wake up. Your hands are rough and calloused. All your memories come rushing back as you look at your alarm. Fuck. You're going to be late for work. Fuck again. It's Wednesday. worst day of the week for Poke Mart freight. You prepare yourself for your terrible manual labor job. You get there late. Your manager yells at you. Black spit flies out of his lips and hits you on the face as he does and you sit there and take it.

Your abuse is special. It was made for you. Only you.

You get home. You watch the news. Another terrorist attack. PWT. Met Gala. Climate change. Silph Co coming back. Kanto bill even lower. Unova pyramid found. Unrest. The world is getting worse and you can't do anything about it. How could you? It's like the world was designed to make everyone so miserable they just have to sit there and take it. Like how your boss calls you all family; it's just a tactic to make sure you put up with all sorts of degrading shit.

The man in the corner of your kitchen stares at you and you try not to look at him. He makes you cry.

You wake up. Your hands are rough. Memories come back. Alarm. You're late for work you drive very fast to get there and you rear end some bitch on the highway. Hit and run but it's fine, she'll never catch you. Dog eat dog world out there. Manager yells at you. His jaw snaps off halfway through, his tongue kind of uselessly flopping around the gory, chunky black mess where it used to be. He sounds like someone shoved a fistful of organs down his throat but you know he's still screaming at you.

Home. News. Unrest. Terrorist attack. Economy in shambles. Mundanity. Wealthy people flaunt it in your face. The man in the kitchen takes a step closer and you scream and cry under your couch. No he doesn't. That would be something new. Something interesting. You don't get that luxury. Climate change. Sky blotted with ash. Mt. Silver erupts. PWT. Your Cleffa dies that night. You take her to the Pokemon Center. You can't afford to keep her ashes.

stop it. stop it stop it stop it. i want to wake up. why? how can you do this?!

You think this is me?

it could only be you.

Not every bad thing in the universe is my fault.

Wake. Hands are rotting stumps. Bone pokes out. Drive to work. Your eyes are falling out. Stagger towards your boss an hour late. He's a pile of ash and meat on the ground squealing hateful slurs at you. Ignore him. You run someone over on the way home. Don't bother stopping. Freight truck was filled with bodies today.

These things would scare a human, wouldn't they? Do they scare you, Worm Our God, who is so used to seeing blood and death?

No, they don't, do they?

That's why you realize how horrifying it is.

You wake up again in bed as your alarm blares. You lazily slap it and roll out of bed. Somehow, between the first paragraph and now, it's been fifteen years. You stagger to work. You barely feel alive. Your life is a haze of monochrome mundanity and hope forever dangled out of reach. The news talks of change. Worms flying overhead and breathing life back into the oceans. Well isn't that wonderful.

In retaliation, oil companies jack up prices the next day to compete. Can't let that thing interfere with profits. It brings back a new species, almost in retaliation. That's fine; the next day eggs cost twelve dollars everywhere.

Fuck.

Sometimes you think about getting another Pokemon, then you realize you can't afford it, and you watch the PWT again. You see people competing from all over the world; the people who've gotten lucky enough to steal the eyes of the spotlight. That's the lie everyone always says: anyone can be that great, but they're liars, aren't they? You have to know people to be someone.

Are you even real, then, if you could be removed from the world and no one would ever know the difference?

You wake up again. Your alarm is making noise and you turn it off. You go to get ready for work and your front door is gone. All the windows in your apartment are gone. You realize it makes sense. You were never going to survive for very long anyway, not with the world becoming like it is. Not with nobodies like you, of whom there are billion, being overshadowed by the ones that really matter. Taller flowers get the Light you so desperately crave.

You aren't strong enough to thrive in the Dark. To grab a knife and cut their stems down and take their place in the Light.

You sit down in front of the TV and you watch as it all falls apart around you. Black mist seeps around the floor and swirls like a fog machine. You stare at the TV. The man in the corner watches you. There's no point. There never was. Some people are meant to make history and some are meant to fill the numbers of the lives they change. You are a number filler. That's all you'll ever be.

You realize you are not special. You have struggled into this existence and you will now slip silently out of it. This is everyone's experience, Eternatus. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter.

You're everyone. And everyone is you.

You think about going somewhere. Somewhere faraway where the world can't catch up, as the things that supposedly make you unique peel away bit by bit. Your laugh. Your memories. Your personality. All of it crushed away by a mind that doesn't hate you... but you just aren't important enough to be worth consideration.

That's the real rub. You didn't do anything. You just have to suffer the crime of being so missable.

You sit alone in darkness and the world forgets you.

god, what's the point?

I don't think there is one.

i have to help them. when i wake up i have to help them.

I don't think you can.

i'm eternatus. i can do anything.

Then wake up.

I--

Then save them.

...

I ...

... ... I know. It's okay. I know.

#dreameat #∞ ic. #∞ ask. #horror tw #that's all i can tag this as. you look under that readmore at your own risk man #thank you cas for one of the most compelling asks i've ever received. i'm going to go sit down and not write ever again

[deadlycupid]

sea otter - taod college au

for @writerfae <3

song: freight train - Sara Jackson-Holman

Never in his life before had David been in a penthouse on top of the highest building of the city.

But here he was, wrapped up in a blanket and having the city view all to himself. As if he was a god looking over his creation.

Evan’s penthouse was huge, wide spaces and tall ceilings, but the more time David spent there the lonelier it felt.

There were three of them and the apartment seemed to swallow them all.

As much as David loved sitting on the fluffy carpet in the living room and watch over the busy streets, he could never imagine living here. Not even with all his friends. Not even if he invited the whole world.

He heard a rustle behind him but was too captivated by the gray clouds kissing the windows from time to time to turn around.

It was either Noah or Evan anyway.

Not long after the noise a rhythm was played on the piano. So it must have been Evan who kept him company now. David hadn’t talked much to him. He seemed nice, though, a little too confident in himself maybe. But David was hardly ever one to judge.

What David could say about Evan was that he was an amazing pianist. David had seen him play even the hardest of songs and the way he could play a melody out of whatever Noah threw at him was astonishing.

It was really mesmerizing listening to him. And now Evan started to play a quiet almost nostalgic melody. At the same time David heard footsteps behind him and then two hands softly touched his shoulders.

“Hey,” Noah whispered before sitting down behind him.

David allowed him to wrap his arms around him and hold him.

“As soon as the rain stops I’ll drive you home okay?”

David nodded his head. It didn’t matter but if rain meant spending more time with Noah then David hoped for a monsoon.

Evan kept playing the same melody over and over again. The rain hit the windows harder and rolled down in little rivers.

And before David knew it Noah was singing, the bitter-sweetest song David had ever heard.

“Grief is a freight train, oh what’s a little pain when you’ve got so much to love,”

Noah sang softly and lulled David in completely.

It was ridiculous but upon hearing the song David’s heart ached for something he had never felt and his body sought for something he had never known. He had to swallow a sob that tried to escape his throat. The song was beautiful but so sad.

For the chorus Evan joined his brother and they sang together in harmony.

“Close your eyes take to the sky like a big blue kite.”

Momentarily, David thought the rain was pouring down harder, as if the sky was getting sadder by listening to the brothers sing, or maybe they where the reason it was raining in the first place. Or maybe there was no difference between these two things.

Noah hugged David closer to his chest as he kept on singing the second verse on his own again.

“Love is a slow song, playing on the radio I know every word by heart.”

When the song ended David was nothing but a puddle of his own feelings inside Noah’s arms. The piano ceased and with the faded footsteps David knew that Evan had left the room too.

“That was beautiful.” David whispered.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

David shook his head and Noah nestled his nose against David’s neck, his lips gazed the skin only slightly.

“What if it never stops raining?” David asked, his voice far away.

“It will hardly rain that long.”

“No, but I mean what if it doesn’t stop raining today?”

Noah lifted his head. David felt his piercing eyes stare at him but he didn’t give him the satisfaction to turn around.

“What are you trying to tell me, tiger?” Noah’s voice, too, was soft now.

“I don’t know.” David sighed. “Just- Can you stay with me tonight? Here, at your place or mine. I don’t care, just… don’t go…“

“Oh, David.” Noah leaned his head against the younger’s. “Anything you want. You don’t even have to ask.”

David sighed, then he turned around and looked at Noah. It was hard to believe sometimes that Noah loved him.

Out of all people he could choose from he had chosen David, who had nothing to give except fir patience and his heart, that he had locked away so carefully.

But with every day, hour, minute, spent with Noah one of the locks broke and he got closer to ripping it out and handing it over to Noah entirely.

And it terrified him.

God, it did, but he couldn’t stop.

So instead of lingering on these terrifying feelings he leaned forward and pressed his lips on Noah’s.

Noah escaped a surprised sound before he caught himself and kissed David back. Let the younger guid them and take the lead and when David pushed him gently Noah laid flat on his back so that David could crawl over him.

Noah pulled away after awhile and tucked David’s brown hair behind his ear.

“What is going on with you today, carino?” Noah asked and David hated and loved it at the same time that Noah had picked up on the spanish pet names he used for him.

His cheeks flushed slightly as he leaned into Noah’s touch.

“I don’t know, just general melancholy.” David muttered and kissed Noah’s palm.

Noah hummed in response.

Noah’s hand slipped through David’s hair as the younger leaned down do cradled himself agains Noah’s chest.

Noah immediately wrapped his arm around him and David drew little patterns in the soft material of Noah’s shirt.

“Where do you want to go? My small downtown apartment or your comforting room?” Noah whispered.

Somewhere in the apartment a door closed gently, reminding David that they were not alone.

“When do you have class tomorrow?”

“Around noon.”

“Could we go back to my place then?” David asked tentatively. He craved the comfort of his bed, the knowledge that he was save there.

“Sure, anything you want.”

And if David spent the rest of the day curled up against Noah’s chest, watching movies then that was no one’s business, because sometimes all you needed was the comfort and care from a person you loved to get through the day. And sometimes doing that alone was enough.

taglist

@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @apeir0ph0bia @poetinprose

#writeblr #wip: the angels of death #college au #my writing #not proofread we die like noah #hope you guys like this little snippet #it’s been in my drafts for so long bc I forgot how I wanted to end it lmao

[bullshit-in-disguised]

How would you describe Cade's journey from his transition into a Transformer, let alone a Beastformer, knowing the power he holds now and the unimaginable dangers he is in, until his phase of accepting himself for who he has become?

Was his emotional state okay? Did he had deep depressing thoughts? Did he have to go through a new language exchange? And how was his first time trying to transform into a dragon, was it okay? Did he hurt his back or something? There's so many I'm curious to know

OH HONEY I CANT WAIT TO TELL THE SHIT THAT OLD BURGERS HAVE TO GO THROUGH.

I ALSO I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE ASK THESE QUESTIONS TO ME!!!!

It’s a lot to take in

Honestly it him hard as a freight train that he might never get a chance to live a normal human life.

Like imagine one day you just minding your own business and then all the sudden. You feel this unimaginable pain going on your body, as you see a piece of your flesh start to melt into metal without any warning. Everything feels heavy now, you can’t breathe, see or move as everything in your body starts to turn into metal and then you passed out unable to stay conscious as the last thing you see is your blood turning into a glowing green color burning you alive and then your out.

Your memories of your dying organic body are a blur but can recall the pain and the sounds your orgains literally melting off your own body. It’s like drowning in the sea of acid.

Then you wake up again, everything is now fuzzy as you try to get up…but everything feels so unfamiliar now. The new sensations hits like a truck as you notice there are now massive how big you are, your body is now made of metal, your mind is struggling to control these new feelings and the sensory overload your having it the systems in your mind and body. The worst part you wake up in a government facility, your rattled mind try to process what happened….but it can’t the newly feral instincts take over your frantic mind. Fillled with adrenaline you transformed for the first time into a beast. Attempting to claw your way out of the place. You were frantic as now your getting held down by metal beings that you can recognized but can’t.

But after being coaxed out of that frenzied state by your horrified daughter and your worried Spouse. You have a gradual realization of what just happened. You turned into a transformer…the same race as your spouse and the others…

In the nutshell that transformation was not easy for Cade’s mental health at that time.

His emotional state is a wreck, it takes him a long time to come to terms of what happened to his original human body and the consequences that follow. He actually suffers derealization episodes and depressive episodes because of how unfamiliar his cybertronian body is to him. Thankfully he does recover from it thanks to his family and professional help. He eventually sees and gets the best out of this situation, the idea of being a transformer is pretty cool to him now and feels more connected with the autobots. So accepting his new life is something that he has to come to terms with. But can’t help it, but to mourn the lost of his organic body.

Being strong enough to basically to kill a person with a single strike is terrifying. He often frets of the possibility of hurting Tessa or Izzy by accident. This doesn’t help that he has claws so that’s another worry. Cade is often struggling to get used to the new strength and power that he now possess. He’s often hesitates to hold humans, especially when he’s holding Tessa with the palm of his servo terrified of crushing her by accident. He often shakes with anxiety, Optimus often have to teach Cade for to control his strength so he won’t hurt anyone by accident.

Plus he has fire breath so that’s a bullshit issue that he has to deal with.

Being a beastformer is hard for Cade to get used to. He has to control his own emotions, keeping his instincts in check is extremely important to make sure he doesn’t lose it. AND SPEAKING ABOUT THE BEASTFORM-

When he transformed with into that his beast form without going crazy. He actually gets disoriented and dizzy for a while. Like having your body shift into a different form is pretty cool at first, but holy shit it was dizzy as hell. Transformation is second nature to a cybertronian, but for Cade it felt weird. To him having another form feels strange for him. It’s understandable that cybertronian have modes and he has to get used to that. But moving and talking as a giant scary metal lizard is actually really cool, especially with the distorted beast voice.

BUT- he can’t stay in beast form in long period of time in his first years as a transformer cause it actually affects his walking ability and cause back problems. Like imagine staying in that form for like weeks and then transform in your root form, at first you expect to walk normally but nope Cade just falls face flat on the floor. He couldn’t walk well and just crawls on fours. It turns out that it’s going to take a while for his systems to probably adjust to the mode shifts. It’s a bitch for to get used to. Cade has to use crutches and a walking cane after staying into beast form in long periods of time. Also it causes back problems for him to so often he transforms into beast form. Cade often stays in his berth room recovering. But thankfully he gets used to it, of the point that he no longer have to worry about his back problems and his ability to walk again.

(Fun fact Optimus would often carry Cade around bridal style, when he’s in that state. He always makes sure that his mate doesn’t get hurt-)

However when it comes to cybertronian language that’s a different story. He’s already built in with the power to understand and speak ancient cybertronian. When it comes learning modern cybertronian it’s basically taking a fucking language lesson and downloading Duolingo. Actually downloading data and looking up to the internet is tricky for Cade to do. But once he has the hang of it, he flows well. Thanks to his bond with OP, Cade definitely learned it pretty well but will confuse words, as he tends to mix up sentences at time.

(Shit that bilingual folk go through lmao-)

Honestly just everything is just new for Cade and honestly when he does comes to terms of his circumstances of being a Cybertronian….he’s content.

Like his life before meeting OP and the others was rough and had to make tough calls to keep himself and Tessa a float. Honestly he would miss the human things, that he used to do but that’s it…Cade has no other friends and family from his past to come back to aside from the autobots. He’s content to have this crazy new life, his daughter is safe, he has a lover who’s an Alien robot and his Family of other alien robots. He connects them more than humans and honestly he loves this life. He’s happy to find a purpose to continue to pursue his inventions, but now he can use that to help others in needs. He learned a lot from his time living with the bots. Cade honestly tends to walk forward and keep going forward the future.

In Cade’s mind it’s finding the good out of a shitty situation. Searching for that treasure in the trash…that’s his motto those words that comfort him, when things get crazy and bad for him.

So yeah Cade is not going to have a good time but hey as long he’s with his loved ones.

#transformers #maccadam #bayverse au #transformers au #bayverse #cade yeager #requiemverse #cw body horror #body horror mention #long post #yeager program #ask

[tozettastone]

who are your da game protags / what are they like?

Oh I like to replay with different protagonists...

I admit my origins characters became kind of a wash? I didn't find the role-playing aspect of that game very compelling. But one of them at least: I had an Elissa Cousland with a two handed sword because there was some specific voice that didn't occur for the other backgrounds...? and I liked listening to her scream when the darkspawn popped out. She killed Cauthrien directly getting out of the estate (this was the hardest fight for me in the game because I had poor AOE but I like to think Elissa is just an ambulatory battering ram), and bullied Alistair into performing the rite with Morrigan. She came thiiiis close to not recruiting Nathaniel due to how his dad organised the murder of her whole family.

I'll put in a read more here to save your dash.

I did do a friendly/diplomatic/painfully earnest Hawke, though, because purple Hawke is very smug. It can be harder to raise points with some characters (Varric. It's Varric.) but also you don't have to put up with purple Hawke so. Pros and cons. I like to think of Marian as a hurt and resigned idealist who, unfortunately for her, feels very deeply. Romanced Isabela, and in my personal and permanent headcanon ran away with her to the sea. Kirkwall was a place where she was "trying to steer a sinking ship," but that really doesn't change the impact of the city on her! Being pirate scum is a hard life, too, but it's on a smaller scale, and Isabela makes, like, 89% of all difficult choices. Marian gets to switch her brain off and just do what she's told most of the time, nowadays. (I suspect this annoys Isabela, who is very interested in freedom and self-determination, but if nothing else it pays dividends when the ship gets attacked and Hawke is, like, right there, going from 0 to 100 on the murder scale in 0.2 seconds. And maybe Hawke will recover some, in a few years.)

I think this characterisation also makes sense with how protective Varric is over her in DA2 and DA:I. No, you can't talk to Marian. She's busy. Retired. Busy. Retired and busy!

DA:I... I have replayed DA:I with a lot of different characters, because it isn't the same six maps on repeat until i lose my mind, so this is ironically harder to answer. Initially, though, I went with playing a kossith/qunari and got sad when The Iron Bull was still way bigger. Why you gotta do me dirty like that, Bioware? Do you think players pick this race so they can NOT be the biggest character in every room? ;—;

But I liked playing a big horned bastard who turned out to be a mage instead of the more obvious big character-big sword dynamic. Unexpected. Also, should have gotten you a +2 on beating assailants with your staff or something. C'mon, she's like 8 feet tall, you know she hits like a freight train.

The first playthrough, I did a Sera romance! and while the duel in the Josie romance is also excellent, I basically have to roll a male character to avoid tripping and falling into a Sera romance now RIP. If I could write her voice (I cannot) I'd write Sera fic, she's so cute and, like... grating in interesting ways? And deceptively complex? The criminology grad urge to dissect her.

#ask #anon #dragon age #long post

[assbutt-writes]

A Heart Of Iron Chapter 34

Chapter below cut

Tony

Tony is back in the yellow void, the same figures of Loki, Odin, and Kosto there as always, but this time something’s different. The Loki figure isn’t plain yellow, more of a swirling yellow and red marble-like pattern, as if the red and yellow are fighting for dominance, and when he looks at it, his emotions feel like they’re at war with each other, intense hatred and overwhelming love both just beneath the surface, preventing each other from fully taking effect.

The Loki figure seems to be trying to talk to him, its face confused and frantic, but he can’t hear a word, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t quite manage to read its lips. Frustrated, he tries to move closer, but a yellow glow surrounds him and he finds that he can’t move his body, can’t even turn his head an inch. He struggles against it, but nothing works, and, as he watches, the yellow wins out in the Loki and the glow around him dies out, all of the love that he felt toward the image of the other man gone without a trace. He relaxes, back to the familiarity of the void that he’s seen every night that he’s been on the blue planet.

Tony woke up to the sound of heavy breathing, and looked over to see Kosto slumped over on the rock they used as a chair, sweat pouring down his face and a yellow glow emanating from his closed eyes. Tony blinked rapidly, confused at the strange light, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. Not seeming to notice him, Kosto stood up and started to gather some materials that they used for travel outside of the cave before muttering something about needing to gather some materials, and Tony shook off his confusion before getting back to work on the harness for his pendant.

It was supposed to fit into the chest piece of his suit where the arc reactor was supposed to fit, and if everything worked out, he would be able to use his repulsors to create portals along with propelling himself through the air. It was coming along nicely, with one successful portal attempt. Well, semi-successful. It did end up creating a portal to a world filled with an endless sea of what looked like lava that started to pour into their world before he managed to close it.

Tony was trying to install his first attempt at a control console while singing under his breath when he felt a torrent of emotions and memories rush over him. It was so powerful that he dropped the tools he was holding in surprise as the flood of worry and love that was emanating from where the pendant was hanging around his neck hit him like a freight train, and he found himself scrambling to take it off. When he did, throwing it haphazardly onto the table, the feelings and memories stopped coming, but they didn’t leave him. Instead, he felt them slowly merge with his own, and he felt himself start to cry with pure emotion. He closed his eyes to try and stop the tears, and when he did, he saw the memories as if they were playing out in front of him, as if he was living them.

He wakes up in a hospital bed, his head throbbing with pain. He slowly looks around the room, his eyes landing on Steve standing over him with a harsh look on his face. He tries to sit up, but Steve pushes him back down.

"Loki, don't you dare," Steve says sternly, glaring at him. Loki? That’s not- "What the hell were you thinking? You stormed Valhalla, and when that didn't work, you stormed Asgard, and when that didn't work, you decided to literally fight yourself to death in the arena? Come on, Lokes, you know-"

What?

"Don’t you dare call me that,” Tony feels himself saying in Loki’s voice, his voice filled with venom. “And it's not my fault that I'm the only one who has tried anything to get Tony back! I'm sorry that I can't just go on with my daily life like he never fucking existed like all of you seem to be able to do."

Steve pulls back, a hurt look on his face, and Tony wants to apologize, to say he didn’t mean it, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t quite make the words leave his mouth.

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that," Steve says slowly. "You do know that we are all feeling the loss of Tony, we just have accepted the fact that we're not God. We can't bring him back, and, even if we could, who's to say that it would even be Tony that we bring back? I mean, you've seen the movies."

"Exactly! That's just fiction, but this is real life. If I could get into Valhalla, then I could figure out a way to bring him back, and then-" Loki says insistently, and it makes Tony’s heart break to hear Loki like this, and to know he caused it.

"And then what? This isn't what Tony would've wanted, you working yourself to death just because he's gone. We both know that he would've wanted you to-" Steve lectures.

"To- To what? Be happy? Live my life? How am I supposed to do that without him here? I- I don't- I can't-" Loki stammers, voice breaking. "I loved him, Steve. I loved him so much. I can't do this, any of this, without him."

"I know, Loki," Steve murmured softly, staring off into the distance. "I know."

Tony found himself on the floor crying, Kosto sitting on the floor next to him calling his name.

“-ony? Tony, can you hear me? What’s wrong?” Kosto said worriedly, and Tony looked up at him, tears flowing down his face.

“He loves me. He loves me,” Tony said, and a look of shock formed on Kosto’s face before he schooled it into one of confusion.

“Who?” he asked carefully.

“Loki. Loki loves me,” Tony sobbed, and a look of pure rage crossed over Kosto’s face, his eyes briefly glowing yellow, and the look was gone as quickly as it appeared, but not quickly enough.

“Why-” Kosto started, before Tony cut him off, a horrible realization coming to him that made him so, so mad.

“Because I know he does. Because that’s who he is, who we are, and I’m not going to let you and your whatever-it-is convince me otherwi-” Tony started, before a searing pain shot through his skull making him cry out, feeling like a million volts of electricity were shooting through a red-hot knife in his skull. The pain was so unbearable that it made his vision start to go dark, and the last thing he saw was a bright yellow glow coming from Kosto, the other man having a bored, exasperated look on his face, as if he had lived this moment a million times before.

“Go to sleep, Tony. We can talk about this in the morning,” he said, and then everything went dark.

#frostiron #loki #loki/tony #loki/tony stark #tony stark #tony/loki #ao3 #fanfiction #loki laufeyson

[ikatako38]

“Chasing Stars” by Alesso

Song Breakdown for TPWCH Part 1

THREE:

It was just like magic

When your hips came crashing

Not sure why the song refers to hips specifically, neither in the comparison nor just in general, but basically just basic fluffy carp about Three felt like his and Eight’s first meeting was special.

There were fires burning, and my hands learning

“Fires burning” represents all the destruction and unrest in the world when they meet—specifically NILS.

To paint with passion

“My hands learning to paint with passion” represents Eight “teaching” Three to open up to people and act with compassion.

It was planets meeting

I used to think this line was “It was planned, this meeting,” invoking destiny, but this works just as well in a completely different way. While Three and Eight may be from the same planet, they come from different “worlds.” Pearlina and Agent 24 represent the meeting of these two worlds.

It was synced up breathing

This alludes to something that technically won’t be revealed until Part 2, but it has to do with a special bond Three and Eight have.

There were angels calling and more free falling

Than I believed in

“More free-falling than I believed in” describes how the world is falling apart during the Splatfest, in a way Three never believed was possible before.

Yeah

Memories like freight trains hit me

This one’s pretty clear: as they get triggered in his dreams or throughout the day, Three’s bad memories are hitting him with all the force of a freight train and sending his life off the rails.

I replay to keep you with me

At the same time, Three tries to remember the good memories he had with Eight before he sent him away.

Better to have had than not at all

Another lyric I’ve been singing wrong for months. I used to think that it was “Better to have had them not at all,” but this actually means the opposite! I think the real lyrics are actually a better reflection of Three’s situation because he doesn’t regret the time he spent with Eight and looks back on it fondly.

We were chasing stars

Both are looking for some sort of Promised Land where they can be at peace and have people to love them, but, just like the stars, that dream is out of reach.

Across the county lines

More like the borders between Inkopolis and the Octarian Domes—or perhaps Takosula.

Two imperfect pieces

Three and Eight are certainly far from perfect, but they also each feel somewhat incomplete in different ways. Eight wishes he could remember more of his past, while Theee wishes he could forget it. When they’re with each other, their incomplete pieces fit together to make a complete whole.

With our fingers intertwined

More is intertwined between Three and Eight than just their fingers—their destinies, their memories, and their struggles are all interwoven.

And I would do it all again

Despite the pain they both feel at the end of Part 1, neither of them regret the time they spent together. In fact, they wish it could have been longer.

Knowing I'd be left behind

In the end, Three gets left behind as he sends Eight away. He’s fully aware of the pain this will cause him but feels he has to do this to protect Eight

Oh, what a time

Back when you were mine

As mentioned, they both look back fondly on their time together.

EIGHT:

Oh, I’m hurting

But I'm still certain

That when the pain comes back in waves

Yeah, it was worth it

Eight feels somewhat betrayed by Three’s sending him away, but despite the pain Eight decides it was worth trusting him in order to have the experiences they had together.

Yeah

Memories like freight trains hit me

Three isn’t the only one whose memories are constantly messing with his life. Eight has to fight against PTSD of the Deep Sea Metro and try to make sense of his mysterious Mem Cake memories.

I replay to keep you with me

At the same time, Eight tries to remember the good memories he had with Three before he was sent away

Better to have had than not at all

Eight doesn’t regret the time he spent with Three.

We were chasing stars

Across the county lines

Two imperfect pieces

With our fingers intertwined

And I would do it all again

Knowing I'd be left behind

Oh, what a time

Back when you were mine

Back when you were mine

Oh, we were chasing stars

THREE:

Oh, we were chasing stars

We were chasing stars

Across the county line

EIGHT:

Two imperfect pieces

With our fingers intertwined

BOTH:

And I would do it all again

Knowing I'd be left behind

Oh, what a time

Back when you were mine (when you were mine)

Back when you were mine

(Oh, when you were)

Back when you were mine

(Oh, we were chasing stars)

(Oh, we were chasing stars)

Back when you were mine

#splatoon #this place we called home #tpwch official music #as promised several months ago #Spotify

[system-of-a-feather]

#mcyt #not trauma related #meme #shitpost #shit post #I seriously did not know where it came from #or why it was so popular #but suddenly it was everywhere #and I just felt confused as fuck #it came up in a DID discord server and I HAD to ask for context from the people that like #knew what the fuck was going on and how it became a huge thing #I still don't know #I'm an outsider that doesn't understand it #or why there are so many introjects #and I still don't tbh #I still don't #not judging people with mcyt introjects or anything #i just like #don't know where MCYT came from #I feel like I was hit by a freight train out at sea #or I was just chilling at the beach #zoned out #and found myself surrounded by sharks