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dmclemblems · 2 years

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I do feel kinda bitter over AG though because of all those things you mentioned since i cant look at AM the same way for not having a lot of those things

I can get that. I feel a little similarly. Overall I like AM more because it really delved into Dimitri’s trauma, but AG definitely handled the Blue Lions’ friendships better. What I didn’t like about AM’s characterizations for Sylvain and Felix in AM is that despite five years having passed, they didn’t mature nearly as much as they should have. In comparison, AG was only two years of a timeskip and it felt a lot more fleshed out with their characters. Ingrid was on a lesser scale, but she definitely got the better end of characterization in AG.

In part I think this is also because the writers have had time to decide on some things. When they made Houses, it was a new game. With Hopes they were working with pre-existing characters, so it was probably a lot easier to flesh them out and change their behavior. It just feels weird to look back at Sylvain from a five year skip and see that he hardly changed, but with a two year skip in an AU he’s a much more mature and composed version of himself.

AG also gives us the possibility of having Rodrigue to the end, and I’m wondering if that was a decision the writers made because they saw how he was received and decided to swap his position in the story with Gilbert who was a less popular character. Having the possibility of losing him is like a callback to AM, but we at least have the option this time. There’s also the chance for us to get supports for him with the characters that needed to be more fleshed out in their relationships with him.

Granted, in AM Rodrigue died because that was the final nail in the coffin for Dimitri’s mental state. He needed to have that moment where he gave up entirely and stopped caring about everything, planning to just go out and kill Edelgard or die trying. Byleth was also able to prevent it because they spoke with Rodrigue the night prior and could bring Dimitri to his senses through what they learned when speaking with Rodrigue. In that sense I think it was too important of a scene to leave out, because if not Rodrigue, I don’t believe any other death could have impacted his story to reach that point.

For example, in Ailell Dimitri behaves the same way to everyone around him. When they meet up with Rodrigue, that’s when his manner of speech starts to waver and he is, for the first time in five years, scolded and essentially told to shut up and listen. With Rodrigue being, as Dimitri literally says pre-skip, a second father to him, he didn’t treat that situation as he would have with anyone else, ending it with referring to Rodrigue as his friend (which is more than he did for anyone else by that point, too paranoid and being unconvinced that everyone wasn’t his enemy. The one person he knew would never be his enemy was Rodrigue).

Since the stories are vastly different in both games I do get why things were altered. Going back to AM will just be unfortunate that Rodrigue fans can no longer use him as a playable unit or get all the character lore we got in AG (which was a whole lot tbh for the parent generation, as well as his relationships with the people around him). We also have things like Gilbert coming back to the Kingdom much sooner and thus mending his family relationships, bringing back the old Gustave who is fiercely protective of his family to the point he won’t tolerate any enemy laying a single finger on his daughter and brother. I love seeing him in SB as an enemy and getting to see how aggressive he really is when someone tries to harm his family. To me that shows us who he used to be before Duscur.

I guess in the sense of like, for the sake of fanfics I’ll probably love keeping both stories in mind and mixing the two for things like characterization. Like I said, I understand that they were reusing already established characters so it was much easier to create new situations and improve the characters (to which tbh I’d say was usually hit or miss, like how I can’t even begin to imagine what they were thinking when writing Caspar for Hopes but they did so, so good writing for Lorenz).

Really I guess it’s just kind of what happens when they use existing characters and improve upon them when the original story was already so good. I’m going to hate going back and not having all the Rodrigue content because he’s one of my favorite characters in the franchise itself. On the other hand I’ll like returning to all the sides of Dimtri’s character, because having that aspect of such severe mental illness I think is really important to use in media, particularly in our modern day where that’s a big and largely important topic in our society. While I’d say they also made the attempt with Takumi in Fates, at this point Fates is not a very well loved game and due to how it was handled overall, I think a lot of the attempt at mental illness and suicidal behavior went over people’s heads due to of how poorly the rest of the game was received by players (and admittedly the writing wasn’t nearly as clear with Takumi as it was with Dimitri).

Houses kind of has the vibes of like... a whole lot of “what if” situations that AG used to show the answers of that. SB is more of like... another rendition of Edelgard’s story with not much changed except that we get to actually fight Thales instead of the characters defeating TWS post game. GW is the total opposite of VW, so rather than creating it as a “what if” timeline like AG it’s more of a “what if they went the opposite path they took in VW”. AG focuses more on the possibilities that existed in AM and builds upon those, rather than SB’s choice of the same route but handled differently and GW’s choice of seeing what it would look like if VW was turned on its head (no upside pun intended...).

Technically it’s not bad in and of itself for them to have written SB and GW in those ways, and that’s not to say AG is just absolutely the best because of it. It comes down to personal preference and I saw a lot of people saying the same thing that they see SB as more of a retelling but altered CF, which at that point it’s up to the individual if they prefer the new or the old. GW’s plot in and of itself wasn’t an issue, but it was the treatment of its characters and how the plot wasn’t focused on the characters but instead focused on altering its characters to the plot instead of the characters being what made the plot (ex. AM being written to follow Dimitri, not Dimitri written to follow AM).

Following that thought too, AG follows the formula of its characters being the story itself because in SB and GW, the characters go here and there and everywhere and they’re dragged along. In AG if you try to suggest that you go west during a civil conflict, you’re basically told no, we can’t afford to do that and have to stay here where we already are to deal with this problem and we can head west after that. You’re in one place and kept in that place until the conflict is resolved, rather than being pulled west and then having to go back to where you already were.

In some ways I guess you could say AG was written too well, because now when we go back to AM we’re missing all those improvements on the writing. I do prefer chapter 19 to chapter, what is it, 9 or 10? with the way Claude allied with Dimitri because it felt way more natural in AM and was rooted in a trust that was forcibly finnicky in AG because they were trying to sneak in concepts of GW Claude and how he wasn’t someone people ordinarily trusted. Instead of writing him as just a different path Claude, they tried to keep aspects of him that applied to very different routes and it wound up feeling wonky. AM was much more rewarding, and even more so because Gronder had already happened. Comparably, AG Dimitri and Claude had not even fought each other and yet everyone except Dimitri (and presumably Seteth and Rhea based on the dialogue when they all met up) was highly distrusting of him and treating him like he was some infamous slimy plotter who was going to jeopardize something. It was very forced and kept trying to nudge at GW/SB Claude, so for me that was extremely awkward to see considering in AM, nobody really highly distrusted Claude when he asked for aid. They’d never even fought or had problems in AG, but for some reason most of the cast didn’t want to trust him.

Regarding Thales though, for sure AG did handle it way better. I don’t really like Edelgard’s story in the second half of AG since I prefer AM’s ending for Edelgard (and it makes more sense because she was hellbent on fighting to the end, even if her path killed her. Dimitri gave her a final chance to end it alive, but she willingly chose her death and for her that could’ve been a matter of pride which is more in line with her character, but AG took her character away entirely so that just wasn’t a possibility). Thales imo should’ve been the final boss in AM too, having escaped as Arundel in chapter 19 and fighting the Kingdom later on. Considering how deeply rooted in Dimitri’s entire backstory Thales is, it’s kind of insane to me that he wasn’t the final boss. He has the least connection to Claude but is the second to final boss in VW instead.

For me the perfect ending would’ve been like... a mix between the two, where Dimitri had to come to his senses because Rodrigue almost died but he survives just barely. Perhaps he can’t fight for the rest of the war, thus rendering him unplayable as a unit and making sense as to why he couldn’t be playable from beginning to end. Sylvain, Ingrid and Felix would have grown into who they became in AG when you get to the five year timeskip in AM. Obviously Dedue would keep his story about saving Dimitri with others from Duscur, but then maybe soldiers from Duscur continue to fight with the Kingdom army the way they do in AG. We’d have AM’s version of the Alliance getting the Kindgom’s aid, and we’d have Thales escape as Arundel but fight the combined armies later on. Maybe while they were allied, the Kingdom gets news that people from the Alliance, maybe even Holst, located TWS’ base (since they’re near Goneril territory I think?). Since they were basically one big army, Dimitri could defeat Edelgard as we know their battle to happen in AM, but then they could travel to the Alliance territories with the war being over now and from there, fight Thales and have Dimitri learn the truth. Maybe Rodrigue joins as an NPC in the final battle so that he can be present against Thales, even if he’s not fully recovered because he feels he has to be there since it’s the battle for the truth that he’s been waiting on since he lost his best friend and son.

Whether or not Nemesis would be at the very very end idk, but I think Thales at least should’ve been the final or second to final boss like how he was the latter for VW. I think it would also be nice if Claude hadn’t left right away and instead joined the joint armies, even if just as an NPC since in this case you’d be traveling through the Alliance to fight TWS, and since they’re in Alliance territory I think it would make sense for the Alliance to be much more invested in that fight. It would give Claude the truth he’d be seeking in VW, thus giving a nod to his story in his route, and would give Dimitri and everyone else the truth about Duscur. It would be a complete story imo that way with all loose ends tied up, and if they had Duscur soldiers show up with Dedue in the timeskip then they’d be there too maybe as some NPCs in the final battle, so their story would be concluded too with the truth proving their innocence. Imo it would be a perfect way to resolve the whole Duscur storyline.

I know they were probably going for an imperfect ending in AM in the sense that we can’t have everything, but the only problem with the way they wrote that out was that Duscur was the focal point of AM. At the very least I think they should’ve tied up that entire story from beginning to end, concluding it with everyone learning the truth and Faerghus finally being able to heal when the truth gets around that Duscur’s people didn’t kill their king. Not only do the characters we’re familiar with have resolution, but the actual story we’ve followed right from the start is finished in full.

The problem with ending it with Edelgard for AM is that Edelgard... wasn’t really the true enemy of AM as a route. She was Dimitri’s personal enemy and conflict and he would have to fight her if he was going to end her war, but with the way the actual plot goes, Edelgard should have been AM’s penultimate battle, exactly like how Dimitri is CF’s penultimate battle before she reaches her actual enemy and goal, Rhea. Edelgard’s war was most specifically against Rhea, thus why her route made Rhea the final battle and not Dimtiri. AM should’ve followed that same formula, because Edelgard’s overall gripes weren’t Dimitri himself. Similarly, Dimitri’s story and the plot itself was centered around Duscur and the truth, which defeating Edelgard doesn’t solve a single part of. It concludes Dimitri’s personal arc with his step sister, but it resolves absolutely none of the plot of AM. While it resolves a character arc within the plot, the plot itself remains unfinished.

Like I said, I get the whole idea that we can’t get a perfect ending, but in this situation I don’t think it’s even about a “perfect” ending anymore. You could argue that this ending still should be present even if Rodrigue still died. AG is in a better position for the plot because it actually thoroughly explores the true plot of Dimitri’s background as a character. AM is a character centric ending, but AG is a plot centric ending, and I hate that we don’t get both in either of them. We either get a very good character heavy story, or we don’t get the full depth of the characters (ex Dimitri’s mental state not really being a problem in AG and is only sometimes given a nod to) and have a completed plot.

Hence, I feel like for fic’s sake and headcanon’s sake I like to think there’s more to the point of the Alliance fighting alongside the Kingdom as one army and that the plot related final battle would be against at least Thales if not Nemesis (since Nemesis himself isn’t relevant to AM’s plot or any of the characters, but Thales is deeply involved in multiple characters’ lives). Also, it could maybe give resolution to Dimitri’s personal story with Edelgard, learning that Arundel was killed and that was why he stopped donating, and realizing why Edelgard changed so much post her stay in the Kingdom. Just a final battle against Thales alone would conclude both the story and character plots and make a full, true ending. AG technically has a full, true ending to its story since Edelgard wasn’t in a position to continue her war, so whether she lived or died becomes irrelevant at that point since what happened to her, whether we enjoyed that aspect or not, did resolve that particular conflict. In that sense, yeah, AG solved pretty much everything in one shot.

So yeah, I totally get why you feel bitter about it. AG had an actually conclusive plot while AM was just left hanging as an incomplete story. CF was “complete”, i.e. TWS was defeated post game, and VW was a fully complete story. Instead in Hopes, GW is left a huge question mark and incomplete and SB is still basically complete unless Edelgard continued her war for conquest, so that one is more like... complete(?), with that question mark being necessary. AG is basically complete, since what happens to Edelgard doesn’t really affect the plot which was finished.

Considering TWS is the center of AM’s entire backstory and Dimitri’s most intense trauma, you’d think that would be much more important to the story in AM and that Edelgard wouldn’t be the end of the game. I wish they were still making DLC or updates or something for Houses, because it would be so great if they added that as a late attachment to AM (like how, if you know Tales of Graces, the game ended up releasing and then re-releasing with an entire post game arc added, though in that case it was more of a remake because it was titled differently, adding “F” to the end of the title to indicate there was an addition to the game and changes made/added).

#Three Hopes Spoilers #sorry this kind of turned into a whole analysis of like...#why AG is a complete story and why AM is not #and how that can absolutely make AM fans a little upset at how good but incomplete it was #compared to AG which was a great story and also a completed plot #I love them both but it's still gonna be a bummer for me as a huge Rodrigue fan to go back to AM and have less content of him #Felix's story was also kinda left incomplete in AM but was handled far better in AG whether Rodrigue survives or not #Sylvain's story got more substance both with his family and Sreng in AG and in AM that's pretty much loose particles in the air #technically Sylvain probably lived with Miklan again and if he didn't he at the very least had Miklan in his life again #and Sreng was a topic more often and even given a paralogue while in AM it's just kinda... a background ''this happens sometimes''#both of those aspects were extremely helpful for Sylvain as a character but he was given literally nothing in the timeskip #his substance is his supports and in the main game he has almost nothing that he didn't already have pre-skip #I feel like we sacrificed a lot by making AM so heavy on Dimitri's conflicts with Edelgard bc like #it's fine that the story centered around HIM since he's the lord of the route #but the overall conflict ending with her was only a resolution to a character arc and not the actual plot #so AM is just kind of sitting there like... if you happen to have Hapi she just happened to have defeated TWS post game #while CF did that too it happens no matter what but AM relies on a side character being alive and present for it to happen #meaning before the DLC there was no indication of TWS being stamped out after Thales died #AM is definitely a great route but its actual plot was a disaster. CF had a messy plot with a disaster incomplete ending #VW and SS had complete stories and full character arcs so I don't feel like GW really hampers VW #SB could be seen as a more complete and better version of CF (especially since it's LONGER than CF just for starters alone)#so I wouldn't be surprised if CF/SB fans felt similarly about SB being more complete like how AG seems to feel for AM lovers #it's kind of just a problem with Houses in general that a lot of story threads were left unfinished #DCE Ask

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mallo-person · 1 year

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AHWIEHHH GUYES ;+;

ANY GOOD SOURCES FOR DIFFRENT "WHO" JAPANESE PARTICALES AND WHAT THEY ARE USED FOR??

PLEASE

I AM CONFUSED BY THE VIDEO IM WATCHING :[

#japanese learning #♣️.txt #aaaaa #they just left off at 'oh btw there are diffeent who particles for diffrent topics" and then just-- went to 'mo'???

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auroral-melody · 1 year

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when i talk to people who arent physicists and they’re like “omg you can do quantum physics that’s so cool!!!”

and im just kinda here like imma be honest i think it’s kinda boring but you know what makes me go crazy insane? hydrostatic equilibrium differential equation models of stars

#can you tell i'm not a quantum and particle physicist lmfao #(currently taking more quantum notes and it's just like...fine...but i enjoyed theoretical mechanics a lot more tbh)#(read: i prefer f=ma on steroids to quantum operators)#my posts #(that said particle physics of dark matter was a pretty cool project to work on)#and yes i know this reads as a humblebrag #1) it's my blog and i am actually proud of myself for how far ive come #2) how do i express the concept of 'i genuinely dont find this high-level topic that interesting' in another way. help #like me n someone arguing about how i think real analysis is tedious

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235uranium · 7 months

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my honest take is that if you can't do the actual math you have no business bringing up quantum mechanics in a serious discussion

#☢️.txt #it is incredibly fucking hard to explain quantum mechanics even if you know how to do the math #obviously like. have fun read about it! ask questions! use it in stories!#but dont use it as an actual philosophical argument or gotcha in a conversation bc. you are probably misunderstanding something #there are literal physics phds who dont understand quantum mechanics well. its a hard topic! its difficult!#it uses a lot of extremely complicated math and it uses it in EXTREMELY messy ways!#anyways i will tell you that quantum mechanics doesnt say that humans observing things has inherently effected the universe #superposition is actually a pretty like. mundane and normal thing in physics #its just a property of the math. you experience it daily with soundwaves #superposition is why you can hear multiple sounds without them becoming completely unintelligible #like its cool! but its not mystical. its just how certain types of equations behave #also when we say we cant see smth as a particle and a wave at the same time we're just saying you can only measure one at a time #its not.... THAT weird when you think about it. in order to take a measurement of a photon you need to have a photon

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spicysucculentz · 2 years

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🚨newest hyperfixation alert🚨

large hadron collider!!!

#spicy speaks #my dad recommended it to me as a fun topic and now I’ve become immersed #i do not understand it in the slightest #but it still fascinates me #i cant even grasp particle colliders #or particle accelerators #but #so cool???#it’s 17 mile long ring underground outside Geneva #17 miles!!!!#from what I grasp magnets play a very large role in it #i literally don’t understand it #but it’s still interesting and I’ve been staring at pics of it all day #I’ve got some educational videos about it lined up to watch while I eat breakfast tomorrow #hyperfixation #just neurodivergent things

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vahanians · 2 years

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oh yeah its all coming togetherrrr

#brain hurty #hale studies #also i think ive cracked the topic/subject/object particles

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learning-k0rean · 2 years

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N{*c}은 • N{*v}는

[...·eun] • [...·neun]

(omittable in spoken Korean) (topic marker; general information, description; generally preceding static verbs; indicates that the important information comes after the particle) as for N, when it comes to N

If N ends with a consonant ➡ 은 suffixe

Else ➡ 이 suffixe

#은 #eun #는 #neun #topic marker #grammar: particles #grammar: all #grammar: omittable #as for #when it comes to

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ventique18 · 5 months

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~ Malleus and his self-expression in the Japanese language ~

Just a few random things that Malleus enthusiasts might find interesting...

As we're probably aware of by now, the English version is not exactly a 1-1 translation of the Japanese version. This is unavoidable, as a lot of culture nuances just can't be faithfully expressed without having to explain them in detail like this. One of those is Malleus' way of talking. He's often presented in English as talking as if he woke up straight from the Victorian era; and while that's also true in Japanese as he talks somewhat formally, there's something about his self-expression that wasn't carried over in the English version: in that he speaks in a masculine way.

In Japanese, there are typically three ways that a person can express themselves through speech: feminine, gender-neutral, and masculine. There's also varying degrees of these three depending on "bluntness" or "softness"-- and when you think mega blunt, you can imagine Leona's way of speaking that's actually accurate to how he physically acts. The thing is, Malleus also practically talks like that; just removing some pronouns and particles that would come off as rude.

Basically, he talks in an assertive, masculine way while actively avoiding mansplaining superiority to his conversation partners, which Leona and a few others tend to do.

Another interesting thing to point out is what some of you might have noticed in the audio: his preference of using "Boku" as a personal pronoun. Boku is one of the pronouns used by masculine people. While "Ore", which Leona uses, is more masculine, it's not Malleus' preference as it comes off as a lot more aggressive while Boku is more polite. This is why Ore is also frequently used by most men (people can swap pronouns depending on the situation!) when they're in casual situations; because it gives off a message that they do not appreciate being submissive among peers. If you've noticed, Ace, angry Deuce, and most of the third years use Ore as their pronoun.

The last mentioned point is important, because you might question why doesn't Malleus use Ore as his pronoun when he's literally higher ranking/more important than anyone else in the school? Because it's more formal than Ore, and this is just my personal conjecture, but it gives off a mighty message that he doesn't even need words or pronouns to assert how naturally dominant he is.

But if he likes being formal that much, why doesn't he just use the very formal pronoun "Watashi", like the headmage Crowley? Because, going back to the very first point, Boku suggests masculinity while Watashi does not. He also actually doesn't structure his sentence in an overly formal way like the headmage because doing so would omit the air of masculinity which he rather prefers.

So yeah, that's just an interesting topic I thought some would be curious about. The first time I heard him, I also didn't expect he'd express himself in an assertive way because of the beautiful elegance he always carries with him. Actually, this makes me appreciate Twst more; because it doesn't really conform to societal norms--that yes, a man can wear makeup and heels and it's not anyone's business how he decides to express himself.

Some other non-Malleus notes: this topic is incredibly nuanced and vast. There's no hard rule for this and it really depends on the individual to mix and match depending on how they want to express themselves. For example, Furina as the Hydro Archon is feminine but uses Boku as her pronoun as a message that she is not to be looked down on by men. This is interesting to me, as rather than associating pronouns to gender like in English, Japanese pronouns can carry other messages depending on the person's intent. That's why we prefer to call it masculinity or femininity, as it really is more of a self-expression rather than gender identity. There are actually other more self-expression patterns outside masculine-feminine-neutral!

#twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia

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starrystvdy · 3 months

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25.01.24

aand thats a wrap on winter term! i'm pretty sure i failed the quantum mech exam so i will be coming back to it sooner or later, but i'm glad to be moving on to new topics for now. or rather topic singular, since this term i have three different particle physics modules and my (particle) project to work on. looks like i'll be living and breathing particles for the foreseeable, figuratively and of course literally :)

#studyblr #studyspo #uniblr #physicsblr #mystuff #t.jpg

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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months

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Unpunishable (Shang Tsung x F!Reader)

a/n: no one asked for this, but hey, i've been in love with that soul stealing stink-man, i had to finally write something for him. this one is specifically MK1 story mode adjacent, but i do want to write more (for MK11 and the movie), Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (kinda i guess), Captivity, playing fast and loose with the canon, Kinda Soft Shang?, Reader is a Blood Mage (nothing too serious tho)

Summary: After you and your friends raid Shang Tsung's laboratory, you get caught and kept captive by the Sorcerer himself.

Is it wrong to want more?

That was the thought plaguing you from the beginning of your training at the Wu-Shi temple. Blood magic was frowned upon in Outworld. For you to even cross the threshold of the realm, there had been some serious negotiations set in place. Still, the Fire God has managed to convince Empress Sindel of your assets as a healer.

And, you were a curious thing, after all. Humans were not born with magic in Earthrealm, it could only be bestowed by a God. Which is why your natural talent at commanding blood, both yours, and later someone else's, was a strange sight indeed. Strange enough to stir the interest of Outworld's nobility, granting you a safe passage to the tournament with your training companions.

Which is how you landed here. Between helping Raiden navigate the Tournament, through the secret mission on behalf of Liu Kang, and right up to now. As you sit, poised like a decorative doll, hands locked behind your back, intricate, golden cuffs digging into the skin of your wrists. There are piles upon piles of golden coins surrounding you, gold trickles down the walls in long smears of paint, golden dust stains your skin. A kink forms deep within your spine, from the uncomfortable position you have been put in.

And then, there's the deep, bleeding cut, stretching the expanse of your thigh. It was a stupid idea, tagging along for the mission to find Shang Tsung, and bring him to Liu Kang for questioning. You shouldn't have followed your friends into that one. Even more idiotic, was your short stand against Princess Mileena, as her Tarkat affliction took control of her. The fight, if you could even call it that, ended with you gaining a black eye and an awful, ugly cut, made by Princess's knives.

You shift in your position, trying to relieve some of the discomfort. Instead, the thick fabric of your pants slides on the wound, making you wince in pain. Flexing your fingers behind your back, you try to focus on the constant throbbing in your leg. If the traditional means of escape have been taken from you, perhaps a more finessed touch would be efficient.

Blood trickles on your skin, and every fiber of your being zeros in on the feeling. Sweat forms on your forehead, as you slowly force the stream to run upwards, towards your hip, and around your back. Your fingers flex into intricate positions, a thin line of your own blood reaches your wrist.

You have never tried this trick with your magic, all your life dedicating your gift to the art of healing. Dealing with the blood of other people, stopping, pushing, extracting, those were the things you were good at. Solidifying your own plasma, so it can cut through metal cuffs, was an entirely different topic.

But you have to escape. You have to. There's no telling what will happen to you, should you remain in this prison. Surrounded by gold and jewels, like some sort of perverted spoil of war. You valued yourself too much, to allow that. And, most importantly, your friends needed help. The intel you've gathered while being stuck in this wretched place wasn't much, but it was something, which in turn was enough to keep fighting.

Breathing becomes a hassle. You've already exerted far too much of your power, trying to extract from your bleeding thigh, and your hands shake behind your back, as you visualize particles sticking together, forming something solid, something that would free you of this prison. The liquid curling around your wrist shifts, an outer layer forming around it. All you've managed to achieve, is a sort of coagulated jelly, sticking to your skin.

"Your dedication to freedom in commandable." a familiar, male voice surrounds you, and you whip around, chain jingling at the sudden movement.

There he stands, in all his glory. Your captor.

Shang Tsung stalks towards you, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans down, hair flowing past his shoulders and obscuring the two of you from the world in a thick, black curtain. He smells rich. Sandalwood and jasmine, mixed with a nauseating undertone of blood and rot, no doubt, a leftover from his laboratory. It forces you to reel your head back, to try and escape it, but your efforts are quickly destroyed, as the sorcerer closes in further.

"Your skill, however…" his dark eyes fly around your face, taking in your distressed expression with a cruel smile "Well, let's just say there's some room for improvement."

Your eyebrows crease, as he flashes you a grin, before straightening up to his full height, allowing you a moment of relief from his overpowering presence. The bloody clot you've managed to form around your wrist falls to the floor as soon as you lose focus, and silently, you mourn the feeling of blood sinking between golden coins, never to be recovered again. You couldn't even if you tried, not with the Outworld's Snake right in front of you, circling your body like a hawk ready to strike.

Suddenly, he crouches down, right beside your abused leg, your breath catching in your lungs at the sudden change. The way he moved never seized to amaze you, as much as you hated to admit it. There was grace burned into his very being, every step a slithery dance. It terrified you, rightfully so, but underneath something new was brewing. A feeling, which you could easily dismiss during the rush of fighting, was no longer satisfied with staying dormant.

There was a strange pull between the two of you, like two magnets on the opposite sides of a table. Whenever your eyes met with the Sorcerer, you could feel something buried inside your soul start to wake. It felt so foreign, yet so very familiar at the same time, like a ghost of some ancient prophecy clawing at your mind.

Once you free yourself from this hellish predicament, you'll ask Liu Kang what is going on with you. He has to know, or at least, suspect something, and you knew very well, feelings like those could not be ignored. Too much was at stake, to keep secrets out of some misguided shame. That is, if you even make it out of here, because the man beside you suddenly pushes his robe outwards, producing a small box with a practiced flare, like a magician during one of his shows.

"Do not fret, Mortal" you're not sure if the "pet" name is a thinly veiled insult, or if it's just the way the Sorcerer speaks "This is simply something to heal your leg."

Now, your confusion must be palpable, because Shang Tsung's smile widens, as he takes in your face. Then, he laughs quietly to himself, barely above a whisper, and the hairs at the back of your neck stand straight at the sound.

"I don't want anything from you" it's a pathetic effort at staying defiant, and both of you know it.

Instead of entertaining your little outburst, the Sorcerer grabs your leg with his free hand. Immediately, you start to struggle, despite the sharp pain overtaking your senses, as his grip on you tightens. Then, you let out a sharp squeak, when the man's golden claws tear into the fabric of your pants just above the wound, and dangerously close to the apex of your thighs.

The wound looks back at you, swollen and bloody, and you swallow thickly, as blood flows from your face. You could treat it, successfully as well, if only your hands weren't currently bound behind your back, with very limited moving space. Shang Tsung opens the box with delicate fingers. There is some sort of salve packed inside, a rather large indent right in the middle proving it's been used quite extensively.

His hold on you becomes less of a grip, bordering almost on a soft caress, which brings an entire wave of concerning feelings to the surface of your mind. If he notices the way your cheeks flush, he says nothing, opting instead on dipping his fingers into the salve.

"This might hurt" he warns you, although there is not a single note of concern in his voice.

"What is that? Another Tarkat experiment?" you try to mask the shaking in your voice, as the thought of being experimented on genuinely frightens you.

Your leg twitches under his fingers, and he digs in deeper, turning to face you with an unexpected, serious expression. Again, you feel short of breath, as his dark eyes bear into yours with intensity you haven't yet experienced.

"I would never..." he cuts himself off.

The word, or rather, the tone in which he says it seems to startle you both. His eyebrows furrow in an expression of annoyance, or worry, you're not entirely sure, and he turns back towards your wound, his black hair shielding his face from your gaze. Was that repulsion, hidden within his voice? Your chest suddenly feels much too tight. Was the merciless Sorcerer disgusted by the prospect of conducting his inhumane experiments on you? You weren't sure if the sentiment warmed your heart… Or terrified you to the very core of your being.

Still, all your thoughts leave your brain, as soon as Shang Tsung places his fingers on your wound. At first, a cold feeling overtakes you, pain letting go for just a split second. Then, fire. White, hot, burning ache, seeping into your wound. It feels as if it reaches your bone marrow, and with a silent scream you fall on your back, writhing on the floor. Golden coins fly from under your feet, as you kick around, the golden chain tying your hands together strains, as you pull on it with all your might. Slowly, the pain fades, some sort of tight sensation pulling at the skin of your thigh.

And one more thing.

As you come down from the initial shock of the painful treatment, your brain registers something warm and firm, rubbing circles into your flesh. It takes you another while longer to realize it's Shang Tsung's hand, resting right above the wound, claws tapping on the inside of your leg. He watches you, as your breathing starts to slow, eyes following drops of sweat falling from your forehead and mingling with tears. Your lips parted, your eyelids flutter, and you let out a long sigh, finally being able to look down on your leg.

Where the wound once was, now, a long, pink scar shines in the light of the torches strung around the chamber. Shang Tsung closes the box, before hiding it amongst the many layers of his outfit. You half expect him to stand up and leave, but your hopes are squashed once again, as the man kneels down next to you, turning his attention towards your heaving chest.

His hand comes up, towards your face, claws shining gold. You wince and close your eyes, despite your best efforts to appear strong, but the pain you've anticipated doesn't come. Instead, you feel something sharp drag itself across your forehead. You risk cracking an eye at him, face scrunching, before relaxing into an expression of utter confusion.

There he was, your captor, tormentor, your enemy, brushing flyaway hairs from your sweaty forehead. Your eyes meet, and again, feelings swirl inside your gut, some you're too scared to decipher, and some need no explanation. His lips curl into something akin to a smirk, yet his eyes remain focused on you entirely, thoughts swimming behind his irises. Then, as if some magic spell has been broken, you can see him shift into his true self, the same scheming energy overflowing him, as if a new, frightful idea has formed inside his mind.

Once again, he reaches into the pockets of his robe, this time producing a deliciously red apple. Its skin is shiny, the potent smell makes your mouth water, and suddenly you remember you haven't eaten in Gods know how many hours. With a dark chuckle, the man turns the apple, from side to side, as if he wants you to take full stock of just how sinful it looks. Then, with a simple gesture, he tips it towards your lips. Your eyes snap up at him.

"I can't eat it with my hands tied" your voice sounds rough from all the pain you've experienced before.

"Nonsense, I shall feed you" he answers, as if this was the most obvious way out of your predicament, and the heat of embarrassment mixes with anger in your gut.

"You want me to eat out of your hand like some damned pet?"

Now, he laughs, fully. His eyes crinkle at the sides, as he inclines his head towards you.

"I know full-well you're too dangerous to let roam freely" your eyes flicker towards the apple, "And after all you've been through, aren't you hungry, Mortal?"

Your teeth grind against each other, as you weight your options. Shang Tsung moves the apple again in a tantalizing manner, and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes lock onto his, giving him the best performance of defiance you could muster, and slowly, you open your mouth.

"Good girl" he croons, and for a split second you ponder, if spitting at the man was worth the consequences.

He brings the apple closer, lets it rest on your bottom lip, before giving you a patronizingly inviting smile. Swallowing your pride, your teeth sink into the fruit, and you can't stop the absolutely shameful moan from slipping out of you, as the sweetness of the apple hits your tongue. Damned be precautions, damned be your dignity, you were hungry, and that apple was delicious. So you take a bite so large, it almost reaches the stem, letting some juice flow down your chin.

Shang Tsung watches you eat with a laser focus one might imagine he reserves for his experiments, teeth catching his bottom lip.

Another bite, this one silent on your part. His eyes follow the column of your throat, when you swallow. One more, and you give him a show of looking up at his darkened expression when your teeth all but tear away from the fruit.

Your hands are shaking behind your back, a coil is forming deep within you, and you press your legs tight together, to shield the rest of your dwindling dignity from completely being torn away. He notices. Of course, he does, as your actions seem to have a similar effect on him, if his bitten lips and heavy breaths are anything to go by.

"Why go through all this trouble, Sorcerer?" you ask, licking your lips from the remnants of your meal.

His eyes follow your tongue, before looking back right into your eyes. The rest of the apple is thrown somewhere amongst the golden piles of treasure, forgotten entirely. Time seems to slow down, air becomes thick between the two of you, surrounding you like a vat of tar. The pull you've been feeling since meeting this infamous monster becomes almost too strong to ignore.

Shang Tsung raises his hand, grabbing your chin and pushing it upwards. There is a myriad of emotions running rampant on his face, until it finally settles on something so dark and wanting, your stomach tightens at the mere sight. His lips come down upon yours in an avalanche, slipping towards your chin, where he provocatively licks at your skin, tasting the apple's juices and humming to himself.

Your voice comes out as a small whimper, entire body reacting to his kiss, as you fight between pushing him away and pulling him much closer. He decides for you, coming back to claim your lips again, as his hands start to travel up the sides of your stomach, gathering your shirt in the process.

His clawed gauntlets scratch at your skin, not enough to actually hurt you, but enough to elicit a wave of shudders from your body. Finally, he pulls away, considering your swollen lips and disheveled hair as one would their newest painting. Pride and mischief mix well in his black irises, and he licks his lips slowly, making you blush impossibly red.

"You look quite beautiful, like this" he croons, tangling his free hand in the hair at the back of your neck, "So pliant under my fingers."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, poised above you with his usual smirk gracing his features. Then a thought materializes in your head, a chance at finding an escape route, if you could play your cards right.

"Untie me" you moan wantonly, arching your neck, as if to give him better access.

He launches at your exposed pulse point immediately, licking a long stripe up, before giving your skin a few delicious nips, ones that make you almost forget your half-formed plan. Almost. Gathering all your resolve, you writhe against him. His clothes are hiding a lean, but well-muscled body, and you wish so hard, you could run your hands down his chest.

"Untie me, please" you don't recognize your voice, so broken and needy.

The Snake stops his ministrations, tugging at your hair, before sliding his hand towards your shoulders, where he grabs you and pulls you even closer, so your body is leaning almost completely on his lap. His other hand makes quick work of the zipper on your trousers and worms itself into your underwear. A wave of humilation hits you, as your pink, polka-dotted panties look at you from between the fly.

"I can't risk you getting away" he whispers in your ear and takes a long whiff of your hair, humming in pleasure, "My Benefactor has made it clear, you are crucial to their plan."

That startles you. Or it would, if the Sorcerer hadn't began to delicately rub his fingers over your lower lips, just shy of entering you. It's torture, a new brand of cruel experiment, you think, as you buck your hips against him, trying to get some sort of pressure

"I would've thought you wanted me for yourself" you pant between heated kisses you're leaving on the exposed skin of is neck, "It certainly - oh - seems so."

The hand which is currently not occupied sneaks around your middle, before grabbing a handful of your right breasts.

"Would you like that?" he asks into the crown of your head, his fingers finally dipping into your opening.

It takes you several tries to form an answer in your brain, and another few to vocalize it. His thumb makes quick work of finding your bundle of nerves, and instantly starts to abuse that newly-found knowledge. You bite your lip, hard, to stop any sounds from escaping you, but the Sorcerer wouldn't have it. His mouth finds yours, and he swallows your moans of pleasure with an approving hum reverberating through his chest,

"Would you like to be kept by me? Be mine and mine alone" his lips brush against yours as he talks, and you tug mercilessly on your binds, wanting to hold onto something, anything. Him.

"I-" you can't quite finish your sentence, because the hand that's been, for the most part, playing with your breast like it's a stress ball, begins to travel further down, until it rests on the lower part of your stomach. "No."

It comes out as choked and desperate, as his fingers curl upwards inside you, hitting a spot that nearly makes you fly off the ground. He laughs, right in your ear.

"No?"

"No" you swallow, "I'm- oh fuck... I'm too good for you."

Another deliberate motion of his fingers and your toes start to curl. He might be the key to undoing the entire universe, but hell, he does know how to use his fingers. Long and elegant fingers, trained by years spent on studying ad practicing spells, made dexterous by whatever horrors he has committed in his laboratories. Fingers, which are currently pumping in and out of you with a pace set specifically to drive you insane.

"Yes" he hisses through his teeth, pressing his nose to the crown of your head, "You are too good for me, aren't you? That's why you're here, taking my fingers like you were meant for it."

Gods, his voice really isn't helping you focus. By the feeling of something hard and rather large poking you in your thigh, you guess you're not the only one getting off on the sound of his voice. A coil starts to tighten deep within you, growing tighter with every movement of his fingers, every word coming out of his filthy mouth

"Even the Fire God couldn't keep you away from me" his thumb presses down onto your clit and begins to rub it in quick circles, "He was so scared to let you go into my lair, wasn't he?"

You nod absentmindedly, thrashing in the Sorcerer's lap, as a strong shiver of pleasure wrecks your body. Experimentally, you move your backside, rubbing against his growing erection, and the man hisses into your ear, his movements faltering for a split-second.

"He was right" Shang Tsung seethes the words into your skin, before coming down to bite on your shoulder, "We will be each other's undoing."

His palm presses flat on your lower stomach, as his efforts inside your pants increase tenfold. The coil is so close to breaking, you can feel tears start to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Ladies first, sweet thing" he hums, pressing your writhing body even closer to himself, "Come undone for me."

And you do, as if compelled by some ancient magic. Your face buries itself into his robes, teeth catching on the skin of the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. And you bite, hard enough to break his skin, taste his blood on your tongue. The coil shatters, and so does your grip on the world. You let out a muffled wail, the Sorcerer pulling you even closer, engulfing you entirely in his presence, his smell. Your legs are shaking, as Shang Tsung lets you ride out your orgasm on his nimble fingers, and soon, your body becomes boneless.

He doesn't let you go for a while longer, still pressed to your body, swaying with you in some sort of perversion of intimacy. Or perhaps, as much as the thought terrifies you, there is some link building between the two of you. Something more than lust and curiosity. Then, his hand leaves your pants, coming up out of your field of vision. You catch a glimpse of his soaked fingers, and your imagination fills in, what might be happening just above your head, as an obscenely wet sound of sucking reaches your ears.

Then, like the gentleman he is, he helps you button your pants back up, straightens your shirt and ties your hair more neatly. You want to kiss him again. There is another need brewing inside you, as you watch him stand up and dust his clothes, which are now stained with gold dust in places.

Is it wrong to want more?

You want to reach up, brush your fingers through his hair, kiss him until he can't speak clearly. You wants to feel his breath quicken again, feel his pulse run wild. You want to drain his blood and feed on his power until there's nothing left.That last thought freezes you in your spot, cold shivers climbing up your body like a dead hand gripping you from beneath the earth.

Too dark, too power-hungry, and you were none of those things. You never will be.

"Beautiful" he murmurs again, watching you from above, but this moment of sentiment is cut shortly, as his head snaps towards the entrance to the chamber, expression souring instantly

Your eyes follow his, but there's nothing you can see in the darkness. A chill runs up your spine.

"Get ready, Mortal" oh, so we're back to thinly veiled insults, "My Benefactor will want to meet you soon."

With that, he turns to leave, not sparing you a second glance, and you're back to being alone. Used and left between the piles upon piles of gold surrounding you, like your part of this chamber. A pretty thing, stained gold, made to exist only when it's owner is looking at it.

You need to get out of here, before you lose your mind.

#my writing #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #i love shang in every version but i really like the way they carried his character in this game #there's more nuance to him now #at least that's what i think mk stans don't stab me

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 10 months

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why is headless women art bad? i can see why it's seen as objectifying but why is it such a big deal to make art out of the female form? (sorry if i sound agressive this is a genuine question)

Hi anon! You certainly don’t sound aggressive - I’m actually very grateful for the opportunity to collate my current thoughts in one place, so thank you for the prompt. I’m going to try my hardest to keep this short.

For any women who haven’t seen posts on this topic previously, some examples of the ‘headless women art’ trend I’ve been talking about for a while now are below. They’re often missing their limbs, at various points of amputation, as well as all or part of their heads (if she has her eyes, I generally don’t count it). Sometimes their heads have been ‘replaced’ with other objects, typically plants or mushrooms, though I wouldn’t count a woman with an animal or bird’s head. They’re often naked.

So, per Anon’s question, why is it a ‘big deal’?

I mean, really, it’s not. It’s an absolutely minuscule deal - it’s as dwarfed by the issues of the sex industry, femicide, and systemic sex inequality, as we are by the Sun. And yet, much as our bodies are made of particles formed in dying stars, I see elements of the large within the small… ok, I’m not getting poetic.

It’s not a big deal, and I don’t necessarily think it’s wholly terrible either, which is why in my analysis posts on the topic I try to ask questions more than criticise, and criticise gently when I do so. What it comes down to is that I spotted a pattern, and wanted to acknowledge that pattern, think about it, and ask other women for their thoughts on it.

With that said, there are certain things that I question particularly, and have seen other women question, which I’ll list:

Remove her legs and she can’t run, remove her arms and she can’t fight, remove her mouth and she can’t shout, and remove her eyes and she can’t look back at you. You totally disempower her when you remove almost every body part capable of action.

By removing her head you also remove her brain (her personality and internal identity), and her face (her visible external identity). By anonymising her you strip her of her individuality, and depict all female people as a result - so what message are you sending about all female people with your depiction of us, naked and dismembered?

A (living) woman’s neutral existence requires her to have her head. By removing it, you are making an active choice to step away from the neutral (and it’s on you to defend that choice), and you are also by necessity depicting a dead woman. You ask about ‘art out of the female form’ - the living female form has a head. Why remove it?

The simplest test of whether something might be sexist, is to see whether it applies to men and women equally. Are (straight) men decorating their homes with ‘bits’ of male bodies? Do men in general feel conscious enough of, yet alienated enough from, the appearance of their bodies that they seek out their representation, sans heads, to reflect back at them? Why not, if women are? Would it be strange if they did?

As a follow up, since many of these pieces are made by women (often straight women), are (straight) men often focusing their artistic output on depicting ‘bits’ of male bodies? Do men regularly choose to create art intended to depict the ‘beauty’ of the male form? If not, why not?

You mention objectification - what links are there between objectification and violence? Could self-objectification be used to normalise violence against the self, or even excuse it? What about violence against others who are like the self (ie violence against other women)?

As I say, I’m not necessarily saying this artistic trend is exclusively a bad one, or that people/women in particular shouldn’t be decorating their homes however they please. It’s just something I’ve noted and found interesting, and like many apparently free choices, I think feminist women have a responsibility to interrogate their own and others’ motivations.

This is a hasty overview, and I’ve probably missed things - I’ll reblog with additions if I think of any, but you can also see my previous posts on this topic, and other women’s contributions, under my “Headless Women Art” tag. Thanks again for the question!

#headless women art

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve’s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #domestic fluff #valentine's day #sickfic #but like: eddie's a sniffly-cuddly-bundle-of-cough-medicine #and steve is a doting and caring and adoring boyfriend about it #secret time: eddie's been crushing on steve since high school #high school carnation sales #secret admirer #happy ending #or: happy-SAPPY ending #stranger things

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